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steponupbabe · 2 days ago

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Track 05: The first kiss.

Pairing: 2000s!Kwon jiyong x Fem!reader.

Warnings: some confusion, jiyong being a lil stupid, y/n stressing over jiyong being stupid, awkward first kiss.

Summary: it had been a week since jiyong confessed to you, but you can’t seem to understand why he hasn’t popped that question yet.

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It had been a week since jiyong had given you the CD. a week since you had listened to Track 05, a week since he confessed he had feelings for you, a week since your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest. you both never addressed what you were— because jiyong was already acting like your boyfriend. it was in the way he treated you.

Yes, jiyong always treated you like more than what you two really were, but it was different now. holding hands became more common, picking you up and dropping you off after school, waiting for the other at their lockers, buying you small little things and acting like it was no big deal because “he just thought of you.” or he “knew you’d like it.” staying up late on the phone like nothing else in the world mattered.

He even started to kiss your cheeks and forehead— more than what he used to anyway. but you couldn’t understand why he hasn’t asked you that question. you kept waiting and waiting but it never came.

So you decided to do what you do best, take matters into your own hands. you had slipped a pink post it into his locker, you kept it short and simple,

( meet me at the playground after school, 5:00 o’clock. x y/n.)

↢ ❦ ↣

You sat on the swings, Hair tied in a messy braid, Your summer dress flowing just slightly do to the summer breeze, White converse grazing the floor as you slowly pushed the swing back and forth, And your stomach fluttering as you waited for jiyong to arrive. You don’t even know what you were going to say.

“Jiyong why haven’t you asked me to be your girlfriend yet? Did you change your mind? Did i do something?”

No, thats too much. Too desperate. You were trying to have a conversation, Not bombard him.

“Yo you wanna be my boyfriend or what?”

Yo? What are you thinking? Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should just wait for him to say something—

“Hey, what’s the matter? You look like your brain just hit a 404 error.” You were snapped out of your thoughts as Jiyong sat on the swing right next to you. “Oh uhm, nothing just school.” He lifted a brow in confusion, smiling softly. “Oh…kay.” He said not fully believing you. It was silent for a while. Not the comfortable silence, No, The silence that made you want to jump off a cliff. Why did you even ask him to meet you here if you had no idea what you were going to say? Maybe it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.

Jiyong decides to break the god awful silence, he could tell there was something wrong, He always knew. He knew you better than he knew Himself, what were you hiding?

“Y/n? can you just tell me what’s wrong? there obviously is, or you wouldn’t be staring at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing invented since the cellphone.” You sighed as he spoke, You didn’t even know how to start the conversation, But you also couldn’t stay quite any longer either. “It’s just..” you sighed as you try to gather your words together. “You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend yet, ji. You gave me that CD a week ago, i don’t know i just.. i thought you would’ve asked me by now. Did i do something wrong? am i giving mixed singnals or something? i just—“

Your rambling was cut off by Jiyongs laughter, Was he Giggling? Why was he giggling? “Y/n, I didn’t know i had to ask, I thought you already were my girlfriend.” He says while smiling at your confused state, placing his hand on yours, trying to calm you down. Your brain scrambled at his words, you furrowed your brows in confusion. “W- what? you thought we were already dating?” you ask, genuinely confused. He smiles again, softer this time.

“Well yeah, i thought the moment you came to me and told me about it we were. I’m sorry for confusing you but i didn’t know i had to ask. Also i doubt all the things i’ve been doing this past week have been very friendly.” He adds, laughing softly as you look down at the ground blushing. “In my defense, You always act like that ji. how am i supposed to tell the difference.” you say playfully, looking at him.

He scratches the back of his neck, ears turning slightly pink at your words. “Yeah, i guess you’re right. I’m sorry. i really am, i didn’t mean to confuse you, But! I’ll do it right this time.” He says getting up from his spot from the swing to kneel in front of you “Y/n l/n, would you be my girlfriend?” You giggle at The boy in front of you, stepping off the swing to pull him up from his spot on the ground. “Yes, you idiot. I’ll happily be your girlfriend.” You laugh as Jiyong stands in front of you.

Jiyong stepped closer to you now, Eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. Your breath hitched as you feel his breath hit your cheek. your eyes fell to his lips, your heart beating what feels like a million miles per second. His hands find their way to your waist.

“Can.., can i kiss you?” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, Smiling and nodding your head. “Yes, please.” He closes the not very small space between you two without another word, Lips colliding with his. your hands found their way to his chest as you kissed him back, soft and slow.

It wasn’t perfect. He kissed a little crooked. You bumped teeth once. You laughed into his mouth. But it was real. And warm. And him. When he finally pulled back, his smile was lopsided and shy and ridiculously proud. He placed his forehead on yours and sighed.

you both stood there for a second before you pulled away slightly to look at him, breaking the silence. “You know i don’t think we did that right,” you said as he looked at you a little confused. “Huh? I thought it was fine.” you giggled “No, i think we should do it one more time. just to be safe” he smiles at your words. “Huh, you’re right.” he says leaning in, pressing his lips to yours.

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A/n: yayyyyy part two!!! hope u guys enjoyed y/n and jiyongs first kiss as a couple heheh 🤭🩷

taglist: @stormin9 @lowkeyylaura @moontabi @thanosspills

#bigbang #kwon jiyong #gdragon #gdragon bigbang #kwon jiyong x reader #jiyong #jiyong x reader #2000s! jiyong #2000s #first kiss #kwon jiyong fluff #fluff #part two

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jiyongsangel · 20 hours ago

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Mornings with Kwon Jiyong, headcannons (G-Dragon)

Summary: headcannons on my take of what Jiyong would be like in the mornings

Warnings: some nsfw

A/n: I wrote this for my new tumblr friend @emmyf1 !! Hope yall enjoy it

♡︎ Definitely cuddles you all night so it’s a given you will wake up with him clinging to you.

♡︎ Usually he’s big spoon but sometimes he’ll want to be little spoon and you don’t mind that

♡︎ He usually has to be up early for his schedule however he leaves it until the very last minute to get up because he wants to stay in bed with you as long as he can.

♡︎ When he does get up he’ll gently wake you up usually with a forehead kiss so he gets the chance to say goodbye to you

♡︎ But when he doesn’t have his schedule.. trust me it’s a nightmare to get him out of bed.

ׂ╰┈➤

“Ji we have to get up” you said while trying to get out of his embrace.

You’re not successful though because he’ll just pull you straight back. “No Jagi 5 more minutes.” He says nuzzling his face into your hair.

He’d been saying that for the past hour.

♡︎ When you’re both awake but just laying together he’ll snuggle up really close to you and just gently pepper your neck and jaw with soft kisses while you bask in eachothers warmth.

♡︎ He will definitely tease you and your bed head.

ׂ╰┈➤

“You look so cute with your hair all messed up.” He’ll say between giggles.

You rolled your eyes going to reach for a hairbrush but not before he gets you in a playful headlock and ruffles your hair up even more.

“Nuh uh you’re not brushing it yet you look too cute.” He says while you try and wriggle out of his grip but he’s too strong.

♡︎ God forbid he wakes up before you. Luckily this is usually uncommon but if he does.. he will take so many photos of you passed out hard and send it to the group chat with the boys in.

♡︎ He loves watching you sleep, you look so cute snuggled up in one of his hoodies sleeping so peacefully. He will genuinely sit for ages just watching you and when you wake up he always pretends he wasn’t.

ׂ╰┈➤

“Were you watching me sleep again?” You said smirking.

He will be look away sheepishly pretending he wasn’t “no? Why would I be doing that.”

But the way he turned bright red gave it away.

“Because you’re a creep.” You said jokingly.

Nsfw ✧.*

♡︎ Morning sex is one of Jiyongs favourites, yall usually do it when he has no schedule

♡︎ He loves how gentle and chill it is, he’ll slowly go in and out of you while whispering how much he loves you and everything he loves about you in your ear.

♡︎ His aftercare is on point.

♡︎ he’ll make sure to clean you up by having a hot shower with him.

♡︎ You’ll stand in front of him while he hugs you from behind, kissing all the way down your upper body while hot water and steam envelopes both of you.

♡︎ He’ll dry you up in one of his nicest towels and get you changed into one of his hoodies and you’ll put some underwear on.

♡︎ He’ll make a cheeky remark when he sees all of the marks he made all over your neck, chest and inner thighs.

ׂ╰┈➤

“You look so pretty marked up, everyone will know you’re mine.” He says nipping your neck again leaving one more mark.

♡︎ He makes you breakfast, usually pancakes since they’re simple, but you don’t mind because he makes them so nice.

♡︎ Yall will probably spend his day off cuddling and watching movies together with Zoa and Iye joining you two.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated<3

Taglist: @thanosspills @moontabi @sylviavf @steponupbabe

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loveesiren · 3 months ago

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𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖲𝗒𝗋𝗎𝗉 & 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌

Kwon Jiyong x fem!reader

a/n: BIGBANG APRIL WRITING CHALLENGE I wrote like four different versions of this but I'm glad I challenged myself! So fun :) Shout out to @ldydeath & @wcnderlnds for this fun event <3

prompt: Day 3 - One of them is sick and the other takes care of them

warnings: fluff, Jiyong being a sick baby <3

wc: 3.5k+

The harsh sound of coughing jolted you from sleep, dragging you out of a dream and straight into worry. It wasn’t just a casual throat-clear—it was deep, relentless, painful. You blinked against the faint pre-dawn light spilling through the curtains and reached for your phone on the nightstand. 4:45 a.m.

Your heart sank. He’d probably been up for a while.

You listened for a moment, the wheezing behind the bathroom door growing louder with each ragged breath he took. The sound of his suffering was impossible to ignore. You kicked off the covers and crawled out of bed, padding across the cold floor and toward the door.

You knocked gently, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of concern. “Ji? Are you okay?”

There was a beat of silence, then a muffled reply.

“M’fine…” he rasped, but even that word was shredded by another violent cough that shook through him.

Your chest ached just hearing it.

“Can I come in?”

Silence again. No protest, no permission. That in itself said enough.

You slowly opened the door, heart clenched tight, and found him exactly where you'd feared: hunched over on the edge of the bathtub, his body curled into itself as if he were trying to disappear. His elbows rested on his knees, and his head hung low in his hands. Each breath sounded like it was being dragged unwillingly from his chest, wheezy and raw.

“Baby…” you whispered, crossing the room and kneeling down beside him. “Hey. Look at me.”

You gently lifted his chin, your fingers warm against his clammy skin. His eyes met yours, barely. Bloodshot and glassy, puffy from lack of sleep and probably more than a little crying from the sheer discomfort. His nose was red and runny, his lips cracked and dry. He looked absolutely miserable.

You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, then slid your palm down to his cheek. He was on fire. A soft, worried sound escaped your lips.

“Aish, Jagi…” you murmured. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

He tried to manage a breath. “Didn’t wanna bother you,” he whispered. “Just… need some coffee before work.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. You’re not going anywhere today.”

“But I have meeti—” His protest was cut off by another coughing fit that bent him over, his shoulders heaving with the effort.

You didn’t hesitate. “You’re not working, Jiyong. You’re sick. You need rest.”

He looked like he wanted to argue—but he didn’t have the strength. His head dropped again, this time resting against your shoulder.

“I’ll call your manager,” you said, threading your fingers gently through his hair. “Let him know you need a day off.”

He nodded, barely.

“Come on,” you said softly, reaching your hands out toward him. “Let’s get you in the shower. The steam will help.”

He blinked up at you, clearly torn. “I don’t wanna get you sick…”

You smiled, heart aching at how he still tried to protect you, even now. “Hush. Let me take care of you. Please.”

He hesitated, but then slowly reached for your hands, his fingers trembling as they laced with yours. You guided him to his feet carefully, steadying him when he swayed slightly.

“Feel dizzy…” he mumbled, voice thin and strained.

“I know, baby,” you whispered, holding him steady with one hand while you reached forward to turn on the shower with the other. You gave it a few moments to warm up before gently helping him out of his shirt. “Just lean on me, okay?”

His skin was feverish under your touch, and he shivered even as the heat from the steam began to rise around you. You guided him carefully under the water, keeping a firm arm around his waist in case his knees gave out.

The moment the warm spray hit his back, he sighed—his muscles, tense and aching, seemed to melt under the water, and he sagged forward, forehead pressing lightly to your shoulder.

You rid yourself of your own clothes before stepping under the stream with him. His arms looped loosely around your waist, and he rested his entire weight against you, his face nuzzling into the curve of your neck like it was the only place he could breathe properly.

You stroked his back slowly, letting the water pour over both of you as the bathroom filled with mist. He was so used to being strong, being “G-Dragon” to the world. But right now, he was just Jiyong—your husband, your person—and he was sick and vulnerable and needed you.

The only sound between you was the steady rhythm of the water and the occasional soft exhale from Jiyong as you moved around him with gentle, practiced hands. You worked the shampoo through his damp hair slowly, your fingers massaging his scalp with care. His long strands clung to your skin and slipped through your fingers like silk as you rinsed, the suds trailing down his neck and over his back.

He leaned into your touch with his eyes closed, the tension in his shoulders gradually softening. His breath hitched slightly when your fingertips skimmed behind his ears, the smallest sound escaping his throat—a low, appreciative moan, more comforted than suggestive. His body was exhausted, too weighed down by fever and fatigue for the kind of fun your showers usually ended with. But that didn’t stop him from savoring every moment of your care.

He thought to himself, This is what I should be doing for her. That’s how your shared showers usually went—he was the one massaging conditioner into your hair, trailing kisses down your spine, whispering love and nonsense alike while the hot water fogged up the mirrors. But not today. Not when his limbs felt like lead and his lungs burned with every breath.

