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slut4kwon · 11 hours ago

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if you were anyone else

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re his best friend’s little sister. it was never supposed to mean anything, but now he can’t forget the way she looked at him like it did. and that’s the problem. because wanting her was already a mistake, but letting her go might be worse.

warnings: 18+, implied sexual content, swearing, angst, secret relationship, brother’s best friend trope, emotionally repressed men™, jealousy, regret, unresolved feelings, possessive behavior, emotionally charged spirals, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, slight praise kink, yearning so intense it physically hurts.

authors note: this is my first time posting on here, so… go easy on me. or don’t. i probably won’t sleep either way. also this is long as fuck i am so sorry. if you read it, thank you. if you liked it, even better. if you’re here just for the angst, me too.

you should’ve known it would get messy the first time he kissed you.

it wasn’t sweet. it wasn’t slow.

it happened behind the wardrobe rack in one of the yg dressing rooms, thirty minutes before a run-through while the crew scrambled to fix a lighting issue.

you were in a sports bra and sweatpants, makeup half-finished, second-day curls falling effortlessly down your back.

he was in his usual all-black rehearsal outfit, a silver chain at his collarbone, and something unreadable behind his eyes.

“you’re not supposed to look at me like that,” he muttered, jaw tense, gaze fixed on yours.

you crossed your arms. “i’m not looking at you like anything.”

he stepped in closer. “you keep doing those little moves. the ones you know drive me fucking crazy.”

“you mean the choreography?” you shot back, lifting a brow. “i’m literally just doing my job.”

“that thing in the second chorus,” he said, his voice lower now. “when you drop low and bite your lip. you do that for me. don’t lie, beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, but your breath caught when he moved again. closer, slower, deliberate.

“you want me to lose it, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer. couldn’t.

because the way he looked at you was hungry. frustrated. like he’d been holding something back for far too long. it lit something dangerous inside you.

before you could even speak, his mouth was on yours.

hot. desperate. possessive.

your back hit the wall. his hands gripped your waist.

your fingers curled into his shirt like it was an instinct.

his tongue, his hands, the way he groaned when you tugged his hair. everything about it was messy.

and it didn’t stop there.

the backstage hookups became a pattern. between rehearsals. after fittings. corners of the studio with fogged mirrors and locked doors.

always hidden. always rushed. always too much but somehow never enough.

you gave him your first time on the studio couch, the same one you always collapsed on after long nights.

not out of romance, but something heavier. needier.

your legs wrapped around his waist. your fingers in his hair like you were clinging to gravity.

and he let you.

let you take. let you tremble.

let you come undone in his lap while his mouth traced your collarbone like a promise he’d never speak out loud.

no one knew about this.

not the stylists. not the other dancers. not even his own bandmates.

and especially not seunghyun.

your older brother would’ve lost his mind. maybe even burned the whole building down if he ever found out.

because of course, out of all the people in the world, it had to be him.

kwon jiyong.

his best friend. his closest friend.

the one person who had no business even looking at you like that; let alone touching you, wanting you, needing you.

and yet somehow, he was always there.

for months, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

that the way he touched you like he needed you — like breathing wasn’t enough unless you were under him, around him, full of him — was just part of the act.

that the way he lingered after, brushing hair from your face like it mattered, wasn’t real either.

you told yourself you could handle it.

that you were strong enough to keep it casual. quiet. hidden.

but it got harder to lie every time he pulled you in and didn’t let go.

every time he stayed a little longer.

every time he looked at you like maybe, just maybe, you were more than a secret.

still, you never asked for more. how could you?

he was your brother’s best friend. this was never supposed to happen.

but it did.

over and over again. like a bad habit neither of you could quit.

you didn’t plan to fall for him. didn’t mean to hope he’d stay the night, or kiss you like it meant something.

but you did. god, of course you did.

i mean, how could you not?

he touched you like you were fragile, but fucked you like you were the only thing that’s ever made him come undone.

he zipped up your jacket for you like it was just an excuse to touch you again.

he continuously found your eyes across any room like they were the only ones that existed.

for a while, you let yourself believe he felt it too.

until about a month ago, when he decided that pretending it meant nothing became easier than admitting it ever meant anything at all.

it happened in your dressing room. you’d just touched up your lip gloss, and casually asked him if he was coming over that night.

same routine. same rhythm.

he didn’t answer right away though. he just stood there, still and silent.

you turned, confused, watching the way his jaw clenched and how he couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“jiyong?” you spoke up quietly.

he finally looked at you.

and you knew. before he even opened his mouth, you felt it.

“we can’t keep doing this.”

your stomach still dropped. “what?”

“this… whatever it is… it needs to stop.”

“don’t do that. don’t act like this wasn’t real.”

his jaw tightened as he looked away. “it was a mistake.”

“say it and mean it,” you snapped.

he didn’t hesitate this time. “it was a mistake.”

your laugh came out sharp, bitter. “tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, but don’t stand there and pretend that i didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off.

“fuck you, jiyong.”

he met your eyes again, his throat tight.

almost like he wanted to say something else. like it was stuck somewhere between his ribs and his pride.

but he didn’t answer. he just let the silence grow between you.

let it choke everything that hadn’t been said. let it mean more than the truth would’ve.

“i’m sorry.” he finally said.

not a reason. not an explanation.

just that. two words. and then he walked out.

no goodbye. no chance to respond. no space to fall apart.

just the door clicking shut behind him like none of it had ever meant anything. like you had never meant anything.

the worst part wasn’t even the way it ended.

it was how nothing else did.

rehearsals still ran long. the mirrors still fogged with sweat. the playlist still cycled through the same tracks you used to hum when you thought no one could hear you.

he was always there. of course he was.

not in the way that mattered though. not in the way you needed. just in the way that somehow made it worse.

that same smirk. same swagger. same easy charm that made everyone else feel like nothing had changed.

like he hadn’t ruined you with nothing but his mouth and a handful of whispered promises he never intended to keep.

he still showed up to rehearsals like none of it ever happened.

he still carried his favourite hoodie. the one he never left home without.

everyone thought it was a comfort thing; a habit, maybe. something worn-in and familiar. assumed he just loved it.

and maybe he did. but it wasn't because it was warm, or soft, or broken in just right.

it was because it was yours.

he never carried it for himself. he carried it for you.

you never brought your own.

you hated feeling cold, and hated asking for help even more.

but with jiyong, you never had to ask. he paid attention to the way you’d rub slow circles into your arm, tuck your hands under your thighs, sometimes even press your tongue to the roof of your mouth just to stay quiet.

tiny things. things no one else could ever pick up on.

and yet somehow, he always did.

you never had to ask. he’d just offer it. sometimes with just a glance, sometimes with a soft, “here.”

and if you ever hesitated, he’d pull it over your head himself. like he was allowed to. like it meant something.

the other boys never questioned it. of course they didn’t. they would’ve done the same. they had before, on the rare days jiyong wasn’t around. but when he was, they never got the chance.

but now, he wears it again like it doesn't hold your scent. your shape. every version of you he ever pulled close. like it's just a hoodie.

however, this didn't stop you from showing up to rehearsals every day too.

because that’s what professionals do, right?

they show up, even when it hurts.

even when the person they can’t stop dreaming about is stretching ten feet away.

still laughing with everyone like he wasn’t one secret away from getting his jaw broken by your older brother.

there was no wreckage. no huge fall-out. just absence.

no one knew what had been taken because nothing, on the surface, was missing.

but you felt it. in every glance he didn’t give you. every touch that didn’t happen, but almost did.

and you were angry.

angry that he ended it without warning. angry that he made that decision for the both of you. angry that he could walk away without looking back.

you were angry at yourself for still caring.

you hated that your eyes searched for him when you entered the room. that your skin remembered him better than your brain wanted it to. how some part of you still wished he’d turn around and take it all back.

but he never did. not once.

rehearsal had run longer than usual today. the sun had dipped somewhere behind the city skyline without you noticing. shadows were now stretching across the floor as the studio emptied, one by one.

you stayed behind, stretching in silence, letting the burn in your muscles distract from the burn in your chest.

you suddenly heard your brother’s loud voice, which snapped you out of whatever trance you were in. “dinner. let’s go.”

you didn’t even blink. still stretched out on the floor, one leg bent and arms braced behind you. “pass.”

seunghyun frowned. “you didn’t even ask where.”

