#husband jiyong | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stargvvt · 29 days ago

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i love this so much🐺🐺🐺

falling for the mafia boss's son, kwon jiyong

notes minors dni contains fem reader, non idol au, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the late 90s (hence the mention of certain technology or media,) mentions of smoking and drinking, reader and jiyong are both twenty-four, very much slice of life and dialogue heavy, very cute and banter-filled meeting!, jiyong being a flirt (or my attempt at writing flirting,) jiyong and reader are down bad (a lot of banter, her parents are on the stricter side; he has to sneak in) reader and jiyong being silly, yearning, angst (miscommunication, mentions of his hardships, he wants to protect reader from his life but to a fault, arguments, he shows up injured one night and you tend to his wounds YUPPPP, mention of insecurities, reader lowkey needs new friends), smut (keeping quiet, dry humping, oral f receiving, sub!jiyong, p in v, reader gives jiyong a pair of her panties,) and inevitable typos.

requested? no, this is an original idea! its certainly is a 180 from the last jiyong fic i posted, but what is creativity without ambition! so here goes nothing! this is long. enjoy :)

the time on jiyong's watch read 9:13 pm, his eyes drifting to the summer night sky above. it was hot as fuck. the street lamp's fluorescent lighting flickered, making him blink increasingly harder, distracting him from properly inhaling the lit cigarette between his lips—unceremoniously landing a bead of sweat initially perspiring from his temple into his eye. "shit." his mutter disappeared into the commotion of whatever his friends were going back and forth over. last he checked, it was something about someone's car, or some movie, but the other side of his brain just processed technotronic coming from the house the party they were all invited to tonight was in. jiyong took his cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers, using his other hand to rub his bothered eye. neither of his friends took notice, enwrapped in conversation, taking drags of the cigarettes they bummed off jiyong after parking the car some ten minutes ago. a long, defeated breath deflated his chest. "hot as shit, bro—god damn." that earned him concurring nods, their gazes following him to the house peeking over the wooden fence behind them. jiyong wiped his forehead, kissing his teeth disapprovingly; the back of his hand glistened with sweat. he took one last drag of his cigarette, dropping it onto the sidewalk and putting it out with his sneaker. "place better have some fucking ac," he said, turning to his friends. "you ready to head in? alright, lets go."

to his joy, there was air conditioning! and not many people were in the house, so he could actually feel it! hallelujah! he sunk into the couch like it was nobody's business after making himself a drink, laying his head back, letting the rum and coke glide down his throat with a satisfied huff. he mouthed the few lyrics he knew to the music playing from the backyard, trailing into the house from the partially-open sliding door. jiyong's eyes opened at the sound of loud footsteps clambering down the stairs, catching glimpses of a friend group walking down the hall leading through the kitchen and into the backyard. he planned on joining whatever was going on out there later in the night—his friends did so immediately after getting their drinks—but for now, he minded his own. he liked parties, and went to most that he was invited to—unless his father had something to say about it, of course—but his social battery didn't sustain for long. he liked the quiet, or at least as quiet as it could get; settling with himself for the time being.

a while after finishing his drink, he went searching for a bathroom. the one on the first floor was occupied, so he headed upstairs; he's been here before, specifically the barbecue that happened a few weeks ago to usher in summertime. it felt humid upstairs with the window behind the landing wide open, laughter from below mixing in with the speaker sounding like it was on its last breath every time the bass kicked in. just as jiyong raised his knuckles to knock, the door swung open, catching him off guard but startling you entirely. "oh my god." you placed a hand over your heart, eyes closed. jiyong didn't know what to do in those passing couple seconds—his hand was still in the air. you smiled, amused at yourself. "didn't expect that," you muttered to yourself, opening your eyes. "my bad—here you go."

you stepped to the left to make room for him to enter and you exit, but he happened to step the same direction with similar intention. an upside down grin molded your face, hearing him awkwardly chuckle. "stay there." the sound of your warm giggle drizzled over his ears like honey, making him perk up and pay the fuck attention. jiyong's eyes followed you whilst you walked by his right. his feet moved before he knew it, his head looking away when you turned to look at him. in those three seconds, a whirlwind of thoughts ran through either of you. for jiyong, it was she's fine as hell; the image of you in your shirt and denim shorts lingering in his mind for as long as he wanted, topped by the sound of your clipped voice fading with each passing moment since he heard so little.

for you, it was the slight furrow of your eyebrows whilst you descended down the stairs: was that who she was talking about? you wondered—thinking back to the pregame at your friend's house earlier in the evening. rumors had floated around about ju . . . was it—no, its ji. jiyong? yeah, that—about jiyong's family, more-so his father, but no one ever had the gall to ask him. did they just not want to be caught in their own bluff, or afraid of unleashing a weapon-bearing fight if they properly dared mention it to him? no one knows, nor was willing to attempt. your city wasn't necessarily small, but it also wasn't large enough for anyone to fall through the cracks. you could pinpoint countless times throughout the years where you overheard speculations of his family's true source of income whilst in line at the local donut shop on sunday mornings, or his supposed home life becoming the topic of discussion at the sleepover once the clock hit two in the morning—but actually coming across him? perhaps a few times at the grocery store, fleetingly at parties, seeing him walking up the block with his friends, or in his car waiting for the traffic light to turn green—like any other neighbor.

you tsked to yourself, remembering something else from the pregame: "i heard he's been getting a lot of tattoos lately." a friend said after someone else brought up the rumor he'd be at the same party you were all going to, pouring the group shots—nothing was left in the house after scrounging the last few pours of cuervo tequila, so you all made due with the singular zima found in the fridge. you never liked the beer alternative, so on top of holding your miniature glass with a slight grimace, her baseless observation just deepened it: "you think that has anything to do with . . . you know . . . his family?" what did that have to do with anything? people have tattoos for whatever reasons . . . not to fit some aimless narrative. now that the anecdote came back, you do remember seeing a pair of detailed wings tattooed on the back of his neck—so he had to be the, for lack of a better term, infamous jiyong. unless there was someone else with the same name? you thought, until you realized how stupid you sounded. that was him, and that was it.

jiyong made his way outside, shouting over the music for his friends to hear him. it was relatively crowded. partygoers were dispersed all throughout the yard—some roasting s'mores by the small fire pit on the corner of the tiled pavement leading into the grass, others bickering over the party mixtape, and many either cheersing or throwing out their red solo cups for new ones. jiyong spotted you on the other side of the yard, talking to a friend whilst sat in the patio swing. his attention left his own friends, inner monologue drowning them out: move, motherfucker. that person must have heard him via some inter-dimensional force. though he couldn't overhear, your friend excused herself to get some snacks from the kitchen, leaving you temporarily on your own—but not if he had anything to say about it. he left his friends wordlessly mid conversation, making his way over. jiyong didn't think ahead much and acted more-so on autopilot, nearly stopping in his tracks when you looked up from your seat.

"did you wanna sit here?" the nicety slipped out before you could stop yourself, gesturing to the empty seat, halfway to standing on your feet. "i can move." "no, its okay." jiyong shook his head. it clicked for you: oh wow. its him, again. "i can—i'll just. . ." jiyong cut himself off by sitting down. it took a moment for you to process what was happening. "oh," an upside down grin tugged at your mouth. "alright." you sat down, inadvertently copying the direction of his gaze watching the party before you, lingering in one another's peripheries. your friend returned outside, equipped with a small plastic bowl of mini pretzels and potato chips, nearly dropping it upon seeing who took her spot. she scurried to the other side of the yard as fast as her flip flops would let her, grabbing the shoulder of whomever in your friend group that was in her nearest reach; scrambling to find the words, only able to point hurriedly in your direction.

whilst their mouths fell agape, yours remained closed. you glanced at him from the side, fingers toying with the bottom hem of your shirt. jiyong crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes remaining ahead; unsure of what to say but sure of his decision to come to you. albeit . . . he felt a little stupid. he was usually quite smooth with it, and if he was awkward, there was an indescribable charm coupled with it. he wasn't necessarily at a loss for words (at least that's what he told himself,) but it was one of those times where he acted before thinking it through—hence the silence. you turned your head fully to look at him. "is there something you wanted to bring up?" "hm?" he was caught off guard, turning his head towards you. jiyong jutted his bottom lip, shaking his head. "no. why?" you shrugged your shoulders. "people don't usually follow the person they ran into in the bathroom, let alone sit next to them." "i didn't follow you." jiyong countered. "we're at the same party." "okay. you tracked me down, then." "tracked you down?" his furrowed eyebrows amused you, seeing him fall into your unserious trap. "what're you talking about? we're at the same party." he repeated, a little defensive.

you shrugged your shoulders again. "i don't know. seems kind of fishy." "what does?" "this." "how? i'm just sitting here." "next to someone you don't know." "so?" "people don't just do that. even when they're at the same party." "they do." jiyong wanted to win. win what? he didn't know. "they do when they're—when they're . . ." he cut himself off, growing embarrassed. "when they're what?" you asked. jiyong swallowed, adjusting his posture. "when—when they're. . ." he hated that he started to build a sweat, and the humid night air wasn't to blame. "when the other person's really, uh—really pretty." you looked at him. he didn't dare look at you. a big smile unraveled across your face. "all of that," you said. "just for you to be cheesy as fuck." jiyong didn't expect to laugh as hard as he did, let alone his hand that shot up to his mouth, clutching his lips to hold it on—until he glanced at you and caught your eyes on him, the both of you losing it.

"oh god." jiyong hid his face behind his palms. "was it really that bad?" he asked, opening a gap between his pointer and middle fingers, peering up at you. "don't try to save face with that cute shit." you dismissed. "you think i'm cute?" his hands slid back down, a knowing smile on his face. "that's—that's not what i was trying to—" you stumbled on your words. he nodded along, eyebrows slightly furrowed in faux-thought. "oh, okay," he barely hid his grin; now we're back on track, he thought to himself. "what were you trying to say, then? hm?" "go away." you told him, turning away, arms crossed over your chest whilst his eyes stayed on you. "if really you don't like it, you can get up yourself." "no, because i asked you first. and you're the one who came over here." "i don't see you leaving." jiyong said. you let out a breath, admittedly defeated. a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, turning into a full-blown smile when seeing your hand make a talking gesture—the same one waving him off with a small scoff.

jiyong noticed how you both sat with your arms over your chest, finding it endearing. his eyes fell to his knee, mere centimeters away from yours. if only i just sat a little closer. "you're funny." he said, eyes on your knee. "i like that." your hand slipped from underneath your arm, coming up to fan your face. "did you hear me ask what you liked?" this bickering feels like we've been married for decades, his inner monologue voiced. jiyong leaned towards you a little, his movement earning your eyes. "i like a challenge." his voice was smooth, getting his edge back. until you humbled him in a way eliciting whiplash: "that didn't land in the way you thought it would." jiyong let out a breath, eyes closing as he sat back in defeat. "you have me spent." "you've barely tried." you retorted, an upside down grin on your face as you looked down at your lap.

jiyong's eyes opened, sitting up, stretching his arm out before him. "i came all the way over here to talk to you!" he exclaimed, defending himself. "i've been trying!" "so you didn't just come here to rest that pretty head of yours?" your flirting flew right past his senses, jiyong prioritizing the bickering: "this is going nowhere." he crossed his arms over his chest begrudgingly. "it is," you corrected him. "you're just being dramatic for no reason." "i'm not being—" he was about to argue, until your words sunk into his psyche. "oh—it is?" you nodded, cheeks warming, pad of your ring finger wiping the built-up sweat off the side of your nose. it took a moment before jiyong said something: "what worked?" he asked. you shrugged your shoulders yet again, pondering in thought, though you had the answer. "you're funny." jiyong tsked, hiding his sheepish grin by turning his head the opposite direction. "it was fuckin' stupid when i said that." he said, still loud enough for you to hear over the music playing some twenty or so feet away. "it wasn't." you said. "it was cute."

jiyong looked at you; ego boosted, but his smile and raised eyebrow reflected his heart doubling in size. "so you do think i'm cute?" "i owe you after you admitted you came over here to talk to me. even if it was apparent from the beginning." that last part was half-bluff—you weren't completely sure, a bit taken aback when he first approached and sat down. you didn't know where this was going to go, but when it did take off, you would be remised not to have some fun. jiyong was sweet; quickly introducing himself as a witty conversationalist whom both matched your energy and kept you on your toes. his banter was fruitful and his clever use of profanity even more so—like the anecdote of when some guy gave him senseless trouble outside of his cousin's birthday dinner a couple years ago: "i told him that i am indeed the type. the fuck i was, the fuck i am, the fuck i will be." "i can't lie, jiyong. you curse pretty good." or when you told him about the argument that broke out between your friends over what movie to rent from blockbuster last weekend: "its not my fault that i didn't want to waste my time when i've been begging to what feels like a brick wall for months to see angelina jolie in 'gia.' i'm not sorry." "fuck no—and you shouldn't be."

jiyong looked like any other twenty something year old—hiding awkward tendencies behind a charming yet nervous chuckle, or going off on an unbridged tangent about a tv show he likes because he wants to fill the silence; keeping a pretty girl like you tethered to him by any means he could think of. but if anyone looked close enough (and you did, because he was fine), they would find something off about his ensemble of a loose-fitting graphic tee, scuffed sneakers, and basketball shorts paired with hair that looked fresh despite his dried sweat; side taper half-hidden underneath the hair that fell so effortlessly into his comma cut—a little too fresh. or perhaps the most perplexing clue of all: the two-toned watch that fell up and down his wrist whenever he moved his arm. you didn't know much about being rich, or differentiating fake luxury items from the real deal, but how the band of the watch molded against his wrist like it was part of him, and the dial that stared you down whenever he fixed his hair, told you he didn't mess around.

his eyes softened whenever your hand came up to fan your face or swat away gnats, noticing the slight sheen glazing your nose and forehead with a small grin on his face. you looked beautiful. the fact that you gave him the time of day was attractive enough—you didn't need to go out of your way to re-adjust your posture, making your plush thighs rub against the swing's cushioned seats in a way that stole his common sense, or your laughter making his eyes kiss in their corners, his right hand gripping the arm rest to keep his balance. jiyong didn't keep track of the time, so when his friends came over—one who perhaps had one too many, and the other with his arm slung around his shoulders—saying it was a good time to get out of there, he thought quickly on his feet: "its all good, man. i'll—i'll meet you at the car in, like, five minutes."

jiyong stood up, you mimicking his movements without thinking. "do you have a mobile?" he asked you. "no," you shook your head with an iota of irrational shame. "was—was never able to afford one." you let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "its all good." jiyong assured. "whats your home phone? i'll call you." your eyes widened, shaking your head with an added sense of urgency: "my—my parents would never." "oh, okay. i got you." he nodded, understanding. the grin on his face was knowing and a bit cocky, taking a step closer to you. "what should we do then, hm? i'm not leaving here without an answer, y'know." "what about your friend?" "don't worry about him." jiyong said softly, subtly shaking his head. "he could hurl all over the street—like i give a fuck. i'm only here for you." you tsked, looking away to thwart the flustered feeling creeping up your neck. jiyong put his hands in his pockets, grinning when you spoke: "you really need to stop with this cute shit, jiyong." "i don't see you walking away, now do i?" he quipped, chuckling when you nudged his shoulder. he liked this feeling. "cmon," he gestured with his head. "i know you got something. tell me."

you looked at him after a moment. "you're lucky i have the day off tomorrow." "i do consider myself the richest man in the world." "oh my god, fuck off!" your exclaim slipped into clipped laughter, in disbelief over his commitment to the bit. "i'll give you my home phone. but you can only call at specific times, and when i tell you to." "i'll make anything work for you." you scoffed, only deepening his upside down grin. "you're not getting any reactions out of me anymore." you said, only to stumble on your words when he jutted out his bottom lip. "come with—come to the kitchen. i'll find a napkin to write it down, or some shit." and call jiyong did—at noon, just like you told him after scribbling your number down with a bic pen on its last few drops of ink. it was about ten minutes after your parents left the apartment to make the weekly grocery run, strategically landing you at home to finish washing the dishes from breakfast. you dropped the sudsy pan into the sink without second thought when the phone rang, hastily wiping your rinsed hands on your shirt, dashing behind the counter and to the living room.

"hello?" "sorry i'm late—had to get away from my parents." jiyong laid more comfortably in his bed, foot shoving a stray sock off his comforter; the rustling transferring from his nokia. you looked over your shoulder at the analog clock hanging next to a framed family photo, seeing it was barely past 12:01. "you're actually quite punctual." you told him. "you sound surprised." he said. "can you blame me? you're a man." "not just any man—" "—its only been, like, ten seconds," you cut him off, sitting down on the couch. "don't make me already contemplate hanging up." jiyong smiled wide. "you're sharp." he said. "i like that." "in the twelve hours that we've known each other, i don't think i've ever asked what you like. and i don't plan on it." "i think you're just going to have to suck it the fuck up, because i like you." he let out a satisfied huff hearing you scoff. "plus, i think we've known each other for more than twelve hours. i've seen you before. the grocery store, maybe? i knew you looked familiar—think i finally placed you." he tried to play it cool, though he knew the answer.

"most likely, yeah." you nodded despite him not being able to see, your other hand twirling the phone cord between your fingers. did he think about me last night? "i've been working there part-time for a while. its been hard finding a full-time gig, as embarrassing as it feels to be two years post-grad." "i don't think you should feel bad. its hard out here." said jiyong, sincerity coming through the grainy audio. "i mean, i went to columbia, but you don't see me in a suit with a briefcase and shit." "hold on," you waved your hand. "you can't just be the most random person i've ever met." "what do you mean?" "i went to a nobody-knows community college that i'm sure will be caught in a class action lawsuit for money laundering in ten years time, but i'm just sat here talking to a scholar?" jiyong chuckled, running his hand over his warming face. "i'm not a scholar, i'll tell you that much." he toyed with a loose thread on his comforter—memories of his father repeatedly reeling how much he poured into his spot at the university flashing in his head, beckoned away with a small, defiant flick of his head.

you brought him back down to earth: "i'm gonna go get my thesaurus." he kissed his teeth disapprovingly, pout evident in his voice. "like the fuck you are. stay on the phone." he panicked slightly at the prolonged (it was five seconds) silence from your end of the line. "please?" you grinned. "you're really cheesy." you teased. "how is talking to a fine ass woman fuckin' cheesy?" "you can't just say shit like that casually, jiyong." "well, i will. hear me loud and clear." he cleared his throat into the receiver, catching you off guard, holding back your laughter. "you're fine as hell. do i need to keep saying it?" "maybe." "are you free for dinner tonight? i'll tell you in person." "maybe." "what'll convince you?" you said the first thing you thought of: "if you wear that watch of yours again." jiyong smiled, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "you like the finer things in life. don't you, baby?" he said smoothly. your cheeks felt warmer by the second, unsure of what you just started. "its hard to take you seriously when i can hear that smug grin on your face." you responded, voice akin to velvet despite the crackles over the line. "you already know me so well." jiyong's fingers toyed with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "m'starting to think we're meant to be. that doesn't sound corny, does it?"

