#jiyong x reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
then came paris
pairing: gdragon x reader tags: drabble. enemies to lovers part of the emmieverse special—see here
you hated the way he smiled like he knew everything. like he had already won.
and maybe he had—because somehow, even with all that arrogance, all that infuriating charm, he still made your stomach twist.
jiyong was the kind of person who entered a room like it belonged to him. effortless, untouchable. and ever since the first time you met—at some art event neither of you wanted to be at—he had made it a game to get under your skin.
"you call that an outfit?"
you had scoffed, “says the man who wore sunglasses inside.”
his smirk had been lethal.
the rivalry bloomed fast. critiques turned into veiled insults. shared friends grew tired of the tension crackling between you. everyone could see it—everyone but the two of you.
and then came paris.
a shared gig. one hotel. two rooms accidentally booked as one.
neither of you wanted to back down. so you stayed.
nights turned quieter. cold shoulders became awkward brush-bys. one night, he came back soaked from the rain, jacket slung over his shoulder, hair slicked back and eyes softer than you had ever seen.
"i’m tired of fighting with you," he confessed, voice rough from the cold.
you meant to say something sharp, something clever. but the words never came.
instead, you looked at him and realized you were just tired—tired of pretending his presence did not feel electric.
so you kissed him first.
and it was not soft. it was a collision. years of bitterness melted into heat. his hands gripped your waist like he had been starving for the taste of your defiance.
"you’re so annoying," you whispered against his lips.
he laughed, breathless. “you love it.”
and maybe you did.
maybe you always had.
#⋆ 𐙚 ̊.ᯓ 𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥#emmiesoverthemoon#bigbang#gdragon#kwon jiyong#bigbang x reader#g dragon#kpop#gdragon x reader#fanfic
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
‘POWER | kwon jiyong x reader



PAIRING: gdragon x reader
CONTENT: smut, angst, situationship/toxic relationship, power imbalance, praise & degrading, fingering, dacryphilia (the tiniest bit), accidentally wrote him with a neck fetish or smth idk, bondage, oral & unprotected sex, orgasm denial, knife play, he’s not emotionally abusive he’s misunderstood i swear !!
SYNOPSIS: you knew who he was to the world: confident, untouchable, power incarnate. but behind closed doors, you saw something else— something raw. when he touched you, it wasn't just desire— it was desperation.
AUTHORS NOTE: first smut fic ahhhh 😓 i honestly had sm fun with this what the flip, writing this made me miss my ex #comebackhomebae
also apart of the übermensch series !!
words: [2.6k]
YOU should’ve known the moment the line between love and lust blurred, everything would fall apart. At first, it was sweet, innocent, perfect. But as the months went by, your relationship warped into something more depraved.
Every day, there was a new issue at work. Usually, you’d comfort him and reassure him that it would pass, but over time, he started growing cold toward you. He ignored your messages, passed you without a word— like you were already gone, and every time it happened, a sharp ache spread through your chest.
You kept telling yourself it would get better, but it never did. Whenever you tried to talk to him about it, another argument would start. It was like he didn’t care about fixing things anymore.
So, you ended things. Told him if he wasn’t going to try, then what was the point? What hurt the most was that he didn’t even seem to care. Instead of accepting his mistakes and trying to make things right, he acted like none of it had ever mattered to begin with.
“Jiyong, I can’t do this anymore,” you said, voice trembling as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, throat raw from holding everything in for too long.
He didn’t even look at you. “Do what?”
“This! Us! I’ve tried so many fucking times to get through to you, but you don’t even care!” Your voice cracked as the tears finally fell, cheeks wet and burning. “I understand work is hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing. I’m not your punching bag— I’m not just here to take your anger!”
He let out a slow exhale and shrugged. “Then don’t.”
You froze, eyes wide. He didn’t even flinch. You stared at him in disbelief. After everything— after every night you held him as he cried over the pressure, every time you stayed up just to hear about his day— this was his answer?
“If you’re so tired, just leave. What do you want me to do? I can’t change how you feel.” he muttered, still refusing to meet your gaze, as if your pain was a burden to him.
You stepped back like he’d slapped you. “Unbelievable.” you whispered. “Do you even hear yourself? You really don’t give a shit, do you?”
He scoffed under his breath and leaned back, arms crossed as if he'd already checked out of the conversation.
And just like that, something inside you snapped.
Your sadness turned into blinding rage. All the late nights, the ignored calls, the way he made you feel invisible— it all came rushing up like fire in your throat. You snatched your purse, your keys, anything that belonged to you with shaking hands.
“I fucking hate you,” you spat, pain laced in every syllable. You didn’t mean it— you loved him so deeply it hurt— but in that moment, you needed him to hurt too. You wanted him to feel every bit of the pain he left you with.
Fuming, you stomped out the front door with your arms full, not bothering to look back. You decided that if he never cared, you wouldn’t either.
That had been a month ago. At first, your breakup went somewhat smoothly. Neither of you called each other— no texts, no profile views, nothing.
But after the first week, none other than Jiyong appeared at your front door, claiming he left some of his things.
Long story short, you ended up doing more than just finding his belongings— being left with countless hickies and rather sore legs. It didn’t stop after that, though. Every couple days since then, Jiyong stopped by with another lame excuse— and you let him in each time. Because as much as you hated yourself for it, having a piece of him still felt better than having nothing at all.
Now, it had been over a week since he last came, and as much as you hated to admit, you missed him. The smell of his cologne on your sheets, the way his voice rasped your name against your skin, the weight of his body tangled with yours like you were something he couldn’t let go of— even if you both knew that wasn’t true.
Your life dulled into a head-throbbing silence after the breakup. No unexpected knocks at the door, nobody to hold as you went to sleep after a long day. It was just you now — you and the thoughts you tried so desperately to outrun.
Hooking up with Jiyong, if even for a few hours, had been the only thing that made you feel alive. It was toxic— you knew it. But he brought you to your highest highs, even if he plunged you into your lowest lows right after.
You stared at your phone, debating whether to break the silence. Just one message, just to see if he’d respond. You hated how desperate you felt, hated that your body still ached for someone who had emotionally abandoned you long before the breakup.
But before you could talk yourself out of it, there was a knock at the door. Your heart jumped, you didn’t need to check who it was— you already knew.
Your hand trembled on the doorknob, torn between shutting him out and the part of you that still craved his touch. Finally, with a shaky breath, you gave in— unlocking the door because, deep down, you wanted this.
He stood there, hood up, hands in his pockets like nothing had changed. “Left my charger,” he mumbled, voice low, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.
Bullshit.
You didn’t answer. You just stepped aside and let him in, even though every rational part of you screamed not to. Because even now, after everything, a piece of him still felt better than none.
Walking around, Jiyong entered and exited rooms as if he were actually looking for something— but you knew why he was here. It was the same reason everytime.
You hated how much power he had over you. He literally just walked in your house as if he owned it after a week of no contact, and you just let it happen. It was like he put a spell on you.
Leaving your room empty handed, Jiyong turned to you.
“Can’t find it” He said with a smirk on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Can you help me look?”
You smiled, already knowing exactly where this was going. Your body moved willingly, betraying every protest your mind tried to whisper. You stepped into your room, pretending to search— eyes scanning drawers, fingers tugging open a basket next to your bed, doing anything to look busy.
You told yourself you were only playing along, just going through the motions. But deep down, a part of you wanted this, needed it. Because no matter how twisted he made things, Jiyong was the only one who could make your body forget it all.
You were crouched beside the bed, fingers aimlessly shifting things around when you heard him behind you— voice low, lazy, and dripping with heat.
“You look good like that— bent over.”
A flash of heat rose to your cheeks. You tried to hide the smirk tugging at your lips as you answered, loud and dry. “Whatever, Jiyong.”
But you didn’t move, you didn’t stop him. And he didn’t hesitate.
He stepped closer, voice low and rough. “Can I?”
You swallowed hard, breathless, and nodded. His hand then grazed your lower back, sliding down over the curve of your ass.
His fingers pressed firmly, possessively— like he was reminding you who you belonged to. “I missed this,” he murmured into your ear, lips barely grazing your skin. “Missed you.”
“I need you, now.” you whispered, breath hitching when his hand slipped between your thighs, cupping you through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips jolted instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.
“I know you do, baby.” he whispered, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. “No matter how much you say you hate me.”
You could’ve stopped him, but you didn’t want to— not tonight. Not when your whole body remembered what it felt like to be his. Leaning into him, back arching, your head tilted back to give him more access.
You yearned for his touch, your past issues leaving your mind as soon as he laid a finger on you. He was your weakness, your addiction.
His fingers broke the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin just beneath as his lips dragged along your neck. The way he touched you made you dizzy— slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you piece by piece.
“Already so wet” he murmured, voice low and smug, fingers now gliding through your folds with a dazing rhythm. “Missed me that bad, huh?”
You didn’t respond— you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you with every shaky breath, every low moan spilling from your lips as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles that had your hips grinding back into him instinctively.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your spine as he pulled you closer, hand gripping your waist like he was holding himself back from completely losing control.
“God, you’re so needy,” he growled, his voice rougher now, almost breathless. Your moans turned into gibberish and incoherent whines as you felt your stomach tighten familiarly, but just when you thought you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped.
“Do you want this, princess?” He asked, removing his hand from your waist to turn your head towards his. “Say the word, and I’ll make you forget every reason you left.”
All your pride, all the promises you made to never let him do this again, evaporated on your tongue as you spoke up, practically whining, “Fuck—yes, Jiyong, please.”
He smirked, satisfied with your desperation, and in one swift motion, picked you up and threw you onto the bed. You barely had time to react before he practically tore both of your shirts off and latched onto your mouth.
“You beg so pretty for me,” he said, pulling away and panting like he’d just run a marathon. “You always do.”
His mouth found your neck in no time, sucking on that spot he knew drove you crazy, while he fondled your breast using his free hand. With each bite to your neck, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you grind up against him out of pure need.
“Not yet, pretty,” he teased. “Gotta get you ready first. Don’t you wanna have fun?” He smiled— just as cocky as he was when you were together.
You whimpered under him, the ache between your thighs unbearable as he continued to toy with your body like it belonged to him— because in a way, it always had.
“Jiyong,” you breathed, fingers curling into the sheets as his tongue dragged lazily along the edge of your collarbone. “Please…”
“Oh? Now you’re polite?” he teased, voice soaked in poison. “Didn’t sound so sweet when you walked out that door, did you?”
His words stung, but the way his fingers slipped between your legs silenced every ounce of pride you had left. He pushed your shorts down your thighs, then leaned back to take in the sight of you— panting, flushed, and needy for him.