“don’t need to,” you said coolly. “you’re painfully predictable.”

daesung raised a brow. “she’s got you there.”

“actually, i’m switching it up tonight,” seunghyun insisted. “new place. no kimchi stew.”

you finally looked up, unimpressed. “who’s paying you to try their new restaurant?”

he crossed his arms. “no one. i just think you need some real food in you. something with protein. maybe even a vegetable.”

“tempting,” you said, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. “but i can’t. i’ve got plans.”

“plans?” seunghyun’s voice cracked like he’d just heard you say you were moving out and never coming back.

you grabbed your water. “yep.”

“what kind of plans?”

“the kind that don’t include you,” you said, smiling sweetly.

youngbae’s head popped up from behind his duffel. “wait. are we talking… plans plans?”

you just sipped your water like it was nothing, which, naturally, made it something.

daesung narrowed his eyes. “that look. that’s a ‘plans with a boy’ look if i’ve ever seen one.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. it was more entertaining to watch them spiral on their own.

youngbae gasped. “you’re going on a date.”

“jesus christ,” seunghyun muttered. “no you’re not.”

“i didn’t say that,” you replied, smoothing your hair down.

“but you didn’t not say it.”

you gave the smallest shrug, which, unfortunately, said everything, once again.

youngbae gasped like he’d been betrayed. “you’re seeing someone? since when?”

“relax,” you said, throwing your towel over your shoulder. “you’re acting like i announced an engagement.”

“it’s hard to relax when you’re acting suspiciously vague,” daesung countered.

“which means it’s serious,” youngbae added while nodding. “you’re protecting him.”

you raised a brow. “or i’m protecting you idiots from a full-blown meltdown.”

seunghyun squinted. “who is it?”

“none of your business.”

“it is absolutely my business if some dude is out here making googly eyes at my baby sister behind my back!”

“googly eyes?” you echoed, half-laughing. “what are we, twelve?”

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“i can tell, oppa. very intimidating.”

“is it someone we know?” daesung asked. “because i feel like it’s someone we know.”

“you don’t know him.” you replied, which wasn’t technically a lie.

there was no him. but they didn’t need to know that.

especially not the one sitting on the bench near the mirror, completely silent.

jiyong hadn’t said a word. hadn’t even moved.

just sat there with his towel around his neck, and his eyes on the floor.

but you saw the tension in his hands. the way his jaw was set so tightly, it looked like it hurt.

and it gave you just enough fuel to keep going.

seunghyun was still spiraling. “i don’t like this. what if he’s some asshole? what if he’s just trying to—”

“then i’ll deal with it,” you replied calmly. “i’m perfectly capable of throwing hands.”

“still don’t like it.”

“you’re not supposed to, oppa.”

and that’s when jiyong spoke. low. dismissive. deadly.

“just let her go.”

everyone turned.

seunghyun blinked. “huh?”

“if she’s got plans, she’s got plans,” jiyong said. not looking at you. not looking at anyone. “it’s not our business.”

“oh, wow,” daesung muttered. “traitor.”

“you’re not even gonna try to talk her out of it?” seunghyun asked, almost sounding dumbfounded.

“she’s allowed to do whatever she wants,” jiyong replied, tossing the towel aside like the whole conversation bored him. “if it’s a date, then…let her have fun.”

you said nothing. you just stared at him.

and after a long second, he finally looked up, just for a heartbeat. just long enough to meet your eyes.

and there it was. buried under all of it; jealousy. regret. hurt.

only things that you could see.

the things he couldn’t say. the ones you never needed him to.

so you smiled, small and sweet.

“thanks for your support, jiji.” you said sweetly, using the nickname you rarely used for him anymore.

he didn’t answer, but you didn’t wait for one either.

you grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder.

“anyways, don’t wait up!” you shouted, turning and blowing a kiss towards the boys as you walked towards the door.

youngbae clutched his chest. “she’s so going to make out with him.”

“i’m gonna vomit,” seunghyun muttered.

you walked out giggling without looking back.

jiong didn’t move. didn’t even blink. just stared at the door like it might swing back open and undo all of it.

it didn’t.

he noticed the tremble in your hands as you reached for your bag. it was faint, almost invisible. the kind of shake that came when your body had given too much.

he always noticed.

it was a curse. a reflex. a silent devotion to you that he never meant to make a habit.

you were clearly overstimulated, vibrating underneath your skin. and no one else seemed to care.

but he did. he always did.

the boys were still talking. still laughing, but their voices echoed as if they were underwater.

daesung was teasing seunghyun about running a background check. youngbae was already trying to guess the date’s name. one of them joked about texting you the restaurant address ‘in case lover boy stands you up.’

jiyong didn’t laugh. he couldn’t.

because the silence left in your absence was louder than anything. and beneath it, something ugly twisted in his chest.

he knew you weren’t dressed for a date. your hair was wild, your face was bare, still glowing with sweat and adrenaline.

you didn’t look like someone trying to impress a man, not that you needed to. you just looked like you. the version jiyong had memorized in the low light of his apartment, curled into his sheets, still trembling from his mouth on your skin.

and somehow, that made it worse.

because what if this new guy didn’t care enough to notice the small things jiyong had?

what if he didn’t realize how you go quiet when you’re overwhelmed, not out of moodiness, but because your brain shuts down under too much noise?

what if he didn’t know how sometimes you can’t ask for help, because you don’t even know what you need?

what about that you chew the inside of your cheek when you��re anxious? or that you tap your thumb against your middle finger three times when you’re trying not to cry?

would he know that you hated the sound of ticking clocks? that certain words made your skin crawl? that sometimes, dancing was the only thing that kept your thoughts from devouring you whole?

jiyong did. he knew all of it.

he knew how to sit behind you on the studio floor when everything got to be too much; legs stretched out on either side of you, chest pressed against your back.

he knew not to ask what was wrong. he knew that you didn’t always know, and that asking only made it worse.

just to let you press your ear over his heart and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat until your lungs remembered how to breathe properly on their own again.

he knew the hoodie he always carried for you was your lifeline when you needed comfort. which songs made you cry even if you didn’t quite know why.

he knew you couldn’t sit in the backseat of a car because it always made you nauseous. which corners of your body held tension so tightly, you didn’t even realize they hurt until he pressed his fingers there.

he learned you like a prayer. a warning. a song that never stopped playing in the back of his head.

and now, someone else might get to touch you. might get to pretend they know you. run their hands down a body they hadn’t earned. kiss a mouth that didn’t belong to them.

and jiyong fucking hated that.

because yeah, it started as just sex.

reckless. rushed. hidden in between rehearsals and outfit changes. in cars, stairwells and hotel rooms too quiet for what the two of you were doing.

but it stopped being just sex a long time ago.

he didn’t know when exactly it shifted. maybe it was the first night you told him not to ask, but to just take. when you grabbed his wrist and pulled it to your throat. when you told him to ruin you.

or maybe it was the one night he didn’t.

the night he slowed down.

held your jaw in both hands like you were made of glass and kissed you like he had something to lose.

told you how fucking perfect you were. how you take him so well. how you were made for him.

you came apart for him like you believed it. like you needed it.

surely that’s when he realized it wasn’t just sex. at least, not anymore.

because you didn’t just let him have your body, you gave it to him. not with words. not directly.

in the way you trembled under his touch. in the way you arched into his hands. in the way you moaned his name like it meant something.

and fuck, it did. it meant everything.

he memorized you. not just the way your thighs shook when you were close or the spot beneath your ribs that made you gasp when he kissed it for the first time.

he knew your body better than he knew his own.