Still, your touch was nothing short of magical. You washed him slowly, with reverence. Your hands moved down his chest, over his ribs, carefully lathering away the sweat and chills from the long, restless night. You placed featherlight kisses against his damp skin—his shoulder, the curve of his neck, just beneath his ear—as if to remind him he wasn’t alone.

He didn’t speak, and neither did you. You didn’t need to. The silence was full of love, of presence, of understanding.

Once you’d rinsed the last of the soap from his body, you stood together beneath the stream of warm water, letting it wash over both of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist again, resting his head against your shoulder, his breaths coming in slower now—less ragged, more grounded. You stayed like that for a while, just holding each other in the quiet.

Eventually, you shifted, running your fingers gently through his soaked hair. “Ready to get out, babe?” you murmured. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He nodded. “Okay.” his voice was so small it tugged painfully at your chest.

You helped him out of the shower carefully, grabbing the fluffiest, most comforting towel you could find and wrapping it around his shoulders like a blanket. He sat back down on the edge of the tub, shivering slightly despite the warmth of the room. The fever had yet to break.

You rummaged through the closet, determined to find something soft and comforting. Your fingers brushed over fabric until you settled on his favorite pair of grey sweatpants and an old, worn Balenciaga hoodie—one that had seen better days but still smelled like home. You handed them to him, then quickly dressed yourself in leggings and an oversized tee.

He moved slowly, almost dazed, and you watched as he tried to tug the hoodie over his head, arms sluggish and uncoordinated. You bit back a frown as he fumbled, then stepped forward.

“Here,” you said softly, taking the fabric from his hands. “Let me help you.”

As you helped him dress, he mumbled, eyes cast downward, voice thick with guilt. “M’sorry… I’m pathetic.”

Your heart clenched. You cupped his flushed cheek, the heat radiating from his skin like a furnace. “Hey,” you said firmly, but gently. “You’re sick. Everyone gets sick. Even G-Dragon.”

That earned the smallest smile from him—a shy curve of the lips and a soft huff of laughter that tickled the air between you. You kissed his cheek lightly, letting your lips linger against the warmth of his fevered skin.

“Now,” you said, brushing his hair out of his face. “Let’s get you wrapped up in front of the TV, and I’ll go make you something delicious.”

By the time you settled him on the couch, you'd turned it into a cozy nest of blankets and pillows. He sank into it like it was the safest place on earth, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he curled up. You pulled the blanket up to his chin and turned on his comfort show—something soft, nostalgic, the kind of thing that didn’t ask much from a tired mind.

For a few minutes, he looked peaceful. But then the coughing started again. Dry, persistent, tearing at his chest. He tried to stifle it, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, but it didn’t help much.

You stood in the kitchen, heart aching as you watched from the doorway. You knew how much he hated this—being weak, missing work, not being able to control what was happening in his own body. He’d always been a perfectionist, always felt the pressure to push through, to perform, to show up no matter what. But today, none of that mattered.

Today, he just needed to be taken care of.

So, you made it your mission. You blended his favorite smoothie and snuck in some vitamins. You made him a plate of warm food—something easy on the stomach and full of comfort. You kept the lights low, his tea hot, the tissues stocked, and the remote within reach.

He didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to lift a finger.

Because he’d spent his whole life showing up for everyone else.

And today, you were going to show up for him.

By the time the clock blinked 5:00 p.m., Jiyong was deep into his third nap of the day. Or at least, trying to be. Sleep had been an inconsistent companion, slipping through his fingers every time a coughing fit seized his chest. His rest was fractured, broken up by shallow breaths and body aches, but he clung to the stillness when he could.

He was curled up on the couch now, swaddled in a cocoon of blankets, his head resting heavily in your lap. His breathing was shallow, wheezy—each inhale sounding like it scraped down his throat. Your fingers threaded softly through his damp hair, moving without thought, trying to soothe whatever pain he couldn’t seem to shake. The TV murmured in the background, just enough to fill the quiet.

In your free hand, your phone screen glowed faintly. You scrolled through the delivery app, adding item after item with care: cough syrup, vapor rub, lozenges, decongestants, tissues, eye drops. Everything your mom used to keep on hand when you were little and sick. You didn’t want to miss a single thing that might bring him even a moment of relief.

You paused, then typed in a few more ingredients. Carrots. Celery. Egg noodles. Chicken thighs. The makings of your grandmother’s homemade chicken noodle soup. You hadn’t made it in years, but somehow, it felt like the exact thing Jiyong needed now. Comfort in a bowl. The taste of being cared for.

You confirmed the order and gently set your phone aside, your attention returning to Jiyong. He was still asleep, breathing softly, lashes fluttering slightly against his flushed cheeks. You brushed a damp strand of hair from his forehead and rested your palm lightly against his skin. Still warm. Still too warm.

You swallowed down the worry.

But then his body tensed, and within seconds, he was coughing violently—his whole frame convulsing with the effort. You jumped, startled, immediately sliding your arms under him to help him sit up. He leaned forward into your chest as the coughs wracked through him, gasping between each one.

“Oh, baby…” you whispered, rubbing firm, soothing circles along his back, your heart breaking with each breath he struggled to take.

Eventually, the fit subsided, leaving him slumped against you, panting. He groaned low and long, the frustration spilling out of him in a wave.

“I fucking hate this,” he muttered, voice raw and thick with exhaustion.

You pressed your chin to his shoulder, your arms still wrapped around his trembling frame. “I know, baby,” you murmured. “I’m having some stuff delivered—food, medicine. It’ll help you sleep through the night.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he turned into you, resting his forehead against your collarbone before gently pulling you into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, not as tight as usual, but with all the same love.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice softer now, almost ashamed. “For always taking care of me.”

You hugged him back, your hand stroking his hair again. “I’ll always take care of you,” you said softly. “Through sickness and in health, remember?”

You pulled back slightly and held up your hand, admiring the diamond ring he’d placed on your finger just two years ago. The sparkle of it caught the last light of the afternoon.

He took your hand in his, fingers tracing the band as a tired smile touched his lips. “Best decision I ever made.”

The two of you stayed like that for another 45 minutes, tangled in the warmth of each other and the couch. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy, your body sinking into his. You were drifting… until the doorbell rang.

You startled slightly, rubbing your eyes as you gently slipped out of Jiyong’s arms. He let out a groggy, disappointed huff, already missing your warmth. You kissed the top of his head before padding away.

You shuffled to the door, grabbed the delivery bag, and quickly made your way into the kitchen—ready to throw everything you had at this cold until it backed off. Jiyong, still weak but stubborn, watched you disappear around the corner.

Then, you heard the telltale sound of his slippers dragging across the hardwood floor. You smiled to yourself. “You should be resting,” you said without looking back.

“I missed you,” he said simply, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his body pressing gently into yours. “What did you get?” he asked, peeking into the bag over your shoulder.

“I’m making you soup for dinner,” you said, organizing the contents. “And I’m mixing up a medicine cocktail for you.”

He groaned dramatically. “Yuck. Medicine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you teased. “You wanna feel better, don’t you?”

He hummed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck like a child clinging to their favorite stuffed animal.

You pulled out the cough syrup and poured the thick, sticky liquid into the small dosage cup, bracing yourself for his inevitable protest. Just as expected, Jiyong sighed and shuffled over to the fridge. He poured himself a tall glass of chocolate milk.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not about to chase that tiny shot of grape syrup with milk.”

He raised the glass proudly. “Gotta get the taste out of my mouth somehow.”

You watched in horror as he downed the medicine like a shot, then immediately chugged the milk.

“You’re disgusting,” you said, half-laughing, half-gagging. “You know that?”

He set the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “You married me. For better or for worse.”

“Clearly,” you muttered with an eye-roll, though your smile betrayed your fondness.

Then you pulled out the Vapo stick, unscrewing the cap.

“Lift your shirt,” you said, waving the tube in front of him.

“Why?” he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Let me rub this on your chest. It’ll help open your lungs.”

His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t one of those weird things again, is it? Like that peel-off face mask from hell?”

You giggled. “This one’s legit. It was my favorite when I was a kid.” You held it up for him to smell, the minty scent filling the air.

He sniffed. “You mean when you were a little rave girl?”

“Shut up,” you laughed, already tugging up his hoodie. “Just trust me.”

He stood still as you gently rubbed the balm into his skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in the menthol. His body visibly relaxed.

“Told you,” you said smugly.

“Thanks, Jagi,” he murmured, finally looking at peace for the first time all day.

You leaned up and kissed him softly, lingering just long enough for him to melt into it. “Now go. Back to the couch while I make dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to help?” he asked, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“I’m sure,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “Go. Sit.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender and backed away, already turning toward the living room.

You turned back to the counter, already chopping vegetables, your heart full of love and worry and exhaustion—but above all, devotion. Because loving someone wasn’t always about the grand gestures or perfect days.

Sometimes it looked like soup and cough syrup and kisses on clammy foreheads.

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

By the time dinner was ready and the soup was simmering perfectly in the pot, Jiyong looked like a different person—or at least, a slightly stronger version of the one who had been dragging himself across the house all day. His color had returned ever so slightly, and the coughing fits that once shook him every few minutes had quieted into an occasional, mild wheeze. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart swell with relief.

You ladled steaming bowls of your grandmother’s chicken noodle soup—rich with herbs, tender chunks of chicken, and thick noodles—and brought them into the living room. Jiyong sat curled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in a nest of blankets, looking cozy and a little more alive. His eyes lit up the second you handed him his bowl.

And to your surprise—though maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised—he downed it like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Three bowls later, he slumped back against the couch with a satisfied groan, one hand resting lazily on his stomach.

You grinned as you stacked your empty bowls on the coffee table, leaving them there for Zoa and Iye to sniff and carefully lick clean. The cats didn’t care that the bowls were already spotless—they were just thrilled to be included.

You pressed play on the movie again, the familiar dialogue filling the room as the two of you sank deeper into the cushions. You glanced over and saw Jiyong beginning to nod off, his head lolling to the side, eyes blinking slower with every passing second. The soup, the medicine, and sheer exhaustion from the day were finally catching up to him.

“Come on,” you whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “Let’s go to bed.”

“M’comfy…” he mumbled sleepily, burying his cheek further into the throw pillow.

“You’ll be more comfy in bed, baby. Promise.”

He groaned like a child being asked to get up for school, but after a dramatic pause, he launched himself off the couch and into your arms, his limbs heavy and loose like a ragdoll. You stumbled back with a laugh, catching him just in time before he could drag you both down.

“God, you’re such a menace,” you teased, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you guided him toward the bedroom.

“Tired menace,” he murmured, nuzzling against your temple.

When you reached the bed, you helped him into it like he was made of glass. He sighed as he sank into the mattress, eyes already drifting closed again. You kissed his forehead before hurrying back to the kitchen to gather everything he might need through the night—water, tissues, another dose of medicine, cough drops all on standby. You placed it all neatly on the nightstand.

Once he was settled, you peeled off your clothes and changed into one of his oversized t-shirts. It swallowed you whole, soft with years of wear and still faintly scented like him.

You crawled into bed beside him, the blankets warm from his body heat. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, letting your body curl around his back.

“Jal ja, nae sarang,” you whispered against his temple, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

It wasn’t often Jiyong let you be the big spoon. Usually, he needed to be the one holding you—his protector instincts constantly humming under the surface. But tonight, he just wanted to be held. To feel safe. And you were more than happy to be that for him. After all the times he’d carried your stress, your grief, your pain—it felt good to return the favor, to be the arms he melted into.

Your fingers drifted lazily over his skin, tracing invisible patterns across his side, and slowly, you felt the tension melt out of him. His breathing deepened. Even. Steady.

And then… silence.

He had finally drifted into the deep, peaceful sleep he’d been chasing all day.

And with a full heart, you held him a little tighter, whispering another silent promise against his skin.

I’ve got you. Always.

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saymonsays · 2 months ago

Text

3 — Solving for X (and Maybe Love)

pairing: kwon jiyong x reader

ep 1 | ep 2

Summary: ‎Rivals Are Bickering, Secrets Are Leaking, Chemistry Is Peaking. Sometimes silence says more than we’re ready to hear. Chemistry still simmering between you and Jiyong… even in silence.

‎Tags: slow burn, highschool romance, opposites attract, art vs math, chaotic friendships, banter, wholesome chemistry, awkward friendship, unspoken feelings, some emotional parts, tension, awkward silences, one-sided glances, and parents unknowingly fanning the flames, just fluff

‎"The Distance Between Our Tables"

‎P‎eople always think they know the full story. That’s the thing about school—the walls talk. But the truth? It’s always quieter than the rumors.

‎

‎She was the kind of girl everyone noticed. Not because she wanted to be. Just… because she couldn’t help it. Pretty, confident, independent—and bad at math. Really bad. The kind of bad that made her avoid eye contact when midterms were returned.

‎

‎What most people didn’t know?

‎

‎Her father was the principal.

‎

‎She never mentioned it. Not once. Not even to Saebom. She hated the way people looked at her differently when they found out—as if she hadn’t earned anything herself. So she kept it quiet. She wore the title like a shadow. Not a flex, not a crown. Just another thing she didn’t ask for.

‎

‎And Jiyong? He was the opposite of everything loud. A quiet boy. A boy people forgot was even in class until test scores came out. He moved like a whisper, spoke like he was apologizing for breathing.

‎

‎But he noticed things.

‎

‎He noticed how she never asked for help. How she pretended to understand just to avoid looking weak. How she furrowed her brow and chewed the cap of her pen during tutoring sessions, pretending to listen while secretly drawing sad little monsters in her notebook margins.

‎

‎He noticed it all.

‎

‎And somewhere along the way, without meaning to…

‎he started caring.

‎

‎Math Class – The Day After Midterms

‎The class was silent.