"i'm relieved you're able to pinpoint that yourself now." you heard him chuckle. "and, no. it doesn't for once. you can be sweet when you want to be." "i can be good." he told you earnestly. "i can be really good, you know." "i believe you." you told him. "i hear it in your voice." a beat went by. "you know," said jiyong. "i didn't think you were capable of being nice." "don't be a dumbass right now, jiyong. this was such a good moment." you couldn't stop the grin stretching your mouth hearing him burst into laughter. "you're goofy as fuck, boy. oh my goodness." you giggled, running a hand over your face. "okay—okay, stop laughing. do you know where we're going for dinner? because i've long thought of what i'm going to say to get out tonight." jiyong got serious real quick. "oh shit—damn, okay. let me think." he cleared his throat. "there's this—there's this place i know by the rec center that has really good subs. does that sound—" "—fine by me." you didn't give a fuck what you ate. you just wanted to see him. "okay. okay, cool." jiyong nodded, licking his lips in thought. "you wanna meet there? or i could—i could come pick you up, if thats okay. i know we just met and all. and your parents might not be the most . . ." you waited for his choice of word. he didn't disappoint. "enthusiastic."

you let out a laugh. "you're right." you said. "you can pick me up from one block over." "whatever works for you works for me." "i can't lie to you, jiyong," you said. he hasn't sure where this was going. "but i really like the sound of that." jiyong took his ear off his phone, turning his head the opposite direction on his pillow, silently screaming into his palm. i hit the jackpot! i hit the fucking jackpot! his inner monologue rejoiced. he quickly brought the phone back to his ear: "you do?" "mhm." the sound of your voice made him kick at nothing, covering his face from no one. "i do, jiyong." "oh my god." he muttered. "i think i love you." you scoffed, unable to thwart your grin or increasingly flustered state. "what's my favorite fucking color, jiyong?" "i still think i love you," he avoided the question. "i'll know by the end of tonight, anyway." "i don't even want to ask if you're referring to my favorite color or whether you love me because you're starting to get on my nerves." "is it the right one?" "jiyong." "at least tell me if its the right one. look, i'll be honest and tell you that i'm just really happy i sat next to you last night." a moment went by before you spoke. "i am too." you said honestly. "and yes. it was the right nerve." jiyong buried himself behind his palm. "tell me where i should pick you up from. i can be there at seven."

it wasn't long before you started sneaking him in. up the fire escape that conveniently lead into your bedroom on the second floor of the apartment building you've lived in your entire life—it was a no brainer. it also wasn't long before jiyong got you a pager and mobile phone to go with it. to use at your own leisure, of course, but also already programmed with speed dial: "just press eight and i'll pick up anytime." "anytime?" "anytime, baby." "even when you're on the shitter?" "now that you mention it, yes. even when i'm on the shitter." jiyong came at ten pm on the dot on nights you gave him the green light. those first few times, it often began with the two of you bickering in hushed whispers when he didn't lift his leg high enough to climb over the windowsill, losing his balance and leading his foot to come clambering down, echoing off the steel grates.

you looked at each other in silent panic, his eyes dashing to your door behind you; both listening for footsteps, his shoulders sinking in relief when nothing followed, only to straighten back up when you smacked his shoulder. "get it the fuck together!" you whisper-yelled. "do you want my parents to wake up!?" "alright, alright—damn!" jiyong tsked, clearly annoyed, but his voice remained quiet. "its not my fault the developer built this shit higher than a fucking city skyscraper!" "use your nimble legs, they usually get you far enough." "i don't have nimble—" "—its a compliment, jiyong." "i don't have time for fuckin' riddles. give me your shoulder—it'll help me balance." he beckoned you over, hearing you huff. you stepped forward, feeling his palm secure your left shoulder. you leaned in as he prepared to attempt to climb in again, hand on his other cheek, bringing his closest to your lips. "you whiny baby." you whispered. "you making fun of me isn't helping either of us." "that wasn't me making fun of you." "you know what—i can just head home." he gestured behind him. "my car is right across the street." you looked him in the eyes, waiting for a moment or two. "i don't see you leaving, jiyong." "well, i was just—" "—get inside before i close the window."

he watched you like you just did him. "right—goodnight." you reached up to pull the window down. jiyong scrambled; "wait, no—shit! wait!" he reached up and tousled his hands with yours, either of your fingers clumped together. his face was directly in front of yours, looking into your eyes. a small, please-forgive-me grin stretched his mouth. "you look really pretty." he whispered sweetly. "just shut up and get inside." you stepped aside, feeling his hand on your shoulder. he climbed in successfully, arms making residence around your waist in no time, bringing you in for a kiss. "you're lucky i like you." he whispered hurriedly with intent, quickly reconnecting your lips. "excuse me?" you felt him giggle against your lips. "its—its the other way around. have to deal with your goofy shit all the time." "but you like it, right? because you like me." his arms pulled you closer to him, your supple cheek squishing against his lips. "right?" he kissed harder, your failed attempt at acting annoyed manifesting in a curt tsk. jiyong was in his own world: "right, my pretty girl?" "i wanna say no just to fuck with you." jiyong abruptly stopped, sinking his face into your neck. "i like hugging you." he murmured. "i think you just like annoying me." his giggle was your answer, feeling a chaste kiss pressed dotingly onto your neck when your hands traveled up his back and into his hair. "you're a pain in the ass."

jiyong was someone who knew what he wanted. so when he asked to be official after your second date, you were surprised and even let out a small laugh, thinking he was playing—but he was dead serious: "you've known me for less than a week, jiyong." you said from his passenger's seat. his gaze left your apartment building a block down and returned to you, shrugging his shoulders. "i mean, sure—yeah." he concurred, wiping the sweat off his forehead. the mechanic still didn't fix his ac right. "but i'd say i've known you long enough to know that i want you." he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it was. why waste time, especially when you know the other person feels the same? warmth mounted your cheeks, averting your gaze to the center console. "can i think about it?" you asked. jiyong grinned, eyes momentarily watching your fingers glide against the leather lining of the console, avoiding the urge to hold your hand by tapping his own against the steering wheel. "yeah," he responded gently. "but i already kinda know what the answer is." "no you don't." you tried to quip, your quiet voice a giveaway. "did you not say yes to getting ice cream tomorrow? at the pier? maybe i misheard—" "—you didn't, ji."

he smiled. "good. thats good." he spoke softly. he faced you, eyes fluttering down before taking your hand in his. he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss. he turned to your palm, mouth molding against the clammy skin before making his way down to your wrist. his eyes opened when your nerves acted before you could think, wordlessly calling him over to you when your palm now rested against his cheek. jiyong moved without an iota of hesitation, leaning over the center console. his eyes looked into yours with a look of can i?, voice unexpectedly barely moving a morsel above a whisper. "can i kiss—" "—yes. come here." he didn't need to be told twice, closing that gap damn near immediately. your hands held his face when he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. his lips felt soft albeit somewhat chapped, molding against your lips in a way that made a shaky breath exit your nostrils; his hand trailing up your thigh.

"jesus—fuck." you were startled by someone lugging their garbage into the dumpster a few feet away from the car, a hand coming up to your chest as jiyong cursed under his breath. he looked over your shoulder, eyes narrowing at the unsuspecting stranger. his attention returned to you upon feeling your fingers toy with the collar of his graphic tee. jiyong leaned in, the chaste kiss sweet. "my answer's yes." you muttered against his lips. "that's news to no one, baby." his hand rested atop your thigh, thumb tracing your plush skin. "at least act surprised," you tutted, holding his face in your hands, amused at his lips being half-puckered; clearly expecting another kiss. "i have a reputation to uphold." he smiled, not hiding his chuckle, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "what—for who?" you tried to come up with something witty, but each passing second prevented anything from landing correctly. you shrugged your shoulders, playfully defeated. "i can't lie to you—i've heard them say that in movies, and it always sounded really cool." he erupted into colorful laughter, his forehead falling to your shoulder. you caught him, unable to hold your own giggles back.

nights in your bedroom were spent underneath your duvet; recounting your days to each other in hushed whispers, making plans for future dates after swiping that day's newspaper from the kitchen counter—"'eyes wide shut' is still playing? seunghyun mentioned wanting to see it recently, i think. i think he went the other day." "tom cruise kind of freaks me out. what about 'but i'm a cheerleader,' tomorrow at 7:15? i heard its good fun.", giggling in between sweet kisses, or attempting to stay quiet if things got heated. whether it was you unbuttoning his jeans or his hand slipping past the hem of your underwear, either of your free hands was covering the other's mouth. jiyong's mewls were muffled behind your palm as your fist pumped his hardened cock— incessant ruffling of his briefs against your hand hidden behind the innocent creak of the bed when you turned onto your back to spread your thighs further, giving his thumb enough leverage to nurse your clit. his body followed your movements without hesitation, laying on his side, bottom lip caught between his teeth at how your t-shirt bunched up in the space between the bottom of your back and the top of your ass—breathing heavily into your palm.

it was easy to tuck him underneath your shirt when he made love to those perky nipples, relishing in the sound of your sharp breath after the chill of his watch band pressed against the warm, bouncy skin of your right breast, his tongue tending to the left. his ministrations were experienced, but how his hand trailed up and down your side, squeezing and rubbing your hip dotingly felt personal. or the way he hummed to himself in satisfaction from time to time, muttering whispers of "one and only," and "how can you be so fucking hot." he didn't give a fuck that his lips were begging for some vaseline, or that his jaw was feeling increasingly tighter—your breathy "jiyong, baby . . ." was all he needed to hear to keep going. even better if you arched your back, squishing his nose against your chest whilst his re-adjusting his posture stretches out the shirt you slept in. he moved to your right breast, encircling your areola before capturing it between his lips. he moved to lay atop you, waist between your thighs.

you felt his bulge against you. "you know whats f-f—mmph!—funny?" you whispered. "hm?" jiyong hummed. "you're in the perfect p-position t-to—s-shit—to f-fuck me if you wanted to." "don't put that idea into my head," jiyong whispered quickly, popping sotly off of your nipple. "you don't know how long i've been thinking about that." "there's no way we'd stay quiet enough, s-so forget 'b-bout it—least for now—shit!" your hand shot up, covering your mouth as the warmth of his tongue made your eyes roll back. "s-show me." it was hard to clarify with how scattered your mind was at the moment. "p-pretend to—i can feel you—j-ji, baby." you cut yourself off, thinking it was useless to try to compose yourself; thoughts coming out fragmented. he got the message, though—practically shoving of his cock caged in his briefs against your clothed pussy, moving his hips against yours. you let out a small gasp, back arching. jiyong collided his hips harshly with yours, feeling your thighs jiggle and a sound of surprise from your lips. "damn! go slow!" you exclaimed in a whisper, amused smile evident in your tone.

he did it again, eliciting a peculiar small grunt from his forcibly-muted efforts, amusing you further. "i get you that hot and bothered, huh?" "you have no fucking i-idea—f-fuck." he came to a halt, catching his breath, feeling how desperate his dick was between his fucking temples. "if you act up like this," you said. "then there's no way we can fuck here." "no—i'll behave myself." he hurriedly assured, making you grin. "i'll behave, baby. i will. holy fuck—its hot under here." jiyong carefully slid out from underneath your shirt, gradually standing on his knees on the bed. he let out a breath, wiping his cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. "like i was saying," he let out a breath. "i'll behave—" "you're ridiculous." you cut him off. jiyong looked down at you, seeing you propped up on your elbows. "what?" "since when did you rival fedex?" "what?" he repeated, confused—until he followed your gaze; so hard, and with how the fabric of his briefs looked, it was as if his dick doubled in size.

he bit at corner of his bottom lip, hands on his hips. "i mean—" he began. "you asked me to show you, so here you go." you tsked, raising your leg, nudging his shoulder with the ball of your right foot. he caught your ankle, pressing a kiss before letting your leg go. you propped your feet against the bed, knees together in the air. "nah—open 'em." he tutted softly. "gonna have a taste before i leave. make you feel real fuckin' good." and he fucking did—face sunken into your cunt, his tongue going back and forth between nursing your clit and hole; hands atop your thighs, holding them in place. he heard your whimpers, as muffled as they were, even through the erratic meshing of your plush skin against his ears. your other hand sunk into his hair before having to use both to cover your mouth once that knot began to form in your abdomen. "j-jiyong!" your ghost of a whisper penetrated his senses. his response manifested in one arm slung over your stomach, his other hand trailing past your stretch marks, reaching for the closest breast and kneading it in his palm; humming in content against your slick pussy.

you and jiyong lived in your own world those first few months. neither of your respective friends knew—not because it was hidden on purpose or anything, but jiyong was too busy running red lights to come see you, and you were occupied with thinking of a slick way to end a phone call after hearing the pager beep in your nightside table drawer. though there wasn't verbal confirmation until later, there were definite signs: a particularly blunt friend pointing something out when you got to lunch ten minutes late ("there's something different about you, but i can't place it—" "—she smells like sex. also has the glow." "hey! no i don't!"); jiyong thinking his bucket hat would deter attention from the mostly-faded-but-still-noticeable hickey on his neck, only for seunghyun to point it out the moment he got in his car to head to the mall ("that goofy hat isn't doing shit." "she calls me that, too." "it takes nothing to get everything out of you, ji."); when you were too quick to leave a night out, saying you'd take public transit home, ultimately leading you to be cornered by the same friend, strategically pulled you into her car away from the others ("be for real. are you seeing someone?" "we're still—" "—okay, so you are. who is it? don't tell me its that co-worker that ate the—what was it? expired tuna? willingly?" "i'm offended that you think i would ever consider that. we met at a party, anyway—" "jiyong!? oh my god! oh my god!" "how did you—" "—i saw you two on that swing, but i didn't think—oh my god! tell me everything!" "only if you let me get a fucking word in—holy shit!"); to jiyong straight up telling seunghyun "i can't tonight, man. m'seeing my girl." to which his best friend responded "she rang me up the other day at the market, but i don't think she knew who i was. you need to fix that."

things took a turn the night your parents were out at a co-worker's wedding. they left at eight, not expected to be back until well past midnight. jiyong was in your bedroom no later than 8:10, shoes kicked off, hand comfortably behind his head, slumped against the pillow next to yours in bed. perhaps it was the fact you two were truly alone for the first time with your parents gone and window closed—for once not at the ready to dash out if footsteps erupted down the hall—that the conversation trickled elsewhere. something about these last few months was just something different for jiyong . . . he felt connected. safe. most importantly, trusted. you felt cared for, desired, and seen. it showed in those lingering stares; the air just feeling right whenever you two are together; his hand ghosting past yours before working up the courage to hold it in a way that always granted him that shy grin of yours; your cheeks brushing against one another's when you're looking at the same thing . . . the list was endless. something just—it just clicked. the question of are we moving too quickly? pestered at the back of either of your minds . . . but one look, and the puzzle was completed. the answer clear. any doubts eradicated.

trust was in bloom, and so was his willingness to be vulnerable. when it occurred, you shut the fuck up, putting your own shock aside: "my parents have never been the type—nah." jiyong chuckled. it was after some anecdote you brought up from middle school about parent-teacher conferences—specifically how you were outed for having a failing grade in chemistry. "my mom went to those things, but my dad—its like you'd have to drag him there. he was always busy, or some shit." you hummed, reaching over and softly grazing your finger against his forehead, fixing a fallen strand. it wasn't intended, but jiyong took the gentle gesture as a means of saying you can tell me anything. his eyes flickered to the linen before fully turning onto his side, directly facing you. he avoided the stirring turmoil in his chest, bringing his pointer finger to your bottom lip, pulling it down and letting go; chuckling at the small plop it made against your top lip, endeared by your playful scoff.

"listen, uh—" he began. "i know people—people talk. about my . . . about my family, or whatever. about my dad, specifically." he rubbed his eye, avoiding looking at you. "he does work, uh . . . he does work—he works underground—" "—jiyong, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." you told him, seeing the strain on his face. "no," he shook his head. "i want to. i mean—if i can find the fucking words." he let out a curt chuckle, frustrated with himself. he took a breath, still not looking at your eyes, but the bottom hem of your shirt. "i guess i—" he huffed. "i guess i always kinda knew something was different. like, my 'uncles' weren't my uncles. well, two of them are. but most aren't." you listened carefully, cheek rubbing against the pillowcase when you nodded. "it was a feeling, i guess? and then in sixth grade it was like . . . my frontal lobe developed. that's real fucking early, i know, but i don't know how else to describe it. everything just—it just made sense."

jiyong finally looked up. your expression was unreadable, but you didn't look scared. or intimidated. so that was a good sign. "i'm just jiyong." he spoke softly. he wasn't sure why he said that but something in him compelled him to do so. his hair ruffled against the pillow, subtly shaking his head. "i don't do any of that. i'm set straight—normal." for the most part, his inner monologue voiced. you scooted closer, the tip of your nose brushing against his. your brought your hand up, pad of your thumb tracing his stubble. he watched you with a glint in his eyes; entranced. "no one's interrogating you." you whispered, a smile stretching your mouth, seeing him visibly relax. he let out a long breath, forehead falling onto yours, eyes fluttering closed. "and you are just jiyong." you told him, hand reaching behind him, coaxing tenderly up and down his back. "well, my jiyong. specifically speaking." "you got that right." he kissed your cheek, nestling into your chest, arms slung around your waist. you held him without hesitation, quickly combing his hair back with your fingers as it tickled your chin. jiyong closed his eyes, letting something else slip out: "you make my life feel normal." he muttered, hidden in your warmth. "you make my life a lot more interesting." you told him, the vibrations of your chuckle making him hold you tighter.

a couple hours later, he was out of your bed, stood in front of your rotating fan perched beside your dresser. "you'd think it wouldn't be still hot as shit in damn near october." jiyong muttered, quickly leaning down once the fan turned him way, flushed cheeks momentarily relieved. "i know." you concurred, left in nothing but a shirt and underwear; laid on your side in bed, head propped up by your hand. jiyong huffed when the fan turned away, tugging at the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the fabric. you quickly looked away when he turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed. the unintended brewing silence caught his attention, turning his head to look at you. "this is the longest you've gone without talking since we started dating." "shut up, ji." he grinned, leaning down, bringing his lips to yours.