he memorized the curve of your spine. the pitch of your moans. the shape of your mouth when you were too fucked-out to speak.

he knew exactly where to touch to make you fall apart, but also exactly how to hold you when you couldn’t put yourself back together.

he hated himself for it.

for needing you. for learning you. for turning every sound you made into a song he couldn’t stop humming in his own head.

because the more he gave, the more he wanted. and the more he wanted, the more it hurt.

he told himself that ending it was the right call, and maybe it was.

maybe it was smart. you were seunghyun’s little sister, after all. this was doomed from the moment it started.

but god, he missed you.

you were the only one he ever let see him for who he really was, and now you were gone. and he has no one else to blame for that but himself.

his thumb pressed into the palm of his opposite hand; hard. a grounding technique, one that you taught him. one that never worked unless it was your voice talking him through it.

he barely felt the pain.

he just sat there, spine tense, gaze still locked on the scuffed floor where you’d been standing just a few moments ago.

the room still buzzed with conversation. low laughter, the rustle of jackets, someone still talking about dinner plans.

but it all felt far away. almost like he was watching it through a sheet of glass that was thick and smudged with fingerprints.

he didn’t hear what they said. he didn’t care either.

because all he could think about was the look on your face before you walked out.

not happy. not angry. not sad either.

he honestly wasn’t quite sure, and that scared him a little.

he remembers how you used to look at him. like you saw through everything; the ego, the performance, the chaos.

that was because you did, and yet, you still chose him.

every. single. time.

but now, you didn’t even look back.

“hyung?” daesung said cautiously, tone lighter than his expression. “you good?”

jiyong blinked like he was waking up from a dream. “what?”

“you’ve been kinda weird lately,” youngbae said from behind him. “and not just today either.”

“yeah,” daesung added. “like the last few weeks.”

jiyong exhaled through his nose, forcing a shrug. “just tired.”

seunghyun looked up from where he was zipping his bag. “ji.”

jiyong flinched like his name stung.

“talk to us,” seunghyun said, voice low, less like a demand and more like a plea. “we’ve been worried. you don’t laugh the same anymore. you barely show up.”

“i’m fine,” he said, sharper this time. like if he said it hard enough, they’d believe it.

“we’re not trying to push,” youngbae said gently. “we just miss you, man.”

jiyong’s throat was tight. he couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

“i’ll see you guys later,” he spoke suddenly, already halfway to the door.

“what?” daesung called after him. “you’re not coming to eat?”

“not hungry.”

seunghyun took a step forward. “jiyong—wait.”

but the door was already closing behind him.

and just like that, he was gone. his feet moved without thinking.

down the hallway, out of the building, and into the night.

but on the inside, he was somewhere else entirely.

back in the dressing room. back in your bed.

back in that goddamn moment where you looked up at him like you were his, even though you both knew you weren’t.

he can still feel it.

the weight of your body curled under his. your nails in his skin. his name on your tongue.

the breath you let out when he called you sweetheart like it meant something.

the quietness afterwards that felt like a promise, even though neither of you ever made one.

it should’ve faded by now.

but it hasn’t. it’s still there.

in the way his chest tightens when someone says your name.

in the way his hands curl into fists when he pictures you laughing with someone else.

in the way the silence feels heavier when you’re not around to fill it.

and now, he has to act like it didn’t happen. like it didn’t mean anything. like you didn’t mean everything.

he hates himself for how much he still cares.

hates that he let it get this far. that he let you in. that he let it mean something.

but more than anything, he hates that he can’t stop hoping it meant something to you, too.

because no matter how far he lets you go, he will always believe that no one else will ever have you in the way that he did.

and maybe that makes him selfish.

but it also makes him right.

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havonte · 2 months ago

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Predebut bigbang

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emmysbigbang · 18 hours ago

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❁ summary: just you and hoodie which belong to your bigbang!bf

❁ starring: gdragon, t.o.p, daesung, taeyang

❁ warnings: none

❁ a/n: i’m back lovelies! hope you’ll enjoy this one

🎧requests are open🎧

🚨ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE🚨

༺♡༻∞ ✧༺♡༻∞ ✧༺♡༻∞ ✧༺♡༻

@emmysbigbang - please don’t copy or rewrite my works on any other app, this is my original work

#bigbang #choi seunghyun #dong youngbae #kang daesung #kwon jiyong #gdragon #daesung #t.o.p #taeyang #fake texts #bigbang ot4 #kpop smau #small artist

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myflancee · 5 days ago

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#viral #viral post #kpop #2nd gen kpop #kpop moodboard #bigbang kpop #bigbang #choi seunghyun #t.o.p #t.o.p bigbang #g dragon #g dragon bigbang #kwon ji yong #gtop #daesung #taeyang #dong youngbae #frutiger aero

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heartubeatusalon · 2 months ago

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Shitposting daesung pics cause I love him.

I'm not at all good with captions

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mashtatosworld · 3 months ago

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lover boys (5)

summary: sending your partner a sexy text prank

[GD, TOP, D-LITE]

Kwon Jiyong (GD)

Jiyong had never known true suffering until this moment.

He was horny.

Frustrated.

And ignored.

His phone burned in his grip, and every single unanswered call just mocked him.

It was past midnight, and he was stuck at this never-ending music video shoot, running on caffeine and fumes. The director was talking about re-shooting a scene, but he hadn't paid attention since your name lit up his phone.

[My Jagi] thinking about you

[My Jagi] what if I slipped my underwear off rn?

[My Jagi] you'd never know

[My Jagi] unless I just show you

Jiyong had stared at his screen.

His brain short-circuited.

His throat went dry.

His fingers twitched.

A beat of pure, filthy anticipation hit him like a truck.

His pulse skyrocketed.

Oh, shit.

Oh, fucking yes.

You were out clubbing tonight with your friends, dressed in that tiny little black dress he already told you was dangerous. And now you were thinking about him like that?

His body reacted immediately.

His grip on the phone tightened as he licked his lips, thumbs flying across the screen.

[Jiyong] Jagi… don’t play with me.

[Jiyong] Send it.

[Jiyong] Right now.

He hit send and waited.

Nothing.

He saw the little 'read' notification pop up.

No response.

His jaw clenched.

His knee bounced aggressively. He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, suddenly too hot, too tense, too ready.

Okay. Fine.

He hit FaceTime.

Declined.

Jiyong blinked.

Oh, you were not about to do this.

He called again. Declined.

Once more.

Declined.

Jiyong exhaled sharply, rubbing his face, frustrated and painfully hard.

[Jiyong] Why aren’t you answering??

[Jiyong] Jagi you know what you do to me.

[Jiyong] Jagi

[Jiyong] JAGIYA

[Jiyong] PICK UP PLEASE JAGIYA

His crew was looking at him funny now, because he was barely holding it together.

The director called for him.

"Hyung, we’re ready for the next - "

"I need a break."

"…What?"

"FIVE MINUTES." Jiyong was already jogging off set, fisting his hands through his hair.

Door. Slammed. Locked.

He immediately called you again.

You. Finally. Answered.

"Thank god," he exhaled roughly, one hand already on his belt, unbuckling.

Your giggle only made things worse.

"Switch to FaceTime," he ordered, fumbling with the zip of his trousers. "Your reception must be terrible, I’ve been trying to call you - You know what? It’s fine. All I need is your voice, baby."

Your giggles continued, light and teasing.

"Ji…"

"Just talk to me, hmm? Keep me company while I - "

"It was just a prank!"

Jiyong froze.

His hands stopped moving.

His chest rose and fell heavily, eyes narrowing as he processed what you just said.

"…What?" His voice was deadly.

You giggled again, like this was some kind of game.

"I was just thinking about you while waiting for my friend in the bathroom," you admitted, voice still so sweet, so innocent, like you hadn’t just ruined his high.

Jiyong stared blankly at the wall.

His entire body was hot, tense, throbbing, and ready to explode.

"You…" His voice dropped to a low growl. "You were just pranking me?"

"Mhm."