‎

‎Mr. Lee walked down the row, placing marked exams face-down on desks like funeral pamphlets.

‎

‎You saw yours.

‎37.

‎

‎You didn’t flinch. You just quietly flipped it over and tucked it inside your book.

‎

‎“Y/N,” Mr. Lee called out.

‎You looked up.

‎

‎“This is your second failing grade this semester.”

‎

‎“I know,” you said flatly.

‎

‎He frowned. “Aren’t you being tutored? What’s the problem here?”

‎

‎You stayed quiet.

‎

‎“Who’s tutoring her again?” Mr. Lee turned.

‎

‎From the back of the class, Jiyong’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I am.”

‎

‎Mr. Lee folded his arms. “You’re top of the class. Why is your student failing?”

‎

‎You opened your mouth—but Jiyong stood.

‎

‎“It’s my fault,” he said.

‎

‎The whole room turned.

‎

‎“I didn’t adjust the way I was teaching. I thought she understood more than she did.”

‎

‎Mr. Lee looked stunned. “You’re taking the blame?”

‎

‎“I didn’t explain things properly,” Jiyong said again, eyes on the floor. “She’s not stupid.”

‎

‎Your throat tightened.

‎

‎He wasn’t supposed to do that.

‎He wasn’t supposed to protect you.

‎

‎After Class – Rooftop

‎

‎You pulled him aside, furious.

‎

‎“Why did you say that? That wasn’t your fault, Jiyong!”

‎

‎He looked up. “You were going to get in trouble.”

‎

‎“I don’t care!” you snapped. “You think I want people thinking I got pity help from the smartest kid in class?!”

‎

‎His face shifted—like your words stung more than they should have.

‎

‎“…I wasn’t trying to pity you.”

‎

‎You crossed your arms. “Then what were you trying to do?”

‎

‎Silence.

‎

‎Then he said, very softly

‎‎“I just didn’t want you to feel alone.”

‎

‎That hit like a punch in the chest.

‎

‎Because for a second—you weren’t mad anymore.

‎

‎You were scared.

‎

‎Because when someone like Jiyong cared about you…

‎

‎It was harder to pretend that you didn’t care back.

‎

‎———————

‎

‎You were picking at your dinner, chin resting on your palm. Your mom had tried to lighten the mood with her usual, “Want more kimchi?” but you just shook your head.

‎

‎Your dad glanced over the rim of his glasses. “Midterm results came in.”

‎

‎“Yeah,” you muttered. “Mr. Lee was very vocal about it.”

‎

‎Silence. Then he said, “You know, I don’t care if you’re not good at math.”

‎

‎You looked up.

‎

‎“I care if you give up before trying.”

‎

‎“…I am trying,” you mumbled. “It’s just not working.”

‎

‎He nodded slowly. “That boy… Kwon Jiyong. He’s tutoring you?”

‎

‎You blinked. “Yeah. Why?”

‎

‎Your dad leaned back, folding his arms. “He’s a good kid. Respectful. Quiet. A little awkward, but... good.”

‎

‎You raised a brow. “You met him?”

‎

‎He smiled. “His parents own the restaurant near the old bookstore. I eat there sometimes.”

‎

‎You stared. “You eat there?”

‎

‎He gave you a pointed look. “What, you thought the principal just hibernated in the office all day?”

‎

‎You huffed a laugh—but it faded quickly.

‎

‎Your dad sighed, more gently this time. “I know you don’t like people helping you. But maybe that’s not a weakness. Maybe it’s... something you’re allowed to have.”

‎Jiyong at the Restaurant (Evening)

‎———————

‎He was refilling the soy sauce bottles at the counter, eyes a little dull, hands slower than usual. His mom watched him for a second before nudging him gently with a dish towel.

‎

‎“You’ve been sulking for three days.”

‎

‎“I’m not sulking,” he muttered.

‎

‎“You’re sulking,” she said again, smiling. “What happened? Girl trouble?”

‎

‎Jiyong almost choked on air.

‎

‎“I—no—she’s just…” He trailed off.

‎

‎His mom tilted her head. “Just what?”

‎

‎He looked down at the bottle in his hand. “Mad. And I think she’s right to be.”

‎

‎A pause.

‎

‎Then, softly: “She didn’t ask me to speak for her. I just… did.”

‎

‎His mom hummed. “Next time, try asking what she needs, instead of guessing.”

‎

‎School Hallway – You Try Talking to Him

‎You spotted him by the lockers—alone, like always, headphones around his neck but not actually on. His bag was slung over one shoulder, and he was pretending to fix the zipper just to avoid looking around.

‎

‎You walked up slowly.

‎

‎“Hey,” you said.

‎

‎He looked up—then froze.

‎

‎“…Hi.”

‎

‎You scratched the back of your neck. “You’re avoiding me.”

‎

‎“No, I’m not.” He was definitely lying.

‎

‎“You are. You didn’t even come to tutoring yesterday.”

‎

‎Jiyong shifted. “I thought maybe you needed space.”

‎

‎You sighed. “I needed you to not act like I stabbed you in the chest.”

‎

‎He blinked. “I didn’t think you—”

‎

‎“I yelled because I was mad, not because I wanted you to disappear.”

‎

‎He swallowed. “I just… didn’t want to make it worse.”

‎

‎The silence stretched.

‎

‎Then you said, softer this time: “I don’t hate you, Jiyong.”

‎His eyes met yours—finally—and there was that moment.

‎

‎The one where neither of you says what you’re really feeling.

‎But both of you know.

‎Deep down, painfully, you know.

‎

‎———————

‎

‎Saebom was storming down the hallway, papers flying out of her folder, fury radiating off her like steam from ramen.

‎

‎“I cannot believe this!” she growled.

‎

‎You raised a brow. “Let me guess—Daesung?”

‎

‎“Who else?! That slippery, annoying, too-loud-for-his-own-good gremlin!”

‎

‎You stifled a laugh. “What did he do this time?”

‎

‎“He beat me on the science quiz by TWO POINTS. And he taped his score to my locker with glitter tape and wrote ‘Try harder, Queen :3 ’ in pink marker.”

‎

‎You blinked. “...I mean, that’s kind of iconic.”

‎

‎“I HATE HIM.”

‎

‎Cue: Daesung strutting by like he’s in a shampoo commercial.

‎

‎“Oh, hey Saebom!” he chirped. “Saw your score. Brutal. You still want my notes? I can dumb them down if you’d like.”

‎

‎“You’re going to regret speaking to me today,” she snapped.

‎

‎“Already do,” he winked, then disappeared into class.

‎

‎You and Saebom stood in silence.

‎

‎“...He flirts like a clown,” she muttered.

‎

‎You grinned. “But like... a cute clown?”

‎

‎She gave you the death glare.

‎

‎Weekend – Coffee with Dad (Outside School)

‎It was a rare Sunday when both you and your dad had nothing to do. You were seated across from him at a quiet café near the bookstore—just the two of you, warm drinks, and a table too small for awkward silence.

‎

‎He took a sip. “You’ve been quieter lately.”

‎

‎“Midterms,” you said.

‎

‎He raised a brow.

‎

‎“…And maybe the boy tutoring me thinks I hate him.”

‎

‎“Do you?”

‎

‎“No. But I yell like I do.”

‎

‎He gave a quiet laugh. “You’re like your mother.”

‎

‎You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Don’t say that. She cries over animal commercials.”

‎

‎“She’s got a big heart. So do you.”

‎

‎You were about to roll your eyes again—until your dad’s expression shifted. “You know… you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

‎

‎You blinked.

‎

‎“I know you try to be this ‘cool girl who doesn’t need help,’” he said. “But… you’re still my kid. It’s okay to let people in. Even him.”

‎

‎You didn’t answer.

‎

‎Across the street, a student from school stood frozen outside the bakery window—half-hidden, phone in hand, eyes wide.

‎

‎They had just seen you and the principal laughing over coffee.

‎

‎And then, they ran.

‎———————

‎Monday – Whisper Games Begin

‎You knew something was off the second you walked into school.

‎

‎The stares were sharper. The whispers shorter. Even Saebom raised an eyebrow. “Did you get a new bag or something?”

‎

‎You didn’t answer.

‎

‎Then you heard it.

‎

‎“She’s the principal’s daughter?”

‎

‎“Wait—is that how she got into the art contest?”

‎

‎“Is that why Mr. Lee never really punished her?”

‎

‎The worst part wasn’t the rumors. It was the way they looked at you now.

‎

‎Like you didn’t earn anything.

‎

‎At lunch, you sat with Saebom and barely touched your food. Even Daesung didn’t make a single sarcastic comment—which was scarier than when he did.

‎

‎And Jiyong? He hadn’t looked at you once.

‎

‎Until the end of the day.

‎

‎When he passed you in the hallway, paused, and quietly slipped a folded paper into your hand.

‎

‎You opened it after he left.

‎

‎It was a sketch.

‎

‎A very, very bad drawing of… you. Sitting at your desk. With the words underneath:

‎

‎“This is how I see you. Not them.”

‎

‎Your heart stuttered.

‎

‎It was the ugliest, sweetest thing you’d ever seen.

‎—

‎There’s a reason you never told anyone your dad was the principal.

‎

‎Because when you were twelve and transferred schools mid-year, your first “friend” said, “Do we have to be nice to you ‘cause your dad’s, like, the boss?”

‎

‎You didn’t reply. Just smiled like it didn’t matter.

‎After that, you learned: keep it quiet. Let people judge you for the things you can’t control—like being bad at math. That was easier than being seen as the girl who cheated her way through everything.

‎

‎So yeah. It wasn’t shame. It was survival.

‎

‎Jiyong Reacts (Awkwardly, Of Course)

‎He was supposed to just hand you your notebook.

‎

‎Instead, he said

‎“…Your dad’s the principal?”

‎

‎You blinked.

‎

‎Then shrugged. “Yeah.”

‎

‎He nodded… once… twice… then again… and didn’t say anything.

‎

‎The silence stretched.

‎

‎“…You mad?” you asked.

‎

‎“No,” he said quickly. “Just. Processing.”

‎

‎You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You think I got special treatment?”

‎

‎He looked at you—really looked this time—and shook his head.

‎

‎“…I think you probably didn’t tell anyone because you didn’t want to be treated special.”

‎

‎You blinked.

‎

‎Okay, ouch. That hit too close.

‎

‎“…Yeah. That.”

‎

‎Cafeteria – Saebom vs. Daesung, Round 7,421

‎Saebom slammed her tray on the table. “HE STOLE MY HIGH SCORE TITLE IN ENGLISH.”

‎

‎Daesung strolled by and waved like a pageant queen. “Oh? Didn’t see you at the top. Must’ve been a typo.”

‎

‎“You used a comma splice in your essay,” she hissed.

‎

‎“And yet, here we are. Me: Winner. You: Bitter.”

‎

‎You glanced up from your barely-eaten rice. “Can you two stop flirting?”

‎

‎Both: “WE’RE NOT FLIRTING.”

‎

‎You rolled your eyes. “Sure. And Jiyong knows how to draw hands.”

‎

‎At the far end of the table, Jiyong paused mid-sip. “...what?...”

—

‎Art Room – Awkward Chemistry™ Reloaded

‎It was silent again.

‎

‎You were sketching on the edge of your worksheet. Jiyong was trying to explain algebra but kept glancing over.

‎

‎“…Is that me?” he asked.

‎

‎You didn’t look up. “Mmhm.”

‎

‎“Why do I have a pigeon on my head?”

‎

‎You grinned. “It’s metaphorical.”

‎

‎“For what?”

‎

‎“For how you never notice when people like you.”

‎

‎He froze. “Wait—what?”

‎

‎You blinked, feigning innocence. “What?”

‎

‎He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

‎

‎“…Nothing,” he mumbled, going back to his textbook way too quickly.

‎

‎And you?

‎You just kept sketching.

‎With the tiniest smirk tugging at your lips.

‎—

‎It was a normal Tuesday night.

‎

‎Jiyong was wiping tables, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy from leaning over hot food trays all evening. His mom was in the kitchen, shouting orders in rapid Korean. His dad was restocking side dishes with a huge smile.

‎

‎The bell rang as a customer walked out.

‎

‎“Jiyong-ah,” his mom called. “Bring the kimchi upstairs.”

‎

‎He groaned slightly, grabbing the tray. As he walked up the narrow stairs that led to their home above the restaurant, he paused by the window.

‎

‎He saw a couple walking past, laughing. Just normal teenagers, not thinking about grades or gossip or expectations.

‎

‎He stared at them for a second longer than he should’ve.

‎

‎Then turned away.

‎

‎You – Alone in a Mall, Feeling Off

‎You were at a mall on a random afternoon, sipping from a smoothie that tasted like regret and boredom.

‎

‎You’d walked into three stores and bought nothing. Scrolled through your phone more times than you could count. Opened your sketch app, then closed it again.

‎

‎You hated this feeling.

‎

‎It was like something was heavy in your chest, and no amount of new earrings or cold drinks could melt it.

‎

‎You looked around.

‎

‎Everyone was smiling.

‎

‎You weren’t.

‎

‎Home – Parents Noticing

‎That night at dinner, your mom nudged you softly.

‎

‎“You didn’t finish your rice.”

‎

‎You shrugged.

‎

‎“Something happen at school?” your dad asked.

‎

‎You stabbed a piece of tofu with your chopstick, avoiding both of their eyes.

‎

‎“Just school stuff.”

‎

‎Your mom exchanged a look with your dad. He set his chopsticks down.

‎

‎“We heard… about the gossip. That people found out.”

‎

‎You froze.

‎

‎“It’s okay,” your mom said gently. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t affect you.”

‎

‎“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly. “Really.”

‎

‎Your dad stared at you a moment longer.