“Look at you.” he muttered, dragging his fingers slowly over your soaked panties. “You hate me, right? But your body…” he smirked as he pressed against your clit through the fabric, causing you to gasp, “doesn’t lie.”
The way his fingers circled and teased was enough to have your back arching, your chest heaving as your body screamed for more. Jiyong held your hips down, forcing you to stay in place and endure his restless teasing.
He leaned down again, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me how bad you want it.” he whispered, “Beg for me like you mean it.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to give up your pride— but the words fell out anyway, breathless and broken. “I want you, Jiyong. I need you.”
With that, he yanked your panties down and spread your legs, gaze darkening as he settled between them. “Good girl,” he said lowly, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Let me remind you exactly who you belong to.”
Then his mouth was on you— hot, skilled, relentless. Every flick of his tongue, every graze of his teeth had you unraveling more and more beneath him, gripping the sheets like a lifeline as he devoured you without mercy.
Your thighs trembled as his tongue worked you over with slow, devastating precision. He knew every inch of your body— every spot that made you squirm, every rhythm that made your eyes roll back, and he didn’t let up— not even for a second.
“Fuck— Jiyong,” you moaned, back arching as you tugged at his hair, needing something— anything—to ground you.
He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips, gripping your thighs tighter as he sucked on your clit just long enough to have your legs threatening to close around his head.
“Oh no, baby,” he muttered, pulling back from inbetween your thighs just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, eyes dark and full of lust. “Keep those legs open for me. You wanted this, remember?”
You nodded frantically, too close to stop, too far gone to care about anything but the knot building inside you— tight, hot, and on the verge of snapping.
He slipped two fingers inside you with no warning, curling them perfectly as his mouth returned to its place between your thighs. His pace was brutal, overwhelming, yet perfect.
“I can feel how close you are.” he muttered against your core. “You gonna come already? Hm?”
A string of broken cries left your lips as your hips bucked against his face. He held you down firmly, tipping you over the edge with a deep suck to your clit that sent your vision blurring.
You came with a gasp, voice catching in your throat as your body flooded with pleasure. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and whimpering from the overstimulation, trying to push him away.
Only then did he pull back, licking his lips with a smug grin like he hadn’t just completely ruined you. “Still hate me?” he asked, voice low and hoarse as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You blinked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, as your lips hung open, unable to speak— because the truth was, you didn’t even know anymore.
Your breathing was still uneven, body trembling from the sensitivity when Jiyong stood slowly, towering over you like he owned every inch of you. His eyes were dark, hungry— but calculated. Like he had more in store.
“You think we’re done, baby?” he asked, voice low and commanding, tugging your jaw up to meet his gaze.
Before you could even answer, he gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. His grip was tight, possessive—but beneath it, you caught a flicker of desperation. Like he was afraid of losing you more than anything.
You heard the faint clink of something metal before you felt the cool press of leather circling your wrists. He strapped you to the headboard with deliberate care, then tugged on your arms a couple times, making sure you couldn’t move.
“Jiyong,” you whispered, testing the restraints, “What are you—”
“Shh.” He kissed your temple. “You okay? Are you comfortable with this?” he asked, eyes still on the belt as he pulled it snug.
Nodding quickly, Jiyong made a low ‘tsk’ sound as he shook his head. “Gotta use your words, baby.”
“Yes, please touch me, Jiyong.” you breathed.
A dark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s my good girl.” He reached into his back pocket and, to your surprise, pulled out a small, familiar knife. Your body tensed, heart pounding in your chest. Not from fear— from thrill.
“You know I’d never hurt you” he murmured, dragging the blunt edge of the blade down the center of your stomach— slow, teasing, just like the other times. “I just like watching you squirm.”
The cold steel drew along your skin, just enough to make you shiver. Then, it slipped beneath the bridge of your bra. With one clean flick, he sliced it straight down the middle— fabric popping loose, freeing your boobs like they’d been trapped for too long.
You gasped, nipples hardening at the air hitting them. Jiyong returned to your neck once again, hands wandering all around your body as if he were admiring a work of art.
“Spread.” he said as he lifted himself from your body, not raising his voice. You obeyed, opening your legs to display yourself for him under the dim lights.
“Look at that,” he whispered, letting the ice cold blade trail up the inside of your thigh lightly. “You let me back in after everything— and now you’re dripping for me.”
He tossed the knife aside safely, then leaned in, his lips brushing your neck as his fingers slid between your legs. But instead of giving you what you wanted, he hovered, traced, toyed.
One finger pressed in, achingly slow— then out. You felt so embarrassingly empty, like there was nothing but air in your body. You whimpered, pulling against your restraints. “Please, Jiyong… please.”
He kissed your throat, open-mouthed and slow, tongue dragging against your pulse. His mouth left wet trails on your skin, giving you goosebumps from the cold air clashing with it.
“You don’t get to come,” he whispered, lips against your ear, “not until I say so. Not until I’ve fucked the memory of any life without me out of that pretty little head.”
Your breath hitched. You hated how much you wanted that.
He moved between your thighs and dragged his tongue through your folds— slow, precise, agonizing. Every movement was calculated, every groan from his throat deliberate— all to make his teasing that much more unbearable.
“You sound so pretty for me.” he spoke, slipping two fingers inside you and curling them just right. “You always do.”
As you stretched out by his thick fingers, your moans increased in volume. And when your body started to tighten; hips twitching, breath turning shallow— he pulled away again.
You cried out, frustrated, desperate.
He leaned over you, rubbing slow circles on your clit with maddening restraint, just enough to edge you again and again. “Not yet,” he warned with a smirk. “You wanna come, baby? You’re going to earn it.”
Even knowing how wrong it was, you still wanted him— wanted this. You weren’t giving in, you were choosing it. Nodding quickly, your voice nearly broke as you pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Please.”
“Good,” he said, kissing your bound wrists. “Then stay just like that.”
Fondling with the button on his jeans, he unfastened his pants, dragging them down along with his boxers simultaneously. His cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen with a wet, heavy sound that made your mouth go dry.
He stroked himself once, twice— slow and controlled, eyes locked on you the entire time. “You see what you do to me?” he asked, voice rough, teasing. “You’ve been teasing me too, princess. All those days without texting me… acting like I didn’t exist.”
He climbed over you again, the head of his cock dragging through your soaked folds but never pushing in. Just enough to make you squirm in desperation.
“But now I’ve got you tied to your bed,” he whispered, lining himself up and gripping your hips. “Now you’re mine again.”
He ran the thick head of his cock through your folds once again, gathering every drop of your slick, making you shiver as he teased your entrance. He didn’t rush it. He took his time— dragging the tip up and down, groaning low in his throat as you whimpered beneath him.
When he finally pushed in, it wasn’t aggressive, he had just the right amount of force that made your eyes water.
A steady, stretching pressure that had your back arching, mouth falling open. He eased in inch by inch, watching every expression wash across your face, his hand rubbing gentle circles into your thigh to ground you.
“That’s it, good job, love.” he muttered, voice rough. “Taking me so well.”
Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you just a second to adjust— his hand running soothingly over your stomach, your wrists still bound above you, completely at his mercy.
Then he pulled out halfway and thrust back in, harder this time, setting a rhythm that was rough enough to leave you gasping, but not enough to hurt. Every thrust was deep yet controlled, performed to drive you crazy, not break you.
“You feel that?” he growled into your ear, hips slamming into yours with a sharp snap. “Every inch of me inside you, stretching you open. You were made for me.”
You moaned helplessly, legs trembling as he kept going, his grip on your thighs tightening just enough to anchor you in place, to let you know you weren’t going anywhere.
“Say it,” he demanded, voice breathless against your neck. “Say who you belong to.” He dipped down to place wet kisses on your chest, tongue drawing patterns on your skin.
“Fuck— You, Jiyong. Im all yours.” You whined, throat going dry as you struggled to get your words out. Jiyong let out a satisfied hum as he kept going, hips snapping into you even faster.
Tears of overwhelming pleasure welled in your eyes as he hit the spot that drove you wild. Suddenly, he lifted your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest.
The new angle pushed him even deeper inside you as you cried out in pleasure. You tugged at your restraints as he pounded into you relentlessly.
The sound of the headboard knocking against the wall echoed through the room, but you barely registered it. Your focus was on Jiyong— on the way his body moved against yours like he knew you inside and out, like this was the only place you belonged; beneath and completely giving yourself to him.
Your thighs trembled against his hips, legs still folded against your chest as he buried himself deeper, over and over, with an overwhelming rhythm. Your wrists ached in their restraints, every ounce of control you once had belonged to him now.
“Look at you,” he whispered, voice low and dark as his thumb traces firm circles on your clit. “Falling apart just because I’m inside you. Crying for me, begging for me... this is what you needed, isn’t it?”
You whimpered, nodding as your back arched again. The burn in your stomach was unbearable, once again feeling that your pressure in your core. You were close, and he could feel it.
“Not yet,” Jiyong hissed against your ear, slowing down just enough to make you sob out of frustration. “Not until I say so.”
“Please— please, Jiyong,” you choked out, tears slipping down your temples as your body trembled under him. “I can’t... I need to—”
He cut you off with a sharp kiss, biting down on your lower lip before pulling away. “You can. And you will— for me.”
Then, without warning, he shifted his grip, pulled out almost completely, and slammed back into you hard enough to pull the breath from your lungs. Again, then again.
Your orgasm slammed into you like a flood. It ripped through your body with an intensity you hadn’t felt in months— your muscles clenching, vision blurring, cries spilling freely from your lips.
“Good girl,” he praised, voice thick and hoarse now as he chased his own high. “That’s it. Just like that.”
After a few more brutal thrusts, his climax followed. Jiyong's head dropped against your neck, breath hot against your skin as his body tensed above yours.
The room fell silent, filled with your combined panting rather than words. The sheets tangled beneath your bodies like evidence of everything you promised yourself you wouldn't do again.
A heavy ache settled in your chest as reality began to return, creeping in through the cracks his touch temporarily sealed shut. You looked up at the ceiling, wrists still tied, lips swollen, heart pounding for reasons far beyond lust.
After a few minutes, Jiyong finally moved. He slid out of bed without saying a word, pulling on his boxers before disappearing into the connected bathroom. The sound of water running filled the silence, and for a brief moment, you thought maybe he was going to leave.
But he didn’t.
The water shut off, and not long after, he returned— shirtless, damp hair pushed back, a wet washcloth in one hand and one of his oversized shirts in the other.
