Summary: She's nervous, inexperienced, and trying to be professional. He's confident, teasing, and maybe falling faster than he expected.
Warnings: age gap (legal), angst, lack of communication, Power imbalance (I guess), Jiyong is kind of an asshole in this one
Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x reader
a/n: Okay, so weâre heading toward the end of this series, and I just want to say how thankful I am for every single one of you đ¤
As always, I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.
Also, I have to share this because Iâm ridiculously excited: I ordered the black MOTTE Act III T-shirt from the Japanese leg of the tour, and it arrived yesterday. It looks SO good and Iâm so happy I made the purchase.
Despite the earlier encounter still lingering at the back of your mind, practice is actually going well.
Better than well.
The time spent with Jiyong at his apartment and his lingering promise to come see you later, has done wonders for your mood. You feel lighter, more present in your own body, like something thatâs been knotted tight inside you has finally loosened.
You try not to think too hard about why.
When you arrive at Studio C, music is already thundering through the speakers, sharp and relentless, vibrating in your chest as bodies move in practiced unison.
You slip into the routine more easily than you have in days, finding your place without effort. Your shoulders roll loose, your muscles warm as you stretch, breath syncing naturally with the beat.
Hajoon is there too.
You spot him near the mirrors, laughing with someone, hair damp, posture loose in that annoyingly effortless way of his. When he notices you, he lifts a hand in greeting, smile open and warm.
âMorning,â he mouths.
You smile back. Despite everything, you still count him as a reliable friend.
Practice flows.
The choreography comes easily, counts landing exactly where they should. Your body remembers without needing to be pushed. Thereâs energy in you, bright, steady, like youâre finally dancing without carrying extra weight.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register that itâs because of Jiyong.
The thought barely has time to form before you push it aside. Itâs not worth unpacking, not now. You just let yourself enjoy the ease of it, even with the woman from this morning lingering faintly at the edges of your thoughts.
Halfway through, Hajoon leans in during a break.
âYouâre different today,â he says quietly. âIn a good way.â
You laugh, a little embarrassed. âAm I?â
âYeah,â he nods. âMore⌠grounded.â
The word settles warmly in your chest.
Lunch is light and loud, shared with a few other trainees. Someone makes a dumb joke. Someone else spills their drink. You find yourself laughing easily, the sound surprising even you.
For a while, everything feels simple.
The second practice session starts the same way, easy, energetic. You joke with Hajoon between sets, trading playful complaints about sore muscles. Your body keeps up without protest.
Then the door opens.
You donât see him at first.
You feel him.
The air in the room shifts, subtle but immediate, like something tightening. Conversations trail off. Someone straightens. The music feels louder all at once.
Jiyong steps inside.
Your stomach dips.
You catch his reflection in the mirror and smile at him. It's a small thing saying, you came, but his expression is closed, shoulders squared as he scans the room. He looks tense, wired thin in that particular way youâve learned to recognize.
You donât know why, but your smile falters. Â
The music starts again.
You dance. You know youâre dancing well. Your movements are clean, confident, exactly where they should be.
Still, you feel his eyes on you.
You laugh softly at something Hajoon mutters under his breath as you reset for the next section.
âStop.â
Jiyongâs voice cuts through the room.
The music dies instantly.
He steps forward, gaze locked on you.
âAgain,â he says. âFrom the top.â
You swallow and reset.
The energy in the room shifts, like a wire pulled taut. A few trainees straighten instinctively. Someone misses a step.
Jiyong moves to the back, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Donât overthink. Just dance.
But youâre suddenly very aware of Hajoon beside you. Of how close he is. Of the way he mirrors you too well, grinning when you hit a difficult section clean.
You push harder. Cleaner lines, sharper hits. Youâre determined to prove⌠what, exactly, youâre not sure.
Halfway through, Hajoon leans in slightly during a transition, murmuring, âNice save.â
Itâs barely audible.
You almost smile.
âStop.â
The music cuts again.
âWhat was that?â Jiyong asks. His voice is calm, but thereâs an underlying edge beneath it.Â
Your smile fades. âSorry?â
âThat last sequence,â he says. âYouâre sloppy.â
The word lands all wrong. Too harsh for how good you felt just seconds ago.
âI didnât mean to- â
âYouâre distracted,â he continues, stepping closer. âYouâre anticipating again.â
Heat floods your face. âI was just- â
âDonât,â he cuts in. âThis isnât the time to be casual.â
Casual.