‎

‎“Even the strongest people crack sometimes,” he said. “Doesn’t make you weak.”

‎

‎You stayed quiet.

‎

‎But later that night, alone in your room…

‎You cried a little. Just a little.

‎—

‎School Library – The Question

‎You and Jiyong sat side by side, books sprawled everywhere, the table buried in loose worksheets and quiet tension.

‎

‎You were doodling on the corner of your math sheet again. He watched, chin resting on his palm.

‎

‎“…Why art?” he asked softly.

‎

‎You blinked. “What?”

‎

‎He sat up straighter. “You could’ve picked anything. Music, dance, even writing. Why drawing?”

‎

‎You stared down at the messy sketch. A cat on a bicycle. It looked like it was about to fall.

‎

‎You spoke slowly.

‎

‎“When I was little, I didn’t talk a lot. Not because I was shy—just… didn’t know how to say what I was feeling. Not to my parents. Not to my friends. Not even to myself.”

‎

‎Jiyong didn’t say anything. Just listened.

‎

‎“So I drew,” you said. “Weird stuff. Scary stuff. Funny stuff. People didn’t always get it. But I did. And that was enough.”

‎

‎Silence.

‎

‎“…You talk a lot now,” he said quietly.

‎

‎You smiled, a little sad. “Yeah. I got tired of no one hearing me.”

‎

‎Another pause.

‎

‎He nodded slowly.

‎

‎“…I get that.”

‎

‎time skipped

‎

‎INT. CAR – EVENING

‎

‎You sat with your arms crossed, face glued to the window.

‎

‎“Why are we even going there?” you mumbled.

‎

‎“Because I’m hungry,” your dad replied, casual. “And the food’s nice.”

‎

‎“…You literally ate lunch at the school canteen.”

‎

‎“Still hungry.”

‎

‎You shot him a glare. “You’re only going there because you want me to make peace with Jiyong.”

‎

‎He didn’t even try to deny it. Just shrugged. “That, and the kimchi jjigae is top tier.”

‎

‎You groaned. “Dad…”

‎

‎“You can’t avoid him forever, you know.”

‎

‎“I can try.”

‎

‎But you still followed him out of the car. Still walked beside him, dragging your feet, as he strolled into the restaurant like it was just any other day.

‎

‎INT. RESTAURANT – EVENING

‎

‎The little bell above the door chimed. The smell of garlic and gochujang hit instantly.

‎

‎You kept your head low, heart thumping stupidly.

‎

‎Jiyong’s mom popped out from the kitchen. “Oh! Mr. Jung!”

‎

‎Your dad grinned. “It’s been a while, right?”

‎

‎“You always say that, but you came last week,” she laughed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sit wherever you want!”

‎

‎Her eyes landed on you. “Ahh, is this your daughter?”

‎

‎You froze.

‎

‎“…Yes,” your dad said proudly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

‎

‎You smiled awkwardly. “Hello, Miss…”

‎

‎And then—you heard it.

‎

‎Footsteps.

‎Slow. Familiar.

‎

‎You glanced to the side—

‎

‎Jiyong, standing by the counter, holding a tray, equally frozen.

‎

‎Eyes locking with yours.

‎

‎You could practically hear the awkward music swell in your head.

‎

‎“…Hey,” he said.

‎

‎“…Hey,” you muttered back, looking anywhere but his face.

‎

‎His mom raised an eyebrow. “Wait. You two know each other?”

‎

‎You both answered at the same time.

‎

‎“She’s my—”

‎“He’s my—”

‎

‎Silence.

‎

‎“…Tutor,” you said.

‎“…Student,” he added.

‎

‎His mom blinked. “Ooooh.” Then smiled. “That’s nice.”

‎

‎Nice?

‎

‎You wanted to evaporate.

‎LATER – AT THE TABLE

‎

‎Your dad was slurping soup. “Seriously, you have to try this. You can’t sulk when there’s tofu this good.”

‎

‎You were barely touching your rice. Eyes flicking every few seconds to the kitchen door.

‎

‎Jiyong passed by once—twice—clearly avoiding your table. At one point your eyes met and both of you looked away so fast, you nearly gave yourselves whiplash.

‎

‎Your dad leaned closer. “You should say hi.”

‎

‎“I did say hi.”

‎

‎“You should say more hi.”

‎

‎“Dad—”

‎

‎“Okay okay,” he grinned. “But one more thing…”

‎

‎You looked at him suspiciously.

‎

‎“…If I accidentally tell his mom you like drawing him with pigeons on his head—”

‎

‎“DAD.”

‎

‎Jiyong's Perspective

‎

‎He walked past quickly, eyes glued to the tray in his hands. He could feel your gaze brush over him for a second.

‎

��But it was different.

‎

‎No teasing.

‎

‎No stubborn comebacks.

‎

‎No scribbled cats in math margins.

‎

‎You weren’t you.

‎

‎He slowed down.

‎

‎Just enough to hear your dad say, “You should say hi.”

‎

‎You didn’t.

‎

‎His heart sank a little.

‎

‎She’s avoiding me.

‎

‎IN THE STORAGE ROOM – LATER

‎

‎He sat on a low plastic stool, fiddling with a box of wooden chopsticks.

‎

‎His brain wouldn’t shut up.

‎"She’s embarrassed. She regrets telling you about her dad."

‎

‎‎"She probably doesn’t even like being tutored."

‎‎"You messed it up the moment you got involved."

‎

‎He sighed.

‎

‎He didn’t mean to freeze up at school. He didn’t mean to make things awkward. But he panicked.

‎

‎You were always so hard to read.

‎

‎And now?

‎

‎Now you were even harder to reach.

‎

‎MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE (your POV briefly)

‎

‎You sat in your dad’s car, frowning out the window.

‎

‎“You okay?” your dad asked.

‎

‎You shrugged. “Fine.”

‎

‎Just a little… weird.

‎‎That’s all.

‎‎Totally normal.

‎

‎You weren’t mad at Jiyong. You weren’t disappointed either. You were just—what’s the word?

‎

‎Confused?

‎‎Overthinking?

‎‎Definitely not in denial.

—

Author's note: told u this part's gonna be longer :33 ALSO I SWEAR THE PAIRING ALWAYS REMINDS ME OF GO YOUNJUNG AND LEE JUNGHA IN MOVING >.<

#kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong fluff #kwon jiyong fic #kwon jiyong #gdragon x reader #gdragon #g dragon x reader #fluff #bigbang x reader #bigbang

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rawringdinosaurex101 · 29 days ago

Note

haloooo :33 can we errrrrrr get like uhm so err basically err tabi/gd/dae as like a girl dad fluffy hcs? :333 it's like ok if not 👅👅 💕💕💕💕💕 tankyuuuu

~𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬~

TYSMMM FOR THE REQUEST I WAS SO HAPPY AAHH

Parings- Top <3 Fem reader, Gd <3 fem reader, Dae <3 fem reader

Warnings! Fluffy fluff, swearing, ass writing.

𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒮𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒽𝓎𝓊𝓃 <𝟥

𓂃₊ ⊹ Seunghyun never really had the thought of having kids until he met YOUU

𓂃₊ ⊹ When your daughter was first born, he stopped whatever event he had, cancelled everything just to take care of you and your daughter. You kept telling him he didn't need to and you could take care of yourself, you think he'd care? Nope he'd cling to you for two whole months.

𓂃₊ ⊹ When your daughter was old enough to start writing, he'd teach her how to draw, paint and even do some pottery!

𓂃₊ ⊹ If you were burnt out or just a little tired, Seunghyun would gently insist on you to get some rest, get you some snacks, then play with your daughter.

𓂃₊ ⊹ He'd definitely go and make some cringey dad jokes or say "You like?" in a teasing matter to your daughter.

𓂃₊ ⊹ He would love to play princess with your daughter always being the "evil stepmother" or any villain and you would sit and record them in secret.

𓂃₊ ⊹ You would teach Seunghyun and your daughter how to bake sweets, and Seunghyun would usually fail at it but at least your daughter did it perfectly.

ＧＤｒａｇｏｎ <3

𓂃₊ ⊹ When you announced the birth of your DAUGHTER, he was so happy he jumped and drove straight to you.

𓂃₊ ⊹ He loves buy gifts for your daughter to spoil her ofc, fake makeup toys, a wooden kitchen set, dolls, lots of dolls.

𓂃₊ ⊹ Jiyong would buy so much dresses, expensive ass jewelry, snacks, plushies.

𓂃₊ ⊹ I'm pretty sure he'd stop smoking when you were pregnant.

𓂃₊ ⊹He would do matching manicures for all three of you guys.

𓂃₊ ⊹He'd play with Joa and Iye with you being super gentle all the way.

𓂃₊ ⊹Some days you'd find him sleeping with your daughter in his arms.

𓂃₊ ⊹When it's your daughter birthday he'd buy her a shit ton of expensive gifts.

𓂃₊ ⊹ Would love to match rings with your daughter <33

𝒟𝒶𝑒𝓈𝓊𝓃𝑔

𓂃₊ ⊹He'd learn to do different hairstyles for your daughter, braids, styling buns anything.

𓂃₊ ⊹ Daesung would definitely let your daughter do his makeup and laugh a lot in the process causing your daughter to scold him for moving so much.

𓂃₊ ⊹He'd play any sport your daughter would want to try like soccer, basketball, volleyball anything.

𓂃₊ ⊹He'd love matching outfits with you and your daughter.

𓂃₊ ⊹He would brag about how smart and cute your daughter is to his friends.

𓂃₊ ⊹You would bring your daughter offstage to one of his concerts and he'd be on top of the world.

𓂃₊ ⊹He'd never let you do anything when your tired.

𓂃₊ ⊹When it's your daughter's birthday he would bake her a home-made cake.

𓂃₊ ⊹I think he'd love buying you jewelry, hair clips and other accessories for your daughter <333

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ILY OML

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serenadeonacanoe · 12 days ago

Text

Untitled, 2025 (GD x OFC) Chapter 6: Calls

Pairing: G-Dragon/Kwon Jiyong x OFC Genre/Warnings: Slow Burn, Tour Life, fluffyfluff, yearning, eventual smut, 2014 ==> 2020 ==> 2025.

It’s 2025 and the King of K-Pop is back. He and his music are everywhere. On the charts, all over social media and smack in the middle of Maddie’s work schedule. Sometimes she still can’t believe this is her actual job now - documenting the chaos behind the scenes and trying to make sure no one on his team gets lost, bruised or accidentally starts a viral scandal.

What’s even harder to believe? That she and Jiyong met five years ago. Actually… scratch that. They met ten years ago too. Time has a weird sense of humor like that and things get blurry when you’re busy, nostalgic, and maybe just a little bit smitten. Also, life throws more daisies your way than you’d expect.

Part 1 2 3 4 5

More on AO3 -----------------------------------------

February 2020

His face is so close to the camera that I start chuckling. “Why is it so dark on your side? I can hardly see you.” I glance at my own screen, which I’ve stacked against a bag of rice and a couple of books and yeah... fair. Didn’t even think about lighting when I picked up. “Aesthetic darkness. Adds to the drama…” He laughs quietly, his lips curling up at the corners. I catch myself just looking at him, soft light flickering on the edge of his cheekbone, then reach for the light switch. When the light comes on and he sees me better, his smile widens and mine does too. Can’t help it. I straighten up and try to remember why we’re here.

“Okay. So. Curry. We’re having curry. What… where do we start?” “I have absolutely no idea. I haven’t cooked anything in years.” “Great. No, this is a very promising venture then.”

We both know it doesn’t matter. The cooking isn’t the point.

There’s no lockdown in place yet, but Covid already has us all wrapped up tight. I haven’t left the apartment in a week. Everyone is working from home, groceries are delivered, the walls feel like they’re leaning in. I was seriously about to lose it when Jiyong randomly asked in our group chat if anyone wanted to cook together. Online. I didn’t expect it from him. Which he admitted too. Turns out I’m not the only one going a little stir crazy.

So we cook rice. Fry meat and veggies. Try to make sauce. He burns something because he’s too busy pulling faces at the camera to entertain me. I smear turmeric across my cheek without noticing and he grins like he’s just seen the best thing all week. “You’ve got a little… no, more… yeah, now it’s worse. Just leave it. It’s a look.”

When I finally taste the sauce, I’m a little let down. That was a lot of effort for something that’s just… fine. “You don’t look so happy…” “Well… it’s alright. Just not great.” He tries his, makes a heroic attempt at pretending it’s good, then drops his shoulders and groans at the camera. “Idol boy never learned to cook?” He’s laughing now, full-on turning to the screen. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” “That’s exactly why I do it.”

We’re both grinning. Because we know what this is. It’s flirting. Obvious, maybe. But neither of us minds. “I wish we could actually eat together. This sucks…” he says, finally, voice softer now. I pout and nod. “Yeah. It does.”

Still, we stay on the call. Eat together anyway. Laugh about who chews louder. Somehow we end up brushing our teeth in sync, both holding our phones up in the bathroom like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s weird. But weird in a good way. Intimate, even.

When we say good night, there’s a little pause. Like neither of us quite knows how to end it. Not ready yet to say we should do this again. Even though I think we both want to. I go to bed with butterflies anyway. I really need this pandemic to get under control soon. Because I’m starting to think I might actually want to kiss that stupid face of his.