"you've seen me like this before. why so shy now, hm?" he murmured against your mouth; the kiss slow, deliberate. "s'cause you're fine." you mumbled. "s'my line, baby." you stopped the kiss, lips hovering above his. "you're so cheesy sometimes that it hurts, jiyong." he laughed against your mouth. "but you like it. i know you do." he said between kisses. his hand reached your hip, sliding down your thigh until his fingers tried to nestle between them. you opened your thighs enough to let his hand in, closing them around his wrist. he cupped and palmed your clothed pussy as best he could, kissing you a bit harder. "i know my girl likes it when i'm half fucking naked." he whispered. his eyes opened when the kiss ceased, feeling your quiet breaths brush against his mouth. you perched your left foot atop the bed, effectively separating your thighs, allowing jiyong to feel your puffy lips underneath the fabric of your underwear. "look at her. so good f'me, so ready." he praised, glancing down as his hand tucked into the hem, sinking his middle finger between your puffy lips. he moved it side to side, watching you as a small gasp left your mouth. you adjusted your hips—to your fortune, the move aligned the pad of his finger to your clit, making you shudder, fighting rolling your eyes back by squeezing them shut.

aimlessly, your hand pawed at his bare chest. "j-ji—kiss me." he leaned in, the side of his nose aligning with yours. "don't ever need to ask," he murmured. "jus' do it." he kissed you repeatedly, going slower when you moaned into his mouth; it was the way you liked it—purposeful and fucking sensual. you both were present and so fucking crazy for each other that it could suffocate any room . . . and it was beginning to be your own. "both of your lips are so soft against my mouth, baby," he muttered atop your mouth, adding his tongue to the mix. "y'know i have dreams of eating that pussy, right? can't get enough of it—" "—j-jiyong!" you gasped, holding onto the back of his neck when the pad of his finger fastened its speed. "should i do it now? hm? should i eat this sweet pussy—make love to your fucking clit before i fuck it? yeah?" that latter was his usual dirty talk that got you the fuck going, putting the idea into your head before giving you brain that had yours malfunctioning. it felt so risky with your parents down the hall, so you never did it until—wait.

"j-ji—jiyong. stop—wait." you reached down, fingers wrapping around his wrist. he halted his ministrations, looking at you. "c-can't—can't think." you breathed heavily. "what's up? everything okay?" he asked, lips finding your temple. his finger left its spot between your puffy lips, palm resting against you. "do you—" your mind was scrambled. "do you have a condom? i want you. tonight." there was a small gap between his lips—until it clicked in his head. "right. right—" he nodded, reaching into his pocket and opening his wallet. if he thought he was flustered before, his cheeks were on fire now. the one fucking time—his inner monologue cursed. "shit—i don't have any." "go get some." "one step ahead of you." his hand slipped out of your underwear, sucking briefly on his middle finger before grabbing his shirt from the floor, shoving his feet into his shoes. "won't be longer than ten fucking minutes. i swear." he told you, leaning down and kissing your lips. "just—just stay horny." jiyong said a little awkwardly before climbing out the window. his own libido clouded his senses, dizzying his temples as he descended down the stairs and climbed down the short ladder. "will do." you muttered to yourself, chuckling.

your bed creaked as loud and incessantly as either you or jiyong willed it to. once he was in and you were adjusted ("how's it feel, baby? feel okay?" "y-yeah. just—just hold me, ji."), he fucked you right and good. you felt like everything he dreamed of and more—all those nights he lulled himself to sleep tracing the linen back and forth with his palm, imagining it was your hips; balling the fabric in his fist as he showed himself no mercy with the other, dreaming of what you might sound like around him. "f-feel good with me, baby. c-c'mon." he'd whisper to himself in the confines of his bedroom—panting it next to your ear whilst his hips rammed into yours. you felt as if you achieved your final form: arms above your head in bliss, shirt pushed up to your neck whilst your tits bounced intermittently, your fine ass man between your legs; fucking you with such tenderness coupled with carnal desire, stretching you out in a way you didn't know you needed or was possible, quite frankly. jiyong took his time to memorize your body: all the divots and crevices poetically curated by your cellulite, the uneven lines of your stretch marks, how the rolls adorning your hips jiggled differently than those on your stomach. his hips stuttered, vulnerable moan escaping his lungs when your thighs wrapped around his waist as best you could in your horned-out haze, pleading "more, jiyongie—m-more. want it harder," so beautifully. he leaned down, both of your heavy breaths meshing together as he adjusted his balance on his knees, rutting into you harder than before. all mine, he thought to himself, eyebrows curling upward at the sound of your indescribable moan, how fucking lucky am i?

the only problem was once you started . . . you couldn't stop. this newly-emerged can of worms was barely contained when your parents were once again just down the hall—but ambition was nothing without strategy. you two mapped out the least-noisy parts of your bed and acted accordingly: if jiyong's behind you, he's on his feet whilst your elbows propped you up on your bedside, your feet on the carpeted floors as his pelvis pounded your globes (nearly popping a vein trying to keep quiet in the process); if you were on top, strangely enough the top middle of your bed worked well, but jiyong couldn't change how he sat once he settled; or the one time you fucked on the floor because you really wanted to try the position whilst laid on your sides, but the bed would be too nosy. you swore to never do it again after waking up with a migraine and stuffy nose from the air conditioning blowing directly onto your head.

at some point, you couldn't take it anymore. it was after the thanksgiving holiday—the early hours of black friday, to be specific. whilst your friends were hitting the mall, jiyong was hitting it from the back. he drowned himself in your duvet trying to keep his whimpers at bay, your own palm suffering under the pressure of your mouth. when you finished, he kept his balance by gripping your left globe, squeezing it to thwart the urge to smack it silly. drool threatened to leak out the corner of his mouth, swiping it with the back of his other hand before pulling the condom off. a thin string connected your palm and your mouth, that same hand going into his hair without thinking upon feeling his lips against your cheek. "i love you so much." he whispered, hand tenderly rubbing your hip. "l-love you too. can't keep—" you swallowed, mouth dry. "can't keep being quiet. s'too hard." "i know. i feel the same." "help me—help me stand up, jiyongie." "i got you. c'mere, baby."

you were on the brink two weeks later. swiveling your hips, his hands holding your waist and lower back in place, swallowing his mewls and whimpers with your connected lips. jiyong was so needy—cut fingernails clawing at your bare back, faint whispers of "keep fucking me. keep f-fucking me just like that—hngh!" against your mouth, hastily re-connecting the kiss to muffle his verbose libido. he was more whiny than usual that night—this being the first time you've seen each other in a while from misaligned free time and abrupt family plans. it showed. "oh f-fuck yeah, baby—" his whisper was so faint and high he sounded as if he was depleted of oxygen. the way his face was scrunched up—mouth hung open, eyes shut, eyebrows knit deeply together—didn't help. "k-keep fucking me—keep fucking jiyongie just like that. y-yeah! fuck—" your mixed slick combined with the lubricated condom made his dick slip out of you a few times, permitting a breather, but not for long. your knees burned and you felt dizzy, but his cock was fucking addicting. it was all for you and no one fucking else's. his pathetic fucking whines merely scratched the surface of attesting to that—how about him chanting your name like a goddamn prayer? catching him grinding into the duvet when he's eating you out? begging for mercy with that fucking quiver, only to stutter a million thank yous once that euphoric wave hits? it was endless. he was yours. you'd take that tylenol and hydrate later—for now, it was just you and him. no one else existed in your shared world.

your gummy walls clenched around him, sending him into an untamable orbit. "a-agh!" he whined aloud, sucking in a breath with your hand covered his mouth with haste, his eyes widening. "you better stop moaning like a bitch." you whispered. his eyes were misty, subconsciously mourning the temporary loss of movement. "i c-can't help it, baby," he shook his head, shaking off your palm. "y-you feel so fucking good. m'so fucking turned on right now—you have no idea, holy s-shit." both of his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses onto your bare chest. "i'll be good. i'll—i'll behave, baby." he whispered, looking up at you. his hand grabbed your right breast, eyes watching yours with a glint. "i'll be your good boy—your good jiyongie. look, i'll do this to keep quiet." his tongue encircled your nipple before taking it between his lips, lapping the peak repeatedly.

it was an effective method, considering when you started moving again, all that could be heard was the moderate, non-suspicious tinkering of your metal bed frame—but now your self-control was withering away. your fingers entangled in his hair, vibrations of his moans molding into your plush skin . . . you couldn't help yourself: "f-fuck!" you gasped, hand aimlessly grabbing onto the wall in front of you, nails scratching against the chipped paint. jiyong sucked diligently as if nothing happened. you attempted to squish this shit like a bug, needing your boyfriend to wake the fuck up: "cut that shit out, ji—ha-a!" you sucked in a breath. "i can't k-keep quiet." "if i don't have this, i'm going to wake up the entire neighborhood." he muttered. "not before we wake my fucking parents!" you whisper-yelled. you nudged the side of his head with a tsk, your nipple slipping out of his mouth with you leaned to your left, grabbing your shirt. "oh hell no—" jiyong realized what was happening, you cutting him off: "shut up." you tutted, putting your shirt on. "thats what you get."

you held either side of his face, kissing his lips sweetly. "i love it when you're like this." you felt him hum. "all desperate." "i know," jiyong answered, kissing you back. "you ride my shit into the sunset whenever i do." he chuckled when you turned away, clearly flustered. "come back here." he murmured gently, lips decorating your supple cheek. "but m'being honest. this is how you make me. s'fucking hard keeping quiet, baby." "i can't keep doing this, jiyong." you shook your head. "i'm going crazy." "i know, pretty girl, i know." he nodded, palms rubbing up and down your thighs. "my place isn't really an option, either." he shook his head, seeing you nod. you talked about this before. "always busy with some shit. but i'm gonna get us a room—its about time. so we can be loud as we want to, yeah? fuck good and hard?" "y-yes." you let out a shaky breath, slowly beginning to move your hips. "needed it, like, yesterday." "i'll book it first thing tomorrow." he whispered, bottom lip choked between his teeth. "just finish us off, baby," his voice was already an octave higher. "no one does it like you—ha-a—a—oh f-fuck!"

it was an interesting feeling, knowing you were going somewhere just to fuck your boyfriend. those car rides were either humorously quiet or overly conversational—the little white lies you told your parents at the back of your mind as you filed into jiyong's passenger's seat after your shift ended: "i'll be late tonight. its someone's birthday," "i'm picking up another shift," or his personal favorite "the girls and i are having a sleepover." ("am i one of the girls?" "in your dreams.") he swiped his card at the hotel receptionist's desk without a second thought; clothes on the floor and bed creaking less than an hour later. the nearby 24 hour mart was the go-to for condom and snack runs, or the neighboring strip mall where you went for dinner ("do you want to go re-fuel?" "'re-fuel' is crazy, jiyong.") or he'd pick up an order—styrofoam take-out containers sprawled out in bed, eating your burgers and curly fries with nothing but the thin hotel quilt atop either of you, talking about whatever as the local weatherman played on the box television.

"keep moving like that! holy shit! holy shit!" he cried out one night, fucking up into you as you slammed down onto him. his hands went back and forth between gripping the side of your thighs to smacking either of your plush globes; or laying his palms on your thighs, looking down as he both watched and felt them shake with each unrelenting thrust. "i love feeling this fucking j-jiggle," he sucked in a breath. "and gripping this shit." his hands squeezed your ass before kneading to your love handles, looking up at you upon hearing you moan. "have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are," his breathing was jagged, sweat perspiring across his forehead. "the fuck do y-you—hngh!—t-the fuck do you mean no one's ever wanted you this bad? huh? felt like i needed to start a prayer service when i met you, baby—f-fuck! oh my god—ha-a—a!" he whimpered, hips stuttering to a sudden halt after you clenched around him. you let out a breath, adjusting your knees, hands letting go of the headboard to opt for your arms wrapping around his shoulders. "thats it, thats it." he praised gently. "get comfortable f'me. for your jiyongie—your good jiyongie. there you go, baby." he found his face lost in your neck when he started moving again; fingers entangled in his hair, nails scratching against his tattoo. "o—oh! j-jiyong! oh f-fuck, b-baby—" you cut yourself off with a gasp, guttural moan following. you felt so free. "felt like i needed to start a prayer service when i met you, baby—f-fuck! oh fuck—yeah! yeah!" he was close, determined to finish his thought. "felt like i needed to go to church and t-thank g-god herself for bringing me t-to you—f-fuck!"

no part of the room was spared. godspeed to whomever was on the housekeeping shift that saturday morning after the stench you two left in that damn bathroom . . . meant to get in the shower at ten to make the eleven check-out time and also complementary weekend brunch . . . but its not your fault the both of you are fine as fuck! "like that! like that! m-more—more! f-fuck!" your voice bounced off the tiled walls; acoustics of the bathroom drilling your moans into his brain for his next however so many lives—not that he was complaining what-so-fucking-ever. your knee was atop the counter, stomach laying comfortably in the sink as your hands held onto the wall and mirror before you, being fucked delectably from behind. the plop of his heavy balls against you hardly rivaled the sound of the air vent, let alone how loud you were. "o-oh my god, baby! f-fuck—fuck me! fuck me just like that! a-ah!" your walls swallowed and spit him out whole, leaving nothing to the imagination with the condom covered in creamy slick. he was panicking a little, though, because all of his cock was in you. he didn't have anymore, so he just went harder.

it seemed to do the trick. his mouth fell open at the sound of your shaky "oh my fucking god!", glancing at the mirror and seeing an expression on your face that he thought only existed in his fantasies. "f-fuck!" he whimpered. "y-you're f-fucking tight—feels so f-fucking good—a-agh! jiyongie f-feels so good!" referring to himself in third person was a tell-tale sign he was pussy drunk, only making you more hornier, knocking over the hotel hand soap in your effort to fuck him back. damn—is my dick really that good? he wondered to himself, nearly stumbling in trying to regain his balance. it ended in you two making it on time to brunch—but with his t-shirt on inside out and backwards, and droplets of water adorning your hair, along with a sheer streak of body lotion on display whenever your lifted your arm to take a bite of your omelette, of course.

godspeed to whomever was next door, too, like that one time a couple took an overnight pitstop during their road trip. it was downhill for them starting at 11 pm that friday night. you were stroking jiyong's cock as he laid on your chest, his moans muffled by your mouth, but the boyfriend's eyebrows raised nonetheless as he got ready for bed. the girlfriend nudged his shoulder and gestured to the wall when you were getting your pussy ate, moans undeniable as jiyong's tongue made love to your clit, slurping you up like never before. she kept her laughter in, eyes widening humorously at the circumstance. the smile was swiped clean off of her face when jiyong started fucking you—grunts of fighting for power as your ass rammed his pelvis, mewls of pleasure, and whorish moans bleeding through the walls like it was made of paper. the couple stared at the ceiling in complete darkness, not a wink of sleep in sight for either of them. to top it all off, a phone kept ringing. until something went crashing down.