You glance instinctively toward Hajoon. Heâs gone very still, avoiding your eyes, jaw tight.Â
Jiyong notices.
His own jaw tightens.Â
âIf you canât keep your focus during practice,â he says, almost offhandedly, Â âmaybe you need to rethink what youâre prioritizing.â
He doesnât stop there.
âYouâre not here to socialize,â he adds coolly. âIf you canât separate practice from everything else, thatâs a problem.â
Everything else.
The implication lands heavy.
The room is silent.
Something inside you sinks, sharp and sudden.
Your throat tightens. âI can.â
âThen show it,â he replies. âBecause right now, it looks careless.â
Careless.
âYes,â you say quietly, bowing your head. âI understand.â
But as the music starts again, the earlier energy is gone.
You dance harder than you ever have, chasing approval that feels just out of reach. Every correction feels sharper than necessary. Every glance from him weighs more than it should.
When it finally ends, your body aches in that deep, punishing way.
You look up at your reflection, searching the room for Jiyong.
All you catch is a flash of colour and a set of sharp but undeniably tired eyes, already turning away.Â
As you grab your things, Hajoon hesitates beside you.
âYou okay?â he asks quietly.
You nod automatically. âYeah.â
He looks like he wants to say more, then thinks better of it. âSee you.â
You donât see Jiyong again.Â
No check-in.
Not text.
Nothing.Â
And as you leave all you can think is:Â
How easily he dismantled something that had made you feel good, and how unfair it feels that he gets to react, to feel jealous or territorial or stressed, while youâre still not allowed to ask what any of this means.
How frighteningly easy it is for him to give you happiness and take it away again without even seeming to notice.
***
By the time you get home, itâs late enough that the hallway lights feel too bright.
Your body aches in that deep, lingering way that doesnât fade with a shower. Muscles sore, feet throbbing, throat tight from holding everything in all day. You kick off your shoes by the door and donât bother lining them up properly.
You donât have the energy.
Your bag slides off your shoulder and lands where it lands. You change into something soft, something worn thin with comfort, and collapse onto your bed like gravity finally remembered you exist.
For a moment, you just lie there, staring at the ceiling.
The day replays in fragments you donât want, his voice cutting through the studio, the way your smile died, the look he didnât give you when it ended.
You roll onto your side and grab your phone. Anything to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.
Just something mindless, you tell yourself. A drama youâve already half-watched. Something to fill the quiet.
The screen lights up your dark room.
You scroll without really looking. A few messages, nothing urgent. Notifications youâll answer tomorrow.
Your thumb keeps moving.
And thenâŚ
You stop.
Itâs a photo.
Canid, not posed, familiar.Â
Jiyong is there, jacket draped loose over his shoulders, hair pushed back in that careless way he only does when heâs comfortable. Misun sits close beside him, too close to be accidental. Her hand rests lightly on his arm, fingers curled like they belong there.
Heâs smiling.
Not the polite smile.
Not the public one.
The tired, genuine one. The one you saw this morning over coffee.
Your chest tightens.
You tap the photo before you can stop yourself.
Thereâs another.
And another.
Different angles, different moments. The same closeness.
They look easy together, comfortable, like this isnât new.
You scroll to the caption.
Nothing incriminating. Just a tag. A vague comment about late meetings and long days. About running into old friends. Laughing emojis from people you recognize. People who know him.
No one asks who she is. No one questions why theyâre together.
Your phone feels heavy in your hand.
You lock the screen and toss it onto the bed beside you, like it might burn.
For a long moment, you sit there in the dark, listening to the hum of the city outside your window.
Earlier today, youâd walked into practice feeling light, happy, almost steady.
And nowâŚ
Now it hits you all at once.
How easily he does this.
How effortlessly he lifts you up and how quickly he pulls the ground out from under you again, without even seeming to notice.Â
You press your face into your pillow, breathing slow and controlled, like youâre trying not to spook yourself.
Youâre overthinking, you tell yourself.
It doesnât mean anything.
But the thought doesnât settle.
Instead, another one slips in, quieter and far more dangerous.
What if youâre not the only place he goes to feel better.
You donât cry. You just lie there, exhausted and wired, the image burned behind your eyes, him smiling like that, with someone who doesnât have to guess where she stands.