February 2025

I’m in bed when he calls. A video call. For a second I think about not answering, but then I wonder why and pick up. Suddenly I’m very aware of my bare face, the pimple patch on my cheek and my already unraveling top bun. But he looks like he’s been in bed too, the room around him dark. He’s smiling. “Is this a mistake?” I ask. “Well hello to you too.” “Butt dial?” He chuckles. “When was the last time you butt dialed anyone? Phones don’t even have buttons anymore.” Fair. “You look sleepy.” he says and I suck in my lower lip a little in frustration. Not thrilled he noticed. Though it’s pretty obvious. “Well, I was. Not anymore. Now I’m mostly confused.” I’m not beating around the bush. I know Jiyong has a habit of pretending things are perfectly normal, even when they aren’t. But I’m not in the mood for that tonight. He sees my look and knows me well enough as well. There’s a question to be answered. “Dais, I just missed you. So I thought I’d say hi.”

Fuck. Okay, that’s... really adorable. And surprisingly honest. My face softens before I can stop it. He sees it and smiles wider. Man. When he smiles like that he looks like a cartoon character. In the best way. It’s a dangerous look, addicting and infectious.

He shifts toward the light. His hair is wet, poking out from under a hoodie. There’s some stubble on his chin, the kind he gets when he’s had a few days off. I almost sigh.

“I think I miss you too.” I say. “Well, I miss hanging out with everyone. Sometimes I’m still sad the group never really got back together… I guess after Cheungha moved to Busan post-pandemic we just…” I stop. Because if I’m honest, I’m not even sure they aren’t still hanging out. They might be. Just without me. Most of them knew each other before. Ji still sees his former bandmates and staff all the time. The others... I don’t know.

“Yeah. Sad that ended.” Jiyong murmurs while flopping onto the couch and grabbing a cat from offscreen. “Well… why did you stop texting me back then?” I shouldn't care so much, but ask it. I always wondered. Just like I always wondered if he remembered me from the holiday house. No clue why I never asked before, probably didn’t want to admit how much I still wanted to know the answer.

He looks at me - well, at the screen. “Weren’t you the one who started phasing me out?” I raise my eyebrows. Genuinely confused. “Uhm... what?” He pouts a little. “It felt like... I don’t know, like I was annoying you.”

My mouth opens, then closes again. Oh. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I think... it was kind of the opposite. I was really sad when I didn’t hear from you anymore. But I didn’t want to seem desperate either.”

We’re both quiet for a moment. A lot to process.

“Shit.” he finally mutters. I nod. Shit indeed.

“But, uh… Daisy. Do you miss the group… or me a bit more than them?” When he looks up I can tell it took courage. He looks younger like that. Softer. The corners of my mouth twitch. I almost lie - almost. Some evil instinct tells me to dodge. But I don’t.

“Mainly you, Ji.”

We both grin at each other like absolute idiots.

“Good.” he says finally. And then, surprisingly quickly “Wanna go for a walk?” It sounds random until I realize he means right now. I glance out the window. It’s snowing again. I look back at the screen. He’s grinning. My heart jumps. Yeah. We should go for a walk. I want to see him. I’m glad he called.

When I step out of the car about twenty minutes later in a quiet parking lot halfway between our places, I spot his vehicle right away. Of course I do. It's impossible to miss, it’s that flashy. The driver’s door opens and we both burst out laughing when we see how well our ridiculous layering matches. Pajamas under oversized coats, scarves, beanies and boots that don’t go together at all. I can’t stop giggling as we walk up to each other. It’s fun. It’s light. It’s absurd. I feel like I’ve time-traveled. Like we both have.

It’s almost 3 AM on a weekday and the residential neighborhood is silent. The snow has stopped but left just enough of a layer to crunch under our feet. Our breath floats up in soft clouds. As soon as we start moving, he reaches for my hand. Both gloved, but still.

“I missed you the most too.” he says eventually, eyes forward, after we walked for a bit and talked about the cold only. “Oh…” I reply, barely above a whisper. “Because I think you’re really wonderful. And I always have.”

That makes me stop for a second. But he doesn’t. He keeps walking, a little slower, tugging gently at my hand so I’ll follow.

“I mean, you probably know. It’s not an apology or anything. Just… an explanation. I just wasn’t in the headspace for anything back then. But I really liked you.”

My brain hits pause. Everything around me slows down, except my heartbeat. I stare at his back and realize his hand is still holding mine like he’s afraid I might pull away. I don’t. But now I have stopped again and he has to as well.

“Like… really liked me?” I ask, catching up. He turns to me, grinning without much sound. “Yeah. Like really really. But you knew that, right?” I shake my head. “No. I mean… we flirted a little. But we were always ‘just friends,’ weren’t we?” He squints at me like I’ve said something truly absurd. “We cooked together on Zoom, Daisy. That’s, like, almost domestic.” “Yeah… I just thought you were bored.” He laughs, loud enough that it echoes a little. “I was. Really really bored. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to seeing your face every single day.”

That makes me blush. I lean my head onto his shoulder to hide it and he lets out a soft little sound I can’t quite place. His arm goes around my waist. I feel it through all the layers.

“You still do?” I ask, voice muffled by his coat. He hums into my hair. “Yeah.”

It’s warm like this, with his arm around me and my head against his shoulder. But eventually I stand up straighter again and that means looking at his face. His beautiful face. He’s bundled up but somehow still manages to look exactly like himself. The sharp lines softened by the cold, his breath visible in the air between us.

“Please… please tell me I can finally kiss you?” he asks and he’s smiling, but not with his eyes. His whole expression is one long, silent plea. He looks like someone barely holding it together. And his voice is needy. Rough. I feel it too, this restless buzz in my skin. It’s not pity. It’s not pressure. It’s just the overwhelming need to say yes.

So I nod. And then his lips are on mine.

At first, it’s cautious. One of those slow, nervous, is-this-really-happening kisses. Gentle pressure. A slight tilt of his head. He smells like something sweet I can’t quite place. But then something shifts.

It gets hungry. Fast. Like we’ve been holding this in for way too long and now we can’t stop. My hands are in his coat, pulling him closer. His fingers slide into my hair even though I’m still wearing a hat. His tongue grazes mine, careful at first then deeper. I gasp against his mouth. He groans softly in return. It’s the kind of kiss that scrambles your thoughts. Makes the world blur at the edges. I think I make a noise I’ve never made before. Embarrassing maybe. But he likes it. I can tell. The cold doesn’t matter. The layers of clothing don’t matter. All I feel is him. All I want is more.

In the end I am not sure how we manage to stop, but we are both so breathless, it takes a few moments to not feel dizzy. “Wow.” he whispers, barely louder than the snow under our feet. I can’t help but grin. My lips are swollen. My heart feels like it’s trying to tap-dance its way out of my chest.

“Yeah.” he hums, his hands still resting on my waist. “Worth the wait though.”

We stay like that for another moment, just looking at each other like two idiots too happy to move. Then we start walking again, slower now. Our hands find each other’s automatically and I hold onto his like it's the most natural thing in the world. The snow crunches beneath our feet. A cat meows in the distance. Somewhere, a porch light flickers off. There’s no rush to say anything. It’s the kind of silence that feels shared, not awkward.

By the time we reach the empty little parking lot, I almost wish the walk was longer. I spot my car first, then his - far too shiny and dramatic for this neighborhood, parked just a little crooked. Of course. We stop in the middle, between the two cars. There’s still a dusting of snow on the windshields. His hair is a mess under his hat. I probably look a mess too. But he smiles like he’s seeing something perfect.

“This was really nice.” he says. And I nod. No plans are made. No promises. But I know how he looked at me tonight. I know how he kissed me. I know how I felt. So I don’t need any of that. “Drive safe, okay?” I say, still holding his hand. “You too.” I start to let go, but he leans in for one last kiss. It’s softer this time. Not needy, not rushed. Just sweet and certain. A kiss that says I like you and I’m glad we did this and maybe let’s do it again. Then he opens the car door, gets in, waves once through the window. I sit in my own car for a second before starting the engine. The heater whirs to life and I lean back against the seat, looking up through the windshield at the quiet sky. God, I’m glad he called.

#big bang fluff #big bang smut #big bang fanfiction #fanfic #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong fluff #kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong smut #gdragon fanfiction #gdragon #gdragon fanfic #gdragon x reader

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gds-daisy · 27 days ago

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hellooooo i’m here for the bb matching event:)))

1: My name is nellie and i go by she/her

2: i’m very super feminine i love pink, cats, bows, u get the idea lol

3: i’d say im introverted but i come out of my shell a little when im with my friends, im also shy i dont like talking to new people i prefer just to stick with the ppl im most comfortable with, id like to think im funny im not a very serious person only in situations where i need to be hahah, im also very sarcastic like vERY sarcastic, my coping skills would probably be making jokes, like i said im not a very serious person so when something goes wrong i try to lift everyone up.

4: my hobbies are drawing, dancing, fashion, singing, cooking, listening to music, learning new languages and shopping :)

5: my biggest pet peeve is when someone cannot admit they are wrong, it genuinely irks me soo bad i hate hard headed people.

6: my ideal partner is someone loving and caring, laughs at all my jokes, is there for me even when it gets hard, loyal, supportive, and kind hearted. looks don’t matter much to me as long as u have a good personality and kind heart. but he has to be tall lol. my ideal first date is honestly anything. you can take me anywhere as long as we’re having fun and have connection it doesn’t matter :)

7: i honestly have no idea? maybe physical touch and gift giving, i love buying people things it makes me happy hahaha

8: my style is very girly, sun dresses, skirts, high heels, sandals all that kinda stuff. but i also am kinda tomboyish sometimes haha it depends on my mood.

9: i’m Romanian American, i speak english and romanian ofc and im currently learning korean:) i would also love to travel the world someday especially paris and korea they’re beautiful countries and i would love to visit them one day! im 5’5 i have black hair and brown eyes and i also have braces haha

10: nsfw or sfw is fine i honestly don’t mind :)

tysm!!

(i sent one in while it wasn’t finished yet so just ignore it haha😭)

lots of love 🤍🤍

for nellie

i match you with...

kwon jiyong

you and jiyong are a match made in heaven!

your humor is what catches jiyong's attention

he loves how high-spirited you are because he feels as though there's not enough spontaneity in the world nowadays

jiyong is always awe-stricken by how you try to make every moment into a good one, despite hardships that may arise.

you love cats you say? well good for you because he will drag you to his apartment just so you can meet zoa and iye

when you finally meet them, he takes a step back and lets you play with them and pet them

and just know that he will most definitely take pictures of you with them, smiling as he does so

he even gets jealous of how much they seem to love you

"zoa! iye!" he says in an attempt to get their attention, but to no avail. "they love you more than their own appa! unbelievable..." he says jokingly in defeat.

he loves hearing you talk about your interests and would listen to you talk for ages if it were up to him

he LOVES seeing your drawings and seeing the intent behind your concepts of a new illustration since he is a very conceptual person himself

"you drew all of these, jagi? they're amazing!" he beams in shock as he flips through your sketchbook before kissing you on the lips.

jiyong can't help but admire the way you take interest in fashion

he especially loves how fluid your outfits are, whether you dress more feminine or even more on the tomboy side

he can never take his eyes off of you because he finds you to be

jiyong enjoys buying you new clothes despite your protests because he's a gift giver at heart <3

coincidentally enough, he feels really guilty when you get him gifts

"oh jagi, you didn't have to..." he trails as he opens your gift. "but i wanted to," you say with a smile.

ji is a FIEND when it comes to physical touch

he loves cuddling with you and softly kissing you (mostly on your hands, cheeks, lips, forehead, and neck).

especially when you do the same for him

he's fascinated with your cultural background and loves learning more about it

jiyong adores that you're learning korean because it makes him feel closer to you

he knows that you want to travel the world and what better way to do that than surprising you with tickets to paris?

"ji, is this for real?" you say with teary eyes as you look at the two first class tickets he just handed you. "i've never been more serious, jagi," he says with a smile before you kiss him passionately.

if it's paris fashion week, he'll take you along so you can see all the fashion and maybe even spark some inspiration for your love of drawing

he knows all of the good spots in paris since he's been there so many times, which makes for many unforgettable date nights <3

he's a cheesy person at heart, so you best believe he's gonna kiss you at the eiffel tower

you tease him about it which makes him blush uncontrollably

"i'm never letting you live this down, kwon jiyong"

#ari’s matchmaking special ✿#bigbang #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong fluff #gdragon #g dragon #g dragon x reader

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pinkmoontaco · 3 months ago

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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. 😏

556 notes · View notes

gdinthehouseee · 4 months ago

Text

224: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: after being indecisive on the design, you finally get a matching tattoo with ji-yong

word count: 2504

tags: fluff, flirting, smau bonus - (if you have tattoos we'll pretend this was your first ever tattoo, for the plot ofc) also your usernames are within the images :pp

“You know,” Ji-yong muses, tracing lazy circles on your arm as you lay tangled together on the couch, “I still think we should get matching tattoos.”

You roll your eyes with a small laugh. “You’ve been saying that for months.”

“Because I mean it.” He props himself up on his elbow, watching you with that signature smirk—the one that always spells trouble. “I’m covered in them, and you still don’t have a single one. It’s kind of unfair.”

“You say that like I haven’t wanted one,” you argue, nudging his chest. “I’m just… picky. If I’m going to have something on my body forever, it has to be perfect.”

He hums, nodding like he understands, but then his lips curl mischievously. “Oh, I know you’re picky. That’s why I’m mentally preparing myself for the five-hour deliberation when we finally go.”

You scoff. “It won’t take five hours.”

“Mm. No, you’re right. Six hours at least.”

You swat at him, and he laughs, catching your wrist before lacing your fingers together. “I’m just saying,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “you overthink things, and I think this is one of those times you don’t have to. It’s about meaning, not just aesthetics.”

You exhale slowly, your fingers idly playing with the chain around his neck. “That’s the thing, though. I want it to mean something. If I get a tattoo, I don’t want to regret it in ten years.”

He studies you for a moment, his expression shifting from playful to soft. “I get that,” he says, voice quieter now. “That’s why I want to get something with you. Because I know I’d never regret it.”