"who keeps—who keeps fuckin' calling—god damn!" they heard him curse when your mobile rang again. "m-must be one of the girls." you were out of breath, the ringtone dramatically deafening. "c-can you—can you get it? take out the battery or something. i can't reach—can't think straight, sick of the phone—hngh!" your thoughts came out fragmented, shutting up once jiyong leaned over to the bedside table; inadvertently shoving his cock deeper inside you. he slid the back off, picking the battery out and shoved everything onto the floor hastily. "thats fucking better—f-fuck!" you pushed into him, feeling him grip your hips and rut into you at breakneck speed. "y-yes! yes!" you cried. the girlfriend was fed up, but not with you: "why don't you fuck me like that?" she asked her boyfriend. "uh—" he stuttered. "she's—she's playing it up. clearly. i mean, who really sounds that dramatic? right?" he was overpowered by the sound of you calling jiyong's name so delicately that anyone could see what was really going on. the girlfriend huffed, turning away from him and onto her side, tugging the duvet. "that's what someone who doesn't know what they're doing would say." she muttered. "good-fucking-night."

its true: jiyong knew you like the back of his hand. no matter how he got on your nerves sometimes (with love, of course.) however, as your five month anniversary went by, and you rang in the start of the 21st century together ("we survived y2k, baby. i think this calls for some celebration." "just finish your cig in peace, ji."), you realized you didn't really . . . know him. like, some of the basics. here's some context—what initially tipped you off was something completely unrelated: a conversation that arose when you were out with friends; out at brunch at a local diner, taking up an entire booth, catching up after some time apart. an anecdote filled your ears: "we went all the way to his mom's for his little brother's birthday," a friend was recounting her previous weekend with her boyfriend; the tinkering of silverware and iced teas decorating the air. "it was fun. the food was so good—i haven't stopped thinking about the baked ziti." a wave of chuckles spread around the booth, including from you. as she went on, your inner monologue took your attention away from your french toast: does jiyong have a sibling? i think he mentioned having an older sister before . . . but where does he live? oh my god—where does he live?

you grabbed your glass of water, taking a sip, mentally going down the rabbit hole. does his mom live with him? are his parents divorced? i mean, with his dad's work, its highly unlikely . . . but still—what's his family like? holy shit, i don't even know his favorite fucking movie. now the standing question is was this a product of your own actions, or was he just secretive to the point it all fell under the radar? it felt complex and confusing, and also as if the universe was targeting you directly. the next thing cemented it: the mention of your name from someone in the group took you out of your head. "hm? what's up?" you muttered. "does jiyong have any hobbies?" you have got to be kidding me. you thought to yourself, out of everything i could've been asked. and i don't even fucking know. the look on her face was almost knowing, but in a different way. the subtle snarkiness ruminated in some of your friends since you told them you and jiyong were dating—a product of not having the gall to ask you about his family directly, you've figured. "he does," you quickly said, nodding. "he likes making mixtapes—" "has he made you one?" "yeah, he has. a couple, actually." you nodded again. now lay off; and she did.

not only was jiyong the type to know what he wanted, but he knew when something was up. a lifetime in a household riddled with conflict will do that to you. he doted on your cheek with sweet kisses, remnants of your shared desire sporadically sprinkled throughout the hotel room the following weekend. his arms were wrapped around your naked body, bringing you closer to his own whilst he lowly hummed in content—but you weren't paying attention, and deliberately so. your eyes remained glue to the uninteresting re-run playing on the late night television channel. jiyong was losing his patience, but kept himself leveled: "is something on your mind, baby?" he asked gently. "no." you responded curtly. he pursed his lips, "your pout says different." you let out a huff, defeated, turning your head towards him. a moment passed before you spoke: "i don't know you." you blurted. immediately confused, jiyong's eyebrows furrowed. "what?" "i mean—" you shook your head, "let me explain." you turned to face him fully. "the other day, i was out with my friends. one of them talked about, like, going to her boyfriend's mom's house for a birthday party, and i just thought about how i didn't even know where you live. like, what part of the city, or something." you thought aloud.

your effort to find your words subconsciously led you to sit up in bed, hand out as if you were rifling through the metaphorical word bank. "like, i don't even know what your favorite movie is, ji." you shook your head. "the godfather." he joked, shit-eating grin on his face; head propped against his palm, elbow on his pillow. "this is what i fucking mean!" you exclaimed, gesturing towards him. "be for real, jiyong. now's not the time." "okay, okay. i'm sorry," he apologized, sitting up himself. "i'm not really one for movies." he said. "i'm more into tv—like twin peaks. i really like that show." you looked at him. your subtle pout made you look kissable to the level of a federal offense. "what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" "easy: rocky road." answered jiyong. he looked at you for the next question, but it didn't feel satisfactory. nothing did. your face sunk into your palms. "i don't even know where you live, jiyong." you repeated, albeit with an added sense of self-pity. "that's, like, the first thing someone knows about their significant other. i said 'i love you' before i even knew whether you live on a fucking cul-de-sac, or some shit."

his chest felt heavy. he knew you were right. perhaps his efforts of protecting you from the mess of his life backfired. he didn't feel the need to be retaliatory or on the offense, but instead owned up to it. "i'm sorry." he muttered. "no, jiyong. don't apologize," you shook your head. "that's not what i—you know what . . . i don't even know what i meant. just—just forget it." "no, don't do that." he tsked, shaking his head. "that's the last thing we should do right now. c'mere, baby." he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around you, bringing your head to his shoulder. "i'm not the best at being open." he murmured, only for your ears to hear. "but i'm going to try my best to change that—for you. you hear me?" he kissed your temple. "its the least i could fuckin' do." he thought aloud. a long breath left his lungs, eyes fluttering closed, letting himself feel the uncomfortable emotions stirring in his chest. "how about i bring you around tomorrow before i drop you home?" he spoke into your supple skin, pressing a kiss. "my parents won't be home, so it won't be a lot at once. but it'll be a start. how's that sound, baby?" "okay. as long as you're good with it." you said. "i'm more than good with it." he assured with a nod. "you're the person i trust the most, y'know."

his family's house was beautiful. lived in, personal, and not intimidating whatsoever—in fact, it was normal. luxurious, yes, but normal. he lived in a gated community lined with homes with price tags you could only imagine, parking his car on the driveway made with any regular asphalt (you felt asinine for being compelled by such a small detail, but couldn't blame yourself either). the few granite steps leading to the front door were lined with potted flowers in bloom on either end. you had hardly any time to take in just how fucking wide the door was, because before you knew it, paws were pitter-pattering on the floor, followed by a handful of barks. "this is rodney." jiyong bent down after taking his shoes off, scratching behind the beagle's ears. "we got him for my older sister when she turned sixteen. i didn't name him that nerdy shit—she did."

jiyong then gave a tour: the wall of family photos that lined the left side of the hallway leading to the kitchen—the frames aged yet elegant (the portraits weren't giving jcpenney but a friend of a friend of a friend who knows an exclusive french photographer, and mixed in effortlessly with developed photos from disposable cameras and polaroids from family reunions); a descriptive yet comedic detailing of the food in the fridge after you mentally got over how spacious the kitchen island is ("this sliced meat right here—my dad's gone to the same butcher since he was a kid. oh, and this tupperware—my mom's bulgogi marinade is top tier." "i can't wait to try it one day, ji." "you will, baby. you will."); peeking out the windows on the lited doors serving as an entryway into the backyard, staring at the pool before harkening your attention back to him standing in the living room, the couch and nintendo 64 between you two ("me, and this couch. like this—" he crossed his fingers. "every thursday at nine for twin peaks." "no wonder you disappear." "prior obligations, baby."); to finally his bedroom, with rodney filing in and settling into his duvet whilst showed you his cds ("wu-tang clan changed my life." "can i borrow it to listen to it sometime?" "its like you want me to drop everything and propose right now." "its never ending with you, jiyong.")

when rodney decided he was over it, he jumped down and left the room, allotting the bed to you and jiyong. some time later, you laid comfortably atop the duvet, fingers entangled in jiyong's hair as your lips molded against his, his palms tenderly rubbing up and down your side. from time to time, you grew flustered, breaking the kiss and turning away, beckoned back to him upon his lips trailing from your cheek to the corner of your mouth. when it happened for the third time, a smile stretched his mouth. "hey," his breath was hot against your cheek, deepening your sheepish state. "come back here. stop doing that, baby." he purposefully elongated the last syllable, kissing your supple skin slowly. "don't get all shy on me." "i don't know," you muttered. "sneaking over to my boyfriend's house . . . making out with him in his bedroom . . . getting all shy like this. its like i'm finally experiencing what everyone else did when they were sixteen." you looked at him, slightly embarrassed. "does that sound stupid?" "not at all," jiyong shook his head, admiration apparent in his eyes. "you're so fucking cute that it pisses me off sometimes." he laughed at your scoff and eye roll, leaning closer when you nudged him away. "like, i get to be your baby. can you believe that?" "you're always on the brink of being my enemy." "that's hot." "jesus—its never ending!"

slowly ushering you into his life began to mend some things. he pushed aside those movie dates where you sat at the back of the theater, lips together like there was some sort of magnetic force; the gelato café where you've tried every flavor twice and repeatedly beat him at chess on the set out for customers; you two fighting the glitchy atm as he tries to deposit money to pay the overpriced rental rates for pattleboats at a nearby waterfront ("its like the universe doesn't want me to ride the dragon paddleboat." "you sound more like me everyday, ji.") for a restaurant his family has frequented since he was a kid. it was lavish and elegant—yet a sense of community was palpable. jiyong greeted the hostess like he's known her his entire life (because he has), cooly pulling out your chair out for you before settling in himself. he had a pristine suit on coupled with the watch he met you in, wearing them both with ease like a second skin of sorts, ordering the chicken parm for the both of you ("its the best dish and also ginormous") and a wine you were pretty sure had three digits after the dollar sign on the menu.

as out-of-body of an experience this was, you felt you blended in somewhat. it was all in your outfit: a long sleeve red dress that draped just above your knees, complemented by black tights, pearl earrings jiyong gifted you for christmas, and a coat to protect from the bitter winter cold outside. jiyong could tell you were uneasy at first, eyes lingering on you whilst the waiter poured water into your glasses, seeing you try to hide your pensive expression with a grin. "c'mere," he called softly, arm draped on the back of your chair. "see that lady over there? the one with the blue silk top?" "mhm." "has some of the worst french tips you've ever seen. she used to babysit me when i was a kid—shit was in my nightmares." "what a way to reach consciousness." you giggled, making him smile. "i know, right?" he concurred, looking around. "oh—that guy over there, by the plant," he pointed to the right. "he was caught with his twenty-one year old secretary. his wife took the kids—think they're about my age now—he went to turkey and got a hair transplant." he wanted for it to be in view. "move your head, motherfucker." jiyong muttered, glancing at you when you nudged his shoulder. "jiyong!" you chuckled. "what? i wanna show you—look! now!" he whispered. you were taken aback. "i'll be for real with you: i would've never guessed." his commentary was disarming and helped you relax; the kiss he planted on your cheek helping his case.

you felt the fleeting glances from others in the restaurant throughout the night. everyone really knows each other, you thought to yourself as you cut into the chicken parm. however, it wasn't attached to a flare of vitriol or scoping-out-the-fresh-meat, like your one friend would suggest if she knew where you were tonight, but with an air of curiosity and gentle would you look at that? before returning to their business. many, if not all of your fellow diners, were older and had known jiyong his entire life. it was tight-knit, exclusive—further illustrated by the aunties that came up to your table when you finished your meal and were waiting on dessert, doting on him with "you've grown up so well," and smiles brightening even more so upon seeing you. what topped it all off was when an elderly man greeted jiyong at your table in the midst of sharing a small plate of flan, followed by his wife and two younger children—all dressed to the nines. jiyong shot up from his seat, extending his hand, only to be pulled into a hug. you quickly figured this was one of his uncles, standing to your feet after jiyong said your name: "this is my girlfriend," you walked around the table, smiling politely. after making introductory small talk, you returned to your seat, not seeing the uncle grab jiyong's elbow: "you look married." he muttered, making jiyong chuckle, nodding.

"blood-related?" you asked him a moment or two later, glancing at the family being seated on the opposite end of the room. "take a guess." said jiyong, wiping the caramel drizzle from the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin. "hm. . ." you thought aloud. you genuinely considered it: they shared a similar cadence and held their postures akin to looking into mirrors, but something in you said it was otherwise. "i'm gonna say no." you looked at him, hearing his spoon tinker against the porcelain plate. you shrugged your shoulders, "intuition, i guess." jiyong swallowed his bite of flan, smiling afterward. "what?" you questioned. "did i get it right?" jiyong nodded. "you did, yeah. he's my dad's oldest business partner. used to take me on fishing trips—it was him that shocked me the most when i put the pieces together, y'know?" "mhm. i see, i see." you nodded. you scooped some flan in your spoon, slipping it into your mouth. you sat back on your chair, letting out a breath as your arms crossed over your chest. jiyong couldn't help his grin—you looked like a natural. "you're gonna fit in well here." he told you. "i barely know what i'm doing." you said. "well," he countered. "there's nothing to know. i'm just . . . . me. you just need to be you."

you grabbed your wine glass, stirring it with a subtle rotation of the stem held by your fingers. "i told my parents about us." said jiyong. "you did?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed, taking another sip. jiyong nodded, "i told my mom, like, two weeks after we met. she was so excited." he tried to act cool about it, but you saw through the sudden avoidant eye contact and nervous chuckle; amused grin on your face. "how about your dad?" you set your glass down. "he found out through her." explained jiyong, seeing you nod. "then—then he tried to ask me about you like he didn't know. he's not that good at being subtle." he shook his head, smile stretching his mouth hearing your laughter. his family sounded sweet and admirable, a stark contrast from their perceived reputation. a product of being multi-faceted and cunning, you figured, but you found it endearing nonetheless. "would you—" jiyong cleared his throat. you knew what was coming. "would you ever tell your parents about me?" "absolutely," you answered without hesitation. "they might, y'know, stop drop and roll to the hospital. but they're just going to have to suck it the fuck up, quite frankly."

jiyong smiled so big that his eyes kissed in the corners. "that's right." he chuckled, nodding. "would they be more calm if there was a diamond on your ring finger?" you gave him a look, eyes narrowing a little. "i think that might induce cardiac arrest, but not before it does me—because i know you're not about to get down on one knee right now." "i'm not!" he smiled, shaking his head. "i promise, i'm not! well, not yet—" "—jiyong." "its just an idea!" he defended. "to think about!" you tsked, unable to hide your grin, watching as he took the checkbook from the waiter. "yeah, okay," you nodded. "think about it, silently, to yourself as you pay the bill." "mhm, mhm." he nodded, biting his bottom lip; utmost failure of keeping his smile at bay, placing his card into the book and handing it back to the waiter. "you don't see us doing that, though?" he wondered aloud. "if i say yes, you can't use it against me and make me all flustered and shit." "i can't promise you that." "well, then i guess you'll never know." jiyong smiled knowingly. "think i got my answer, baby."

as the good fluttered in, so did the bad. things got real rather quickly—in every meaning of the word. it wasn't that you were naive and expected some adrenaline-pumping life with jiyong. he was normal, and just a person whom was born into circumstances out of his control. he felt so lucky to have found someone so generous and grounding, accepting of his family without materialistic expectations or with a looming hunger for intel. you wanted him for him; the good, but also the ugly—no matter how visceral it may be. living a life of nuance wasn't a culture shock. everyone experienced it in their own respective lives, whether it was what you perused for at the grocery store, how you were raised, the car you drove, your personal quirks, your defining experiences; the list was endless. jiyong's just happened to be the talk of the city, and on full public display when he was pushed to the edge. so when he showed up to your window on a late thursday night, knocking softly and one when your bedroom door was closed (the rules you established long ago), with small cuts on his face and a bruise forming on his chin, you didn't know what to do.

"h-hey baby," he smiled—an effort to fight his increasingly glossy eyes. "how are—how's it going?" "ji," your voice was quiet, taking the sight of him in. "what . . . what happened?" "uh—" he licked his lips, wiping a fallen tear, seeing it mixed with a droplet of blood leaked from a cut on his eyebrow. its now or never, he thought to himself. "y'know how—y'know how when he first met, i told you sometimes some guys try to give me trouble?" he sniffled. you nodded, "yeah." "well, sometimes," he sucked in a breath. "sometimes i let them." the shame felt atomic. it all happened so quickly . . . out to dinner with his friends . . . having a smoke in the parking lot outside . . . the son of his father's many business partners that's been on the brink of being ousted coming up to him . . . the beef trickling back to jiyong, the eldest and only son of his father's, having to take the heat . . . next thing he knew, he was flooring it to your apartment complex, his face pulsating.

he shook his head. "i didn't have anywhere else to go." he looked at you pleadingly. "its—its—" hard to explain, his inner monologue finished, but he couldn't get the words out. "do you . . . do you have a first aid kit?" his voice fell to a whisper. a moment went by before you responded, everything starting to sink in. "i do have something—" "—t-thank you!" he let out a breath. he grabbed your hands, kissing your inner wrists. "i'm so sorry b-baby. i didn't mean to scare you—i love you so fucking much." he cried. "hey, ji, i need you to breath." you brought him back down to earth, watching him inhale and exhale shakily. "you stay here and out of sight until i get back." you motioned to the brick wall to your left. he's done it before, hiding himself during a close call with your parents early in your relationship. "okay?" "y-yeah." he nodded. "don't—don't take long." "i won't."

you did what you could with the tools at your disposal: a bottle of antiseptic that's been lodged in the bathroom cabinet for years in case it was needed; applying it to his cuts with a cotton round, neosporin that was bought recently after your dad nipped his finger fixing a loose hinge on a kitchen cabinet, and a pack of bandaids that have been there as long as the antiseptic. it wasn't much, but it did the job. jiyong didn't have it in him to hiss at the slight stinging, let alone scrunch his face up in muted discomfort. you two sat in silence, you carefully placing the bandaid on his eyebrow as best you could, your other hand lifting his hair so it wouldn't stick to the adhesive. "do you wanna tell me what happened?" you spoke quietly, fingers fixing his hair. jiyong shook his head. "its fucking embarrassing." a beat went by. "i don't wanna scare you—or something." "you wouldn't. its not embarrassing to tell your girlfriend about something, ji." you told him. he recounted the night as best he could, but didn't lift his head to look at you; falling into mutters when it got to the more sensitive parts. it left you bewildered, but accepting—there wasn't any other choice.