He inhaled deeply, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the counter.

"Okay…" His voice was dangerously calm. "But… can we have phone sex right now?"

"Jiyong! You're supposed to be working."

He groaned and tipped his head forward, hair falling onto his forehead.

"Baby, please. I can’t go back out there like this. You did this to me. Take responsibility."

"No way," you laughed. "Get back to work!"

He sighed dramatically, raking a hand through his hair.

"But I can’t leave this bathroom right now...Like this."

You giggled again, and he swore he was going to lose his damn mind.

"Okay, fine, I can help with that," you hummed, suddenly switching to a sweet, soothing tone.

He perked up again, readying himself.

"Think of… my dad."

Jiyong face scrunched up. Had he heard you correctly?

"Do - do you mean me?"

"Jiyong! No! Stop thinking like that. Oh, oh, wait, I forgot to tell you that I crashed the lambo the other day."

"Huh?"

"Oooh okay, this is a good one... do you remember that one time you saw Youngbae in a thong - "

"FUCK - NO! No, no, no - " Jiyong slapped a hand over his face, groaning in agony. "Oh Jagi why..."

You cackled.

He exhaled slowly, finally feeling himself calm down.

"Okay," he said smoothly, composing himself. "I’m ending this shoot early and picking you up."

"What? Ji - "

"Nothing's better than the real thing anyway."

And then he hung up

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Seunghyun (TOP)

The dinner party was elegant.

Classy.

Polished.

Everything about the atmosphere demanded propriety - low lighting, soft music, the occasional tinkling of a champagne flute against crystal.

And then there was him.

Seunghyun stood across the room in a fitted suit, laughing softly at something someone had just said. One hand in his pocket, his posture lazy and elegant, while the other nursed a glass of wine. He looked unreal - like sin disguised in sophistication.

And he knew it.

You’d been keeping things quiet between you two.

For now.

Late nights. Shared cars. Rooms booked under fake names.

There was something deliciously addictive about the secrecy.

About knowing that no one else at this party had a clue that the two of you had practically torn each other's clothes off in the backseat of his car just last week.

And tonight? He hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

Just watched.

Every time you caught his eye across the room - which was often - it was like he was touching you without moving an inch.

Like he could feel the heat under your dress with just a glance. The way his tongue ran slowly across the inside of his cheek was obscene.

And he knew it.

So you decided to push the game further.

Sliding your phone discreetly under the table, you typed a message:

[My Princess] Thinking about the last time you touched me...

[My Princess] I still have the marks to remember

You hit send. Sat back. Watched.

He didn’t move.

He kept talking, eyes lazily flicking back to you like he could hear your thoughts. He wasn’t even reaching for his phone. Not even a glance.

You crossed your legs slowly, letting your heel dangle just enough to catch his attention again. Then, when he locked eyes with you for the tenth time, you gave him the subtlest little signal - a nod toward the phone in your hand.

Still nothing.

Instead, he excused himself from the conversation and walked straight across the room, every step deliberate and slow, his expression unreadable - except for the heat in his eyes.

He stopped beside your chair, leaned down low enough that only you could hear him, and said with a quiet, deep rasp,

“From the way you’ve been looking at me tonight… I think I already know what you want.”

Your pulse fluttered in your throat.

“I sent you a message,” you murmured, squeezing the device in your hand,.

He smiled - and it wasn’t a kind one.

“I’ll save that for later,” he said, straightening his cuff like he wasn’t about to do something reckless. “I want to see something else right now.”

You blinked. “Right now?”

He smirked and cocked his head towards the door.

And then you were slowly following him - heels clicking through the hallway like a warning bell - until the two of you slipped through the door of a sleek, dimly lit guest bathroom.

The lock clicked.

His hands were on you immediately.

“You think you can just sit there, looking at me,” he whispered against your neck, lips dragging fire across your skin. “Like I wouldn’t come take you?”

You didn’t have time to reply before his mouth was on yours, hungry and possessive, while his fingers found the hem of your dress and dragged it up your thighs with purpose.

He groaned at the feel of lace beneath, low and guttural, pressing against you like he might lose control right there.

It was a blur - heat, hands, soft gasps, the dull thud of your back against the door. Seunghyun was always gentle in public but in private...

He ruined you.

By the time he laid a final kiss to the corner of your mouth and straightened your dress, his breath was heavy and slow, lips flushed, and hair just slightly disheveled.

His fingers grazed your thighs one last time before he bent and pocketed something with a smirk.

You looked down - your panties were gone.

“Souvenir,” he murmured.

You gave him a lazy, smug smile. “What about the message?”

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “Oh, I'm saving that for later too,” he said casually, slipping it back in his pocket.

And when you both walked back into the party - a little flushed, a little dishevelled - no one said a thing.

But Seunghyun?

He kept one hand in his pocket the whole night, two fingers grazing the lace of your panties and the memory of what he’d just done… already counting down the minutes until he could drag you into his bed and read your message - with you under him this time.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Daesung (D-Lite)

You sent the text as a joke. Half teasing, half playful flirt - the kind of thing meant to fluster him.

[My Baby] i miss your smile

[My Baby] also your mouth

[My Baby] mostly your tongue xx

You hadn’t expected much. Maybe a flustered reply, a few emojis, or one of his classic babyyyy voice notes.

But Daesung?

He took it seriously.

Like romance movie seriously.

While you were out grabbing drinks with friends, the man went into full preparation mode. You had no idea - you were sipping cocktails and laughing with your phone tucked away in your bag. Meanwhile, at home, Daesung was setting the scene.

Candles lined the hallway. Soft music playing from the speakers. Clean sheets, freshly fluffed pillows, dimmed lights. He even sprayed your favourite pillow mist on the bed.

By the time everything was set, he’d changed into his comfiest grey tee and sweatpants - the ones you always reached for when he wasn’t home - and laid on the couch to wait.

He sent you a quick response, eagerly staring at his phone screen for your answer.

[Dae] I'm waiting whenever you're ready baby

Except... you were taking a little longer than expected.

An hour passed. Then another.

He checked his phone for notifications from you. Then again.

Still no response.

Then he curled up under the throw blanket, watching the front door with keen eyes. Still determined. Still hopeful.

By the time you finally stepped into the house - heels in hand, hair a little windblown from the night air - you were greeted by flickering candlelight and music.

Your heart stuttered.

“...Dae?” you called out gently.

No answer.

You peeked around the corner and found him curled up on the couch, fast asleep, arms tucked under his head.

You blinked, suddenly remembering the message you’d sent hours earlier.

“Oh dear…”

Quietly, you walked over, kneeling beside him as your fingers brushed a soft strand of hair off his forehead.

He stirred a little, eyes fluttering open.

“You’re home,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “Wait... you're home!”

He sat up suddenly, blinking away tired eyes as he hurriedly struggled to yank his shirt over his head.

You smiled and admired his sculpted body flexing with the erratic movement. “Wow, you really set the mood, huh?”

"I had candles." He cast a quick glance to the melted wax. They were burning low now, lighting the room with a dim golden glow.

“Oh no. No, no, no - ” he whispers, standing and sweeping his hair back with a frustrated groan. “I was gonna surprise you, babe, I swear I had it all planned - ”

You laugh, standing to meet him, fingers brushing his bare chest. “You fell asleep with the candles lit? You’re lucky this house is still standing.”

He pouts, gaze sheepish. “I didn't mean to fall asleep...”

“I know,” you say softly, eyes trailing across his torso, the faint tan lines, the dip of muscle that disappears beneath his sweats. “You've been so exhausted lately."

He leans in, arms winding around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.

His voice is thick with sleep.

“I can still salvage it. Give me five seconds - just need to light the other candle again and maybe take my pants off, or yours - ”

“Hey,” you cut in, fingers sliding under his chin to tilt his gaze back to yours, “I can see you’re tired, baby.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you silence it with a slow press of your lips.

“Let me take care of you tonight.”