Without a word, he climbed back onto the bed, gently untying your wrists before wiping you down with the warm cloth. The soft heat of it contrasted with the cool air and the sting still lingering on your skin. He moved slowly, carefully— like he hadn’t just torn you open in every way imaginable.
“Too much?” he asked softly.
You shook your head. “No. It’s what I needed.” Sometimes, you hated how tender he was afterward— how it made your chest hurt in a different way. But this time you felt yourself melting into his touch, as if he were healing all your problems.
After cleaning you up, he helped you into the shirt, his fingers brushing your hips as he slid it over your arms. You winced slightly when the fabric grazed a sore spot, and he stilled, eyes flicking to yours.
“Sorry” he whispered, rubbing your skin with his hands softly to ease the pain
You managed a small smile. “It’s okay, I’ll feel better soon.”
Once you were dressed, Jiyong laid beside you again. The space between you was small but felt so much bigger. The silence was heavy with things neither of you knew how to say.
Your eyes wandered toward your ruined bra, the torn fabric laying limp near the edge of the bed. You gave Jiyong a sharp look.
He caught it immediately, smirking faintly as he leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t worry, jagi,” he said. “I’ll buy you five more.”
After the storm of lust passed, he traced circles on your back softly. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, voice raw and honest. You wanted to believe him, and for a moment, you did.
Unfortunately, you both knew that tomorrow, nothing would be fixed. Nothing would be different. Yet here you were again, wrapped in the same cycle.
He knew how much power he had. The way he kissed you like a promise, only to vanish like a ghost. He always came back. And you always let him.
Neither of you spoke, but the silence said enough.
When you looked at him, neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew. This cycle would repeat, no matter how much you wished it wouldn’t.
You hated him and you hated how happy you were to let him in, but most of all— you hated how you still loved him.
taglist: @breakmeoff @steponupbabe @tabibabib @mintymuse @heartubeatusalon @sternilei @julseysmel
#kwon jiyong x reader#kwon jiyong#kwon jiyong smut#bigbang x reader#big bang x reader#bigbang ot4#gdragon x reader#gdragon#gd x reader#gd bigbang#gdragon smut#bigbang smut#jiyong x reader#jiyongie#ubermensch#übermensch#bigbang#choi seunghyun#t.o.p#top bigbang#choi seung hyun#kang daesung#daesung#smut#complex smut#black writer#dong youngbae#youngbae#taeyang
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Being His Latina Girlfriend | G Dragon
Masterlist
At first when he met you he would be hounding you whenever you entered the room
And I mean hounding you as in; stares at you with no shame, winks at you even if people are looking, lip biting, etc.
You only knew him because Taeyang had introduced you both and regretted it after
“G, can you stop drooling over her for just one minute and pay attention to the keys you’re pushing on the control panel!”
“What?”
You would just be visiting them one day, while bringing them some food to eat since Taeyang had texted you saying he missed your delicious -tortas- food.
So you being the kind ass would bring the most you could carry with you.
Once Jiyong saw you walk through their studio doors with bags full of food and drinks, uff, heart eyes and thirst yo
“(y/n)! Here let me help you!”
Would push Daesung out of the way to help you
Taeyang and Seunghyun would only shake their heads and laugh
Once he had taken all the bags from your hands he would just smile at you, eyes sparkling
“Gracias Jiyong!”
His heart would just kick his chest at you thanking him in your native tongue
“Anything for you baby”
“Yah, who let their dog off their leash?”
Meanwhile Seunghyun would high five Taeyang as Daesung would laugh with them making Jiyong scowl at them
BUT ANYWAYS
Once he had asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes, oh boy
Little kisses here, little hugs there
He would not let you out of his sight
Would cherish you to the bone
Calling you jagi, mamacita, baby, princesa
And IF you are younger than him -96 liner or something- uff, would make you call him “oppa”
“Hey Ji, can you-”
“Nu uh, princesa.”
“...Oppa…”
“Yes, baby?”
Would ask you to cook together your traditional dishes of your culture
Probably would let something burn because he becomes all touchy with you
“Can you stop kissing me? The food’s going to burn.”
“Let it burn. Right now I just want your ass in that bedroom in five seconds.”
“I’m not letting my house burn because of your horny ass!”
A lot of spanish arguing from your part about something stupid that you both are fighting about
Would highkey find it hot af
Wouldn’t know what you are saying but would argue back with you just for fun
“You sound so fucking hot when you talk Spanish to me”
Would ask you after to teach him some curse words to use them against the guys
Then the following day he would walk into the studio with a grin on his face while the others are just thinking he got laid like usual
“Hey putos!”
Daesung, Seunghyun and Taeyang would just turn to look at him like “wtf did you just say to us”
But Taeyang would probably already know what he meant since he is your best friend and you had taught him some spanish by now
“Tú puto, pendejo.”
Jiyong would just stand and try to remember something else you had taught him as Taeyang would just be smug
“Eres…” would start to panic lowkey
“Ya cállate la boca, and help us you idiot”
Pouty boy all day
Honestly I just think he would be so into you and would want to meet your family even if they might not be able to talk to one another comfortably, he would try his hardest to get along with them for you
“I think your dad likes me” he would say with a smug smile
“Oh really? What makes you say that?”
Would point to his tattoo on the back of his neck, “He said he liked my tattoo and asked for info on who did it”
Your mom would probably love him because he knows how to make ponche just the way she likes it
“Ya casense!”
“Ama!”
“What did your mom say?”
“Nothing…”
Taeyang would just walk into the kitchen and grab some ponche before saying “She said to get married already.”
You death glare at him meanwhile Jiyong would smile so wide my god that gummy smile
Taeyang is basically your mom’s favorite Korean son she wished she had
Basically spends his free time there because of your mom’s amazing food and your dad’s stash of tequila
Ji loves how you guys have huge parties for anyones birthday
Could be Taeyang’s birthday and they would have a taquero, mariachi, hella candy for the kids, pinatas, lots and lots of food, even the neighbors would be there along with the guys (Daesung, Seunghyun and Seungri)
Loves how everyone is so friendly and how your uncles and aunts are getting down crazy with the banda and alcohol
“And I thought we got crazy with so much alcohol”
He would have a blast seeing kids trying to break open the pinata, that he would help the little ones try to break it
That’s when you realize you want kids with him because he’s so loving with kids and he just looks like a natural dad with them
He would turn to you smiling with one of your nephew’s in his arms with a bag full of candy for him
In the end, just get yourself a Kwon “G Dragon” Jiyong as a boyfriend
#Kwon Jiyong#Jiyong#jiyong scenario#g dragon#g dragon scenarios#big bang#jiyong x reader#g dragon x reader#latina reader
278 notes
·
View notes
Text






Jun 19th . 2025
@ 8lo8lo8lowme on instagram
#bigbang#bigbang ot4#bigbang x reader#gdragon#kwon jiyong#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#übermensch#g dragon#bigbang gdragon#jiyong x reader#jiyongie#jiyong
27 notes
·
View notes
Text



Fogged Up Windows | Kwon Jiyong
warnings: some sexual tension, implied smut. enjoy;)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
driving through seoul, the streets were basically empty, lights cascading down on the dewy streets, moonlight shining through the windows.
The rain hit the windshield in soft, erratic taps, like fingertips drumming against glass. The world outside was all blurred lights and shadows, but in here—inside Jiyong’s car—it was still. Quiet. Heavy.
Not when the air between us buzzed like a live wire.
Not when I could still feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh from earlier, like it was the most casual thing on the planet.
earlier that night, you wanted to clear your head, get rid of the noise for just a little. that’s all— a lot had been going on recently and you needed some distance from it all.
so you called him. and he showed up. no questions asked.
you dont know why. but you did, you and jiyong weren’t the closest— but, you couldn’t think of anyone else.
.
“Y/N,” he murmured, like he could hear my thoughts. “You’re quiet.”
I turned to him. The streetlights lit his face in flashes—sharp jaw, dark eyes, the curve of his smirk that always meant trouble. I hated how much I loved that smirk.
“Just thinking,” I said.
His gaze dropped to my lips. “About what?”
I swallowed. “Does it matter?”
I turned to him. The streetlights lit his face in flashes—sharp jaw, dark eyes, the curve of his smirk that always meant trouble.
He leaned in slightly, his gaze darting from my eyes to my lips.
My breath caught. I didn’t move. He was too close.
He smiled like he’d won something, and his fingers found my knee—bare under the hem of my skirt. They slid up, slow, dragging heat in their wake.
He leaned in, close enough that I could smell the leather of his jacket, the faint spice of his cologne. His voice dropped lower. “It does if you’re thinking about me.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
My breath caught. I didn’t move. He was too close.
his hands slip up my skirt, higher now, resting on my inner thigh. shivers ran down your spine.
you could feel the heat bubbling in your stomach
“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice soft but firm.
I didn’t.
Instead, I shifted slightly toward him, parting my thighs just a little. His hand slid higher.
The sound of rain filled the silence, hard and fast now, a sharp rhythm matching my heartbeat.
His fingers hovered at the edge of my underwear, barely touching. Just teasing. I could feel the warmth of him without contact, and it made me ache.
“You like this,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “Sitting here, all pretty and wet, pretending you’re not waiting for me to touch you.”
“Then stop teasing,” I breathed.
His smile deepened. “No.”
His fingers pressed against me through the thin fabric, slow circles that had my hips lifting off the seat before I could stop myself.
“Jiyong…” i sigh, melting into his touch.
“Shh,” he whispered, slipping a finger under the fabric. “Let me take my time.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
#bigbang#kwon jiyong#gdragon#gdragon bigbang#jiyong x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#jiyong#smut#kwon jiyong smut#gdragon x reader
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
bf!jiyong ✩ headcanons



warnings: 18+, smut.
a/n: jiyong is so bf core, i love the pic of him above he’s so adorable
sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
• jiyong is extremely protective of you, but especially when you two go out in public together. paparazzi can be overwhelming. he’ll always lend you a pair of sunglasses, hold your hand tightly, and wrap his other arm around you, sheilding you.
• he is sooo touchy. his hands always have to be innocently on you in some way. whether he’s holding your waist, rubbing your hand, or drawing small circles on your thigh.
• when you’re able to come watch him perform live on his concerts, it’s the best night of his life. he’ll always sneak glances at you from where you’re standing backstage, a helpless smile growing on his face. as soon as the last song has ended, he’s rushing off the stage and into your arms, holding you tightly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
• once you guys have been dating for a while and he becomes more comfortable, he’ll casually mention how he can’t wait to marry you and have kids. he’ll say it so casually, as if he hasn’t known that he would he marry you the day that he met you.