Your phone buzzes sometime after midnight.
Youâre half-watching the drama on your laptop, volume low, eyes unfocused. You havenât really absorbed anything in the last hour, just let the dialogue wash over you while your thoughts loop lazily around things you donât want to name.
The vibration pulls your attention anyway and you glance down.
Jiyong (oppa)Â
Something hopeful sparks in your chest before you can stop it. You open the message.
Jiyong (oppa): You up?
Itâs simple, casual, like it always is.
Your thumb hovers over the screen.
You check the time without meaning to.
12:47 a.m.
You think about all the other times, how often itâs like this. Late, quiet hours. When the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, when no one is watching, when heâs done being everything else to everyone else.
You tell yourself itâs because heâs busy. Because his schedule is brutal. Because nights are the only time he gets to breathe.
You still answer.
You: Yeah.
The reply comes almost immediately.
Jiyong (oppa): Come over?
No explanation. No mention of practice. No sorry about today. Just that.
Your chest tightens in a way that isnât entirely anticipation.
You stare at the message, the glow of the screen reflecting faintly off your ceiling. Earlier, youâd been curled up, exhausted, telling yourself you just wanted to sleep. To shut everything out. To stop replaying his voice in the studio, the photos on your phone.
You sit up.
A small, inconvenient thought nudges its way forward.
Itâs always like this.
Always late.
Always when heâs finished with his day.
Always when he needs something quiet, something soft.
You hate the direction your mind takes, even as it goes there.
Does he only want me when itâs convenient?
The thought stings, sharp and unfair, because part of you knows itâs not that simple. You know how hard he works. You know how much pressure heâs under. You know he wouldnât ask if he didnât want you there.
Still.
He never asks about your day first.
Never seems to notice how much you rearrange yourself to fit into the spaces he leaves open.
Another message appears.
Jiyong (oppa): Long day. Could really use you.
Your breath catches.
There it is, the thing that undoes you every time.
Could really use you.
Not I miss you. Not I want to see you.
Use.
You close your eyes, just for a moment.
You think about the photos.
About Misunâs hand on his arm.
About how he smiled with her like the world wasnât pressing down on him.
Then you think about how he looked this morning, half-asleep and gentle, standing in his kitchen making you breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You type.
Delete.
Type again.
You: Okay.
The word sends before you can reconsider.
Almost instantly:
Jiyong (oppa): Iâll send a car to pick you up.
You set your phone down and sit there for a long moment, staring at nothing.
Part of you is relieved.
Part of you is wary.
Part of you is already bracing for how easy it will be to soften again the moment you see him.
As you pull on your jacket and grab your keys, you push the thoughts aside.
You always do.
And you go anyway.Â
By the time you reach his building, your mind is a tangled mess. You barely remember walking through the lobby, barely remember the elevator ride.
The door opens almost immediately after you knock.
âHey, baby.â
The word stops you short. Your heart stutters. Heâs never called you that before.Â
Jiyong stands there in a loose T-shirt and soft pants, hair slightly mussed, eyes tired but warm. He smiles when he sees you, really smiles, and before you can process it, his hand is already at your waist, pulling you inside.
He kisses you. Warm and familiar and gentle.Â
âCome here,â he murmurs, forehead resting against yours. âI missed you.â
You let him pull you in.
As the door closes behind you, you canât help the confusion blooming quietly inside you.
Because heâs so sweet now. So soft. Like the version of him from this morning never left.
He keeps a hand at the small of your back as he leads you inside, like heâs afraid youâll disappear if he lets go.Â
âYou look exhausted,â he says softly, helping you out of your jacket. âRough day?â
The question feels almost comical, as if he wasnât part of that ârough dayâ, but it still makes your chest tighten.
âSomething like that,â you answer. Itâs the safest truth you have.
He hums, thumb brushing slow circles against your spine. âCome sit. Iâll get you something.â
You let him guide you to the couch, sinking into the familiar cushions. He moves around the space with practiced ease, tea poured, blanket draped over your legs like itâs instinct.
You thank him quietly.
He sits beside you, close enough that your knees touch. His arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you in. You let it happen, but you donât melt the way you usually do.
He notices.
Not immediately, but his fingers still, then resume more gently, like heâs recalibrating.
âTired?â he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple.
âMm,â you humm.
He accepts that answer easily.