Daesung stills - brows drawn slightly together, always the giver, always the one chasing your breath, your sighs, your high - but the way your voice dips low with promise, the way your hands skim his hips with purpose…

It’s enough to have him melt, breathing out a quiet, “Yeah… okay.”

He lets you take his hand and guide him to the bedroom.

And maybe he fell asleep on his big plan.

But this - you, pulling his sweats down with reverence and climbing into his lap like you’ve waited all night just to wreck him softly -

This is better than anything he could’ve ever prepared.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

for the amazingly wonderful @infinetlyforgotten im sorry its taken me so longgg my lovely 😮‍💨

i dont usually write sexy texts so i was STUMPED 🤣 but please enjoy and let me know if you want me to re-do it!

love mash xxx

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

#mashtatosworld #bigbang #kpop #gdragon #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #top #seunghyun x reader #choi seunghyun x reader #choi seunghyun #daesung x reader #daesung

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junnitop · 20 hours ago

Note

silliest daesung pictures you have pretty pls

for u💚

#bigbang #daesung

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look-attthe-moon · 5 days ago

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BigBang 2009 Album Number 1👍🏻

Featuring songs in English & Japanese

#choi seunghyun #kpop collection #top #gtop #tttop #bigbang #kpop #vip #gdragon #daesung #taeyang #instagram

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eru-vande · 3 months ago

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🥹🥹🥹

Daesung posted on his b.stage

#my boys 🥹🥹🥹🥹#kang daesung #daesung #kwon jiyong #g dragon #gdragon #dong youngbae #taeyang #bigbang

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ateezgurl · 4 days ago

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me telling my mom that the beast at stage is such a sweetheart and he doesnt do 18+ things 😭🎀

#ateez #8 makes 1 team #yunho #mingi #seonghwa #jongho #wooyoung #yeosang #hongjoong #sannie #choi san #daesung

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emmiesoverthemoon · 3 months ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he’s so boyfriend: three

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

Word Count: 6,723

Summary: just cute little scenarios between u and each guy AGAIN!!! enjoy :D

part one part two

pov: realising he’s in love with you

seunghyun: to be loved is to be seen

For Seunghyun, it was never about grand gestures. There were no dramatic proclamations, no over-the-top love confessions. It was always in the smallest, quietest moments—the ones that often went unnoticed, but meant everything to him.

Like the way you absentmindedly fixed his collar before he headed out for a big event, your fingers brushing against his neck with a softness he could not quite put into words. Or the way you always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it—perfectly sweet, with just the right amount of cream, no questions asked. You never forgot. And then there was the way you saw him. Really saw him. The way your eyes understood the exhaustion beneath his smile, the way you could tell when he was stressed, even when he tried to hide it. You were the only one who knew the real him.

It was in these moments, these tiny acts of love, that he started to feel it—creeping into his chest, warm and undeniable. One day, it hit him completely, unexpectedly, while he sat across the room, watching you. You were curled up on the couch, lost in a book, and for some reason, in that quiet stillness, he realized the depth of what he felt for you. The kind of realization that did not come with a sudden rush of adrenaline or a dramatic moment. It just… was.

He did not say anything right away, though. He did not want to break the moment, did not want to disrupt the peace of it all. Instead, he tucked the feeling away inside him, pressing it deep into his heart, knowing it was something he did not have to say out loud just yet. He let himself smile, just a little, the corners of his mouth curling softly.

Later that night, when the world had settled into the quiet hum of late hours, and the only sound was your steady breathing beside him, he turned to you, his fingers gently brushing against your arm as you snuggled into his side. He knew he had to say it now. The words had been sitting on his tongue all day, waiting for the right moment.

“I really love you,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost as if he were telling you a secret only meant for the two of you. His eyes met yours in the dim light, and there was no need for anything more. The simplicity of the words said everything. No fireworks. No grand speeches. Just a quiet, honest confession that felt as real as the air he breathed.

You smiled up at him, and in that moment, he knew that everything he had felt, everything he had tucked away, was exactly what he had been meant to feel.

jiyong: sudden realisation

For Jiyong, it happened when you were laughing about something stupid—maybe you tripped over your own feet, maybe you snorted while laughing too hard. Either way, he was watching you in that moment, eyes softening, his whole world slowing down as he observed you with a quiet intensity.

And then it clicked: that he loved you, almost way too much. Almost. The realization was startlingly simple, but it hit him harder than anything ever had before. He had never known that something so subtle, so ordinary, could make his heart feel so full. It wasn’t a grand, dramatic moment—it wasn’t some fiery confession. No, it was the little things, the way you made the mundane beautiful, the way you could turn an embarrassing stumble or a burst of laughter into something enchanting.

He continued to watch you, mesmerized by your every movement, by the way you laughed so freely, the way you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. His thoughts drifted, and for a moment, it was as though time had stopped. You had unknowingly captured every ounce of his attention, and in that stillness, he realized something he hadn’t let himself admit before: He loved you. The kind of love that wasn’t about grand gestures, but about the small, everyday moments that made him feel like he had found something irreplaceable.

Jiyong zoned out completely, a soft, fond smile pulling at his lips as he stared at you, lost in his own thoughts. His heart was racing a little faster now, but there was a sense of peace in that racing, as though he had found something, or someone, that made everything fall into place.

You looked up then, noticing the way he was staring at you with that stupidly fond expression, and a curious smile crossed your face. “What's wrong?” you asked, teasing him as you leaned back on the couch.

His thoughts scattered for a moment, and he blinked, suddenly brought back to the present. He cleared his throat, his lips twitching in an attempt to hide the overwhelming affection that had just overtaken him. He tried to play it cool, tried to shove that swelling feeling back down, but there was no hiding it. Not from you.

“Nothing,” he said with a smirk, though it was much softer than usual, and his gaze remained tender. He leaned in a little closer, eyes never leaving yours. “You're just really cute, you know that?”

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the playful glint in his eyes, made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, he pulled you into a gentle kiss, as if to say everything his words could not.

daesung: did i say that out loud?

For Daesung, it happened unexpectedly, right in the middle of a conversation. You were talking about something you were incredibly passionate about, your eyes lighting up with that familiar, infectious spark, and your hands moving animatedly with every word you said. He had always found that side of you endearing—the way you could get so caught up in something, making it seem like nothing else in the world mattered but what you were saying at that very moment. But that day, it felt different. As you spoke, something inside him shifted. He could hear your voice, but all he could focus on was you: the way your lips moved, the little glint of excitement in your eyes, the rhythm of your breath as you got deeper into the subject. It was like the world around him faded away, and it was just you and him in that moment.

His heart began to beat a little faster, not from anxiety, but from something else entirely. It was like the realization snuck up on him, completely blindsiding him in the midst of a perfectly normal conversation. Suddenly, he found himself captivated—not just by the words you were speaking, but by you. It was in how you were so unapologetically yourself, how you made even the most mundane topics sound thrilling. How you made him feel so completely at ease, so wrapped up in your energy.

Before he could even stop himself, the words were out, slipping past his lips before he could process them: "Wow, I love you." The realization hit him so suddenly that his entire body froze. His own words seemed to hang in the air, thick and undeniable. The seconds dragged on as he watched your face freeze in surprise, your eyes widening just slightly as you processed what he had said.

Immediately, panic set in. What had he just done? He hadn't planned on saying that—not in that way, at least. He didn't even mean to say it out loud. It wasn’t like him to get so carried away, especially with something so important. But there it was, hanging in the air like an undeniable truth.

You blinked at him, and he could feel his face turning an impossible shade of red, his entire body heating up with embarrassment. His mind scrambled for something, anything to cover up the mistake.

"Uh—wait. I mean—um. Did I say that out loud?" he stammered, his voice betraying him with the nervous laugh that followed. His thoughts were scattered in a hundred different directions, and all he wanted to do was rewind time and keep his mouth shut. But that wasn’t an option. He could only stand there, heart racing, waiting for you to react.