"i'm sorry, jiyong." your hand rubbed his bicep tenderly. "you don't deserve that pressure. no one does." "it can get real fuckin' tough." he nodded, feeling the tears brew again. "like there's no way out sometimes. just gotta suck it up, y'know?" he looked up at you, sniffling. "i know." you whispered. "can i—" he let out a shaky breath. "can i stay here tonight?" "you know that's not possible, ji." you said—your parents down the hall. "i know," he nodded quickly, wiping his cheek. "but i just—i had to ask. how about the hotel? do you wanna go?" "i have work early in the morning." "oh shit—yeah. i forgot. sorry." he muttered. he knew this was coming: he'd have to deal with these emotions himself. he wasn't new to this, but it would've been nice to spend the night with his love. "its okay." you assured, reaching for his hand. "can you—can you hold me? i'm sorry, i don't wanna be a burden—" "—shut up." you cut him off, pulling him into your embrace. he nuzzled his face into your neck nearly immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, eyes closing at the feel of your hands traveling up his back, settling behind his shoulders. you talked to him in a way that would resonate: "when you're the love of my fucking life, there's no such thing as being a burden." you whispered into his ear. "do you fucking hear me, ji? hm?" "yes." he responded meekly, holding onto you tighter.

your palm smoothened his hair, petting the back of his head like he’d wither away at any second. “i told my parents about us.” “you did?” he expected the worst. “what did … what did they say?” “they brought up your dad,” sounds about right, jiyong thought to himself. “which is surprising, since they usually keep to themselves, so i didn’t expect them to know. but i guess if you don’t talk, you listen.” you thought aloud, hearing and feeling jiyong hum as he listened. he opened his eyes, pondering if he should say what was brewing in his head. i’ve spilled so much tonight, he figured, might as well. “what did you say?” he asked. “i told them they have no idea what they’re talking about,” his eyes fluttered closed, holding you closer. “and left it at that.” he felt his face grow hot. “would they—would they ever wanna meet me?” “funnily enough, my mom asked me this morning before she left for work.” your hand traced up and down his arm. “between you and i,” you grinned. “she looked a little excited at the prospect.” “really?” jiyong lifted his head. “that's—that’s amazing.” a twinkle returned to his eyes. “we can take her to val’s,” the restaurant he took you to, “anything she wants, she gets. i don’t give a fuck how high the bill is.” he shook his head, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “what about your dad?” “he’ll come around.” you said. you saw his face drop a little. “it’ll take some time, but he’ll come around. i promise.” your hand came up, fingers fixing his hair, though it looked fine; you just wanted to be near him. jiyong nodded, turning his head to kiss your palm before leaning in, bringing his lips to yours. “i don’t know where i’d be without you.” “me neither.”

the next several months were smooth sailing. your first valentine’s was spent at val’s before making the headboard bash into the wall at the hotel—the bouquet of roses jiyong gave you sitting idly next to the gifts you got for one another on the tv stand. come spring, you met his family! not only his immediate, but most of his extended, as well. it called for extensive preparation: “what do i wear?” you asked him from your end of the line, mobile flip phone held between your ear and shoulder as you reached for your go-to cereal. “i don’t know—something casual?” jiyong lugged his laundry bag down the basement stairs. “its a fuckin’ dog’s birthday party. wear anything you want.” he let out a breath, lifting the top of the washer open. “no, jiyong,” you huffed, pouring your cereal into your bowl. “be for real. i’m not showing up in jeans. tell me so i can thrift accordingly.” “thrift? fuck no. i’m taking you to the mall to figure this out. what time’s your shift end?” “two.” you looked at the time on the oven—you had to be out the door in twenty minutes. “great,” you heard jiyong as you chewed. “we’ll be there at two-thirty.”

rodney’s adoption day party was as lively as a graduation or wedding engagement celebration. the love was in the air, specifically an excuse for a huge family to get together and eat good food. jiyong’s mother dashed over to you in her kitten heels before her son could utter a mere syllable, harnessing the most welcoming aura. “you’re more beautiful than i ever could’ve imagined, oh my goodness!” she seemed like the happiest person in the world, holding your face so softly in her hands as if you were god-sent. she took the boxed tiramisu you brought with a look of appreciation, taking your hand in hers, and effectively away from jiyong as she brought you to the festivities in the backyard; much to his chagrin. “how’re you feeling?” jiyong asked when his mother was beckoned away by an in law, hand on your lower back. “a lot of things,” you nodded. “many things—good things. colliding.” he chuckled. “good,” he nodded. “come here, we’ll start with my cousins.”

no one had to tell you his father was the one standing on the opposite end of the poolside, the way he carried himself did the talking. he was conversing with a small group when jiyong brought you over. he was half an inch taller than jiyong, never faltering his posture, even when extending his hand to shake yours. you were so fucking nervous, looking up at him with your best smile and polite greeting. it was like he knew, because what he said next was so disarming it nearly made you dizzy: “i’d usually be a lot less formal with my son’s girlfriend, but i’ve got a reputation to uphold with these guys.” he gestured his head to the right. you let out a laugh, missing him patting jiyong’s shoulder and giving him an approving, re-assuring wink. you went to motherfucking town on that bulgogi, coupled with bottomless in-house mimosas (“compliments to the chef, your mom—holy shit.” “that’s what i’m saying!”); surprised when rodney recognized you after only meeting a couple times, delighted when he came over and sat by your feet (“you’re his mommy.” “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”); or him watching happily when you got along with one of his older cousins, talking to her about coldplay’s upcoming record. a job well done; a new chapter opened.

you were invited frequently back to his house for dinner thereafter. your parents did come around, treated to dinner at val's—jiyong answering whatever questions your father threw at him with unbridled ease. finally, after all this time, it felt as if things were falling into place. so much so that when it came time for his birthday, several weeks after celebrating your first year together, you took a page out of his book: making a mixtape. sure, your family computer was running like a jet engine by the end of it … and you picked up an album of an artist he likes just in case it didn’t work … along with something else … but its the thought that counts, right? right. you handed him the small gift bag before after he climbed out your bedroom window, ready to say goodnight. “happy birthday, my love.” you held his face, bringing your lips to his. “thank you, baby.” he smiled. “what is it?” you tsked, making him chuckle. “open it when you get home. its just … a little something.” “a little something?” “a token for you to remember me by.” you grinned, referring to his family’s week long trip visiting his elder sister and brother-in-law, set to fly out early in the morning. “your dramatic ass.” he teased, giving you a sweet kiss. “i love you. i’ll be back before you know it.” “i love you too,” you rested your hands on the windowsill, watching him descend down the fire escape. “page me when you get home—drive safe!” “i will!”

the mixtape worked, holy shit! he read the accompanying card with a grin on his face, heart doubled in size, practically seeping out of his pores when he opened a greatest hits cd of one of his favorite artists. he set them down on his nightside table, peering into the bag and seeing a box was left. he fished it out—it looked like it would house jewelry, nothing bigger than that. did she get me a bracelet? necklace, maybe? he wondered, lifting the lid. what stared back at him was unmistakable ribbed knit black fabric, lined with what looked to be white elastic hemming tucked into the sides; half of the brand name visible. “holy fucking shit.” he whispered to himself. he’s seen you wear this pair before—better yet, he’s taken it off of you before. he picked the folded underwear out of the box, watching it dangle off his fingers in awe. a thought flashed in his mind. he leaned in, inhaling. then he inhaled again. and again. and again. is that why she went to the bathroom before i left? to fucking pack this—he inhaled sharply, looking down and seeing how hard he was through his shorts. holy fuck.

he triple checked that his bedroom door was locked, taking an extra precaution and lodging the top of his desk chair underneath the handle. jiyong kicked his shorts and briefs off, laying comfortably in bed. he took a deep breath, beginning to stroke himself. he started slow, not wanting to work himself up too quickly. he stared at your underwear held in his palm, letting it dangle onto the linen before scooping it back up, teeth raking over his bottom lip. “look how hard you made me, b-baby—s-shit!” he whispered to himself, stomach curling inward, that fucking knot in his abdomen already threatening him. “look how hard you made your jiyongie.” the amount of precum he already had was (to him) embarrassing, making him grip his stiffened dick more firmly to prevent it from slipping; inadvertently making his mind numb and toes curl. “f-fuck!” he mewled. “keep—keep f-fucking me, b-baby! keep fucking jiyongie just like that—a-agh!” his voice escaped into a higher register, almost invisible in his broken whisper. he pressed the back of his hand against his lips to quiet himself, bringing your underwear back to his nose, eyes rolling back upon catching your scent again. a vein popped onto his temple, sweat building on his forehead—eyes shut, thinking of how your skin jiggles every time he fucks you; the way you look up at him before taking his dick in your warm mouth; the thought of you taking your underwear off in the bathroom and packing it for him.

“o-oh my god!” he whimpered. without thinking, he wrapped your underwear around his dick the best his horned-out mind could, fucking his fist. “c-can’t h-help it, b-baby—can’t hold it in—f-fuck!” he came so hard, feeling it bleed through the fabric and trail down his balls. he breathed so hard he could power a fucking windmill, body feeling like jelly as he aimlessly reached for his jeans on the floor, fishing out his flip phone and speed-dialing you. all you heard was his heavy breathing: “hello? ji?” “i’m gonna f-fucking marry you.” he huffed, chest heaving. “what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, the microphone a little muffled. “is everything okay?” “i said—” he licked his lips. “i said i’m gonna marry you—a-agh! f-fucking—f-fuck.” he whimpered into the microphone, his mewls making it all click. you looked down at your thighs, heat brewing between them. “did you—” you swallowed. “did you like your gift?” “like it?” jiyong huffed. “baby, i—i came in it.” how could she act all innocent when she knows what she’s doing? oh my god—i’m gonna get hard all over again, his inner monologue rambled, breathing finally leveling. your jaw fell, catching it quickly behind your palm. “good to—good to know.” you muttered, hiding your face from no one. i wonder if that hotel would accept guests at one in the morning … you thought to yourself.

by the end of your second summer together, there was a stack of photos on your dresser—developed from various disposable cameras. most were from the same barbecue, beginning with a photo of you and a friend making drinks in the kitchen; the snacks lining the counter; the small bonfire that somehow became overexposed when developed; jiyong giving a thumbs up when the flash went off—a tester photo when you thought you fucked the camera up; you and your friends trying to coordinate a photo; you in the middle with jiyong and seunghyun (you finally know who he is! he’ll never let that inside joke go) on either side of you; and two of you and jiyong smiling grandly in both—the first with his arms around you sweetly; the second he calls “just let your dad handcuff me right now,” his hands visibly on your ass, cigarette hanging between his lips as he grinned. he couldn’t help the very characteristic thing he said after picking the photos up from the department store, rifling through them with you in his car: “damn. we look hot as fuck, baby.”

honey's tag list! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf; @infinetlyforgotten; @riddlerloveb0t; @mesopotamism; @pepsicolapussi; @breakmeoff

#kwon jiyong #gdragon #kwon jiyong x reader #bigbang #my husband #i love my man #i love my husband

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mashtatosworld · 2 months ago

Text

lover boys (4)

summary: 'kissing someone else is not cheating' prank

[GD, TOP, D-LITE]

Kwon Jiyong (GD)

It started as a stupid joke.

You were at a rooftop party, warm summer air mixing with the scent of cigarettes and expensive perfume, lounging with your friends while Jiyong had wandered off to grab more drinks.

And then, someone brought up a ridiculous argument.

“You know what would be hilarious?” your best friend smirked, already three cocktails deep. “If you said, ‘Kissing someone else isn’t cheating’ in front of Jiyong. I bet he’d have a whole crisis.”

The group laughed - because, yeah, Jiyong had mellowed out over the years, but there was still that possessive streak lurking beneath the surface.

“No way,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Come on! He’ll probably write a whole song about it.”

“It’ll be fun,” another friend urged, grinning. “Let’s just see what he does.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Fine. Whatever.”

Just then, Jiyong reappeared, two drinks in hand, looking effortlessly handsome in a silk blouse and hat. He slipped into the space beside you with a sweet smile.

This was your moment.

“Well,” you started casually, trying to avoid your friends eager eyes, “I guess it wouldn’t be… cheating if it’s just a kiss.”

His head snapped up.

His eyes locked onto yours.

“…Oh really,” he said after a beat, jaw tensing. "I see."

And then -

That was it.

No protest. No argument. No reaction at all.

He just took a sip from his straw, looking away, completely unfazed.

You blinked. Wait. What?

You had expected an immediate rebuttal, a scoff, an exasperated sigh - something.

But no. He was just calmly accepting this absolute nonsense like it was nothing.

Now you were the one panicking.

You turned to your friends, who were equally thrown off. They shrugged helplessly but kept up with the changing conversation whilst you spiralled.

Jiyong stayed for another moment, then quietly excused himself, slipping off into the crowd.

You watched him disappear, a strange feeling settling in your chest.

"Don't worry," your friend nudged you. "He's probably just brushing it off. He can be defensive."

So you let it go.

For a little while.

Until -

“Oh, shit.”

The girls grew silent and you turned your head, following their intrigued gaze.

Because the man returning to you was not your husband.

Gone was the headscarf and hat, leaving his hair tousled to perfection. His buttoned-up shirt was now loosened at the top, collarbone and tattoos peeking through.

And his usual fruity cocktail - replaced by a glass of straight rum.

The moment you laid eyes on him, your stomach flipped.

He was walking - slower, smoother, more confident than ever, no, not confident. Cocky.

The way he carried himself, the way his dark eyes swept the room like he owned it - this was not the man who shied away from attention.

This was the man who had pursued you years ago.

Dangerous. Sexy. Intense.

Your breath hitched.

He strolled right up to where you stood - a neglected cigarette left to burn between your fingertips, and he tilted his head slightly, gaze hooded, lips curving into the faintest smirk.

“So,” he murmured, swiping the cigarette from your loose grasp. “You come here often?”

You blinked up at him, completely thrown off. “Um… yeah. We come here all the time?"

He hummed, slipping the cigarette between his lips, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke away.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes dragged over you with a look that sent a thrill straight through you.

He took a sip of his drink, licking his lips, before asking,

“You and your boyfriend?”

What.

You squinted at him. “No… my husband?”

His smirk deepened.

“Where is he?”

You stared.

And then -

It clicked.

He wasn’t Jiyong right now.

He was GDragon.

Oh my god.

The hot, intense, arrogant rapper you had fallen for years ago? The one who had chased you down with that insane, magnetic energy?

Yeah.

He was back.

And your friends?

They were losing their minds.

You heard one of them whispered to another, “Holy shit, he’s doing a bit.”

Meanwhile, you were trying to remember how to breathe.

Jiyong - no, GDragon - was watching you, waiting.

So you played along.

“…He’s around,” you said slowly, lips curling into a smile. “Why? You interested?”

He grinned, leaning closer.

“I don’t do relationships,” he murmured, reaching forward to pass you back the cigarette. His fingers lingered.

“But you… You're a temptation.”

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

Because you were very, very into this.

Your pulse was racing, heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

The rest of the night was a game.

He stayed in character.

You tried to match him.

It was exciting - the flirting, the teasing, the tension.

It felt like you had been thrown back in time, back to the nights where he was chasing you, back to when he was untouchable and untamed and entirely too much.

The night seemed to stretch on forever, when usually you two would leave and go home to your cats - cozying up on the couch. But he had dragged you along when everyone piled into the car, heading to a downtown club.

A club.

It had been years since you two spent all night touching and dancing, sneaking off to the side to kiss against a wall like no one was watching.

You tried to keep up.

You really did.

But when you finally got home?

The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed onto the couch, kicking off your heels with a groan.

Your husband chuckled, rolling his shoulders.

You turned your head, half-lidded, exhausted, but still burning.

“…I think we’re getting old.”

His grin widened.

And then -

He scooped you up effortlessly.

“I’ve got about twenty minutes of GDragon left in me before I need my pyjamas and cuddles.” His voice was low and teasing. “That long enough?”

You swallowed.

“…Hell yeah.”

He carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed, crawling over you but just before he kissed you, you hesitated.

“Wait,” you murmured, arms around his neck. “You know I don’t actually believe that, right?”

His eyes softened.

Jiyong kissed your forehead, slow and tender.

“Jagi,” he whispered. “We’ve been together nearly ten years.”

He looked down at you, eyes full of knowing.

“I know.”

Because of course, he knew.

You two were connected.

Always.

He lips then found yours - hard and possessive.

And just like that, you were done for.

Because even after all these years, the darker side of your husband was still there.

And damn it, you loved it.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Seunghyun (TOP)

You were at some fancy dinner party, champagne glasses clinking, warm conversations buzzing around you.

And the topic of the table?

What counts as cheating?

Your friends were going back and forth, debating, until someone turned to you.

“What do you thinkm, y/n? If it’s just a kiss, is it really cheating?”

You barely had time to react before your best friend nudged you, grinning.

“C’mon, say it. I dare you.”

You laughed.

You knew this was a trap.

Seunghyun was sitting right beside you, leisurely sipping his wine, not caring to indulge in the conversation though still entertained. But his tensed frame told you that he was listening intently.

You thought about it.

Then - for fun, just to tease him - you shrugged.

“I mean…” You exhaled dramatically. “I guess it wouldn’t really be cheating - ”

Pfft.

Seunghyun made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, eyes flicking to you in amused disbelief.

“You can try,” he said smoothly, setting his wine glass down.

His voice was low, velvety, and incredibly confident.

Then he added -

“…Not like I’d ever let someone get the chance.”

You raised your brow.

The conversation continued to flow around you but something about the way he said it sent a little shiver down your spine.

Because Seunghyun was usually the calm, reserved type. He wasn’t the jealous, reactive boyfriend.

At least… not outwardly.

But tonight?

Well.

The moment he made that little comment, his entire energy shifted.

Suddenly, Seunghyun was on guard.

You didn’t even notice it at first.

But the next time someone came up to you to start a conversation, Seunghyun was just… there.

Like a shadow.

Standing so close, his presence looming, quiet but firm.

And when the guy in front of you hesitated - eyes flicking between you and your tall boyfriend - you realised.

Seunghyun was blocking you.

A human wall.

No one was getting through.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

The longer the night went on, the worse it got.

He wasn’t letting anyone near you.

You moved? He moved.

You reached for a drink? He grabbed it for you.

Someone tried to say hello? Seunghyun’s arm was already around your waist.

Usually, he wasn’t one for public affection.

But tonight?

Oh, he was all over you.

A hand on your lower back.

Fingers trailing along your arm.

His lips brushing your neck as he leaned in to murmur something about how “this party is getting boring, isn’t it, Princess?”

He wasn’t worried.

At all.

Because he was your big, scary, intimidating boyfriend.

And he could just… whisk you away whenever he wanted.

Which, apparently - he would.

Because at one point, mid-conversation, you suddenly felt your feet leave the ground.

What the - ?!

You barely had time to process before Seunghyun lifted you under the arms like you were a stray kitten and just moved you.

Like you weighed nothing.

“Seunghyun!” you gasped, laughing as he carried you a few steps away before placing you down like it was nothing.

He smirked, completely unbothered.

“What?” he asked, voice deep and amused.

You gawked at him, still half-laughing. “You just - moved me! Like a child!”

His brow raised slightly, eyes twinkling.

“Well,” he shrugged, tilting his head, voice dropping -

“I wasn’t about to let him finish that conversation.”

Your stomach flipped.

And that was when you realised -

He wasn’t playing around.

Possessive T.O.P had fully taken over.

Your fingers curled slightly against his chest, voice softer now.

“You know I wouldn’t actually ever do that, right?”

His eyes flicked over your face - sharp, unreadable.

Then he leaned down, lips brushing just past your ear.

“Good,” he murmured. “Shall I remind you why?"

You sucked in a breath.

Oh.

Oh, you really, really liked that.

And from the way his smirk deepened -

He knew.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Daesung (D-Lite)

The car ride home was loud - music playing, voices overlapping, the leftover energy of the night buzzing between all of you.

It had been a great night out, full of laughter, drinks, and just enough teasing touches between you and Daesung to make your heart race.

And then, someone in the front seat casually threw out the question:

“So, do you guys think kissing someone else counts as cheating?”

The car exploded with reactions -

“OF COURSE.”