âRehearsals were long,â he says, almost to himself. âYou pushed yourself too hard today.â
Thereâs something careful about his tone. Something like remorse that never quite forms into words.
You wonder if this, this softness, is his version of an apology.
His hand drifts up to your hair, combing through it slowly. It feels good, too good. Your body reacts before your heart can catch up, leaning into the touch despite yourself.
He exhales, satisfied.
âStay tonight,â he murmurs. âWe can sleep in tomorrow.â
You nod, even though you havenât actually agreed.
He presses another kiss to your forehead, then your cheek. Each one unhurried. Affection given freely, like nothing between you is wrong.
And thatâs what makes it confusing.
Because if he felt bad, if this was guilt, then he knows he hurt you.
And if he knows⌠why hasnât he said it?
His fingers trace idle patterns against your arm. âYou were really good today,â he says suddenly. âI saw.â
Your breath catches.
âYou didnât look it,â you say before you can stop yourself.
He blinks, then chuckles softly, brushing it off. âI was stressed. Comeback stuff. You know how it is.â
You nod.
You do know.
Still, the warmth of his body beside you doesnât reach all the way in. The photos flicker at the back of your mind. Misunâs hand. His smile.
He pulls you closer again, the TV hums softly in the background, some late-night drama neither of you is really following. Your head rests against his shoulder, cheek warm through the thin fabric of his shirt. His arm is around you, fingers moving through your hair in slow, absentminded strokes.
He exhales, long and tired, like heâs finally letting the day go.
âToday was a nightmare,â he mutters. âEveryone wants something different, and somehow all of it is urgent.â
You hum, a small sound of acknowledgment.
âThey keep changing things last minute,â he goes on, âConcepts, visuals. Even the plans for the final music video arenât locked yet.â He scoffs quietly. âI swear, no one understands how much of this ends up being my problem.â
His fingers slow, tracing the same path through your hair again and again.
âIâm burnt out,â he admits. âThey act like I can just pull something perfect out of nowhere.â
Your chest tightens, just a little.
âThey want chemistry,â he says. âSomething that looks real. Like thatâs something you can just manufacture on command.â
You keep your eyes on the screen, waiting for him to continue.Â
He shifts slightly beneath you. âIâm tired of explaining myself to people who already decided what they want.â
Thereâs frustration there, but also something softer, something almost vulnerable. Like heâs letting you see behind the curtain.
It feels intimate. Like trust.
The silence stretches.
You take a deep breath and before you can stop yourself
âThe woman from this morning,â you say, keeping your tone light. âWho was she?â
His hand stills.
Then it resumes, slower now, more deliberate.
He glances down at you, expression unreadable. âWhy?â
The word isnât sharp, but it isnât gentle either.
You swallow. âI saw some pictures. Online.â
He exhales through his nose. âYou mean Misun.â
You nod, eyes still on the TV. âSheâs⌠involved with the album?â
âYes,â he says shortly. âSheâs part of the video.â
Something in your chest sinks.
Of course she is.
âOh,â you say. âThatâs how- â
âHow what?â he cuts in, not harsh, but clearly bracing.
You hesitate. âThatâs how you and I met,â you say quietly.Â
He doesnât answer right away and his fingers pause again, longer this time.
âThatâs different,â he says at last.Â
You finally look up at him, confusion flickering across your face. âHow?â
He looks away first.
âItâs work,â he says, voice firmer now. âYou know that. I donât blur lines like that.â
Not anymore, hangs unspoken in the air.
You nod slowly. âI know.â
But your voice betrays you, shaking just a little.
He notices.
A flicker of irritation crosses his face, not at you exactly, but at the situation.Â
âI think youâre tired,â he says, rubbing his thumb against your arm, soothing, calming. âAnd sensitive because today was rough.â
Sensitive.
The word lands heavier than he seems to realize.Â
âI donât have the energy for games,â he continues. âIf Iâm with someone, itâs because I want to be.â
Thereâs an edge there now.
âAnd honestly,â he adds, softer but heavier, âI thought you of all people would understand that.â
The words land wrong. Again.Â
Not angry. Worse, disappointed.
Like youâve failed a test you didnât know you were taking.
âIâm not accusing you,â you say quickly.
âI know,â he replies, but his tone says are you sure? âIâm just saying⌠trust matters.â
You nod again, even though something in you recoils.