The silence between you stretched on, unbearably long. You hadn’t said anything. You just stared at him, completely still, and Daesung felt like he might crumble under the weight of that silence. He opened his mouth again to try and make it better, but no words came out. He was stuck in his own awkwardness, unsure how to fix the mess he had made.

Then, to his shock, you smiled softly, that familiar warmth in your eyes returning as you reached out to gently touch his arm. "You really love me, huh?" you asked, voice soft but teasing, and that was it. The tension that had coiled tightly in his chest loosened just a bit. He nodded quickly, still embarrassed, but a smile started to tug at his lips as well.

"I—yeah," he said, his voice a little quieter, but there was no mistaking the sincerity behind the words. "I really do." And for the first time that day, the weight of the situation didn’t feel so heavy. Instead, it felt like something real, something that was both unexpected and inevitable all at once.

"You never told me," you said softly, your thumb brushing against the back of his hand, sending a little jolt of warmth through him.

"I know," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck, still trying to play it cool but not quite succeeding. "Guess I was waiting for the right moment. But I guess I couldn’t keep it in any longer."

You laughed, a sweet, airy sound that made Daesung’s heart flutter. It was a laugh of acceptance, of understanding, and suddenly, the nervousness that had filled him earlier seemed so silly. Here he was, standing in front of you, telling you how he felt, and you were smiling back at him as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you said with a playful grin, "I'm glad you finally said it."

Daesung smiled back, his face still flushed, but this time, the warmth was different. It wasn’t from embarrassment anymore—it was from something else, something far more comforting. He had said it. He had said it out loud, and it felt like everything he had been feeling had just clicked into place.

"Me too," he murmured, then chuckled to himself. "Even if it did come out all wrong."

But when you leaned in and kissed him softly, he forgot all about that. All that mattered was you, and him, and the fact that he had just admitted, without a single doubt, that he loved you.

pov: late night conversations

daesung: stupid and cozy

It began like any other night—soft, quiet, with your voices low as the rest of the world slept. The kind of late-night conversation that drifts from one topic to another without effort, like waves gently washing over the shore. You were curled up beside him, your limbs tangled beneath the covers, speaking in hushed tones about everything and nothing. Maybe it started with a memory, or a silly thought said half-seriously. Maybe you mispronounced something, or he said a phrase so ridiculous it did not even make sense—but suddenly, it was over.

A beat of silence, and then laughter erupted between you, sharp and breathless and uncontrollable. You tried to muffle it with your hands, biting your lip, shoulders shaking as you gasped for air. He was no better, wheezing beside you, his whole face scrunched up in helpless joy, one hand clamped over his mouth while the other gripped your arm like he needed help holding himself together.

“Stop—stop, we’re gonna wake the neighbors,” you whispered, snorting mid-sentence, which only made it worse.

“I’m trying,” Daesung wheezed, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “but your face is—oh my God—don’t look at me.”

You made the mistake of glancing at him, saw the way he was red in the face, trying so hard to hold it in, and that was it. Another wave crashed over you both, and you were once again dissolving into laughter, clinging to each other like the only way you’d survive was together.

Eventually, you tried to compose yourselves, your breathing unsteady, your cheeks sore from smiling. You turned onto your side, facing him in the dim light, catching your breath. It was almost peaceful again—until you made eye contact.

And then it started all over again.

This time, he buried his face in the pillow, cackling silently, and you threw the blanket over your head, trying in vain to muffle the noise, giggling until you were lightheaded and delirious with joy.

It was so stupid, really. So pointless. But it was one of those moments—warm and stupid and perfect. The kind of moment you would carry with you forever, tucked safely into your heart like a favorite secret.

jiyong: philosophically silly

It started the way it always did with Jiyong—head resting against the headboard, one arm lazily slung around you, his voice soft and smooth in the hush of the late hours. “Do you ever think about how time isn’t real?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, like he was unraveling the secrets of the universe right there in bed. “Like... maybe we’re all just experiencing moments out of order. Maybe this already happened.”

You blinked at him, halfway between impressed and amused. “You’re so weird at night.”

He didn’t deny it. Just smiled a little, thoughtful. “No, but really. Think about it.”

And you did. You both did. For a while, the conversation drifted in and out of these abstract waters—free will, déjà vu, how dreams feel more real than reality sometimes. It was that kind of vulnerable, sleep-drunk honesty that only surfaced after midnight. The kind where everything felt profound and soft and safe.

Then—like flipping a switch—he turned his head toward you and deadpanned, “Also, do you think if I fought a bear, I’d win?”

You choked on a laugh. “What?”

“No, I’m serious,” he insisted, suddenly animated. “Like, not a huge one. A medium bear. I think I could take it if I had a stick.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already laughing. “You wouldn’t last two minutes.”

“That’s rude,” he huffed, but he was grinning. “I’ve been working out. I could totally outsmart it.”

You teased him, he argued back, and somewhere between philosophy and hypothetical bear fights, you fell into a rhythm of ridiculousness that only made sense in the warmth of night.

And then—of course—you casually mentioned something from your day. A tiny bit of gossip from work. Something you hadn’t even thought about twice.

His eyes snapped to you, suddenly laser-focused. “Wait—what? Go back. Start from the beginning.”

“You care about this more than the bear thing,” you snorted.

“Obviously,” he said, sitting up straighter, completely invested. “You can’t just say something like that and not give details. Names. Tones of voice. I need context.”

You swore he was taking mental notes. Nodding. Gasps at the right places. Interrupting with “Noooo, they did not—” like he was the one living your life.

He was the perfect gossip partner. Dramatic, hilarious, and absolutely on your side.

By the time you were both tangled in each other again, the sky starting to pale with the first signs of dawn, your cheeks hurt from smiling. Your voices were hoarse from laughing and whispering and confessing everything from your deepest fears to your pettiest thoughts.

And Jiyong? He kissed your temple and muttered, “I love nights like this.”

So did you.

seunghyun: opening up

The room was still, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting golden shadows across the sheets. The kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket—gentle, comforting, safe. Seunghyun lay beside you, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other hand loosely linked with yours between you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, thoughtful strokes.

At first, it was nothing unusual—casual murmurs about the day, small observations about the way the moonlight filtered through the curtains. But slowly, something shifted in his voice. A softness. A weight. The pauses between his words stretched just a little longer, like he was deciding how much to reveal.

“I don’t like the quiet when I’m alone,” he said suddenly, not quite looking at you. “It gets too loud in my head.”

You turned toward him, your fingers tightening around his just slightly.

“And sometimes,” he continued, barely above a whisper, “I get scared I’m not doing enough. Or that I’ll wake up one day and… no one will really know who I am. Like they just see what they want.”

You didn’t interrupt. You just listened—fully, patiently, with the kind of presence that said I’m here, I see you.

He exhaled, eyes finally flicking toward yours. “But with you… I don’t feel like I have to be anything else. You’re the only person I feel like I can talk to like this.”

Your heart ached in the most tender way.

He wasn’t dramatic about it. He didn’t cry or fumble. He just laid it out with quiet honesty, the kind of vulnerability that only surfaced in the stillness of night—when the world was asleep and it felt like it belonged to just the two of you.

You reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good,” he murmured, eyes slipping closed. “Because I think I’d fall apart without you.”

And there, in the hush between heartbeats and the warmth of shared breath, something unspoken settled between you—deeper than comfort, louder than words.

You held his hand until sleep pulled you both under.

pov: waking up together

jiyong: clingy and lazy

The morning light spilled gently through the curtains, casting everything in a soft haze of gold. You stirred beneath the covers, blinking sleep from your eyes, stretching just enough to reach for your phone—or at least try to.

But before your fingers even grazed the edge of the nightstand, a warm arm snaked tighter around your waist, tugging you back into the curve of his body.

“Five more minutes,” Jiyong mumbled against your skin, voice rough and low with sleep, lips brushing the back of your shoulder.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Then what’s ten more?” he argued, barely coherent, already burying his face against the crook of your neck. “Actually... make it twenty. No—no wait. Let’s just cancel today.”