You and Ji-yong have never needed grand gestures to prove what you already know—you're in this for life. It’s something you’ve both made clear, in whispered confessions late at night, in the way his fingers always find yours in a crowded room, in the unshakable certainty that no matter what, you’d always choose each other. Marriage is definitely in the cards, something you’ve talked about more than once, not as a distant "what if" but as an inevitable when. But a tattoo? That’s something different. Something permanent in a way that even rings aren’t, ink pressed into skin as a quiet, unwavering promise. If you were going to do this—if—you wanted it to be right. You wanted it to truly mean something.

Your heart clenches at the sincerity in his tone, but before you can dwell on it too much, he smirks again. “But since you’re the most indecisive person on the planet, I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

You raise a brow, already suspicious. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“I was thinking... tiny cartoon dragons.”

A groan slips from your lips as you shove his face away, making him laugh. “Ji-yong, no. If I’m getting my first tattoo, it’s not going to be a cartoon dragon.”

“Okay, okay, how about this?” He shifts, pulling out his phone. “We could get something cool—like a symbol, maybe. Or lyrics from a song.” He scrolls through images for a moment before holding up a picture of a delicate script tattoo. “Something simple, like this?”

You tilt your head, considering it. “I like that, but… I don’t know.”

“See?” He grins, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Picky.”

“Thoughtful,” you correct, flicking his forehead.

He chuckles, tucking his face against your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Same thing.”

You smile softly, the idea still floating in your mind. You do want a tattoo, but you want it to be right. Something that matters, something that’s yours. And knowing Ji-yong, he’ll wait as long as you need.

“Alright,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss just below your jaw. “I’ll be patient—for now. But the second you figure it out, I’m taking you straight to the shop. No second-guessing.”

You shake your head, amused. “We’ll see about that.”

His lips brush against your skin again, warm and teasing. “Mark my words, jagiya. One day, you’ll be the one begging me to go first.”

You scoff, but the thought lingers in your mind long after the conversation ends. Maybe he’s right. Maybe one day will be sooner than you think. For the entire week following said conversation, you were kept awake by all the different design possibilities—including everything wrong with them, critiquing every Pinterest board you came across, analysing them like you were a professional.

Like the previous few nights: it’s late—one of those nights where the world outside feels distant, the only sounds in the room are the slow hum of the air conditioning and Ji-yong’s steady breathing beside you. You should be sleeping, but instead, you’re lying on your back, phone in hand, scrolling through tattoo ideas for what feels like the hundredth time.

Ji-yong shifts, his arm tightening around your waist as he buries his face against your shoulder. “You’re thinking too hard again,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. “I can hear it.”

You let out a breathy laugh, locking your phone and setting it aside. “You can hear me thinking?”

“Yes,” he groans, shifting onto his elbow to squint at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s loud. Annoyingly loud.”

You roll onto your side to face him, resting your cheek against the pillow. “Well, I can’t help it. This is permanent—I want to get it right.”

He sighs dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “This is worse than when you take an hour to pick a restaurant.”

“Excuse me, that’s an important decision,” you argue. “I need to weigh all my options.”

“It’s food.”

“It’s life or death.”

He huffed a laugh, then pokes your forehead lightly. “See? This is exactly what I mean. You’re gonna think yourself into oblivion if you don’t chill.” He drags you closer until your head is against his chest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes along your back. “We could get anything, and it wouldn’t change a thing. You and me? We’re already forever. Today, tomorrow, and every day after that.”

That’s it! Something clicks in your mind, the way puzzle pieces snap into place. You sit up slightly, your fingers gripping his shirt. “Ji-yong.”

He hums, eyes half-closed. “Mm?”

“What about 224?”

His brows furrow. “224?”

You nod, heartbeat picking up. “Today, tomorrow, forever.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then—his eyes widen slightly, like the meaning is settling in, like it’s really hitting him. He blinks. “Wait.” A slow, almost disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “You came up with this?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grins, propping himself up on one elbow. “I mean, I’ve been watching you spiral for days over this, and now you suddenly come up with something perfect? My words finally got through to you, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “I hate that you’re right.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he repeats the numbers under his breath. “224… today, tomorrow, forever...” Then, suddenly, his expression shifts—his brows lift slightly, his lips parting as if something just hit him. He shoots up, sitting fully upright now, eyes wide.

“Oh my god.”

You blink, startled. “What?”

Ji-yong grabs your hands, his excitement bubbling over. “Two plus two plus four!”

“What?”

“It adds up to eight!” His grip tightens as he shakes your hands a little, like he can’t contain himself. “Eight!”

You blink again. “And?”

He looks borderline offended. “Aein. Eight is my number.”

Realization washes over you. You’ve known about his obsession with the number for years—the symbol of his recent comeback. And now, your number ties into it.

Ji-yong laughs, running a hand through his hair as he stares at you, looking completely smitten. “This is fate. You—” He cuts himself off, then groans dramatically. “You’re gonna make me fall in love with you all over again.”

You laugh. “Now you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m serious!” He cups your face, tilting it up so you can see just how much he means it. “224. Eight. You and me, forever.”

You grin, warmth spreading through your chest. “So we’re doing it?”

“Oh, we’re definitely doing it.” His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one swift motion. “And I’m making sure everyone knows you came up with it, but I made it iconic.”

You snort, swatting at his chest. “You are unbearable.”

Ji-yong smirks, leaning in to kiss you—slow, deep, certain. But he doesn’t stop at just one kiss. The moment he has you in his lap, his lips are everywhere—pressing soft, lingering kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, the tip of your nose. He hums against your skin, grinning between each press of his lips, murmuring little praises like, "My smart girl," and "how did I get so lucky?" Before capturing your lips again. His hands keep you close, fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your back, as if he can’t bear to let go. When he pulls away just enough to catch his breath, he takes one look at your dazed expression and dives back in, peppering kisses along your collarbone, your shoulder, up the curve of your neck, until you're giggling, overwhelmed by the sheer warmth of his affection.

The excitement lingers between you both for days, the decision feeling more perfect with each passing moment. When the appointment finally arrives, Ji-yong insists on making a whole day out of it—because, of course, he does.

You find yourselves at a sleek, upscale tattoo studio, the kind that feels both exclusive and effortlessly cool, much like him. Ji-yong has been here before—he greets the artist like an old friend, all easy smiles and playful banter, while you stand there, heart pounding just a little. He catches your hesitation immediately. His fingers brush against yours before lacing them together, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Nervous?” he asks, tilting his head with that knowing smirk.

You sigh, shifting slightly on your feet. “Maybe a little. I mean, it’s my first tattoo.”

He grins. “And I get to be part of it. I get to be your first.” He leans in, voice dipping playfully. “You sure you can handle that, jagiya?”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder. “You make everything sound suggestive.”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m just saying, it’s a big deal.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple before nudging you toward the tattoo chair. “Come on, let’s make history.”

The artist preps everything, and before long, the stencil of 224 is placed on your skin, just beneath your wrist. You stare at it, taking in the simple yet meaningful numbers. It already feels like a part of you.

Ji-yong watches you carefully, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your other wrist. “Looks good?”

You nod, exhaling. “Yeah. More than good.”

He grins, looking genuinely proud. “Then let’s do this.”

When the needle touches your skin, you brace yourself—but Ji-yong is right there, his hand never leaving yours, his voice low and reassuring. “You’re doing so good,” he murmurs, squeezing your fingers lightly. “Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Says the guy covered in tattoos.”

“Fair.”

When it’s his turn, he barely even flinches, watching with an easy, satisfied smile as the same numbers are inked into his skin. When it’s done, he lifts his arm beside yours, comparing the matching tattoos with a pleased hum.

“Perfect,” he says simply. Then, he turns to you, eyes softening. “Just like us.”

Your heart swells. And when he kisses you right there in the chair, not caring about the artist’s amused snort, you know there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side—today, tomorrow, forever.

The buzz of adrenaline from getting the tattoo still lingers as you step out of the shop, his fingers laced with yours once again, his grip warm and steady. He swings your joined hands between you as he smirks down at your fresh ink. “We did it. Matching tattoos. No going back now, baby.”

You glance up at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Oh, I don’t know… I hear laser removal is pretty advanced these days.”

His mouth drops open in exaggerated offense. “Excuse me?”

You bite back a smile, shrugging. “I mean, if you ever get sick of me—”

He cuts you off immediately, tugging you flush against him. “Not a damn chance,” he murmurs, voice low and certain. “You’re stuck with me now. Today, tomorrow, forever, remember?”

Your heart flips, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand that easily. Smirking, you trace your fingers along the collar of his jacket. “Guess I should start thinking about what other permanent marks I wanna leave on you, then.”

His eyes darken just slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh, now we’re talking.”

Dinner is at one of your favorite spots, a place tucked away from prying eyes, where dim lighting and soft music make everything feel intimate. Ji-yong insists on ordering for both of you, leaning across the table with his usual confidence. “Trust me, I know exactly what you need.”

And, annoyingly, he’s right. The food is perfect.

Midway through the meal, you glance down at your hand resting on the table, the fresh tattoo peeking out from under your sleeve. The sight of it still feels surreal—permanent proof of something that was never in question. You reach for your phone, snapping a quick picture before turning to Ji-yong. “Should I post it?”

His eyes light up instantly. “You want to?”

You shrug, smirking. “Well, I mean… it’d be kind of cruel not to let everyone lose their minds over it.”

He grins, leaning forward with clear excitement. “Oh, I love when you’re the troublemaker.”

Laughing, you tap out a caption, keeping it simple but meaningful.

As soon as you hit post, your phone explodes with notifications. Fans are already freaking out, but the real fun starts when you notice familiar names popping up in the comments.

Ji-yong, who has been watching you with amusement, leans over slightly. “Alright, who’s losing it the most?”

You scroll through, grinning. “Let’s see…”

Daesung: I knew it. You two are disgusting. (Also, congrats 😭❤️)

CL: Finally. My favorite power couple stays winning.

ROSE: 224… I’m emotional. This is beautiful.

Seunghyun: A timeless commitment. Very fitting.

Minzy: Love is real 😭💜

Taeyang: Ok but who cried first? Be honest.

Ji-yong snorts at that last one. “Should I comment back and expose you?”

You shoot him a look. “Me? Don’t even try it. You were the one getting all sentimental about forever first.”

“That’s because I meant it.”

Your heart does that annoying little flip again, and before he can tease you for it, you shake your head, grinning as you type a response to Taeyang:

You already know it was him.

“Wow. Betrayal.”

You just laugh, sliding your phone across the table. “Here, go defend your honor.”

Instead of taking it, he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “Nah,” he murmurs. “I’ve got better things to do.”

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull

#kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon #gdragon x reader #bigbang #bigbang x reader #fluff #tattoo #kpop x reader #kpop

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mashtatosworld · 4 months ago

Text

everything i wanted

a happy one

summary: in which the timing is never quite right... but when is it ever?

The news had been weighing on you for days now.

It settled in your bones, in the space between your ribs, heavy and unmoving - something both miraculous and terrifying. You carried it alone, waking with it in the quiet hours before dawn, feeling the enormity of it press against your lungs.

You had always told yourself you would wait until the time was right.

And now, of all times, the universe had decided for you.

Jiyong’s voice filters in from across the apartment, muffled by the sound of rain tapping against the windows. He’s on the phone, pacing, his tone light - excited. You don’t have to ask what it’s about.

"It’s happening." He had told you just last night, eyes shining with something electric. "The world tour, the comeback - the label is ready to announce it tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

By this time tomorrow, he would be standing in front of the cameras, smiling that dazzling, untouchable smile, telling the world he was finally coming back. His dream - the thing he had bled for, sacrificed for - was finally within reach.

And you...

You were about to change everything.

Your fingers gently ran over soft grey fur, petting the purring cat lying contently on your stomach.

"Do you already know?" You asked the furry creature with a bemused smile. She'd been more clingy in recent weeks, always sitting on you instead of her usual perch on Jiyong. "Can you tell him for me?"

"Tell me what?"

He walks into the room, still scrolling through his phone. Even in the dim light, he looks radiant - sharp jawline, delicate features, his presence effortlessly magnetic.

His life has always been so big. So much bigger than this quiet apartment, bigger than this moment.

"Are you feeding her treats without me?" He reached over you to pick Zoa up and hold her like a baby. "Or do you just not like Appa anymore? Hmm?" He asked the calm feline.

You stared at him as he cooed and fussed over your shared pet. He'd always made it clear he wanted children, even before you had started dating.

His fame had made it difficult for him to achieve that, and then after, when he settled down and met you, you weren't ready to give up your career yet - a decision your partner was happy to support. But now he'd chosen to return to the spotlight once again...

"Jagi?" His voice is soft when he looks up at you. Then, his brows furrow slightly. He settles Zoa on the back of the sofa and she runs off, as if sensing her parents need a private moment. Traitor.

"You okay?"

No.

You are standing at the edge of something irreversible.

But there is no right time. There never was.

So you force yourself to inhale, to steady your voice.

"Ji..."

Something in your tone makes him stop completely. His fingers are white as they grip the back of the expensive couch - a low, white wall between you.

"What is it?"

Your throat closes. The words sit heavy on your tongue, too large to force out all at once.

"I'm - " You exhale shakily. "I'm pregnant."

A breath.

A pause.

For a moment, the world outside goes silent - the rain, the distant hum of the city, the weight of time itself.

Jiyong doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His eyes, dark and unreadable, remain locked onto yours.

You brace for anything. A frown, a sigh, the subtle shift of disappointment in his face.

But instead - he just breathes.

"Say it again." His voice is quiet. Unsteady.

You swallow. Your fingers press into your palms, grounding yourself.

"I'm pregnant."