• jiyong is totally whipped for you. you can be doing the most boring task and he’ll watch you endearingly, taking in your features, before reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and whispering, “you’re so beautiful.”
nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
• no quickies whatsoever with jiyong. he likes to take his time with you, and although it’s sometimes torturous to wait for the right moment, he prefers the build up. as soon as the moment presents itself, he’s all over you like a madman, hurriedly taking off his clothes and yours, too.
• if he’s gone for too long without seeing you on tour, it’ll definitely translate into the bedroom as soon as you visit. jiyong is replaced by g-dragon. he’s rougher than usual, pushing you onto the bed and not even bothering to fully undress.
• speaking of which, he gets needy for you very easily. you could barely be teasing him, tongue lightly tracing his tip and he’ll already be whimpering your name. “please…” as you look up at him through your eyelashes, he’ll avert your gaze, cheeks flushing pink at his own neediness for you.
• jiyong is the best at aftercare. he’ll immediately pull you into his arms, stroking your hair, and asking you what you need. water? he’s getting up and filling you a glass to the brim. a towel? he has one already ready for you. a shower? he’ll instantly run the water for you, making sure it’s just the right temperature.
#jiyong#kwon jiyong#ji yong#kwon ji yong#jiyongie#jiyong x reader#gd#g dragon#gdragon#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#g dragon x reader#kwon ji yong x reader#ji yong x reader#bigbang#bigbang fic#bigbang x reader
681 notes
·
View notes
Text
spill the tea | kwon jiyong
a/n – so, I wrote this during class, I couldn't pay attention, I was thinking too much about jiyong. I don't know if I'll do another part, it depends on your reaction, initially, I don't plan on doing pt.2, I'm enjoying doing a bit of angst so much, i don't understand... again, I just wrote what came to my head, the english is still kind of... bad, but I hope you like it!
everything has been lightly reviewed, please let me know of any grammar error/incorrect word!
summary: jiyong is anxious, very nervous about appearing on stage again in front of so many people, but you appear.
pairing: jiyong x gn!reader
warnings: a fair amount of self-deprecation, abusive work, mentions of anxiety, reader has confidence issues, angst, fluff
lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k (again)
spinning the rings on his fingers, jiyong’s palms sweat, and he unconsciously wipes them on his light pink pants. looking around absentmindedly, his thoughts race a mile a minute, and he exhales hurriedly.
hearing two soft knocks on the door, he looks at it, a bit confused.
“jiyong-nim?” you whisper, peeking in with only half of your face visible, your body still outside.
the man nods, giving you permission to enter. you smile softly and finally step inside.
“excuse me…” your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper, not wanting to be a bother. “since i know you like tea, i decided to make some and bring it to you.”
in your hand, you hold a metallic thermal bottle, and in the other, a small, delicate package of chocolate cookies you had baked just a few hours ago.
you can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling, returning to the stage after so many years. being part of his personal staff, you and the team always communicate with him directly.
well… not you. the others.
you never had the courage—nor the opportunity, really. not for lack of trying, but because of someone specific.
of course, the great g-dragon would have a highly qualified team of professionals. but you never felt like one of them, and that person made sure to remind you of your “proper place.” the moment jiyong turned his back, all of her frustrations were dumped onto you. maybe you were hired as a verbal punching bag for the “blessed being” without realizing it. it made you wonder if you had remembered to read the fine print.
she didn’t even bother to call you by your name—always using other names, but never yours.
of course, you had thought about reporting it, but someone as insignificant as you in this industry, compared to her—who is beloved and has more connections than you could count—who’s to say she wouldn’t send someone to get rid of you while you’re in the bathroom? you never know. you know they would never fire her. you losing your job would be much easier than any close employee of jiyong’s facing consequences.
you? a new hire? who gets stepped on by senior staff? reporting her and expecting her to be fired for abuse of power and verbal harassment—if that’s even considered a crime? never. only in your dreams.
you’ve always known that keeping quiet avoids unnecessary arguments, even if you constantly bite your tongue to hold back a sharp reply. you need this job to survive. the salary is too good, and you think you can endure a certain level of mistreatment. at the end of the day, you’re working for g-dragon.
kwon jiyong.
so, you put up with a little more.
you’ve always been someone who minds their own business, who hates being a burden, who puts effort and dedication into everything you do. that’s what got you here, and you won’t let nerves over trivial things get the best of you.
sometimes, you stop and wonder if it’s worth tolerating such ridiculous treatment. but then you remind yourself—you’re on your own. you handle things as best as you can with what you have.
just you and yourself.
you don’t remember having any true friendships you’d take with you for life. maybe some colleagues, but nothing like “i need a shoulder to lean on, can i talk to you?”
you don’t dwell on it. you don’t even seek that kind of connection anymore—you gave up long ago.
you care too much about what others think of you. you like leaving a good impression—being seen as reliable, always prepared, capable of doing whatever is asked of you.
but you also let people step on you—on your pride, almost on you, literally.
when did that become “okay”?
you have no idea. it feels like it’s always been this way. you’re invisible. never invited to anything. you watch others having fun, calling each other out for drinks, and you can’t even picture yourself in a situation like that.
honestly?
you silence your thoughts for now.
you hand him the tea and cookies, and he stands up, bowing politely, ever so charming. a small smile grace his beautiful face, bringing a subtle glow of admiration to your own, soon he sits down again.
“i tried making passion fruit tea with pomegranate… passion fruit helps with stress and mood, pomegranate helps with the throat in case of hoarseness or pain, and also—”
jiyong watches you ramble (your voice still soft and low, almost a whisper), his lips forming a small pout, eyes slightly wide, eyebrows subtly raised. one hand rests on his chin, legs crossed, elbow propped up.
for the first time since arriving here, he finds himself distracted, momentarily forgetting his nerves and anxiety.
thinking back, he realizes he has never interacted with you directly.
of course, he’s seen you around—always busy, whether carrying heavy boxes, taking notes from a distance, staying late to fix a loose button or sequin on his outfit, bringing drinks, coffee, and snacks for everyone (never personally handing them to him), and countless other tasks that he’s almost certain aren’t your responsibility.
he’s never seen you with anyone. a friend, or something like that.
not that he had noticed before.
but, you know, when people are close, it’s something you can feel.
jiyong’s thoughts (just like your rambling) are abruptly interrupted by the loud, sudden swing of the dressing room door.
both of your heads snap toward the sound.
“jiyo-ssi!! you’re up next, it’s packed today, hurry up!”
ah, it’s her. the very person who used you as her personal punching bag.
without so much as a polite greeting, she shoves you aside and grabs jiyong’s arm.
still surprised, he simply looks ahead as he’s dragged away in a rush.
you just stare down at your hands, now clasped together in front of you, until—
“___?”
startled, you look up—and see g-d smiling at you.
in your eyes, he glows.
“thank you so much. i feel a lot better now.”
his voice, deep yet gentle, carries the words, and suddenly, the world seems more colorful as you both look directly at each other.
have you ever noticed how beautiful his eyes are?
and then, the door closes.
you stay there, frozen, until your legs weaken, and you crouch down, placing a hand over your racing heart, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“…but you didn’t even drink the tea…” you murmur, embarrassed.
a/n – thanks for the positive reactions on 'thinkin' bout you'! I'm glad you liked it, it just makes me want to write more. this time I heard JK's 'still with you', it brought up a lot of feelings and I ended up pouring it all out in the reader's self-deprecating parts. Sorry not sorry. sorry again for my english, feel free to correct me kindly!
#gn!reader#gdragon x reader#bigbang gdragon#bigbang x reader#jiyong x reader#g dragon#kpop#kwon jiyong x reader#G dragon x reader
271 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii !! I just wanted to say your seunghyun/top post was so cute :’) i love it sm !!
I was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing something similar for jiyong? Maybe something based off that one interview where he says he acts more “childish” in a relationship as opposed to the “cool type” people assume he’d be!
If not, no worries !! I still love your writing regardless and am excited to see more ^^
soft bf!jiyong (headcannons)



summary: the reality of a relationship bf!jiyong.
an: hello! thank you for your kind words, they mean the world to me :,) i hope i did your request justice. enjoy!
bf!jiyong who: despite his image of the, “hard to get, playboy” is the complete opposite with you.
bf!jiyong who: before you started dating, wanted desperately to have all of your attention, every single ounce. he would always act silly and make jokes in order to get you to laugh. (which did not slip past the rest of bigbang.) it made his stomach do flips to be the cause of your smiles.
bf!jiyong who: could never bring himself to tell you he liked you, he was terrified of ruining your friendship. he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. so you could imagine how surprised he was when he came to see you backstage after he performed,(which was nothing out of the ordinary) and was met with you shyly handing him a handwritten letter. decorated with swooping letters, white lace, and, glitter hearts, declaring your love for him. he tried to be the picture of nonchalance as he rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted he had liked you for some time too. but, he was really doing jumping jacks in his head.
bf!jiyong who: is the most loyal person you’ve ever met who will defend you with his last breath. (you two were getting out of jiyongs drivers car. heading to a small cafe for a date. the paparazzi were surrounding the two of you as you tried to push through. a hand on the small of your back made your head shoot up, looking at your boyfriend, who carried a slightly annoyed look on his face. you were almost at the entrance when a voice called through the crowd, “hey lady! move out the way, i cant get a good shot!” you turned to see one of the paparazzi shooting you a glare. before you could respond, jiyong left your side and walked between you and the aging man. “hey! dont talk to her like that!” he barked as he smacked the camera away from his face. shooting the guy one last death glare, he raced back to you, intertwining your hands and pulling you inside.)
bf!jiyong who: when you guys go to places where you have to take your shoes off before you enter, kneels down infront of you and carefully unlaces your shoes and pulls them off, and when you leave slips them back on and laces them back up.
bf!jiyong who: insists on paying for everything the bill when you guys go out to eat, the rent for your shared apartment, for groceries, for the cable bill. no matter how much you insist you want to help, he declines every time. he likes to spoil you.
bf!jiyong who: learned how to braid hair—via youtube video, because he knew you hated when your hair was in your face.
bf!jiyong who: makes homemade gifts for you. such as, origami roses, oragami swans, origami hearts that, when unfolded have messages on the inside. he likes to do origami when he’s feeling overwhelmed. he finds it relaxing.
bf!jiyong who: has a love language of acts of service.
bf!jiyong who: loves to take care of you. wiping food from the corner of your mouth while you eat, doing your skincare after a night out, and you’re too tired to do so yourself, cooking you your favorite meals, massaging your neck after you slept wrong the night before.
bf!jiyong who: when he gets anxiety clutches your hand and draws circles on your palm.
bf!jiyong who: wears a silver bracelet engraved with your name on it and wears it religiously. the only time he takes it off is to shower.
bf!jiyong who: gave you one of his favorite rings. which, you wear on a chain around your neck at all times.
bf!jiyong who: has a photobook filled with Polaroids you take of each other, and, together. he likes to have physical photos of the two of you.