He tangled his legs with yours, anchoring you firmly in place like a sleepy octopus. He was warm, all bare skin and bed-tousled hair, the kind of soft that only came out in the mornings when he had not yet put up his usual guard. There was a low, contented sigh from him as he pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

You tried to move again—just a little—but his hold only tightened.

“Nope,” he mumbled. “Prisoner now. Sorry. You brought this on yourself, looking all soft and warm and perfect in my bed.”

You laughed again, quieter this time, and relaxed into his hold. His breathing slowed, but he did not fall fully back asleep. Instead, he hummed a little tune—something familiar but too sleep-drowsy to place—his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your hip beneath the sheets.

And in that moment—tangled in limbs and blankets, still wearing dreams on your skin—you let yourself forget the ticking clock, the responsibilities, the rush of the day waiting beyond the bedroom door.

Because here, in this quiet slice of morning, he was yours, and you were his, and that was more than enough.

seunghyun: the watcher

The sun had barely started its slow climb, spilling pale light across the room in quiet slants when Seunghyun blinked awake. It took him a second to orient himself, still wrapped in the warm haze of sleep—but then he saw you.

Peaceful. Soft. Curled into the blankets with your cheek squished slightly into the pillow, lips parted just so, breathing slow and even.

His heart did something weird. Not dramatic, not cinematic. Just this gentle clench that made him melt right into the mattress.

He did not move for a while—just laid there, propped on his side, chin resting against his hand as he drank in every little detail. Your tangled hair, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks, the faint creases on your forehead that always relaxed once you were truly resting. It made something inside him ache in the best way.

With a tenderness he almost never let anyone see, he reached forward and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, careful not to fully touch you. He did it slowly, as if even the air might disturb you. You shifted slightly in your sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and he froze, then smiled—this small, stupid smile that he could not hold back.

He could have watched you for hours.

But just as he leaned a little closer, your eyes began to flutter open.

Panic. He snapped his own eyes shut so fast he nearly headbutted the pillow, instantly going limp, like he had been sleeping this whole time.

You blinked slowly, adjusting to the light, and turned toward him just as he peeked out one eye, caught your gaze, and grinned—far too innocent.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, voice low and rough from sleep, his tone playful, like he had not just been staring at you like a smitten idiot for fifteen minutes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “Were you watching me?”

He feigned offense. “Me? Noooo. I was definitely asleep. Dreaming. Deep REM cycle.”

You gave him a look.

He reached out, pulled you in closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Okay… maybe I peeked.”

And maybe he would again tomorrow. And the day after that. And if he could, he would every day for the rest of his life.

daesung: ultimate morning person, unless you say otherwise

The moment Daesung’s eyes cracked open, he was already on a mission. No groggy blinking, no slow stretch—just pure, mischievous energy in a barely awake body.

He turned to face you, his grin forming before his brain even fully caught up. You were still deep in sleep, bundled under the covers like a burrito, completely at peace. Naturally, he poked your cheek.

“Good morning!” he chirped far too brightly for the ungodly hour. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

You groaned, swatting at his hand, and tried to burrow deeper into the blankets like you could disappear into them. He laughed, completely undeterred. That only made him worse.

He started tugging at the blankets with exaggerated drama, trying to peel you out like a stubborn snail from its shell. “Come on,” he sang, “the sun is shining, birds are probably singing—let’s greet the day!”

But the second you reached out, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him back down into bed with you, everything changed.

He let out a soft “oof” as he landed beside you, your body warm and close, your sleepy face nuzzling into his chest without even opening your eyes.

And just like that, the chaos in him quieted. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, and he let out a contented sigh, forehead resting against your hair.

“Oh… okay,” he whispered, his grin turning softer. “Yeah, this is better.”

He didn’t try to drag you out of bed again. Not even a little.

pov: accidentally wearing matching outfits

jiyong: totally "accidental"

It all started as a typical morning. Jiyong had woken up, not thinking much about what he was throwing on—just a loose hoodie and some joggers. Nothing special. But when he saw you coming out of the bedroom in an outfit that he liked, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, he wanted to find something to match you.

As he looked at you, something in him clicked. He liked it. You and him—matching, without even meaning to. He wasn’t one to miss a chance for a little fun, so, with a smirk, he subtly changed his outfit, picking out the exact same articles of clothing just to make it perfect. He figured he’d act like it was a total accident, though.

You had barely stepped into the room when Jiyong looked up from his phone, his gaze dragging over you in slow motion. His smirk appeared almost instantly—lazy, amused, and laced with that familiar mischief that always meant he was up to something.

“Well, well,” he said, setting his phone aside as he stood. “Look at us.”

You followed his eyes, then looked down at yourself. The realization hit immediately: same color palette, similar silhouettes, matching energy. Neither of you had planned it, but somehow, you looked like you had coordinated a full campaign shoot for ‘effortlessly stylish couple of the year.’

Jiyong tilted his head, that smirk deepening. “We’re really that in sync, huh?”

You tried to protest, but he was already halfway across the room, smoothing the sleeve of your jacket and tugging your collar gently into place with all the care of a stylist about to send his muse onto the runway. “Wait, stand still,” he said, eyes narrowing in focus. “There. Now we really look intentional.”

He pulled out his phone before you could stop him, backing up to find the best lighting. “We’re taking pictures. This is a look. People are definitely gonna think we planned it.” He started snapping photos from different angles, occasionally pausing to fix your hair or adjust your stance, completely in his element.

You laughed, half-exasperated but fully endeared. He was so into it—so delighted by the whole situation—that you couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

By the time he finished editing the perfect shot and uploaded it, you were curled up beside him on the couch, peeking over his shoulder. He posted it with a cheeky caption:

fashion soulmates. try to keep up💅

He turned to you, grinning mischievously. “I’m gonna say it—this was totally meant to be. We’re basically the coolest couple around, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous.”

He flashed you that playful smile. “I’m serious. People will think we planned it. And I definitely didn’t change to match you on purpose.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well exactly what had just happened. “Uh-huh. Sure, Jiyong.”

He gave you an innocent shrug, but his mischievous grin never left. “Okay, maybe I did change. But don’t you love it? We look good together.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head, though a part of you was totally smitten by how much fun he was having. “Alright, alright. I’ll admit it—this was way too cute to be an accident.”

With a wink, he leaned in and kissed your cheek, his playful energy never fading. “Told you. Now we’re going to be the talk of the town.”

And honestly? You couldn’t wait to see what kind of trouble the two of you would get up to next.

seunghyun: "i dont like matching"? as if!

Seunghyun had been moving around the apartment, getting ready for the day, when you walked out of the bedroom. You’d picked out your outfit—casual, comfortable, but still effortlessly stylish. You were half-focused, adjusting your jacket when you caught sight of him.

He froze mid-step, his eyes widening as they flickered from your outfit to his. There was no mistaking it. You both had practically coordinated without even trying: same muted tones, similar style, right down to the shoes.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, staring at each other. He blinked, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk.

"Wow," Seunghyun finally said, voice a little more serious than it should’ve been. “I guess we're really that in sync, huh?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You picked your clothes after me."

He tilted his head, a mock-suspicious glint in his eyes. "You think I planned this?"

You shrugged, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. He had no idea what was going on.

Then he sighed dramatically, as if this whole situation was the biggest inconvenience. “Okay, fine.” He straightened his shirt, but the corner of his mouth lifted, clearly enjoying the coincidence more than he let on. “One of us has to change.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be put out by his insistence. “What? You want me to change?”

He shot you a look. “Well, it’s not exactly my style to be that couple, you know?” But his tone wasn’t nearly as firm as he wanted it to sound. He was still staring at you, eyes flickering over your outfit once more.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was the one who was secretly enjoying this, wasn’t he?

Seunghyun, clearly feeling the weight of the situation, yanked his shirt off and grabbed another from his closet. But as he changed, he caught you looking at him with that amused smile of yours, and he couldn’t help but grin back. He paused, shirt halfway pulled over his head, as if contemplating something. Then, without missing a beat, he picked out a jacket that just so happened to be the exact same shade as yours.