“Duh???”

“Well, actually, it depends - ”

Daesung chuckled along with everyone, but his gaze fell to you.

Waiting.

Watching.

And when you decided not to chip into the conversation his expression dropped.

Still new in your relationship, he was tuned in to every little thing about you - every glance, every shift of your expression, every small hesitation.

And you?

You had hesitated for a second too long.

You could feel Daesung’s gaze burning into the side of your face.

But before you could answer, the conversation moved on.

The car filled with more chatter and laughter, but Daesung?

Daesung fell silent, eyes focused on the moving city beyond the tinted window.

When the car pulled up to your apartment, your roommates got out, saying their goodbyes.

You turned to Daesung.

“I'm still staying with you tonight, right?”

He nodded.

But something was off.

The usual warmth in his face had faded.

Instead, he was staring at his phone, brows furrowed, fingers moving quickly over the screen.

You tilted your head.

“…You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice too casual. “Just… tired.”

"Well, you did out do everyone at karaoke." You smile, patting his thigh and letting it rest there. Your boyfriend had practically given your roommates a full concert and they loved it.

You were so happy your boyfriend and friends seemed to get along. And they loved even more when his private driver showed up to collect everyone, saving the group a trip home in the rain.

Once at his place, the two of you slowly wound down - changing into comfortable clothes, playing soft music.

But Daesung?

Still quiet.

He was fidgety, fixated on his phone, tugging his hair and covering his lower face as he intently stared at the screen in his hand.

The tension was killing you.

So you joined him on the sofa and bumped your knee against his.

“Wanna make cookies?”

His head slowly lifted.

“…Cookies?”

You grinned. “Yeah. You love cookies. And you always boast you make the best."

For the first time since the car ride, he smiled.

“Okay.”

Thirty minutes later and Daesung stood at the counter, hands completely covered in dough.

“…This can’t be right,” he muttered, frowning at the sticky mess between his fingers.

You laughed, grabbing his phone. “Let me check the recipe - ”

You weren’t prepared for what you saw.

Because his recent search history?

help I think my girlfriend wants to break up with me how to stop your soulmate from breaking up with you my heart hurts - is this normal or am I dying??? can you have a heart attack at 27?

You blinked.

Then you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Daesung stiffened.

“…What?”

You turned to him, holding up the phone.

“Baby…” you cooed, fighting back a grin. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet?”

His eyes darted to the phone.

Then his hands.

Then the phone.

Then back at you.

He was trapped.

Hands covered in wet dough, unable to grab the phone or defend himself.

“…Maybe,” he mumbled, looking down at the failed mixture.

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, my sweet, love.” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I would never do that to you.”

His shoulders relaxed, exhaling loudly.

“…Really?”

“Of course.” You kissed him again, smiling. “You’re my favourite person.”

His face broke into a bright, relieved grin. You leaned closer once more and - instinctively - he raised his hand to cup your cheek.

Except.

His hands were still covered in wet dough.

You yelped, jerking back.

“DAE - !”

His eyes widened in horror.

“Oh -OH NO - ”

But it was too late.

His doughy, flour-covered fingers had left a big, smudged handprint on your cheek.

You stared at him.

He stared at you.

And then -

You both cracked up laughing.

Falling into each other, breathless and giggling, the earlier tension completely gone.

He then sat you on the counter, grabbing a soft towel. And as he wiped your face clean - pressing a hundred tiny kisses all over to make up for it - you realised something.

Daesung might be sensitive, a total over thinker, and a little dramatic…

But he was also the sweetest, most loveable person ever.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

damn lover boys was highly requested - sorry i've been slow with it! hope you enjoy loves <3

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @lariem-blog2 , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby

#bigbang #kpop #gdragon #kwon jiyong #mashtatosworld #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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topluvr · 3 months ago

Text

Pranking them

bigbang x reader

A/N: This is was inspired by a fic i saw on here i can’t find the @ though :(

summary: doing the calling your boyfriend/husband ‘friend’ prank on bigbang members.

warnings: None just flufff

wc: 1.2k+

❦choi seunghyun (T.O.P)

You were currently scrolling through tiktok, seunghyun was currently in the kitchen getting snacks for you both as you were watching a movie.

As you were scrolling you came across a tiktok video, a girl was pranking her boyfriend by calling him her friend on a call.

You thought it was a funny idea and decided you were going to do this to seunghyun, as he’s not on social media you knew he wouldn’t know what you were doing.

You could hear him heading back into the living room so you put your phone to your ear and you start pretending to speak to someone.

“It’s so nice to hear from you, how are you doing?” You speak pretending to act interested.

Seunghyun walked back into the living room with snacks in his hand, he placed them on table before sitting down on the couch.

You place your legs on his and tell him you will only be a minute, he nodded his head at your words and he began to slowly rub your legs.

“Yeah i’m doing good thank you, just about to watch a movie with my friend.” You say trying to hold in a laugh, seunghyun didn’t react so you decided to add a little more to the prank.

“I would love to meet up just send me message when you’re not busy.” You smile into your phone, you look up to see if seunghyun was listening but his phone was in one hand and his other hand was still rubbing your legs.

“Alright i have to go, don’t want to leave my friend waiting any longer.” You say slightly louder so seunghyun could definitely hear you.

His movements stop at your words, you smirk slightly glad he’s now aware of what you said. You end the fake call and place your phone next to you on the couch.

“Sorry about that, let’s watch the movie now.” You say picking up the remote.

“Who was that?” He hummed.

His eyes were still locked to his phone screen. “Oh just an old friend, he’s back in town and he wants to meet up.” You replied calmly.

His jaw clenched before his hand gripped onto your legs. “mhm” Is all he let out, You giggle deciding to tease him a little more.

“Why don’t you find us a movie to watch friend.” You laugh, his head whipped towards you he had a serious look on his face.

“You’re not funny.” He said grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the coach slightly, he got on his knees and hovered above you.

“I’m sorry babe it was just a prank.” You pout looking up at him sweetly. “Well now i’m going to show you just how good of ‘friend’ i am.” He smirked crashing his lips onto yours.

❦ Kwon Ji-Yong (Gdragon)

Jiyong was currently in the kitchen cooking for you two so you could have dinner. You were sat on a stool in front of the counter in your kitchen.

You usually sat with him whilst he cooks to give him some company but you also like being in his presence especially when he’s been busy working.

“Okay baby, try this.” He smiled walking over to you with a wooden spoon in his hand, He put the spoon to your lips and you opened your mouth and collected the food from the spoon.

“It’s yummy.” You hummed licking your lips, he smiled and walked back over to the stove to carry on with the food.

Your phone buzzes so you reach over and get your phone to check. It was a message from your best friend she sent a video with the caption ‘Do this to jiyong😂❤️’.

You curiously click on the video and let it play. Once the video started playing your best friends face popped up on the screen and she was explaining how she was going to prank her boyfriend.

The prank is to pretend you’re on the phone with someone and say that you’re with a friend when you are with your partner.

You giggle at the video and decided you were going to do it to jiyong. You went onto your settings and clicked the phone ringtone button.

“Hey (y/f/n), how have you been.” You speak with the phone to your ear, jiyong’s back was still facing you, his hands still stirring the food on the stove.

“Oh i’m just with my friend at the moment, i can hang out tomorrow though.”

You see jiyong’s movements stop for a second but he gets back to whatever he was doing once you continue to speak again.

“Yeah Me and my friend are just going to have some dinner, what are you doing.” You smile trying not to let out a laugh.

Jiyong’s body whipped around at your words. “Hey i thought i heard you say friend.” He said with a stern look.

“One second i’m just on the phone.” You whisper to him. “Yeah sorry sorry my friend keeps talking to me.” You smirk looking at jiyong.

He walks closer to where you’re sat and puts his head closer to your phone. “SHES WITH HER HUSBAND.” He yelled into your phone.

You push him back slightly away from you. “Ji stop.” You giggle. “No no I am your husband, baby. don’t you forget that.” He smiled kissing your lips.

❦Kang Daesung

You’ve been seeing this prank all around online and you wanted to do it to your boyfriend daesung, you don’t usually do pranks on him often so you thought this would be perfect.

You decided you were going to send a voice note instead of doing the call everyone does.

You and daesung were currently over at a friends house for some food and to catch up, You enter the living a sit down next to your boyfriend.

“Hey my love, everything okay?” He asks smiling at you. You nod and come up with an excuse for the prank, you told him your sister was messaging you non stop about something.

For a couple minutes you pretend you’re messaging your sister then you decide you’d send a voice note.

“Can you please stop messaging me, i’m next to my friend and he can see everything.” You say speaking into your phone, after that you put your phone away and got into your friends conversation.

A couple hours went by and you completely forgot about the prank you pulled on daesung, he’s been silent for a while and you’re now starting to feel a bit worried.

“Hey, you okay.” You ask him whilst grabbing his hands. He nods a yes at your words and pulls his hand out from yours.

“Dae tell me what’s wrong.” You softly speak, he huffs before turning to you. “Why did you call me your friend on the message you sent to your sister?” He quietly spoke.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Oh my god i’m so sorry that was just a prank i forgot i did it.”

He pouts at your words, you lean in and grab his face. “I am sorry dae.” You whisper before giving him a kiss on his cheek.

You place another kiss on his head, then you move on to his nose. “What are you doing?” He laughed looking up at you.

“Giving you kisses until i’m forgiven.” You smirk placing your lips on his.

Ending is a bit rushed oops but i’ve been so busy and had writers block but i’m back and currently working on some new fics💗💗

#bigbang #gdragon #t.o.p bigbang #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun x reader #daesung #gdragon x reader #gdragonfanfiction #fluff

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trsrworld · 4 months ago

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not even funny..

This is so hot.

#gdragon #gd #kwon jiyong #my husband

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katarinawwwland · 1 month ago

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A really good try

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x f.reader

Warnings: Established relationship, marriage au, discussion of pregnancy, sexual content.

Words count: 1,2

Summary: You and your husband want to have a baby

Author’s note: English is not my first language. So I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it.

After Jiyong's comeback, he decided to leave the media for a long period. During this time, you have already gone on vacation to Jeju Island. And one hot evening, you were walking along the beach after dinner.

"Baby, do you remember Do Hyun's daughter?" Jiyong suddenly asked, breaking the calm silence.

"Are you talking about Seo Yeon? Of course, she's so sweet. Why do you ask?" - looking at your husband, you immediately remembered the daughter of your mutual friends, colleagues of Jiyong.

"Yes, she's really very sweet, she looks so much like you, I notice it all the time … You know, I've been thinking about it more and more lately," your man replied thoughtfully.

"That I look like little Seo Yeon?" you asked, laughing.

"No, I mean about the kids. About the possibility of having a little copy of you, the same beautiful little angel that we will take care of."- the smile did not leave his face. Your heart has melted at your husband's words. Of course, you've already talked a lot about children, but only as plans for the future. You two had very busy jobs and you were often on the move, but now you had a break and the two of you decided to isolate yourself from all the hype for an indefinite time so that Jiyong's words sounded like a suggestion.

"Or a little copy of you if it's a boy…Or it could be twins, you and me, but small," with a wide smile, you continued to reason.

"THE TWINS? Baby, it's fantastic, I'm going to be the happiest dad." Every word gave you goosebumps, and you were the happiest at that moment.

"Honestly, I mean, we could have started trying. We don't have a job right now and won't be in the near future, we're left to ourselves."

"Trying? I always thought it was an unspoken synonym for people fucking a lot," you said with a laugh.

"Oh my God. You're actually right," Jiyong replied, giggling.

"Well, you know, I like this prospect."

"Don't talk like we don't have sex several times a day."

"Jiyong, remember when you had a comeback, we barely had ten minutes in the morning before you left for filming."

"Hey, and when you were on the move, we only had face time at all," Jiyong continued defensively.

"We're really arguing about this," you laughed.

"There's no time to waste, princess." With these words, Jiyong squeezed his hand on your waist and you walked towards your villa.

It's been two weeks since your conversation and since you've been diligently trying to make a baby. It was crazy, you didn't have any problems with your sex life before, but now you could have sex several times in the morning, then again in the shower, and always before going to bed. Despite your husband's frenzied enthusiasm, you felt better than ever, the most beautiful, the most desirable, and the happiest.

You have already arrived from Jeju and were going to visit your friends Young-bae and Hyo-rin. today. You were making up in front of the mirror while your husband came up from behind and put his hands under your blouse, wrapping them around your waist and slowly leaving kisses on your neck.

"Baby, if you're ready, then you'd better just wait for me and not distract me, so I'll get ready even longer." To which you received only a satisfied mumble, the man didn’t listen to you at all, but on the contrary continued to pull his hands to your chest and gently squeeze it.

"Ji... we've already done this three times, and it's not even evening yet. And the guys are expecting us by six," you said almost pleadingly.

"Princess, we'll do it quickly." That's the only person you couldn't refuse.

Of course you're late.

At about 7 p.m., you arrived at your friends' house, making excuses for the frantic traffic jams. You had a wonderful dinner, you sat discussing everything from work to vacation. Baby Dong has been sitting on your lap all this time. You and Jiyong were crazy about that kid, just like he was crazy about you. Whenever you were visiting Young-bae and Hyo-rin, you couldn't tear yourself away from this baby.

"Kitten, what is it?" - you felt that the boy started twisting and fidgeting.

"Jiyong." - the boy started pointing at your husband.

"Do you want uppy?» - with emotion on his face, Jiyong took the baby in his arms. "Do you want to play? Let's go to your toys."- with these words, the men went to the children's room. You and Hyo-rin are left alone.

"Sometimes it seems that you come to us only because of the child," the girl remarked with a smile.

"Yes, it is," you said sarcastically.

"Y/N, can I ask you a question?" You unconsciously tensed up from such a question.

"Of course."

"Are you pregnant?"

"Haha, no. Why?" - you let out a nervous laugh, how could she know that you were diligently trying to make a baby.

"It's just that something has changed in you and in Jiyong, too, I know it sounds strange, I just assumed that you could be in a position." Her words sent warmth through your body.

"You're going to be great parents."

"Thank you, Hyo-rin.". There was silence after that. There was no discomfort or awkwardness, on the contrary, it was the most comfortable silence.

Towards nightfall, you realized that you had stayed up too late and it was time to return home. All the way home, you discussed your cozy evening.

"Y/N, when we were playing with Baby Dong, it was as if I realized that this was exactly what I had been working for all my life. I'm so looking forward to our future baby," your husband said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Oh Jiyongie, you will be the most wonderful father." - your hand gently touched his cheek.

Later that night, your husband was already lying in bed and waiting for you from the shower. For some reason, you have an irresistible desire to do the test, despite the fact that you did it yesterday. The minutes seemed to drag on forever.

"Baby, are you coming soon? You've been there for an hour." - your husband's indignation could be heard even in the bathtub. And before he could finish the last sentence, you were flying out of the tub holding a test in your hands.

"Baby!"

"What? What is it?" - he was puzzled by your enthusiastic cry. It was already clear from your face, from your voice, and even from the test in your hands, but Jiyong can't quite believe it.

"Baby, I'm pregnant." - tears of happiness appeared in the corners of your eyes.

"Y/N, baby, I love you, I love you so much." You couldn't believe your luck.

The two of you were almost asleep, but something was bothering you: "You know, when you left, Hyo-rin asked if I was pregnant?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, that's what prompted me to take the test, it's so strange. She also said that we would be great parents."

"Well, if she wasn't wrong with the first one, then the second one is also true."

And tonight, falling asleep in the arms of your beloved man, carrying your baby under your heart, you felt like the happiest woman in the world.

#bigbang #kwon jiyong #gdragon #gdragon imagines #kwon jiyong x reader #g dragon #g dragon x reader #jiyong x you #jiyongie #bigbang x reader #g dragon fic #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong imagines #gdragon smut #kwon jiyong smut

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gds-daisy · 23 days ago

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stuck by the glue

summary: the one where jiyong makes sure you’re okay when you’re sick

warning: graphic depictions of sickness, jiyong literally being the best husband known to man, fluff.

a/n: i started writing this when i was literally dying from my illness a month ago HELPPPP

You felt like hell on earth. On your day off of all days.

At first it started with a headache, but now it had been several days and the pain was still present in your temples. That wasn’t the only thing though. A few more symptoms had manifested—signs of a cold, a gnarly one at that. You had developed a nasty cough that made you feel like razor blades were attacking your throat and a stuffy nose that made you feel like you were underwater. The coughing was the worst bit. Not only did it give you a sore throat, but it also made your headache that much worse. You were suffering and there was barely anything you could do about it.

You had taken the bitter cough medicine that you absolutely despised and used your prescribed albuterol inhaler when your cough would flare up significantly. None of it worked. You felt like a prisoner in your own body and you felt hopeless. How long would this last? A few days? A week and a half? You had no idea. The only thing you could do right now was hope for the best as your body was currently strewn across the bed, used tissues alongside you. To make matters worse, your husband Jiyong was currently at the studio, recording a song for his new album. You yearned for his presence and would do anything to have him here right now. If he would’ve known you would get sick so quickly after he had left in the morning, he would’ve taken the entire day off to nurse you back to health. That’s what you loved about him. He was so loving and doting toward you in every sense of the word, which there was no denying.

All of a sudden, you could feel your airways become more tight as they were trying to take in more air. You quickly grabbed your inhaler from your bedside table, shaking it vigorously before taking a puff from it. You finally exhale and feel your breathing return to its previous state. Not for long you presumed. You groaned as you rolled around in bed, now throwing the soft blanket over your chilly body. You had accepted defeat at this point and the only thing you could think of was getting some rest. Not only was your body tired, but also your mind. You needed peace.

With each passing second, you found it harder to remain awake. Slowly but surely, your eyes began to close, an indication of just how run down you had become. Your eyes were now completely closed and you had dozed off entirely. If you had waited a few more minutes before going to sleep, you would’ve heard the buzzing noises emitting from your phone.

It was Jiyong.

Jiyong was worried beyond belief. He had been calling you over and over again with no such luck of reaching you. This wasn’t like you at all. You never let his calls go to voicemail. He was already a chronic overthinker and this wasn’t helping. He knew something was wrong. Or maybe he was reading too much into it? Either way, his mind wouldn’t let him rest until he knew what was going on. Today was a big day on set of filming his new music video and he knew productivity was important, but you were even more important. This could wait.