#kwon jiyong#jiyong x reader#g dragon#jiyong imagine#bigbang#bigbang imagine#g dragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader
764 notes
·
View notes
Text
#kwon jiyong i know what you are#happy pride 🌈#pride month#gay men#kwon jiyong x reader#bigbang x reader#bigbang#bigbang ot4#gdragon#jiyong#jiyong x reader#jiyongie#kwon jiyong#t.o.p bigbang#top bigbang#top#t.o.p x reader#t.o.p fanfic#t.o.p#t.o.p x gdragon#gdragon x reader#bigbang gdragon#gtop#gdtop
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
DANG, IS SHE THAT GOOD?
talking ji-yong through topping you.
nsfw. minors dni. c/w: fem!reader / sub!ji-yong. glimpses of domestic life. age gap. praise. unprotected sex. soft smut. a/n: typed w one hand tbh
ji-yong always found himself under you during sex. that’s just how he liked it best.
he’s a busy man, and he’s not young anymore either. after a long day at work, he just wants to kick his feet up and let you take care of him. and that’s fine by you! you’ve got youthful energy to spend, and there’s not many sights as precious as the king of kpop himself sprawled out beneath you, completely at your mercy.
he finally has the rare chance of some free time with you— a breather amongst his packed schedule during his comeback. actually managing to get him out of bed on his days off was a rarity. but today he’s eager to take you out, dedicate a day to you; make-up for how work’s been demanding most of his focus. you shake your head when he pulls out his black card, but he’s not taking no for an answer.
later that day you found yourselves tangled on the couch in a hot flurry of kisses. he couldn’t keep his hands to himself while you were out; you had to tell him off for being so touchy in public, cameras could be anywhere.
pinning you down was the first thing on his mind once you were back home. your hands are lost in his hair, his are snaked under your top. his knee’s hiked up and digging into your core, and he mumbles a cuss as you rock yourself on his leg. you figure, since you’re already here, you may as well ask:
“ji, baby. would you be on top?”
he’s taken aback. for a beat, he hums and tosses the idea over. it’s certainly been a while since he’s had the energy to take the reins of your intimacy. the imagery of you beneath him gets ji-yong hot— sending a pulse straight to his dick. then, he kisses you with such force that your head cranes back. he’s hungry and his tongue’s on yours and he’s grinding down into your core with a newfound vigour.
you’re fully committed: you’re biting your lip, arching your back. you even encourage him with soft mewls as he sucks at your neck. he’s already panting at the sight of you. you slide a hand between your bodies to palm at him, finding his trousers damp with his arousal. ji-yong trembles over with a moan. on instinct, he’s keeling over for you to take control.
your mouth’s hot on his ear as whine how bad you need him. with that, he practically rips off your bottoms, and is too impatient to tug his own all the way off as they bunch at his knees. your hand is atop his as he guides himself in, his face scrunching as he fills you to the hilt. he stays there for a beat— dick twitching inside of you. you hum:
“fuck me, hun.”
and he obeys. ji-yong sets a gruelling pace, snapping his hips in and out of you like crazy. you egg him on by letting moans slip from your mouth, and he has to bite his lip to muffle his own. you guide his hands all over your body: fondling your breast, squeezing your neck, even tilting your own hips up so each of his thrusts hit the sweet spot.
even though he’s on top, you’re directing ji-yong through his actions: “kiss my neck there again.” “go faster, i can take it.” “put my leg up, honey.” and of course, you reward him with compliments when he follows: “that felt really good, ji.” “you’re doing so well for me baby.” he was hanging on to your every word. the noises spilling from him were diabolical— he sounded like a pornstar.
a little greedy, you tease him with a few pulses of your core. ji-yong’s thrusts turn shallow before he pauses, dick spasming inside of you. as little whines left his mouth. your hands find his pelvis, coaxing him to move, but his body falls onto yours and pins you against the couch.
he shudders, “w-wait, please..”, you can feel his muscles flexing on your bare stomach. he’s begging you to not make him cum. he has to screw his eyes shut and focus, else your naked body’s going to teeter him off the edge. he does a quick snap of his hips— but has to immediately pull out and suck in a breath between his teeth. you soothe him, caressing his sides and pressing reassuring kisses to his nape. he frowns at himself. he’s not usually so quick..
“i want it, ji. c’mon,” he huffs out a sheepish laugh. “if you couldn’t tell..” his dick twitches on time. something cruel stirs in you; you snatch his hips and pull him to thrust back into you. his hands fumble in an attempt to restrain you, and he’s out of breaths to say it with words. you’re undeterred, leading him in and out for your own pleasure, and ji-yong can’t help but take it as you grind onto him. his head’s buried into your shoulder, your ear soaking up all of his cries.
“if you keep, ah,.. i can’t—” “go on, hun.” ji-yong tried to move his own hips between your control. he’s a whimpering mess as he cums, laying lifeless on-top of you as warm ropes shoot inside of you. you hum, pleased with him, drawing lines over his back muscles.
“ah, i don’t have the back for this.” that made you chuckle. “you made me feel so good, baby.” he groans, disagreeing about his performance. “no, i’m sorry. you didn’t cum,” he pressed his sweaty forehead into your neck. “sorry, just give me a minute and i’ll, yeah..” his voice was hoarse, still breathless from his orgasm. but he snakes a shaky palm to your cunt and fidgets for your clit. you giggle, moving his hand off of you with a reassuring peck. he had no idea you were about to roll over and ride him till you came.
💌 | @emmiesoverthemoon @kam0p @gguktro @990002 @captain-ducks-swim-in-the-pond
#kwon jiyong x reader#gdragon x reader#g dragon x reader#jiyong x reader#gdragon smut#jiyong smut#bigbang x reader#g dragon smut#bigbang smut#sub!idol#sub!bigbang#sub!gdragon
795 notes
·
View notes
Note
that recent clip of jiyong in the suit THE ONE U REPOSTED HERE saying “great heavens” ngh it got me thinking
if u want to can u write a story for jealous kinda possessive in his gdragon personality yk, and in the end its like all fluffy and stuff and then boom jiyong comes out YOU KNOW im sorry if that was hard to understand 😞
oh u read my mind i thought the SAME THING WHEN I SAW THE CLIP… great minds think alike
۶ৎ switch up
Pairing: g-dragon / kwon jiyong x reader
Word Count: 2,842
Summary: A playful act of teasing while behind the scenes of filming the 'Too Bad' music video spirals into a night of fervent passion, only to be soothed by the quiet intimacy of love—where whispered reassurances mean more than any game ever could.
Tags: too bad mv, teasing, flirting, implied sexual content, jealousy, slight hurt/comfort
cross posted on ao3 here
The studio hummed with life, a symphony of movement and sound, a feverish pulse of artistry in motion. The overhead lights blazed, casting long shadows, illuminating the polished floor where bodies twisted and turned in a carefully orchestrated dance. The bass trembled through your bones, the rhythm a second heartbeat, but none of it—none of it—commanded your attention like he does.
Kwon Jiyong, magnetic, effortless, devastatingly precise. Every movement of his was calculated yet unconstrained, a masterful paradox in silk and shadow. But it was not the choreography or his voice that was the captor of your breath, nor the music that sets your skin alight. It was him. It was the way the grey outfit molded yet also hung loosely to his frame, the sharp elegance yet casual oversized fit of it, the thick red fabric draped over the long column of his throat, a single knot of silk conducting promises of things it has no business promising. And the tie—God, the tie.
Your thoughts spiralled into places they should not go, especially in the workplace. Heat coiled in your stomach, restless, insatiable. You wanted him–needed him, all of him, and preferably still adorned in at least some of that infernal costume.
The director called it a cut, the electricity of the scene dissolving alongside their call. Jiyong murmured something to the nearby crew, his expression composed, but you knew him. You knew the subtle satisfaction in the set of his mouth, the sharp glint of artistic fulfillment in his gaze. He moved toward his dressing room, fingers already loosening the pristine knot at his throat, loosening his collar as a result. Your eyes formed a glint also, but not for the same reason–an opportunity had arisen.
You followed behind him, your footsteps light, measured, inconspicuous in the sea of movement. When you reached his door, you drummed your knuckles against the wood, your voice slipping into honey, playful and teasing.
"It’s me! Hello!!"
A soft, deep chuckle could be heard from inside the door, then, “Come in.”
The door clicks shut behind you, sealing the two of you away from the outside world. He stands with his back to you, already peeling off the first buttons of his shirt, revealing a sliver of bare skin. And there—just above the sharp curve of his shoulder blade—the wings of his angelic neck tattoo emerged from beneath the fabric, ink-dark against pale skin.
Your breath stuttered in your throat. It was beautiful. It was him. And you want it.
Jiyong spoke, something about the scenes you had just participated in, about the next costume change, but his words were a distant murmur, drowned beneath the rush of your own pulse. You hastily crossed the space between you, slipping your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against the warmth of his back, your forehead coming to rest between his shoulder blades. You inhaled, slow, deep, drinking him in—the faint spice of cologne, the lingering salt of sweat, the familiar scent of him beneath it all, intoxicating in its entirety.
He laughed, gentle and low, the vibration of it thrumming against your cheek. “Clingy today, aren’t we?”
Your answer was wordless. You tilted your head, lips grazing the nape of his neck in the lightest whisper of contact. A shiver rippled through him, almost imperceptible, but you felt it. Feeling encouraged, you continued—delicate kisses trailing upward, then downward, a slow, deliberate exploration. When you reached the ink of his tattoo, something inside of you shifted. Your lips lingered a little longer, the kisses deeper, more reverent, more possessive.
His exhale stuttered embarrassingly. “Baby—”
His hands, which had hung useless at his sides, now found yours, gripping them where they pressed against his stomach. His fingers tightened as you continued your exploration, mouth pressing lustful heat into his skin, your breath a warm ghost of promises. You could feel his pulse quicken beneath your lips, and the muscles of his abdomen tensing beneath your palms. Just as the moment thickened further, just as his grip on your hands turned desperate about to drag them downward toward his belt—
You pulled away. Completely.