This time, you hear his breath catch. His chest rises - slow, deep, as if trying to take in the moment all at once.

Then, finally, he moves.

Not toward you, but away.

He exhales sharply, turning, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. You watch his back, your heart tightening with every second that passes.

This was a mistake.

The timing is wrong. You should have waited. Should have given him more time, let him have this moment before burdening him with -

Then, just as the thought grips you, he turns back.

And there, on his face -

Not frustration. Not hesitation.

But something so raw, so unfiltered, that it steals the breath from your lungs.

His eyes shine with something you cannot name.

And when he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

The word barely leaves your lips before he’s walking around the sofa, reaching for you, hands framing your face so gently, so reverently, as if he’s afraid you might break beneath his touch.

He laughs - a quiet, disbelieving sound, shaking his head. But his eyes betray him, glistening in the dim light, pupils blown wide with something uncontainable.

"Jagi...we're going to have a baby,"

The way he says it - so tenderly - sends something sharp through you.

You nod, pressing your lips together to keep them from trembling. "I know the timing is terrible -"

"Don’t." His hands tighten slightly, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Don’t say that."

Your lashes flutter. "Jiyong - "

"Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?" His voice wavers. "How long I’ve - " He exhales shakily, closing his eyes for a moment, as if trying to steady himself.

Then, his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you against him, holding you as if you might slip away.

"This is everything I’ve ever wanted."

And just like that, the weight in your chest finally lifts.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

i have a sad version of this title in the works 🌝

#gdragon #kwon jiyong #bigbang #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #fluff #kpop #mashtatosworld

472 notes · View notes

steponupbabe · 6 days ago

Text

Track 05

Pairing: 2000s!Kwon Jiyong x Fem!Reader

Summary: jiyong gives you a CD, and you come to find out it’s a confession.

Trope: friends to lovers.

Warnings: none.

───────── ༺♡༻ ────────

It started with a CD.

Not just any CD. A silver one with a smudged Sharpie label that read:

“summer mix // don’t judge me.”

You found it stuffed in your school locker one rainy Tuesday, tucked inside a case with an orange Post-it stuck to the front.

From: Ji (yeah, I made it. yeah, it’s kinda lame.)

That was Kwon Jiyong for you. Confident in the spotlight but secretly soft behind the curtain. Your best friend since middle school. The one who passed you folded lyrics in class and called you at 1AM on a school night just to ask if a beat sounded better in C minor or D major.

And somewhere between those long nights and quiet bus rides, he’d become your favorite part of the day.

༺♡༻

Jiyong was already different from everyone else. While your classmates were stressing about exams or SNS profiles, he was scribbling verses in his math notebook, beatboxing under his breath, or running off to YG after school with headphones dangling around his neck.

But he always made time for you.

Every Friday, like clockwork, you’d meet at the little ramen shop near the bus station. He’d get spicy, you’d get mild, and he’d sneak a boiled egg and a fish cake into your bowl like he always did.

That day, though, he was quieter.

“You didn’t listen to it yet, did you?” he asked between bites, flicking a noodle at your arm when you hesitated.

“I was going to! I just…” You said smiling softly—then you paused. “Was scared it was, like, a confession or something.”

He choked on his drink, fanning his face, eyes slightly wide.

You laughed as he coughed, red in the face, hiding behind his hand. “You wish,” he said, grinnging. But his ears turned the same shade as the kimchi.

You didn’t say it, but maybe you wished too.

༺♡༻

You finally listened to the CD that night.

Track 01 was a beat he made from scratch—looped synths and soft drums, layered under a muffled voice clip of him saying “for her, but don’t tell her.”

Track 02 Usher. Track 03 was Destiny’s child. Track 04? Neyo.

But Track 05 was what made you sit straight up in bed, breath hitched and eyes slightly widening.

It was him. Just him. Singing, rough around the edges, like he recorded it late at night with a blanket over his head—but full of something warm. The lyrics weren’t polished. They didn’t rhyme half the time. But they were about you.

Your laugh. Your walk. The way you always double-knot your shoelaces.

And that line—

“If I make it, I want her to be the first to hear.”

You held the CD case against your chest and smiled until your cheeks hurt.

༺♡༻

The next morning, you cornered him at the bus

stop.

“You said it wasn’t a confession.”

He blinked. “It’s not.”

“Then what is it?”

“…a draft?”

You hit him lightly on the chest. “Idiot.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d actually get to Track 05. I was gonna burn a new version and delete that one.”

“But I heard it.”

He didn’t look at you. “Yeah. I figured.”

The bus rumbled up to the curb, and you stepped closer, heart hammering in your ears.

“I liked it,” you said quietly.

His eyes finally met yours. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Especially the part where you said you’d let me hear it first.”

He smiled, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “Then… when I debut someday, will you be there?”

“Only if I get front row.”

“You can have backstage,” he murmured, softer now. “Forever, if you want.”

You blinked. “Jiyong…”

He suddenly looked nervous. “Too much?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Just right.”

───────── ༺♡༻ ────────

A/n: ahhh first part of my series is done :D i love 2000s jiyong and there’s barely any fics so i decided to take matters into my own hands hehe hope u enjoy 🥰

#bigbang #kwon jiyong #gdragon #2000s! jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #friends to lovers #confession #sweet #fluff #kwon jiyong fluff #jiyong

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jiyongsangel · 2 days ago

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Comment if you want to be added to my tag list xoxo

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natalicss · 5 months ago

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Like We Were In Paris

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live

warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!

word count: 4.1K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!

You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.

You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.

From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.

You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.

It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.

Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe.

Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes.

Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).

When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know.

Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour.

Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.

The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend.

The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you.

“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go.

The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.

But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him.

“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.

“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch.

He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.”

You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything.

“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.

“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room.

Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye. “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.

Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.

Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him.

As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.

“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”

“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.

You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.

“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”

“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”

“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.

You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush.

When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars.

Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.

Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love.

Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it.

He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.

He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there.

As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.

And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.

It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.

“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect.

“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong #gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon fanfic #kwon jiyong fanfic #fanfic #x reader #kpop fluff

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loveesiren · 20 days ago

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ℜ𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔗𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔬

Kwon Jiyong x f!reader

a/n: I'm sorry I'm so rusty and this is so ass lol but I made my dog listen to this song on repeat on my drive home from work and it just inspired me to write some stupid lil fluff. I wanted to post something to convince myself I can still write. Sorry its bad lol I'm overwhelmed rn. if you enjoy please leave a comment. I will write better soon ugh

song: rose tattoo - dropkick murphy's

wc: 2.6k+

warnings: alcohol, drunk tattoos

“That was fucking awesome!” Jiyong groaned as he collapsed onto the velvet couch backstage, his body still buzzing with adrenaline. He ran a hand through his damp hair and took a long swig from his water bottle, letting his head fall back with a blissful sigh. His black tank top clung to him, soaked with sweat, and his heart still pounded in his chest from the high of performing.

“No one told me Ireland parties so hard…” Daesung said through a breathless laugh, toweling off his face. His hair stuck up in different directions, and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

“They’re wild out there,” Youngbae added, chugging from his water bottle before plopping down on the floor and leaning against the couch. “The crowd was insane.”

Jiyong’s eyes lit up. “We have to go out tonight! Celebrate!”

Youngbae raised an eyebrow at him. “Celebrate what?”

Jiyong didn’t hesitate. His smile widened, softening in a way only they recognized. “Our last night in Europe. And… we’ve got a whole week off. No planes. No soundchecks. No stage makeup. Just sleep, good food, and—” His eyes turned dreamy. “—I get to see Y/n.”

The others groaned, but Jiyong didn’t care. His thoughts had already drifted back to you. The way your voice sounded on late-night calls. The blurry selfies you’d send when you missed him. The scent of your shampoo lingering on his clothes when he unpacked.

Seunghyun rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jiyong had been with you for six months, but he talked about you like he’d loved you for years. And maybe he had—just hadn’t met you yet. Seunghyun had seen Jiyong fall hard before, but this was different. You weren’t just some pretty distraction. You grounded him. Balanced out the chaos in his head.

He nudged Jiyong with his knee. “So what’s the plan, lover boy?”

Jiyong looked at them all with the fire of a man on a mission. “Drink with the Irish!”

The bar they stumbled into wasn’t the kind of place that catered to tourists. It was tucked on a side street, warm and dim, filled with heavy wooden tables, worn leather stools, and an old jukebox humming in the corner. Locals filled every seat, pints in hand, shouting over traditional music that played on a loop. It smelled like aged wood, beer, and something hearty simmering in the back.

Perfect.

No one recognized them, not really—not the older patrons, anyway. The bartender, a gruff older man with thick hands and a thick accent, didn’t flinch when Jiyong ordered a round of whiskey for the table. If anything, he seemed to appreciate the enthusiasm.

They downed their shots, the Jameson burning pleasantly down their throats, and the laughter came easily. They recounted ridiculous moments from the tour—wardrobe malfunctions, mic failures, Jiyong tripping over a stage monitor in Berlin and somehow turning it into a dance move. Every story spun them further into a haze of warmth and nostalgia.

Seunghyun sat back, watching his best friend with quiet amusement. Jiyong’s cheeks were pink now, and his eyes had gone soft and unfocused—not from the alcohol alone, but from the way he kept slipping your name into every other sentence.

“Y/n would love this bar,” he murmured at one point, twirling his glass by the rim. “She always says divey places have better energy. She’d probably be talking to that old couple over there by now. She just… connects with people like that.”

A fond smile curved his lips as he stared at nothing in particular. “I’ve been counting down the days to see her. She sent me this stupid video this morning—just her brushing her teeth and humming our song. But it made my whole day. Like, fuck the sold-out show. I just want to hear her laugh in person again.”

Daesung chuckled. “You’re so gone, man.”

“I am,” Jiyong said without shame, lifting his glass. “I’m fucking gone for her.”

Eventually, the whiskey had found its way into every vein, numbing limbs and loosening tongues. The bar had emptied slightly, the once-rowdy crowd thinning into pockets of quiet laughter and half-empty pint glasses. Youngbae was slumped forward at the table, head resting on folded arms, barely clinging to consciousness. Seunghyun had wandered outside for a smoke, needing air and space. Daesung was lost in animated conversation with an older Irish gentleman who reminded him of someone’s grandpa—laughing heartily and clinking glasses like old friends.

Which meant, of course, no one had been keeping an eye on Jiyong.

Tucked in the far corner of the pub, half-lit by a dim wall sconce, he sat grinning beside a stranger. The man was from London, maybe mid-thirties, rough around the edges, with inked knuckles and a travel-worn bag that doubled as a tattoo kit. He smelled faintly of cigarettes and antiseptic and was currently dragging a needle across the top of Jiyong’s left hand.

“How long ya been with her?” the man asked, his voice low and crackly as he wiped away excess ink.

Jiyong’s eyes didn’t leave his phone screen. Your face smiled up at him from the lock screen—a silly selfie you’d sent the morning after he left for tour. Your cheeks were puffy, hair tangled, eyes barely open. You were brushing your teeth with his sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder. It had made him cry the first time he saw it.

“Six months,” Jiyong murmured, heart softening. “But it feels like forever, man. She’s… fuck, she’s the love of my life.”

There was a raw, aching honesty in his voice—drunken, yes, but completely sincere.

His throat tightened as he blinked down at your photo. The distance between you wasn’t new, but tonight it felt especially unbearable. He missed your warmth, your voice humming in the dark, the way you’d touch his arm just to ground him. He missed your laugh, the way it shook your whole body when something really caught you off guard.

He missed you. All of you.

His eyes welled again.

“Oi, don’t cry now,” the man said, clearly unsure how to handle it. “Here. Have another shot, yeah? You’ll see her tomorrow.”

Jiyong nodded as he accepted the glass, knocking it back and letting the burn distract him from the knot in his chest. “Three weeks,” he whispered. “It’s been three weeks. And I’ve felt her absence every damn second.”

“Well she’ll bloody love this, mate,” the man said with a smirk, finishing the last strokes of the small rose and your name scrawled beneath it in sharp cursive. The ink was rudimentary—far from professional—but it was clear. Personal and permanent.

Jiyong stared at it with glassy eyes. The skin was red, slightly swollen, smeared with blood and ink. But there it was. Your name. On his hand. Close to his pulse. A promise etched into flesh.

“She’s always with me now,” he said softly, smiling.

“Jiyong, what the hell are you doing?” Youngbae’s voice cut through the haze as he stumbled over. Seunghyun followed right behind, a cloud of smoke still clinging to his coat.

“This is the best tattoo I’ve ever gotten!” Jiyong beamed, lifting his hand like a child showing off a finger painting.

“I’m Luke!” the British man offered with a peace sign.

Neither Youngbae nor Seunghyun acknowledged him. They were too focused on the sloppy mess of ink and blood seeping from Jiyong’s hand.

“Dude,” Youngbae hissed, grabbing his wrist carefully. “This is gonna get infected!”

“No it’s not,” Jiyong argued, clutching his hand to his chest.

“Pour some whiskey on it!” Luke slurred proudly, then immediately tilted the nearly empty Jameson bottle over Jiyong’s hand like he was salting a steak.

“Aishh, shibal!” Jiyong hissed, jerking back in pain.

“That’s it. We’re going back to the hotel,” Seunghyun said, not even giving Jiyong the option. He grabbed him by the arm, and Jiyong let himself be hauled up, still waving at Luke.

“Thanks, man! You’re a legend!” he yelled, flinging a crumpled bill over his shoulder.

Back at the hotel, the bathroom lights buzzed softly while steam fogged the mirror. Jiyong sat in the empty bathtub, shirtless, soaked with alcohol and happiness, while Youngbae knelt beside him like a tired nurse, scrubbing at his hand with way too much precision for someone who had been nearly unconscious an hour ago.