He had gone out to the set to announce the news that he would have to leave early. He was the creative genius after all. It probably wouldn’t sit well with most, which he felt bad about, but he wouldn’t be at his best with his mind racing like this.

“Attention everybody! Unfortunately a personal matter has risen that needs my immediate attention. We’ll have to postpone the shoot until further notice,” he shamefully admits to the entire cast. He could see the disappointment on their faces and it killed him. They shared the same passion he did when it came to the filming process. Jiyong could see that through their eagerness.

The entire crew bowed down out of courtesy for him to which he returned the favor. Even though they were somewhat bummed out right now, they understood that he was a human being just like them. With that, he starts walking briskly towards the exit, exhaling sharply as he does so. Before he knows it, he reaches the exit and opens the door before making his way out. He's met with the sight of his personal car parked in the street. Usually, his chauffeur was the one to pick him up from shoots, but he was currently occupied at the moment.

He wastes no more time before hopping into his car, starting the ignition as he does so. His concern was growing by the second and he couldn't stand another second of it. What if you were purposely ignoring him? What if he had upset you unintentionally? There were too many other "what if's" that came to his mind. His creative, overthinking mind. He wouldn't be at ease until he knew the reason why you were letting his calls go to voicemail. He prayed you were still at home because if you weren't, he would be in agony not knowing for hours if you were mad or not. The man was dying to know for sure.

Finally, he backs the car up, attempting to get out of the parallel parking job he had done. Luckily, there were no cars behind him, which was a surprise to him, but a good one nevertheless. He manages to back up far enough to have enough room to make a swing a sharp left, now driving like a madman.

The 20 minute drive from the studio to your guys' house seemed like ages to Jiyong. He had definitely broken multiple traffic laws along the way, but he couldn't care less about that. His main concern was you. He was now rushing out of his car, not even bothering to lock it in the process. Jiyong noticed that your car was still here, which was a relief to him because if you were actually upset with him, he would be able to smooth things out between you sooner rather than later.

He reaches the front door before instantly swinging it open. Once he steps foot inside the house, he surveys the area like he was some sort of wildlife expert. After a while of looking around with no triumph in locating you, he finally makes his way to your guys' bedroom. When he gets close enough, he notices that the door is slightly creaked open. He reaches his hand out, now pushing the door further back. The sight he's met with is distressful. There you were, strewn out on the bed with an army of tissues surrounding your unconscious body. Next to all those tissues were your inhaler and cough medicine. That's what concerned him.

You had been prescribed an inhaler a few months back due to respiratory issues that had arisen with the change in weather. However, it didn't feel like seasonal allergies. This was something different, even now. The doctor said to only use the inhaler when it was absolutely necessary. This wave of sickness was one of those times.

Even though Jiyong was relieved that his overthinking had been all for nothing, he still hated this. He hated knowing that this was your day off and you couldn't even spend it like you wanted to. He hated that you had to rely on all this medicine that probably didn't help all that much. He hated knowing you were in agony even if you were sleeping at the moment.

Jiyong inches closer to the bed before he sits next to you, the bed dipping a bit underneath in response. He took that moment to run his fingers through your messy hair, feeling a sense of guilt that he wasn't here sooner. At the same time however, he was just glad he could take the day off if it meant taking care of you.

Suddenly, he feels your body shift ever so slightly, which he was alerted to instantly. You roll over a few times in your sleep and before the two of you know it, your eyes flutter open. Your vision was a bit blurry at first, a result of opening your eyes a bit too quickly. Despite this, you could feel a hand nestled in your hair. Luckily, your vision was becoming more focused by the second. You didn't need your vision to know that it was your doting husband, your Jiyong.

"Hi jagiya, welcome back," he says with his adoring smile and his smoother-than-honey voice.

"What are you doing here Ji? I thought you were at your shoot," you question him.

"I was, but when you weren't answering my calls, I got worried and rushed over here as soon as I could," Jiyong answers honestly, his eyes still full of sorrow.

You felt your eyes prick at his words, feeling guilty as all hell. How could you allow this to happen? You made this doting man leave his shoot over you. You should've texted him sooner saying you were sick so this entire situation could be avoided in the first place. You felt even more horrible than you did before you woke up, but not physically. It was your emotions that had made you feel this way.

Like some sick joke, your body betrays you and now your eyes are flooding with streams of tears. "I-I'm sorry Ji. I made you all worried for n-nothing," your voice shaking in between audible sobs.

His hand, which was still tangled in between your locks of hair, found its way to your face, now cradling it. "Shh shh...it's okay, aein. You didn't make me do anything. I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you were okay," Jiyong coos, trying his best to reassure you.

"But your shoot-" you blurt.

"That can wait. You're my number one priority and you always will be," he says, his fingers wiping away your tears as best as possible.

"How did I get someone like you, Ji?" you ask.

"I should be asking myself the same question, jagi. But none of that matters. The only thing that matters is that we have each other," he says adoringly. "I'm going to take care of you until you're all better, I promise you that."

He moves his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours for a split second, but not for long. Before you know it, he presses his lips against yours and the whole world seems to fade for you. The kiss was filled with devotion and tenderness, the soft kind. Jiyong wanted to make sure you know how far he would go to fulfill his promise of taking care of you, through sickness and health. And that's exactly what this kiss was. A vow of his commitment. To you.

The kiss is finally broken before the two of you know it and all you can do is stare at his angelic face in awe. His eyes had softened and his smile grew even bigger. This man was the love of your life and you knew that for a fact. He was eternally yours and you were eternally his.

"You best hope you don't get sick from me," you say jokingly.

"It'll be worth it if I get to spend time with you, aein. Besides, you already made me sick...lovesick," he says with the cheesiest grin you have ever seen on ones face.

"You're a dork, Ji," you say before playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

"Only for you, sweetheart."

#kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #gdragon #g dragon x reader #bigbang #kwon jiyong smut

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dollzites · 4 months ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS YOUR HUSBAND!

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! mild smut! & more fluff

୨ৎ from myeong: hi! thank you for requesting and I’ve been so excited to get this done for you! hope you can enjoy it x

ʚɞ GDRAGON VS JIYONG?

of course there’s a small difference here and there.. we are speaking about the gdragon himself! but he is still your caring, thoughtful, loving, affectionate, and kind man that you decided to marry hoping to spend the rest of your life with—which you will bc there is no way that he’s letting you go. never ever.

he’s the sweetest man. takes such good care of you and makes it his mission to get you whatever it is that you want or need—don’t even have to ask! if he knows you’re wanting something? you’ll have it.

will learn how to make your favorite dishes in an instant! say he’s not the best at cooking or maybe it’s just this particular meal? will go as far as taking a class just to learn how to make it the perfect way.

absolutely adores when you’re able to watch him on stage and no not just on the television he’ll want you at every concert or show he does. that’s when the king of k-pop comes out! but when the show is finished and his eyes find you? oh there is your cute and sweet jiyong again that’ll do anything for you.

a very touchy man he is—especially in the morning he’ll need to be wrapped around you. either his arm is wrapped around your waist or he’s got his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer to his warm chest, hearing the soft sound of his calm heartbeat that he always says “beats just for you.”

even when he’s in public with you and he is the gdragon himself.. he’s still your sweet husband and will always take care of you. he enjoys pushing his fingers through your hair and pulling you closer to him by your waist and looking down at you with a cute goofy smile on his face. nothing about this man changes just because you’re in public.

writes so many songs about you. the majority of them he won’t release and waits until he thinks they’re perfect to show you and he’ll call you into the studio for you to hear while you sit on his lap. he’ll stare up at you the whole time wanting to see your reaction and how you genuinely feel about it.

“what do you think, baby? I worked so hard on it and I just.. wanted to make it perfect for you—us.” his hand will be resting on your lower back and he’ll smile up at you from time to time just seeing how flustered you get from all of this. he loves that part.

not sure if this sounds weird! but I think it’s sweet and he’ll think it’s even sweeter but he enjoys slow dancing with you in the living room. picking out the perfect slow older korean song and grabbing you gently by the waist and slowly dancing with you even if you’re both not that good at it. it’ll be both a very romantic gesture and funny memory.

sometimes… you get gdragon in bed. he’s more rough with you but will always ask if this is okay first before he proceeds. sometimes he can’t help himself and craves you so badly that he becomes like a desperate animal in heat. his kisses are rough, hot, and messy against your lips while his hands roam your perfectly crafted body.

“fuck—you look so good underneath me like this. you always do.. such a perfect girl for me, hm? you like this don’t you? like it when I’m rough with you.”

he can go a few rounds. a few breaks in between to check on you and make sure you’re okay before he wants to go at it again. morning sex is also quite popular with him. he enjoys slow, romantic, and sweet morning sex. sometimes he’s a bit rough but he’ll apologize and ask if you’re doing okay.

you’re his passenger princess!! he’ll take you all over the place and rest his hand on your thigh, or grab at your hand and hold it like he’s never held it before and place soft pecks to your fingers. when stopped at stop lights he’ll take pictures of you before handing the phone over to you and asking to take pictures of him. he calls these ‘cute memories’

if you two get into an argument it won’t last. he doesn’t think it’s right to stay mad at you especially if the argument is such a petty one. he’ll break first and apologize and ask what he could do to make things better for the both of you. he enjoys being mature about it and handling things with care.

loves sharing his art with you and he eventually takes his art to another level and makes it all about you. pieces that he’s either worked on or just bought are strictly for you and he’ll wait for the perfect moment to show you and tell you about each piece and what it means for the both of you.

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eru-vande · 2 months ago

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Sorry I didn't let him sleep 😏

#that miumiu jacket makes him look so huge lmao #my pookie husband #kwon jiyong #g dragon

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petersasteria · 24 days ago

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intro (end of the world) [extended] - Choi Seunghyun/T.O.P

Pairing: Seunghyun x fem!Reader

Summary: your relationship is crumbling.

"can't you sense me? i've been right here all this time. would you still be here pretending you still like me, pretending you don't regret not thinking before asking?"

You didn't know when it started, but you knew that something shifted in your marriage. Both of you were famous celebrities and you knew it would be a lot to handle, but you always thought your love for each other would rise above it all.

After three years of marriage, now you weren't sure. Seunghyun wasn't acting like a husband anymore. He'd just treat you like a roommate. He'd rarely come home because he's sleeping over at one of the guys' place or he'd sleep at the studio. It extremely hurt your feelings.

He used to come with you when you're on tour, but as you start preparing for your upcoming tour, he'd brush you off. You wanted to have a sit down talk with him, but both of you became extremely busy.

Then one day, he shocked you.

"Hey, I'm coming with you on tour." He said casually after ignoring you for weeks. He grabbed a snack from the pantry and looked at you, waiting for your response.

Being weak in the knees for this man, you simply smiled and nodded. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and walked away.

You didn't understand why he was being that way, but at least he wanted to come with you. Your friends keep telling you to leave him. Even the guys tell you to leave him if you're not happy anymore.

"Just leave if you're not happy anymore. It'll hurt you even more if you stay too long." Daesung said.

"Yeah, and maybe your love story was only meant to be for four years. One year as a couple and three years as husband and wife." Jiyong added.

"Or maybe, it really wasn't meant to be in the first place." Youngbae said. "And you know what? That's okay. It's part of life. Maybe you were meant for someone else."

"Or maybe you and Seunghyun weren't supposed to get married yet. Maybe you were supposed to meet later in life and get married then." Daesung nudged you, not wanting to be negative.

"You're only 29, Y/N. It's okay to take your time." Jiyong reassured as he gave you a tight hug.

They were probably right.

When your tour kicked off, you were too busy to notice Seunghyun. After all, all your fans were hyping you up, your team was all over you, and you were busy doing photo shoots for magazines in every country you're in. Despite all that, you needed him.

You needed him to calm you down when things got overwhelming. You needed him to hold you when you cried yourself to sleep. You needed him to tell you that you did great despite being tired. You just needed him; you needed your husband.

Instead, he stayed in your dressing room while you performed. On your days off, he'd always go out on his own. He's calculated, though. He'd always be on time to greet you once your performance has ended and he'd always go to places where he wouldn't easily be recognized every time he's on his own.

When you landed in London, you were extremely excited. Majority of your fans were from London. You planned to stay there for a week just to relax with Seunghyun after the concert, but he had other plans.

"I'm going to Cali." He said as both of you ate breakfast in your shared hotel room.

"What?" You asked, eyes wide in shock.

He looked at you and nodded as he poured more syrup on his pancake. "London's not for me. I liked it in Cali. It was hot and we were only there for a few hours. I want to explore it more." Seunghyun said.

It seemed valid, but little did you know, he wanted to go there for a completely different reason

You stared at him and nodded, "Alright. I'll bring you to the airport."

Upon arriving at the airport, you held back your tears. Seunghyun had a spring on his step, like he was excited to finally be separated from you. You gave him a tight hug and said, "Please call me when you land."

Surprisingly, he hugged back and nodded. "I'll call you." He kissed the top of your head and you said, "I love you, Seunghyun."

He froze for a moment and smiled, "You too."

Just like that, he left. You were back at the hotel, crying to yourself as you unpacked your things. "It wasn't supposed to go this way..." You thought to yourself.

Two days later, you found out that he was moving on from your marriage. You were blindsided. You had to find out from the guys because he called them saying he met someone he liked... and it wasn't you. That shattered you entirely.

During your concert, you had to act like everything was okay. You didn't want anyone to know about your business, anyway. You were grieving while everyone wanted more from you and you were just tired. You were extremely tired.

When you came back to Korea, you had already became unofficially separated for almost a year. Your shared home was cold and it felt empty even though all of your things were still in there. Tired of feeling this way, you decided it was time to move out and get a divorce. You refused to be sad over a man who didn't love you anymore.

You left your ring on the table with a note and moved out. When you did, you started dating again. You also sent him divorce papers a week after you moved out. There was no point in staying married to him, anyway.

Seunghyun went home to an empty house. He saw the ring, your note, and the divorce papers in the mail. He had been travelling around while being busy at work to even pay attention to you. He honestly didn't know what was happening to your marriage until he received a text from you saying that you'll be sending him something in the mail.

He frowned at the sight and decided to call you. You picked up after a few rings.

"Hello?" You answered.

"What's all this drama?" Seunghyun asked. "What's all this bullshit, Y/N? Let's talk this out."

"What's there to talk about? You don't love me anymore." You stated. "If I didn't realize it before, I know now. It's crystal clear to me, Seunghyun."

"You're being crazy again, Y/N." He rolled his eyes as he sat down on the couch and leaned back, clutching his phone to his ear.

You nodded your head, even though he couldn't see you. "You didn't want to be with me anymore and it was so obvious, even your band mates saw it. I'm just- I'm tired of missing you when you're with me because even if we're right next to each other, it feels like you're miles and miles away. I tried, I really did, but my heart can only take so much."

"So, are you saying it's my fault?" He scoffed.

"I'm not saying it is." You said calmly. "I just want you to see it from my point of view. If tomorrow never comes, would I still be your wife?"

"I mean, yeah. We're married." He shrugged off.

"Let me rephrase that. If the world ended tomorrow and we're far apart, would I be on your mind? Would you still think of me?" You asked, tears brimming your eyes. "Would I be the first person you'd think of? If tomorrow's your last day on Earth, would I still be on your mind?"

He stayed quiet. He wasn't one to talk about things like this, anyway.

"Because I would." You cried softly. "It hurt to realize that I'll never mean a lot to you, you know? You're the love of my life, Seunghyun. I just wish I were yours."

"I don't know what you want me to say." He finally said.

"You don't have to say anything." You said, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. It wasn't worth crying anymore, but you were grieving something that was supposed to be your new life; your new chapter. "Besides, you called me; not the other way around." You added.

He pursed his lips, "Yes, I did. I just thought this is just another drama that could easily be talked over."

"No, Seunghyun."

"Okay. Well, it seems that you've decided to leave." He confirmed.

"You left first. I just followed and made it official." You corrected.

"Okay." He said, not having the energy to fight about it. "I'll sign it and send it to you. Good b-"

"I do have a question, though." You hurriedly said, not wanting to end the conversation until you get your answer."

"Shoot."

"Did you regret it?" You asked quietly.

"Regret what?"

"Did you regret marrying me? Did you regret choosing me?" You questioned.

Did he? He thought about it for a while. The silence was eating you alive until he finally answered.

"No, I didn't. I don't think I ever will. We just didn't work out like we thought we would. Good bye, Y/N."

"Good bye, Seunghyun. I only wish the best for you."

"I hope you find someone who can make you happier. I'm just sorry that it's not me." He said before hanging up.

Months later, you meet Park Bo-gum because he's starring in your music video. He was cute and kind. He's a gentleman and he's very funny. Your divorce was handled privately and only yours and Seunghyun's inner circles knew about it. Bo-gum was nervous at first because he thought you were still married, but you assured him that your marriage was over and done with. You even showed him the papers.

Your relationship with Bo-gum started going well. He's such a sweetheart. Always patient, always had no problem reassuring you, always showing you he loves you, always telling you he loves you, always seeing things from your point of view, always considering your feelings, and always there for you when you need it. By the time you were serious, the general public found out and accused you of cheating on Seunghyun.

When asked about the whole thing, Seunghyun revealed how he was heartbroken to see you already dating someone else. You were mad because he's the one who left first.

"He doesn't get to say that because we already had a conversation about this. I already grieved him. It's his fault if he's only grieving about it now." You huffed.

"It's okay. Everything will fall in the right place in the end." Your new boyfriend smiled at you as he held you in his arms. "The truth will come out eventually."

You could only hope he was right.

"I don't want this thing to scare you away." You whispered. Bo-gum looked at you and kissed your forehead.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I'll go wherever you are and you'll go wherever I go."