He stilled. Slowly, he turned, pupils blown wide, expression unreadable save for the unmistakable heat simmering beneath the surface.
“That,” he murmured, panting, his voice husked with something dark and wanting, “was not fair.”
You tilted your head, feigning innocence. The thrill of playing with him was too exciting. “Oh? Is that someone calling me I hear? Gotta fly!”
A muscle feathered in Jiyong’s jaw. His fingers twitched at his sides. “If you leave me like this,” he warned, “you won’t like it later.”
You form a smile so syrupy sweet and entirely unrepentant, almost knowing–wanting whatever his implication was. “Try me. See ya!”
The door closed quickly, you were gone as slyly as you had slipped in, slipping through the exit before he could touch you, before he could ensnare you in whatever delicious retribution he’s concocting.
The next scene of the music video did not require you, so you lingered at the sidelines, engaged in casual conversation with one of the male backup dancers. You could barely register the words exchanged; your mind was elsewhere, thrumming with ideas of the aftermath of your own reckless provocation, what Jiyong could possibly have in store for you. But you felt it. That weight. That heat.
Jiyong was watching you intensely. Between takes, in the in-between moments where no one else seemed to notice, his gaze burned into you, unwavering, silent. No one paid mind to it—how? How did no one see the way he was plotting? The way his fingers curled, the way his jaw tensed, the barely leashed possession tightening his frame like a bowstring drawn taut?
Your lips curled into a smirk, you wanted to push him further. You let out a laugh, just a fraction too bright. A smile, just a smidge too wide. Subtle, but devastating in effect. You could feel the restraint in him thinning, fraying at the edges.
When the recording of the scene concluded the moment the director called it a wrap, Jiyong crossed the space in an instant, sliding into your conversation effortlessly. “Hey, what’s up?” His voice outwardly is casual, composed, but beneath it, there is something else. Something risqué.
The dancer replied excitingly, oblivious to what was brewing within him, but you know. This was no longer just Jiyong standing before you. This was G-Dragon—calculated and possessive, a predator disguising his hunger for his prey beneath a smooth smile.
He manufactured an excuse for the dancer to leave you both alone—something professional, something convincing—and the dancer nodded, bidding you farewell. When he turned away, Jiyong’s expression held no difference, but his eyes—his eyes—seared into you with quiet, lethal intent.
That look. That look he gave you could pin you to the wall.
You were in for it.
The director had called your name amongst several others as the few that were permitted to leave whenever, as the filming of your portion in the music video had come to a close. You could already feel the anticipation coiling in your stomach when you pressed a chaste kiss to Jiyong’s lips in farewell. But just as you were about to pull away, you felt him grasp the back of your neck, his grip somehow simultaneously rough and gentle, and his voice dropped an octave, brushing seductively against the shell of your ear.
“If I see you in ant items of clothing when I get home,” he purred, “it will be ripped apart. I’ll buy replacements.”
Your breath faltered. A slow, ever so consuming heat licked up your spine.
You were utterly speechless, nodding mildly as he released you. His voice returned to normal, saccharine and adoring, “See you when I get home!”
The wait for Jiyong to be released from filming was antagonising. To look at him, anyone would be none the wiser, but you and your incessant teasing in that dressing room would not budge from his mind, he wanted to get home to you now. By the time he had finally gotten the green light to exit from the set, he was gone in an instant, the sleek hum of his car tearing through the night while probably exceeding the speed limit, each second stretching unbearably.
When he arrived home the air inside was thick with steam, curling from beneath the bathroom door in lazy tendrils, the scent of your body wash saturating the air—warm, floral, excruciatingly familiar. It clung to the walls, his skin, to the very oxygen he breathed, and to him, it was a siren’s call.
His body had moved before his mind could even form a thought, like a hunter drawn to the scent of his prey. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the sound nearly swallowed by the hiss of cascading water. The mist parted just enough to reveal the blurred outline of your form behind the glass, glistening with rivulets of heat, every curve softened by the fog.
You heard no sign of his entry at first. You were enraptured and enveloped by the sanctuary of warmth, head tipped back, water cascading down the arch of your throat, tracing the valleys and peaks of your body in a way that sparked something deeply, primally possessive within him.
The fabric of his shirt slid from his shoulders, pooling forgotten at his feet. His belt clinked as it unfastened, an abandoned artifact of his haste. By the time the glass door swung open, he was already reaching his hands, strong, deliberate, searing against the contrast of your wet skin.
A gasp, barely formed, cut off as he pulled you to him, as the heat of his body collided with yours, as his fingers splay against your back, branding you with the urgency of his need.
"Jiyong—"
But the sound of his name was swallowed between you, lost in the way his lips find the curve of your shoulder, in the way his breath scorches against damp skin. The water does little to cool the fever beneath his touch. If anything, it made the heat worse—the slickness, the slip of skin against skin, the sheer, devastating intimacy of it.
His hands tightened on the backside of your thighs and lifted with no sign of struggle. The world tilted, and suddenly, you were weightless, legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. A strangled laugh escaped you, breathless, unsteady.
"You’re insane," you whispered, but your arms were already winding around his neck, fingers threading through wet strands of hair, clinging like you never intended to let go.
A low hum vibrated against your throat, the sound edging on something dangerous, something darkly amused. "You think this is insane?" he responded, lips ghosting over your pulse, the warmth of his breath sending shivers cascading down your spine.
Unexpectedly, with agonizing precision, he unwound the tie from the costume that had lured you in the first place from around his wrist—you had not even realized that he had brought it home with him. Silky cotton glided over your skin, a whisper of constraint, looping around your wrists before you can react. His grip tightened, the smooth fabric cinching just enough to send fire licking down to your core.
Let’s just say, revenge was sweet.
After the storm had passed, Jiyong was back to Jiyong—softer, reverent, loving. The fire that once raged in his eyes has dimmed to embers, but those embers glow just as fiercely, tempered by something deeper, something achingly tender.
It was safe to say you were full of hazy bliss–you had barely registered the way he carried you from the shared bathroom, you barely felt the press of the towel he wrapped it around your shoulders and down your body to dry you from any remnants of water. His hands were careful, patient, you were something porcelain, delicate, something to be cherished.
He tucked you against his chest, murmuring endearments, fingers carding through your damp hair. “Are you okay?” his voice was a soothing balm as he kissed your forehead.
You nodded still dazed and fading in and out of sleep. He pressed a kiss there once more. “Good.”
Jiyong smiled, padding off to make you something warm. When he returned, he settled you onto the lounge, pressing a mug into your hands before curling up beside you and turning on a show the both of you were currently binging.
Sensing a shift in atmosphere, both of the cats moved with feline intuition, their small bodies unfurling from the corners of the couch to slink into your laps. Their weight settled cozily against you, their purring was a steady, grounding, and rhythmic hum—like the soft, pulsing undercurrent of a lullaby. One nuzzled against Jiyong’s arm, its whiskers brushed against his black sleeve, but he held no reaction, odd. The other circled your legs, kneading tiny paws into the fabric of the blanket, but your focus was elsewhere.
Something was wrong.
You felt it before you saw it. In the way his chest rose and fell—just slightly uneven, the rhythm betraying the stillness of the moment. In the way his fingers traced the rim of his cup without taking a sip. In the way his gaze lingered—not on the screen, not on the cats, not on his drink, but on you. Then, just as quickly, it flickered away.
It was so subtle, so infinitesimal a shift, but you knew him. You knew him in the marrow of your bones, in the blood that rushed hot beneath your skin.
"Ji?"
His name was a quiet call, spoken into the hush between the chatter of the television and the purring against your lap. It drifted toward him, catching on the edges of his hesitance, but he remained silent.
Your brows knitted together. Without breaking your gaze, you shifted closer, the blanket rustling as you pressed a hand to his chest—right over his heart. The beat was there, steady, but something about it felt caged. As if his body contained a rumbling too soft to break the surface, but strong enough to shake the foundation beneath.
"Are you okay, baby?"
Another pause. Then, his voice—low, hesitant. “Yeah.”
You absolutely did not believe him.
Your lips pressed together, your fingers spreading slightly over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the quiet thrum of him beneath. “Kwon Jiyong,” you scolded, holding no anger, just certainty, “please don’t lie to me.”
A slow exhale was released. A surrender.
“It’s stupid.”
You tilted your head, unwavering. “Tell me?”
A moment passed—a battle behind his eyes, a flicker of resistance, then resignation. His throat worked around the words, and when they finally came, they were softer than you expected.
“You don’t like that guy, right?”
You blinked, confused. The weight of the question was heavier than it was phrased, settling into the space between you like a stone that was dropped into a still pond.
“What guy do you mean?”
“The dancer. While I was still filming.”
For a moment, you do not speak. Your heart twisted—not in shock, not in indignation, but in something achingly tender, something fragile and utterly human. Because this was him. G-Dragon, global phenomenon, artistic genius, the man adored by millions—yet here he sat, Kwon Jiyong in his rawest, purest form, allowing something as fleeting as a passing conversation to plant a seed of doubt in his mind.
You shifted again, this time cupping his face between your hands, guiding him to you. The edges of his cheekbones fitted perfectly beneath your caring thumbs, the warmth of his skin seeping into your palms. He made no move to pull away. If anything, he leant into your touch, lashes lowering just slightly, as if bracing for impact.
“Ji,” you whispered, voice thick with care and assurance, “I am yours.” Your thumbs trace slow shapes over his skin, anchoring him to your voice. “No one else. No one could ever be as perfect for me as you are. As if I would ever let them try.”
His lips parted slightly, but no words came. Instead, his eyes searched yours, as if sifting through the syllables for any fracture, any hesitation. He found not a single one.
And then a breath, a shift. Something in him released, like the quiet collapse of tension, like a knot unspooling. His lips curved—small, a little sheepish, but real. “I love you.”