“I can’t even,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, but the soft smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much you were enjoying this.

He turned back to you, a playful glint in his eyes. “What? It’s practical.”

Before you could respond, he pulled the jacket on, looked at himself in the mirror, and adjusted the sleeves—making sure everything matched perfectly. He caught you staring and just shrugged. “Guess we’re meant to be, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind one bit. In fact, you liked the idea.

When you both finally headed out for the day, Seunghyun walked just a little closer than usual. His shoulder brushed against yours more than once as you made your way down the street, and when you’d turn to say something, he’d catch your eye and give you a teasing grin, his hand lingering just a fraction of an inch from yours.

You both acted like you didn’t care about the matching outfits—but the way he was so careful not to get too far ahead of you, the way his hand brushed against yours whenever you were close, told a different story. It was subtle, but you could feel the shift.

Maybe you were that couple after all.

And honestly, you didn’t mind in the slightest.

daesung: couple of the year

You stood in front of the mirror, your eyes widening as you looked at yourself and then back at Daesung. He stood beside you, both of you in practically the same exact outfit—simple, but somehow perfect. The same oversized sweater, the same color jeans, even the same shoes. It wasn’t intentional, but here you were, looking like a walking, talking couple’s Instagram post.

Daesung’s jaw dropped dramatically as he took you in. "Oh my god, we look AMAZING," he said, his voice high-pitched, making you laugh even before he could finish his sentence. He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you toward him and spinning you around as if you were both on stage. "We’re matching! We look so good. We should do this every day!"

Before you could protest, Daesung was already striking a ridiculous pose in front of you, hand on his hip and one foot kicked out, his free arm reaching for the sky like he was a fashion model. "Look at us," he continued, giggling. "Couple of the year, no competition!"

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the way he was making such a big deal out of something so silly. He was completely hyped, his infectious energy filling the room.

When you both stepped out into public, Daesung was practically glowing. He was all about it, constantly hyping you up. “Look at us,” he’d say to anyone who walked by, “we’re matching! Like, we’re so in sync, we should be on a reality show.”

He even dragged you into poses on street corners, trying to capture the “perfect couple” shot with his phone. “We’re so cute together," he teased, striking an over-the-top pose while you just shook your head, still giggling.

"Daesung, stop," you said, laughing but feeling completely warmed by his enthusiasm. He gave you a dramatic, offended look.

“Nope, not stopping,” he grinned. “You look too good not to take pictures. Look at us—we’re iconic!”

There was no way you could argue with him. Not with the way he was looking at you, all excited and proud, like he had just won some award for being the cutest couple on earth.

At that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like he was right. You did look amazing together. And even though you hadn’t planned it, maybe, just maybe, matching outfits weren’t such a bad idea after all.

pov: you wear his shirt and tiny shorts as pajamas

jiyong: #needthat

You stir awake, stretching beneath the soft fabric of his oversized shirt. The material is a bit too big, draping off your shoulders, and the tiny pair of shorts you decided to slip into make you feel oddly exposed, but also comfortably safe. You hadn’t expected him to be awake already, but the moment your eyes flutter open, you see him standing in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame.

His eyes immediately darken with mischief, a playful glint catching in his gaze. "Well, well, good morning to you too." His voice is low, smooth, and thick with intent, making your heart skip in your chest. His smirk widens as he takes you in—his shirt, his favorite one, hanging loosely around you.

You laugh nervously, pulling the fabric down a little, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze a little too strongly. But he doesn't look away; instead, he steps closer, his eyes raking over your form like he’s savoring the sight.

"You really like wearing my stuff, huh?" he asks, the teasing note in his voice only making the atmosphere heavier, more charged. "Can’t get enough of me?"

You try to respond, but the words get caught in your throat as he closes the distance between you two. His hands are on the edge of the bed now, and he leans down slightly, his face inches from yours, that mischievous smile never leaving his lips. "How about you stay here a little longer? Just for me?" he suggests, his voice rough but full of affection, teasing you with an underlying heat that makes your pulse race.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he’s climbing onto the bed beside you, moving so fluidly it feels like he’s done this a thousand times. He doesn’t let you move, gently but firmly pulling you closer until you’re pressed against his chest.

His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, "I’m not letting you go. Not today. Not when you look like that."

And just like that, you realize—you’re not going anywhere, and neither is he.

seunghyun: restrained and tempted

You woke up to the soft morning light spilling into the room, the quiet hum of the world outside just barely reaching your ears. The shirt you were wearing was his, oversized and too big for you, with the sleeves hanging off your shoulders. The tiny pair of shorts you had paired with it seem to emphasize how much you were wrapped up in his clothes—comfortable but undeniably intimate. You stood and stretched lazily, making the shirt ride up to reveal the shorts which tucked into the very top of your thighs. You were blissfully unaware that he had been watching you the entire time.

A few moments passed before you hear the door creak. You turn your head slowly, and there he is, leaning against the frame, eyes locked on you. The look he gave you sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. His gaze was intense, scanning you from head to toe, noticeably stopping on your plush thighs leading his eye to imagine your naked torso under his shirt. He said nothing for a long moment, simply staring as if trying to process the sight in front of him.

His breath caught, and finally, he let out a deep sigh, like he was trying to force himself to stay grounded. “You really expect me to focus on anything else today?” His morning voice was rough, laced with disbelief. He looked almost... tortured by the sight of you.

You couldn't help but smirk, feeling the heat between you rise. You made a show of stretching again, casually flipping the hair from your face, loving how his eyes followed your every movement. His eyes darkened even more as his lips parted, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, maybe I’m just… too tempting for you,” you replied, voice soft, but heavy with challenge.

He stepped closer to the bed, and for a split second, you think he might have actually said something else, but instead, his jaw clenched and he exhaled sharply. "I swear... you’re killing me, you know that?"

You laughed, a little smug, but he cut off any further comment by gently pushing you down against the mattress, not saying a word more. He just stared down at you, almost too calm now, as if gathering himself. "You're not going anywhere today," he murmered firmly. "Not when you look like this."

You made no attempt to resist him.

daesung: juvenile embarrassment

You were lying in bed, stretched out in his oversized shirt and a tiny pair of shorts that you typically ended up wearing as pajamas. You are trying to act casual, stretching and yawning, but then you felt it—the weight of his gaze on you. You glanced over and saw him standing in the doorway, his eyes going wide as he took in the sight of you.

“Oh my god, you looks so cute!” He blurted out, his voice way too loud for this early in the morning. He was grinning like a schoolboy who had just gotten away with something, his eyes flicking from your legs to the shirt and back up to your face. His hands immediately going to his face like he was trying to compose himself. “No, no, this is not okay. I need you like this every day. You cannot keep doing this to me.”

Before you could even say anything, he made it over to you in two long strides, and lifted you off the bed and spun you around like a child. His hands gripped under your thighs tightly, but not in the way that was gentle. It was almost possessive—like he couldn't stand the thought of you not being this close. His breath was ragged against your neck, and you could feel his heartbeat in sync with yours.

“Okay, okay,” he rasped, but you can hear the raw desperation in his voice. “I need you to wear my shirt more often. Seriously. You look... like the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t even breathe properly.” He was laughing a little, but it was almost as if the humor is a cover for just how turned on he is. That was absolutely what it was.

You tried to pull away, but he was already dragging you back to the bed, not even giving you a chance to protest. “Nope,” he declared, grinning mischievously. “You’re not leaving this bed today. Nope, I’m keeping you right here. And don’t think you’re getting away with anything else either. We’re staying like this, just me and you, all day. Got it?” His eyes glinted with a cocky kind of possessiveness.

And as he laid you back into the bed, his hands gently ran over your shirt, you could feel just how badly he wanted you—but he was going to make sure he kept you close in every possible way.

hehehe these are sooo fun! if you have any scenario you’d like to see in a part 4, do let me know!

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