A/N: hope you liked the first part of this celebration! x

seunghyun taglist: @loveesiren @millytugby

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

eternal sunshine taglist: @sylviavf @amyyforshort @patheticgirl127 @multifanxtvshows @whotfiscamellia @sherxoo @sevendaysummer

#k's works #bigbang #choi seung-hyun #choi seung-hyun x reader #choi seunghyun #choi seunghyun x reader #tttop #top bigbang #k's eternal sunshine

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eru-vande · 3 months ago

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MINT GD MING GD MINT GD MINT GD 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

*video's not mine*

#i mean i knew he dyed his hair but i though it's blue and it's MINT???????#I'm an animal #IT'S SUITS HIM SO MUCH I'M GONNA CRY #he's so f 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻 slay diva 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻#my husband be looking great as fuck #abd TAEYANG LOOK AT TAEYANG!!!!!!!!#🥵🥵🥵🥵#gdyb #g dragon #gdragon #kwon jiyong #taeyang #dong youngbae #bigbang

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jedisupernova · 2 months ago

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married life with kwon jiyong

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#kwon jiyong #gdragon #bigbang #kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong imagine #gdragon imagine #gdragon x reader #bigbang imagine #bigbang smut #kwon jiyong smut #gdragon smut #kpop #g dragon x reader #g dragon #g dragon imagine #bigbang x reader #jiyong imagine #jiyong #jiyong smut

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angel-writes-here · 20 days ago

Text

Covenant

Choi Seunghyun x AFAB! Reader AFAB! Reader x G-Dragon Synopsis: Your 'honeymoon' is over and it's time to get back to life as normal. But who knew life could get so messy? Warnings: Angst, cheating-ish? A/N: If you'd like to be tagged lmk in the comments. I sincerely hope you enjoy yourselves on this chapter. This in no way shape or form represents the members of big bang as individuals. This is only a story. Covenant Masterlist

It's the last night of your honeymoon with your husband, the week had been filled with preplanned dates and media coverage, as well as awkward tension and neither of you acknowledging what happened on your first full day as a married couple. It seemed as though Seunghyun was more than willing to be apart from you, and you didn’t think that was possible. He would sit as far away from you as he could when you were alone, telling himself he had to keep it strictly business, despite any carnal desires he had after hearing what you would sound like beneath him.

“We have a reservation at 6.” He says as he walks into the bed room, but your passed out on his side of the bed. The couch had been uncomfortable and it was only a matter of time before sleep over took you. His face softens slightly, before he quickly fixes it.

He steps out of the room calling his manager.

“I don’t care, cancel it. She’s not feeling well, probably some food poisoning or something. We’ll be seen when we get back to Seoul anyway. We’ll be the happy couple you want, but I’m not forcing her to go dinner.” His last sentence is rather sharp. He peeks over his shoulder seeing you shift in the bed, but your eyes stay shut, oblivious to what he’s doing.

He hangs up the phone and rubs a hand over his face. He only has a week with you at home before Big Bang is due to go out on tour and his manager all ready said you’re to be with him.

He shuts the door to let you sleep and calls Jiyong.

“Hello newlywed,” he teases.

“Shut up,” he chuckles at his friend.

“I’m surprised you finally found time call me, the way it sounds, you and y/n are doing well.”

“We’re fine, listen I need you to make sure YG has preparations for y/n to join us on tour, ya know all the essentials a woman needs.” He trails off.

“She’s going to be with us?” Jiyong’s voice holds an air of shock and giddiness.

“Yeah, she kinda has to be for this to work,” he trails off before his eyes go wide.

“For, what to work?” Jiyong’s voice comes out staccato as he tries to make sense of what his friend says.

“Our-uh-our relationship, obviously.” He tries to laugh it off.

“Hyung, if she can’t trust you on tour she doesn’t need to married to you,” Jiyong almost sounds like he’s scolding a child.

“No, it’s not that she doesn’t trust me, I want her there.”

Jiyong isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, he’d get to see you, spend time with you and see that beautiful prize winning smile you sport every time you see him.

But on the other hand, he’d have to listen to you and your husband together, intimately. He’d have to hear how happy you are, watch you look at Seunghyun the way he wishes you’d look at him.

It’s a win-lose situation.

“Ji?” Seunghyun asks when he doesn’t respond.

“I’ll call them. Enjoy your last night, man. I have to go.” Jiyong hangs up the phone almost immediately. His heart wasn’t sure how he’d take being so close to you and yet not being able to do anything about it.

That afternoon you wake up with the sun casting a golden glow into the bedroom, the air is warm and you hear the shower running. You check the clock and see that it’s just past five. You stretch and yawn groggily throwing your legs over the side of the bed to get up. You walk into the bathroom and Seunghyun see’s you walk in from the frosted glass of the shower. You can see the outline of his body but you tear your eyes away.

“You’re up,” he says causally and you look at the shower through the mirror.

“Yup,” grabbing some face wash to begin your routine for your makeup.

“Where are we going tonight?” you ask.

“No where, I figured we could stay in tonight,” You rub your cleanser into your face.

“People need to see us,” you remind him.

“I told them you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, it’s canceled, ok?”

“Maybe I still want to go out. After all, we have our whole marriage to stay home,” you scorn him. He rolls his eyes.

“You seriously want to spend another night with me acting like we’re happy when you know we’re miserable. Take a night off.”

“No, I don’t, but it’s not like I’m coming back to Aruba. I want to experience it, and I’ll do it with or without you.” You wipe your face of the cleanser and step out of the bathroom.

Seunghyun takes you to a nice restaurant. He even pulls out all the stops, opening your door, pulling out your chair, holding your hand, the whole love struck husband package.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you say lowly with the candle light from the table flickering.

“We’re still out in public,” he says. You shrug and enjoy the nice treatment while it lasts. Because lets face it, when you both get back to Korea, he'll be the same insufferable man you've known.

Neither of you talk much during dinner, the air now beginning to feel the same as it does when you’re alone. Part of you finds yourself wandering how Jiyong is. What he’s up to and who he’s with. That’s when the waitress comes up and brings the check. You’re about to take it to see what your half is, but before you can Seunghyun takes it and places his black card in the holder, folding the bill shut and setting in on the table. You eye him suspiciously.

“What?” he takes a sip of his wine, “You’re my wife. I pay.” He shrugs it off as if it’s natural.

“This wasn’t a press thing, so I can pay my own way.”

“It’s fine, keep your money.” He says and looks off to the side. The bill is snatched from the table and returned promptly.

Back at the Airbnb the two of you are getting ready for bed. You’re about to walk back out to the couch but Seunghyun places a hand on your forearm.

“Why don’t you sleep in here tonight, it’s our last night here and we have a long flight tomorrow.” He suggests, his eyes not meeting yours.

“The couch is fine,” you suggest.

“No, it’s not. You don’t get any sleep on the damn thing. And if I’m going to have you by myside those eye bags have to go.” He winces as he realizes his tone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I,” he sighs and runs his hand through his hair per his habit when he’s frustrated, stressed or embarrassed.

“I’ll just sleep on the plane.” You say quietly, feeling small under his watchful gaze. You weren’t sure what exactly set him off.

“No, I’ll take the couch if you don’t want to sleep with me,” he sighs as he grabs a pillow. You watch as he walks past you to the uncomfortable couch.

“Seunghyun no, you have shows that have to be done, you need your body in pristine condition.” He looks at you. Neither of you want the other on the couch.

“Then it looks like we’re sleeping next to each other.”

The moonlight shines in through the curtains, your husband is turned away from you and you’re wide awake. It’s hard to sleep when all your senses feel like they’re in over drive.

“Are you asleep,” his voice slices through the silence of the room.

“No,” you squeak out. You feel him shift in the bed and suddenly his arm is around your waist and your heart beat is thrumming in your ears.

“Why not?” His voice in your ear causes a shiver to run down your spine.

“Dunno, just can’t sleep,” you breathe out. He hugs your body to him in a haze, the moonlight feeling like a blanket for intimacy but also a spotlight for something deeper.

He begins to hum a little tune in your ear, something soft and sweet, something that actually helps lull you to get some much-needed rest. In your sleepy haze you turn to his chest, tucking your head under his basking in the warm of his half-clothed body. He freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do.

“Keep humming,” you yawn and nuzzle your head like a baby bunny against him. He continues humming until he feels your breathing even out and become shallow. Then sleep overtakes him and he’s out with you.

You wake up the next morning still nuzzled against him, light snoring filling the room. You slowly shift away from him, checking your phone to see a missed call from the hospital where your sister is currently staying. Your stomach is in your throat, they never call unless it’s serious. You pull away from Seunghyun slowly trying not to wake him. You pad outside the room and shakily dial the number.

Seunghyun instantly feels a cool draft where your warm body was and it stirs him awake. He see’s you standing in the living room and creeps to the door way.

“Oh, ok. Um, we- I mean I’ll be there the second I get home. I fly out in a few hours so I'll be there soon.” Your body begins to shake as you try to breath once your phone call is over.

“Fuck I can’t do this today,” your voice is high pitched though it’s mumbled. You try to compose yourself before turning around and when you do you’re met with the sight of your husbands toned and tanned stomach as he leans against the door way. His face falls when he sees the tear streaks and paleness of your face.

“What’s wrong,” he stands up straight.

“Nothing we just need to go,” you say as you sniffle and put your head down. He shrugs and packs his things. Things between the two of you are normally silent but this morning is different than the awkwardness that usually sits in the room.

“Y/n,” he calls out to you as you fumble with your charging cord. You yank on it, trying to pull the plug out of the outlet and he comes up behind you, forcing you to stop.

“I can’t,” tears run down your cheeks, “I can’t get it,” you’re trying to keep your voice calm as he reaches over your hands and pries your fingers from the cord. He unplugs the charger and takes it from your hands.

“Make sure you got everything out of the bathroom,” he mumbles as he packs it away for you. You double check the bathroom and every other room before you’re both headed back to the airport.

Seunghyun had a 'meeting' to attend so he drops you off at the hospital. The doctor informs you that along with the dialysis she’ll need chemo for her kidney’s too. Your world feels like it’s closing in around you as you step into her room. She’s in a state where she needs constant care, care you couldn’t afford without Seunghyun’s money.

She offers you a weak smile as you enter the room.

“Hey, babe,” you smile at her and sit in the chair beside her.

“How was your honeymoon? I wanna see the pictures!” She’s eighteen, making her nine years younger than you.

You pull up the few selfies of you and Seunghyun that had to be taken for moments like this, as well as pictures of the air bnb and things you seen around town.

“He’s so good to you,” she smiles and you force a grin on your face.

“Yeah,” you mumble as she swipes through the pictures.

“Have the doctors told you what’s going on?” you ask once she’s finished with the pictures. She nods and you give her a hug.

“It’s ok though, I’m going to be fine." She smiles at you and you marvel at her bravery. There’s no way you could be that strong.

“I can stay home from the tour,” you begin but she waves you off.

“No way, go see the world with the love of your life,” your stomach sours at her words, “Then come back and tell me all about it. Mom will be here with me anyway.” You sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent,” you smile at her. The two of you spend the next little while talking, watching funny videos and just catching up.

“Where is Seunghyun anyway? I wanted to meet him.” You bite your lip.

“Uh, well he’s in a meeting right now,” your mind drifts off to his ‘meeting’. You know exactly what kind of meeting he was having with Hae. He didn't mention her by name, but you knew what he meant.

There’s a knock on the door that brushes your thoughts away and you’re surprised to see a familiar face.

Jiyong.

Your heart races as he enters with fresh flowers for your sister.

“Hey, Ji!” she smiles at him and he sets the arrangement down and gives her a hug. He gives you one too and once again, the hug lasts a second or two longer than you intended it to.

“These are for you,” he smiles at your sister.

“Thanks. You've been the highlight of day this past week.” She sniffs the flowers and sighs happily.

“You’ve been visiting her?” You turn to your husband’s best friend.

“Yeah, I mean you’re basically family now,” oof. That hurt your heart more than it should’ve, “so that means your sister is too. And with you gone on vacation I’ve been up here with her most days. And flowers brighten up the room.” He points to them.

“He’s been doing it since I got in here,” she says.

“Really?” You arch a brow at him.

“Can I speak to you out in the hall for a second?” You drag him by his arm to the little seat at the end of the hospital hallway.

“Tell me right now, are you being nice or is there something more to this?” You weren’t sure why exactly it frustrated you so much. Your sister is of age and if Jiyong liked her, well, then he liked her.

“Woah, I was just being nice,” he throws his hands up in mock defense. You nod, biting your lip to blink back tears.

“I’m sorry, I just,” you shake your head and put it in your hands.

“You have no idea how stressed I am,” you breath out a laugh. He pulls you into a hug, one that feels familiar, homey and devoted.

You wrap your arms around him and take a deep breath, breathing in his scent. Cologne, cigarette smoke, and something that's inherently Jiyong.

You can’t help the tears that start to flow, soaking through his t shirt. He holds you like that for as long as you need. He rubs small circles on your back trying to soothe you.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok. She’s in the best place possible.” He says completely unaware of the other reasons you’re stressed. You pull back and as if it’s instinct for him, he cups your cheeks wiping the tears away.

“She’s going to be ok. They’ll find a donor.” He smiles and you lean into his comforting touch for a moment.

“What’s going on?” Seunghyun comes up out of no where and the two of you frantically separate as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. His brow is arched in the direction of his best friend.

“Ji was visiting my sister.” You respond as you get up to give him a kiss. You wipe your face trying to rid yourself of any evidence of emotion. He kisses your lips passionately in front of Jiyong. You let out a small squeak, suprised by the ferocity of the kiss. Seunghyun’s eyes never leave Jiyong. Meanwhile Jiyong feels a tinge of jealousy burning in his chest and he looks at the floor.

“She’s in the room, if you’re here for her,” Seunghyun bites out once he separates from you. You look at him like he’s grown two heads. Jiyong nods and excuses himself. You find yourself missing him as he walks past you.

“What the hell was that for?” You swat at his chest.

“What the hell was that?” he whisper-yells at you. He looks around and drags you off to a corner where you can’t be seen.

“Are you fucking insane? If you’re caught with another guy, do you know that would do?”

“I,”

“It’d fuck up my image, the whole reason I’m in this damn deal with you.” His face is scrunched and he looks at you as if you disgust him. Meanwhile you’re on the verge of tears. He has no idea what’s going on. He won't let you get a word in edge wise.

“I’m sorry, but fuck, it’s been stressful,”

“Yeah I’m sure it is, but that was fucking reckless.” His tone is sharp and he continues to stare daggers into you.

“Well, maybe if you’d of been here instead of fucking your girlfriend, I wouldn’t have been in his arms risking your precious reputation.” Your words bite and Seunghyun clenches his jaw. His fists balls at his side and the looks in his eye is nothing short of pure rage.

“If you cared about anyone but yourself you’d of been here and could’ve offered me a hug like a decent human being,” your voice takes on a louder volume and he shushes you.

“Can you be quiet?”

“Can you not be such an asshole. My sister is fucking dying and all you can do is worry about your reputation and treat me like shit. Fuck you.” You go to storm off but he grabs your arm.

“Y/n,” he says but you snatch your arm angrily from his grip, looking at him as if you could run through him. You walk back down the hall and take a moment to compose yourself, a few stray tears falling.

You near the room and you can hear Jiyong and you sister laughing. It warms your angry heart a little and you force another smile on your face. It’s not until you step into the room that you realize how bad you’d been crying. Jiyong’s face falls as soon as he sees you. He walks over to you, his hands going to your arms.

“Are you ok?” His face looks worried and you step aside to check yourself in her bathroom mirror. Your eyes are red, mascara is running a little and your cheeks and eyes are puffy.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You look at Jiyong who stands in the door way. He doesn’t believe you but he chooses not to press the issue.

“Where’s Seunghyun?”

“He had to leave.”

“Aww, he was here? Dang, I wanted to meet him. Thank him for taking such good care of me and you.” Your sister wiggles her brows at the last part, insinuating the innuendo.

“Trust me babe, you don’t have to thank him.”

Seunghyun is out driving, the image of you in Jiyong’s arms burned in his memory. He would tell anyone it wasn’t about you, but about his reputation, but he knew deep down it was about you. About you being in the arms of his best friend, no less. He just couldn’t admit it to himself yet. He’s not right for you. He’s not right for anyone.

The afternoon comes to a close when your mom arrives for the night. She gives you and Jiyong a hug, apparently, he’s gotten close with your mom too.

“Is Seung picking you up or do you need a ride home?” Jiyong asks as he grabs his jacket.

“Oh, uh I could use a ride. He’s busy,” you say silently praying he won’t ask questions. Jiyong just smiles, happy to have the time with you.

The two of you walk down to the car, the drive quiet, comfortable, and easy.

“What about dinner?” He asks suddnely.

“I don’t know,” you stare out the window.

“Well, I’ll stop and you can get something.” He offers and you nod your head with an apologetic smile. You stare out the window as he drives to a fast-food restaurant.

You order what you want and scarf it down. It’d been the first real food you’d had that day.

“I can’t believe he didn’t even think to bring his wife something to at least snack on,” Jiyong grumbles. You don’t respond. You can’t. Because he’s right.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He offers you a kind smile.

In the driveway of your newly shared home, the one you haven’t even seen yet, Jiyong puts the car in park.

“Here you are. Casa el Choi.” He says and you should smile, but the energy to fake anything has left you completely. You sit in the seat for a minute staring at the house.

“Y/n?” Jiyong asks.

“Hmm? Oh, right. Yeah, home.” Your voice is void of any happiness or excitement.

“I know it’s not my business, but is everything all right?” You look over at his face, Jiyong’s tone matches it perfectly.

Worry.

Your heart swells at the fact that he genuinely seems to care, so much so that you can’t even think straight.

You lean over the console of the car and place a heated needy kiss to his lips. Jiyong stays frozen, all except for his lips. It’s not neat, it’s not sweet, it’s full of lust and carnal desire.

He gently pushes you back and looks at you bewildered.

“Oh fuck,” you say as you realize what you just did.

“I’m sorry, really I-I didn’t meant to, I swear I was caught up in the moment,” you fumble with your seat belt and you try to escape the situation. Jiyong just watches you, shocked that his best friend’s wife just kissed him.

“Thank you for the ride, again I’m really sorry.” You open the door to get out before freezing with one leg out of the expensive car.

“Ji,” you call out not looking toward him.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell him.”

*This is my original work. Please do no repost!*

Tags: @breakmeoff @ilovethe141 @tom-hollands-blog @tabibabib @gdgirl21 @124s

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