Soft kisses followed—affectionate, passionate, sweet. He pressed them over your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your hands, like he was pouring every single ounce of love he could possibly hold in his soul for you into each one. When the night ended, neither of you had made it to your bedroom, instead you drifted to a deep slumber still intertwined on that lounge, the warmth of your love wrapping you both in something safer than any blanket ever could.
thanks for reading!! :)
taglist: @petersasteria @floofeh-purpi
#bigbang x reader#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#bigbang#gdragon#kwon jiyong#kpop#fanfic#g dragon#kpop fanfic#emmiesoverthemoon#gdragon fanfic#kwon jiyong fanfic#jiyong x reader#ubermensch#too bad mv
277 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii it's me again lol about the g dragon, can i request something like kwon jiyong x idol reader, reader is younger than him (OF COURSE LEGAL AGE HAHA), she's a soloist or in a girl group (you decide 🥰) when bigbang performed in the mama awards just last year so iconic lol, after they performed they have to sit with other artists, he purposely planned talked to some staffs to make his and her group sit together, and they have some moments that the fans caught on and yes HAHAHA you continue BUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT, idk if you could understand it 😔😔😔 i dont know to explain this properly lol
Exposed || Kwon Jiyong



Pairing: Idol Jiyong X Idol Reader Genre: Fluff Summary: Jiyong and Y/N, a idol from a popular girl group, have been secretly dating. However, their relationship starts sparking rumors after several accidental (and not-so-accidental) moments at the MAMA Awards. A.N: Please let me know if you guys want a part 2 continuation of this story
Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts, comments and don't forget to follow for more stories like this—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys 💖💖 And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups M.list
The night was electric. BIGBANG had just finished their performance, a stage that would be talked about for years. The energy was still buzzing in the air as the members walked off, their breathing still heavy from the adrenaline. And from his place on stage, Jiyong had already located you.
Your group had been watching from the front rows, standing, clapping, and cheering along with the other artists. But unlike the rest, you felt the heat of his gaze.
You knew you had to play it cool. You kept your eyes forward, lips pressed together in the perfect image of a professional junior idol. But when he bowed, when he let his eyes flicker to yours for half a second longer than necessary, you felt your pulse quicken.
It wasn’t over.
Because when it came time for seating arrangements, suddenly, your group was ushered toward BIGBANG’s section.
Your leader glanced at the staff in confusion. “Oh, we’re sitting here?”
A staff member just nodded, completely unaware of the tension brewing beneath the surface. Or maybe they did know. After all, Jiyong had made sure of it.
As you sat down, your assigned seat just happened to be diagonal from his. Close enough for accidental touches. Close enough for subtle games.
And Jiyong? Oh, he was enjoying himself.
The first time your knees brushed, you thought it was an accident. The seating was cramped, and idols were squeezed together with barely any space to move.
But then it happened again.
This time, he pressed his knee deliberately against yours.
You didn’t react. You kept your posture perfect, eyes locked on the stage. But your fingers curled slightly in your lap.
And that was exactly what he wanted.
Jiyong chuckled under his breath, low enough that only you could hear.
"You're good at this," he murmured, barely moving his lips.
You exhaled slowly, keeping your eyes on the performance. "At what?"
"At pretending like I’m not here," he mused. Then, leaning slightly closer, he added, "But I know you feel it."
Your breath hitched. The warmth of his leg against yours, the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine—you hated how easily he affected you.
But two could play this game.
So, without missing a beat, you pressed your knee back against his.
And that was the moment his smirk faltered.
Sometime during the award announcements, a staff member brought bottled water to each table. You twisted open your cap, taking a small sip—only to nearly choke when Jiyong’s ringed fingers casually reached forward, stealing your bottle.
Before you could react, he took a slow sip, completely unbothered.
Your eyes widened, but he merely wiped the corner of his lips with his thumb, setting the bottle back down in front of you.
"Yah," you whispered, shooting him a glare.
"Problem?" he asked innocently, tilting his head.
You scoffed, reaching for another bottle, but before you could, he leaned over and slid the original bottle back toward you.
His voice was barely above a whisper. "Just drink from mine."
Your stomach flipped. You hated that he was enjoying this.
And you hated even more that you took the bottle and drank from it.
It started as something harmless. Just a quick glance in his direction.
But you didn’t realize the camera had zoomed in on you.
At that exact moment, Jiyong, ever the instigator, tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm only you recognized—a song he’d written for you.
Your lips parted slightly in surprise. He noticed.
And before you could stop it—before you could school your expression into something neutral—your lips curled up in the tiniest smile.
And the fans caught everything.
The camera cut away almost instantly, but not fast enough.
Twitter exploded.
"WHY DID Y/N JUST SMILE OUT OF NOWHERE WHEN GD WAS TAPPING THE TABLE HELPPP"
"WHAT WAS HE TAPPING?? HELLO CODEBREAKERS??"
"Y/N SMILING AFTER GD LOOKED HER WAY... Y'ALL WE'VE SEEN THIS BEFORE 👀"
"GD took HER bottle?? And she didn’t even react?? Oh nah they are not slick."
And then—dispatch dropped a clip.
A grainy, fan-taken video from the upper seats of the arena. The footage was shaky, but clear enough to show:
Jiyong passing your group a drink, but ONLY handing it to you.
The knee touch under the table.
Your stolen glance. Your tiny, traitorous smile.
It was subtle. Barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking.
But the fans? They saw everything.
The awards continued, but you barely registered the winners.
Because Jiyong wasn’t done.
His fingers drummed against the table again. This time, the rhythm wasn’t a song. It was a message.
T-A-L-K T-O M-E
You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly.
Jiyong grinned. He saw that.
Then, the absolute menace that he was, he raised a brow and mouthed, "Scared?"
You nearly scoffed. Oh, he wanted to play? Fine.
You leaned in slightly, just enough for only him to hear.
"Oppa," you murmured, voice sweet but laced with warning. "Behave."
The effect was immediate.
Jiyong’s smirk twitched, his fingers freezing for just a second—because he liked it when you called him that. And you knew it.
His hand curled into a loose fist on the table, jaw tightening for a moment before he exhaled and shot you a half-lidded gaze.
"That’s unfair," he murmured back, voice husky.
You bit back a smirk.
You knew Jiyong was watching.
You felt it.
The moment your group took the stage, the energy in the arena shifted—louder screams, flashing lights, and a certain someone sitting comfortably in the artist section, front row, with that signature smirk.
At first, he was composed—just nodding to the beat, sunglasses perfectly in place.
But then?
Then came your part.
The camera panned to him just as you stepped forward for your solo.
The moment your hips rolled, your gaze sharp and commanding—
Jiyong?
Gone.
The man leaned forward, elbows on his knees, sunglasses sliding down his nose as he openly stared.
The live audience noticed instantly.
"HE'S STARING. HE IS NOT EVEN HIDING IT."
"DID Y'ALL SEE HIS SMIRK WHEN Y/N DID HER PART? EXCUSE ME????"
"THIS IS NOT EVEN A FANBOY REACTION. THAT'S A MAN ADMIRING HIS WOMAN."
It got worse when you locked eyes with him for half a second.
Jiyong?
Smirked.
The type of smirk that said, "You know exactly what you're doing, jagiya."
The camera caught it all.
And just when people thought it couldn’t get any more insane—
Mid-performance, a cameraman—who deserves a RAISE—zoomed in on Jiyong again.
This time?
The man was biting his lip.
"JAIL. JAIL FOR THIS MAN."
"Y/N NEEDS TO PAY FOR MY THERAPY BECAUSE HER PERFORMANCE GOT GD LIKE THAT."
"HE'S SO OBVIOUS IT'S EMBARRASSING PLEASE."
You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.
Jiyong?
Still shameless.
By the time your performance ended, he was back to normal, clapping like nothing happened.
But when you walked back to your seat—next to him—he leaned over and whispered:
"You almost killed me up there, sweetheart."
You gritted your teeth. "Serves you right."
He chuckled, voice dangerously low.
"Just wait till later."
Your breath hitched.
And just like that—the night wasn’t over yet.
At the very end of the night, artists were standing, clapping, saying their goodbyes.
Jiyong was walking ahead with the BIGBANG members when, for just a second, he glanced over his shoulder at you.
And you looked back.
The moment lasted only a second, but someone caught it on camera.
A single, slow-motion GIF.
Jiyong turning his head, looking back at you.
Your eyes meeting his.
That split-second smirk before he faced forward again.
Twitter? In flames.
"HE LOOKED BACK. HE LOOKED BACK. OH MY GOD HE LOOKED BACK."
"That was NOT a casual glance. That was a ‘meet me later’ look."
"THE SMIRK. I CAN’T BREATHE."
"They think they’re being sneaky. THEY ARE NOT."
Later That Night…
Your phone buzzed.
Jiyong: So, when are we announcing the wedding?
You: Jiyong-ah.
Jiyong: Yes, my love?
You: I’m going to kill you.
Jiyong: But you’ll miss me too much, won’t you?
YOU: You did that on purpose right?
Jiyong: Of course I did. How else will they know you’re mine?
You: WE ARE NOT GETTING CAUGHT.
Jiyong: Sweetheart, we’ve already been caught.
Jiyong: You looked unreal tonight.
You: You made it OBVIOUS.
Jiyong: You make it hard to behave, jagiya.
You: STOP.
Jiyong: Make me. 😏
You groaned, flopping onto your bed. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.
And the actual worst part?
You liked it.
It started as fan theories.
A harmless coincidence.
But by the time the MAMA afterparty ended, it had escalated into a full-blown scandal.
TRENDING ON TWITTER
#GDxY/N #Y/N_LuckyGirl #GDRAGON_LostHisCool
THE CLUES THAT STARTED IT ALL:
The Seating Arrangement Scandal
Why was your group suddenly seated next to BigBang when it wasn’t in the original floor plan? 🤨
Fans dug up footage of Jiyong talking to staff before the show.
"HE PLANNED IT. THIS MAN WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO SIT NEXT TO HER."
Jiyong’s Reactions = A Man Down BAD
The lip bite. The smirk. The unholy stare.
"We’ve seen GD fanboy before, but this? This is different."
"He was watching like he already KNEW how that dress looked up close." 😭😭
The Afterparty Coincidence
You and Jiyong left around the same time.
Different cars, but same direction.
Fans noticed your manager looking stressed while BigBang’s team tried to be low-key.
"They didn’t even try to stagger their exits. HELP."
The Matching Accessories Debacle
The next day, Jiyong posted an Instagram story.
A hand, casually holding a glass of wine.
A familiar ring on his finger—the same one you were seen wearing months ago.
"SO WEARING COUPLE RINGS IS JUST A THING NOW? OKAY."
THE COMPANY RESPONSES = SUSPICIOUS AF
Your Agency:
"Y/N and G-Dragon are just industry colleagues. The seating was arranged by MAMA organizers."
YG Entertainment:
"We do not comment on our artists' personal lives."
TRANSLATION: "We're not denying it."
"YG NOT EVEN TRYING TO LIE LMFAO."
"If they weren’t dating, they’d have shut this down IMMEDIATELY. Oh, they’re so caught."
"Just drop the wedding invitation at this point."
After days of speculation, Jiyong did what he does best—
Trolled everyone.