Seunghyun paced nearby, arms crossed and fuming. “Why the hell would you let some drunk guy in a bar tattoo you?”

Jiyong shrugged, eyes heavy and unfocused. “He offered.”

Seunghyun stared. “You do realize her name is on you. Forever. On your hand, Jiyong.”

Jiyong giggled. “Good.”

Youngbae sighed. “You two haven’t even gone public yet, man. If fans see this—”

“Let them see it.” Jiyong interjected.

“At least he spelled her name right…” Youngbae muttered, pressing a cloth gently over the skin. “Still, this is gonna need a serious touch-up when it heals.”

Jiyong lifted his hand, his vision swimming slightly, and stared at it. The ink was messy, and the rose wasn’t even symmetrical. But your name stood out clear and proud. It didn’t need to be perfect. It was real.

“She means everything to me,” he murmured. “This… this one means the most. It stays here. For eternity.”

And then, with a dopey smile and one last look at your face on his screen, he let his eyes close and drifted off to sleep, your name resting on his heart—inked in his skin, etched in his soul.

Getting Jiyong onto the plane that morning was nothing short of a mission. He was groggy, half-delirious from the hangover, and very much dead weight. Youngbae had ended up tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of rice while Seunghyun coaxed a still-chatty Daesung away from a local woman he’d befriended at the airport bar.

By some miracle, they made it to their first-class seats in one piece. Jiyong immediately slumped back into his seat with a deep groan, pulling the blanket over his head like a sulking child.

Seunghyun rolled his eyes and settled in beside him, just as Jiyong’s phone started buzzing in his lap.

“Y/n’s calling you,” Seunghyun said, glancing down at the screen before nudging him.

Jiyong shot upright like he’d been electrocuted, fumbling clumsily for the phone—only to drop it straight to the floor. “Shit—fuck—wait—”

With a long-suffering sigh, Seunghyun bent down and retrieved it, sliding his thumb across the screen. “Hey, Y/n! Your boyfriend is nursing a world-class hangover,” he said, flipping the camera to reveal Jiyong, who was grinning like a fool beneath a blanket, his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy.

Jiyong struggled to bring up his left hand to wave at you, but Seunghyun caught him quickly, pressing it down discreetly to hide the tattoo.

“Baby! I miss you!” Jiyong cooed, voice still hoarse but full of warmth.

“I miss you too, Oppa,” you said through the screen, your smile melting his exhaustion in an instant. “Please try to sleep on the plane, okay?”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Seunghyun promised, flipping the camera back to himself.

You giggled when Jiyong scooted closer, resting his head on Seunghyun’s shoulder just to get back into the frame. His big, sleepy eyes blinked up at you, and you could see just how much he needed rest—but more than anything, you saw how much he needed you.

“Saranghae, Oppa!” you called, and then hung up before he could say anything else.

Two flights and what felt like a lifetime later, they landed in Seoul. Everyone was groggy, sore, and over it—except Jiyong. The moment his feet hit the ground, something inside him lit up.

“Hyung, where is he—?” Daesung began, looking around.

“He ran,” Seunghyun muttered, barely looking up from his phone.

Jiyong didn’t care about his bags, his entourage, or even the airport staff trying to usher him through a private exit. All he cared about was getting to you. His heart thudded in his chest like a war drum, and his legs didn’t stop moving until he was in the car, shouting your address at the startled driver.

The entire ride to your house, his leg bounced uncontrollably. He chewed on his nails. Stared out the window. Clutched his healing hand to his chest. He just needed to see you. Breathe you in. Make sure you were real again.

As soon as the car pulled into your driveway, he was out before it even stopped fully, bolting for your front door and leaving poor Jaeho to deal with your personal security.

“Jagiya! It’s me!” he called, pounding his fist against the door.

Inside, you dropped the ladle you’d been stirring soup with, the clang echoing through the house as you tore off your apron and sprinted for the door.

The moment it opened, the world disappeared.

“Ji!” you screamed, launching into his arms.

He caught you easily, wrapping you up with every ounce of longing he’d carried for the last three weeks. His face immediately buried into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin, pressing desperate kisses into the space where your pulse lived.

“God, baby…” he whispered, voice cracking. “I missed you so fucking much…”

His arms trembled slightly as he held you tighter. It wasn’t just relief—it was a kind of quiet desperation, the ache of missing someone so deeply that you swore your body forgot how to function without them.

You let him carry you to the couch like you weighed nothing, his body pressed flush against yours as he laid you down beneath him. His lips found your cheek, your jaw, your lips, and every sound you let out fueled him like oxygen.

As your hands moved over his body, you noticed something strange—his left hand was wrapped with gauze and medical tape.

“Ji… what happened?” you asked gently.

He paused, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh… that’s actually a surprise.”

“A surprise? You broke your hand?”

“No,” he laughed, kissing your nose. “Worse.”

He sat up a little, cradling your body with one arm as he used the other to gently unravel the bandages. The tape came off slowly, and then the gauze, revealing his tender, still-red skin.

And there it was.

Your name. Inked in bold, crooked lines beneath a simple rose.

“I was drunk,” he confessed sheepishly. “At a bar. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Some guy had a tattoo gun and… I said fuck it. I wanted your name on me. So you’d always be with me. Even when you’re not.”

You blinked down at the fresh ink, your chest tightening. The lines were imperfect, the skin around them swollen—but it was beautiful. He had carved your name into his skin. Because he missed you that much.

“Jiyong…” you whispered, fingers lightly brushing over it. “You know the whole world’s gonna know now, right?”

A slow, proud smile stretched across his face. “Yeah… and that brings me to my next souvenir.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, digging past his passport and crumpled receipts until he pulled out a small black box.

Your heart stopped.

He flipped it open.

Inside sat a diamond ring, elegant and radiant, the center stone catching the soft light like a promise.

“Will you marry me?”

For a second, the air froze. All you could hear was your heartbeat, and the sound of Jiyong’s breathing. He looked terrified. Hopeful. So stupidly in love.

Tears blurred your vision, but your smile never faltered.

“Yes!” you cried, tackling him back onto the couch, your arms wrapped tight around his neck. You kissed every part of his face you could reach—his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, his nose.

“I love you so much,” you said between kisses.

“I love you more than anything,” he replied, arms wrapped around you like he’d never let go again.

You pulled back just enough to look at his hand again, brushing your thumb over the healing ink. “I still can’t believe you got my name tattooed…”

“Signed and sealed with blood, baby,” he grinned. “Forever.”

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saymonsays · 2 months ago

Text

‎2 — Solving for X (and Maybe Love)

‎

pairing: kwon jiyong x reader

ep 1 | | ep 3

‎Summary: She’s a popular girl who hates math. He’s the quiet genius no one notices. When she’s forced to get tutoring—and he’s assigned as her tutor—their worlds crash into each other. She’d rather fail than accept help. He’d rather disappear than be noticed. It’s slow, it’s messy, it’s unspoken—but it’s real. In a classroom full of numbers, they might be solving for something they never expected: each other.

‎‎Tags: slow burn, highschool romance, opposites attract, art vs math, chaotic friendships, banter, wholesome chemistry, just fluff

‎

‎“Things I Can’t Say Out Loud”

‎

‎Empty Classroom – After School

‎

‎You were already at the desk, sketching absentmindedly in your notebook when Jiyong walked in.

‎

‎“Hey,” you said without looking.

‎

‎“Hey,” he echoed, quieter.

‎

‎He sat beside you, pulled out his books like always. But something felt… different. Slower. Warmer.

‎

‎After a few minutes of silent scribbling (you: a cat riding a skateboard, him: formulas), he cleared his throat.

‎

‎“I, uh…” he began.

‎

‎You looked up.

‎

‎“I wanted to say… thank you again. For the hallway. The other day.”

‎

‎You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t we go over this?”

‎

‎“I know. I just… I don’t say stuff like that. Not well.”

‎

‎You looked at him—really looked.

‎He wasn’t just quiet. He was careful. Like he had walls, not because he was cold—but because he’s been let down before.

‎

‎He opened his notebook, hesitated, then turned it toward you.

‎

‎Your eyes widened.

‎

‎There was a drawing on the page.

‎Sort of.

‎

‎It was… an attempt of a flower. Slightly lopsided. The petals were uneven, the stem was kind of a sad line, but the effort was there. Underneath it, in tiny neat letters:

“I tried. For you.”

‎

‎You stared at it. Then at him.

‎

‎“…You tried to draw for me?” you asked slowly.

‎

‎He nodded, not meeting your eyes.

‎

‎You bit your lip—hard—to stop yourself from smiling.

‎

‎“It’s awful,” you said gently.

‎

‎“I know,” he replied.

‎

‎“But it’s also…” You paused. “Kind of everything.”

‎

‎That made him glance up. His ears were red.

‎

‎You carefully tore out the page and tucked it into your sketchbook like it was a museum piece.

‎

‎“I’m keeping this forever.”

‎

‎“You really don’t have to—”

‎

‎“I’m absolutely going to.”

‎

‎And then, silence. The good kind. The kind where you both breathe at the same rhythm, even without meaning to.

‎

‎Jiyong opened his notebook again. Then stopped.

‎

‎“…Can I tell you something?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

‎

‎You turned to him, still holding the drawing like it was sacred. “You just did.”

‎

‎He smiled, just barely.

‎

‎“But yeah,” you added, softer now. “You can.”

‎

‎He looked down at his page, fingers tense.

‎

‎“…Sometimes, I feel like everyone’s talking around me. Not to me. Like I’m… invisible unless they need an answer.”

‎

‎You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you picked up your pen, flipped to a blank page, and drew something fast—simple, clean.

‎

‎It was a boy, hoodie up, surrounded by people. None of them saw him.

‎

‎But in the corner, a girl sat on a table, drawing.

‎And she was looking right at him.

‎

‎You turned the page to show him.

‎

‎“I see you,” you said.

‎

‎And in that moment, Jiyong didn’t need math to understand what that meant.

‎—————

‎School Library – Late Afternoon

‎

‎You weren’t supposed to be here this late.

‎But Saebom got detention (again), and the driver was late, and your phone was at 2%.

‎

‎So you were at your usual table, curled into a corner, sketching a wolf wearing sunglasses.

‎

‎And then—he walked in.

‎

‎Jiyong. Hoodie up, satchel slung across his chest, looking like a stray thought.

‎

‎He spotted you.

‎

‎Paused.

‎

‎You raised a brow. “This seat taken?”

‎

‎He didn’t answer. Just slid into the chair beside you.

‎

‎He smelled like fabric softener and pencil shavings. Familiar now. Comforting.

‎

‎“You draw everywhere,” he said after a while.

‎

‎“I exist everywhere,” you replied.

‎

‎He watched you draw in silence.

‎

‎And then—out of nowhere—he reached into his pencil case and pulled something out.

‎

‎A mechanical pencil.

‎But not just any. It was black and silver, sleek, fancy-looking.

‎

‎He placed it on the table between you.

‎

‎“What’s this?” you asked.

‎

‎“I thought… it might work better than the one you keep chewing on.”

‎

‎You looked at the pencil. Then at him.

‎

‎“…Is this a gift?”

‎

‎“No.”

‎

‎You tilted your head. “Feels like one.”

‎

‎“It’s just… a functional exchange.”

‎

‎You smiled, slow. “Right. Functional.”

‎

‎You picked it up, clicked it once. Twice. The sound filled the silence like thunder.

‎

‎“Don’t lose it,” he muttered.

‎

‎“Why?” you teased. “Is it precious?”

‎

‎He paused. Then, without looking at you:

‎“It was my brother’s.”

‎

‎The world paused.

‎

‎You stopped fidgeting with the pencil.

‎

‎“…You never told me you had a brother.”

‎

‎He nodded. “He’s… not around anymore.”

‎

‎You didn’t push. You didn’t say sorry, because some things don’t need apologies. They just need presence.

‎

‎So instead, you slid your sketchbook toward him.

‎

‎“Draw something.”

‎

‎He blinked. “We already went over this. I can’t draw.”

‎

‎You shrugged. “I still kept the flower, didn’t I?”

‎

‎Reluctantly, he took the pencil. Gripped it awkwardly.

‎

‎Then looked at you. “What should I draw?”

‎

‎You met his gaze.

‎

‎“Whatever you think of… when you think of me.”

‎

‎He froze.

‎

‎Dead silence.

‎Then—you.

‎

‎You felt the air shift. Like the room got smaller, warmer, closer.

‎

‎His eyes flicked down. The pencil started to move.

‎

‎After a minute, he turned the sketchbook back toward you.

‎

‎It was a mess. Scribbly lines. Crooked heart. A vague attempt of… sunglasses?

‎

‎“…Is this the wolf from earlier?” you asked.

‎

‎He nodded. “Cool. Unbothered. Not afraid of anything.”

‎

‎You looked at him.

‎

‎He wasn’t blushing.

‎

‎But he couldn’t meet your eyes, either.

‎

‎Your heart thudded. Loud. Stupid.

‎

‎“Okay,” you said, voice smaller than you meant.

‎

‎You closed the sketchbook, tucking it to your chest like it was gold.

‎

‎And he reached for the pencil—

‎—but you stopped him.

‎

‎“I’m borrowing this,” you said softly. “Indefinitely.”

‎

‎His lips twitched.

‎

‎“I didn’t say you could.”

‎

‎“You didn’t have to.”

‎

‎And for a second—just a second—he looked at you like you were the only thing real in the world.

—

Author's note: sorry this part is kind of short BUT I SWEAR THERE'S ANOTHER PART AFTER THIS LOL this was kind of rushed :')

‎

#kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong fic #gdragon x reader #g dragon x reader #gdragon #bigbang x reader #bigbang fluff #bigbang fanfic #kwon jiyong fluff

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