NEW IG POST: A selfie. Smirking. Caption?
"I love MAMA."
THAT’S. IT.
"HE'S PLAYING WITH US HELP."
"SIR JUST CONFIRM IT OR DENY IT. DON’T TEASE US LIKE THIS."
"This man enjoys chaos too much I can’t."
THE INTERNET STILL HASN’T RECOVERED.
And neither have you. 😭🔥
If people weren’t sure before—
Now?
They were certain.
All thanks to one tiny, completely avoidable mistake.
NEW IG POST: Y/N’s Group Behind-The-Scenes Photos!
Your group’s official account posted casual snapshots from rehearsals, practice rooms, and random candid moments from recent schedules.
Harmless, right?
Wrong.
Because eagle-eyed fans noticed something immediately.
THE CLUE THAT BROKE THE INTERNET:
In one mirror selfie, you were holding your phone in the corner.
Reflected in the mirror? A very familiar-looking silver bracelet.
The exact same bracelet Jiyong had been wearing for years.
FAN REACTIONS = PURE CHAOS
"I NEED EVERYONE TO ZOOM IN RIGHT NOW."
"THAT. THAT IS GD’S BRACELET. THAT MAN DOESN’T TAKE IT OFF."
"SO SHE WAS WITH HIM? OR…???"
"Not them getting caught by a MIRROR REFLECTION."
Hours after the bracelet debacle, Jiyong—being Jiyong—made everything worse.
NEW IG POST: A Random Aesthetic Shot
A simple photo of his hand, resting casually on a table.
Except…
The bracelet was front and center.
The background? Suspiciously similar to a place you had visited just days ago.
Caption?
"Good things should be kept close." 😏
FAN REACTIONS = ABSOLUTE CHAOS
"SIR. SIR, THIS IS NOT SUBTLE."
"ARE THEY EVEN HIDING ANYMORE??"
"Y/N POST THE MATCHING PHOTO OR WE RIOT."
"I feel like we’re getting a dating confirmation in 3…2…1."
Chats:
You: Jiyong. YOU. NEED. TO. STOP. 😡
Jiyong: Stop what?
You: YOU KNOW WHAT.
Jiyong: I just like my bracelet. 🤷
You: I WILL THROW THAT BRACELET INTO THE OCEAN.
Jiyong: Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t dive in after it.
You: I AM BLOCKING YOU.
Jiyong: Again? Cute. 😘
One week later, just when the rumors started to die down—
Jiyong did something so reckless that even your company gave up.
NEW IG STORY: A simple photo of his hand intertwined with someone else’s.
The angle? Purposely vague.
But the bracelet?
Still there.
And the nail polish color on the other hand?
The exact same shade you had worn the day before.
Caption?
"Some things don’t need to be explained."
INSTANT WORLDWIDE MELTDOWN.
OFFICIAL STATEMENT FROM BOTH AGENCIES:
"We ask fans to respect our artists’ personal lives."
TRANSLATION: "Yeah, they’re dating. We’re tired. Leave us alone."
THE INTERNET GOES INSANE
"AFTER ALL THAT TEASING, WE FINALLY HAVE CONFIRMATION???"
"GD REALLY SAID SOFT LAUNCH THEN HARD LAUNCH LMAO."
"Y/N YOU ARE THE LUCKIEST WOMAN ALIVE."
"MAMA 2024 BETTER HAVE A COUPLE SEAT ARRANGEMENT READY."
You: Are you happy now?? 😩
Jiyong: Very. 😌
You: You're insufferable.
Jiyong: You love me, though. 😘
You: …Shut up.
Jiyong: Make me. 😏
#fanfic#headcannons#kpop#kpop bg#kpop fandom#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop smut#gdragon#bigbang#kwon jiyong#kpop x oc#kpop x you#kpop x reader#kpopidol#kpop boys#idol x reader#kpop idols#bigbang x reader#gdragon x reader#kpop x y/n#g dragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#jiyong x reader
546 notes
·
View notes
Text
i need to get him pregnant…
#gdragon#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong#kwon jiyong x reader#2nd gen kpop#kpop#bigbang#king of kpop#wow#need him
26 notes
·
View notes
Text







Jun 13th . 2025
@ 8lo8lo8lowme on instagram
#bigbang#gdragon#kwon jiyong#übermensch#g dragon#jiyong#jiyongie#kpop#bigbang gdragon#bigbang kpop#bigbang ot4#bigbang x reader#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong x reader#jiyong x reader
44 notes
·
View notes
Text


Jiyong vs Gdragon
warnings: smut, some foul language.
═════════════════════
jiyong tucks his face in your neck when you cuddle.
jiyong kisses the back of your hand every chance he gets.
jiyong buys you an expensive gift every time he sees you.
jiyong will buy you matching outfits so him and his girl can be stylish together.
jiyong that empties out half his closet for you.
jiyong that clings to you like a needy child.
jiyong peppers your face with soft kisses every morning.
jiyong gifts you a matching chanel ring.
————————————————————————
Gdragon eats you out for hours on end, addicted to the way you feel and taste.
Gdragon that holds your hands over your head while fucking into you at an ungodly pace.
Gdragon that teases you, asking where you need him most and makes you beg for him to slide into you.
Gdragon that buys you expensive lingerie, just to rip it off of you hours later.
Gdragon makes sure to wear his rings while fingering you, cause he knows you love the way the cold metal feels.
Gdragon that loves when you’re on top, clinging onto his chest while getting yourself off.
Gdragon who lets you ride his thigh while he’s making music, because you’re too impatient to wait for him to finish.
═════════════════════
A/n: this kinda sucks i wrote this in the car lol hope u enjoy
549 notes
·
View notes
Text
15 minutes ✩ kwon jiyong



kind of inspired by sabrina carpenter’s “15 minutes.” (or maybe i just couldn't think of a title)
“i can do a lot with fifteen minutes, only gonna take two to make you finish.”
warnings: 18+, smut. + not proofread
a/n: sorry for not posting all week 😭 i had so many big assignments due this week that i procrastinated… i also have so many wips that i’m trying to finish so hopefully more coming soon !!
anyways, these photos were literally my inspiration to write. he looks so good
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
you watched as your boyfriend got ready for his event. he was stood in front of the mirror, tousling his hair and trying to get it perfect for what seemed like forever. you were sat in bed, watching him, wearing only his t-shirt and some underwear - a reminder from last night. jiyong met your eyes through the mirror. “don’t give me that look, jagiya.”
you sat up a little straighter in bed, covering your bare legs with the bedsheets. “hm? what look?”
jiyong turned around to face you, giving you a knowing smile. “like you’re trying to undress me. i have to leave soon.”
“how soon?”
he checked his watch, “fifteen minutes.”
you smiled and beckoned him over. “that’s enough time for me.”
jiyong shook his head with a smile, but walked over to you, sitting down on the bed next to you. you pulled him in closer, running a hand through his hair.
“baby, i just spent half an hour getting my hair perfect.”
you leaned in closer, just barely brushing your lips to his, whispering, “i’ll fix it for you later. don’t you want me right now?”
that was enough to break jiyong.
he pushed you down onto the bed, kissing you roughly. his hand slipped into your underwear, making you gasp as his cold fingers touched your warm and already wet folds. he smirked at your reaction, slipping two fingers into you and using his thumb to rub your clit simultaneously. you moaned at his touch, arching your back in an attempt to feel him closer to you. jiyong removed his hand from your underwear, instead trailing it up your body, his hands roaming under your bare shirt.
you took the opportunity to roll him over, pushing him down onto the bed, climbing onto his lap, and straddling him, before connecting your lips with his. jiyong kissed you back, passionately and yearningly, like he was trying to soak up every fiber of your being. you smirked into the kiss, loving how needy he could get so quickly. you moved your hips against his lap, the friction making you moan against his lips and tangle your fist in his hair. jiyong groaned as you tugged on his hair and his hands made their way to your hips, trying to pull you in closer to him - if that was even possible.
you began to undo his belt, and jiyong lifted his hips up slightly to tug his pants down just enough, as you threw your underwear on the bedroom floor. you aligned yourself with his length, rubbing it across your wet folds a couple of times, before sinking down onto him.
jiyong stifled a moan, his breath shuddering, as you sank deeper onto him. he rested his hands on your hips, pulling you in as close to him as he possibly could, your foreheads pressing together. you rested one hand on the back of his neck, trying to keep him close, and the other on the headboard for stability as you began moving up and down.
you stayed close to him, foreheads pressed together, letting your body heat and breathy moans consume each other. as you continued to move, you threw your head back a bit, to which jiyong took the opportunity to kiss your neck, while one hand moved up under your shirt. your rhythms were synchronized, your lips connecting as you swallowed each other's moans and soft, dirty phrases whispered.
you felt yourself getting closer, your hand moving from the headboard to jiyong's shoulder for stability, your fingers digging into his skin. jiyong knew what that meant, murmuring, "come for me, baby." with a couple more messy movements and jiyong helping guide your hips up and down, you felt yourself unravel, shaking into jiyong's chest. you pulled him closer to you, hands wrapping around his neck, as he continued thrusting up into you, chasing his own pleasure.
every movement was overstimulating, painfully pleasureful. you whined into jiyong's ear, still holding onto him, as his movements got faster. "'m close, baby..." he murmured. "be patient for me." you could only provide a small gasp in response, as his pace quickened. two more sloppy movements, and you felt jiyong spilling into you, shaking slightly as he slowed down and held you.
his hands slipped under your shirt to trace small, loving circles on your back. after a couple minutes, he helped you off of him, laying you down softly on the bed and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i'll be right back."
he went into the bathroom, returning a couple of minutes later, looking as if nothing had happened, except for his disheveled hair. he held a towel in his hand and gently cleaned you up, before sitting down in bed next to you again, pulling you close to him.
"now i don't want to go to this event." he mumbled.
you laughed, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "you're gonna have fun."
"i'll miss you," jiyong murmured, as if he was going to be gone for eternity.
"you're so dramatic," you smiled, sitting up a bit and cupping his face. "but i'll miss you too."
you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down a bit. "you look really good."
jiyong groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. "i really don't want to go."
you smiled, pulling him away to press a kiss to his lips. "go. have fun. i don't want you to be late."
jiyong gave you another look, one that said i really don't want to leave you, but you beckoned him to go. as he left, he kissed the top of your head, "be ready when i come home."
#bigbang#bigbang fic#bigbang x reader#gdragon#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong#kwon jiyong x reader#jiyong#jiyong x reader#g dragon#g dragon x reader
402 notes
·
View notes