âI do trust you,â you say.
That seems to satisfy him. He presses a kiss into your hair, conversation clearly over in his mind. âIâve been doing this a long time,â he murmurs. âI know what matters.â
His arm tightens slightly around you.
You settle back against him, smaller than before.
Because heâs not wrong, he has done this longer. He does know more.
His hand resumes its gentle rhythm through your hair, unaware of the distance youâre holding, because itâs easier than explaining something you donât fully understand yourself.
The TV keeps playing.
***Â
Jiyong doesnât say much at first.
Youâre walking beside him through the hallway, the late afternoon light slanting in through tall windows, the building is quiet. He keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.Â
âWhy are we here?â you ask finally, slowing your steps.
He looks over at you, lips quirking into a small, pleased smile. âPatience.â
You huff. âThatâs not an answer.âÂ
He chuckles under his breath. âYouâll survive.â
You narrow your eyes at him, but thereâs something in his expression, contained, almost excited, that makes you let it go. He opens the door to one of the smaller company studios and gestures for you to step inside.
The room is dim, lights low, equipment humming softly.
You frown. âWeâre not practicing, are we? You said we were done for the day.â
âWe are,â he says, closing the door behind you. âThis is different.â
He moves past you toward the console, fingers already moving with practiced ease. You hover near the couch, still unsure, watching him out of the corner of your eye.
âSit,â he says without looking at you.
You do.
He glances back then, eyes catching yours. Thereâs something almost shy in the way he holds your gaze for a second too long before turning back to the screen.
âI finished something,â he says.
Confusion flickers across your face, not quite catching on.Â
âLast time we were here, we were recording a little something,â he adds. âRemember?â
Your stomach flips, but you donât quite know why.
âYou finished the song?â you ask cautiously.
He nods once. âYeah.â
You sit up straighter. âAlready?â
He shrugs. âActually, I finished it a while ago. I wanted you to be the first to hear it.â
The words ignite a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.Â
Before you can respond, he presses a button.
The room fills with sound.
Itâs familiar, the opening notes you remember laying down together, the rhythm youâd struggled with until it finally clicked. Then your voice comes in, clearer than you remember, layered and polished, sitting perfectly in the mix.
Your breath catches.
It sounds⌠good.
No, better than good.
You glance at him instinctively, but heâs already watching you.
At some point while the track plays, he sits down beside you, knee brushing yours. Â
Your chest tightens as the song unfolds, your voice weaving in and out, blending seamlessly with his own. It feels almost too intimate to hear it like this.Â
When the track fades out, the silence feels loud.
You swallow. âThatâs⌠thatâs me?â
He smiles, small and genuine. âObviously.â
âNo, I mean- â You laugh softly, a little breathless. âI donât sound like I thought I would.â
âThatâs because you never hear yourself the way other people do,â he says. âYouâre always way too critical.â
He angles his body more towards yours. His hand comes to rest briefly on your thigh, just a gentle squeeze, before he drops it again.Â
âYou were good,â he says. âYou were ready. You just didnât know it yet.â
The warmth in your chest intensifies, fragile and bright.
âYou donât have to- â you start.
âI want to,â he interrupts easily. âAnd itâs true.â
You hold his gaze, unsure what to say to that.
For a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has narrowed down to this room again. To the shared creation. To the quiet understanding that this, this, is what started everything.
He leans back slightly, arms crossed, studying you. âYou should be proud,â he says. âA lot of people donât get here at all.â
Thereâs praise there, but also something else. A reminder of distance. Of unequal experience.
Still, it doesnât dull the glow.
You nod, a little overwhelmed. âThank you. For letting me be part of it.â
He tilts his head, considering you. âYou earned it.â
The door handle clicks.
Both of you glance toward the sound.
The door opens before either of you can say anything.
âJiyong?â
Misun steps into the studio without hesitation, already halfway inside as she speaks. She looks comfortable here, like sheâs been in this room plenty of times before. Her eyes land on him first.
âThere you are,â she says lightly. âI was starting to think you ditched me.â
Jiyong straightens immediately. His knee moves away from yours. The loss of contact is subtle, but you feel it instantly.Â
âSorry,â he says, already rising and turning back toward the console. âLost track of time.â
Misun hums. âYou always do.â
Only then she notices you, still awkwardly sitting on the couch.Â
âOh,â she says, pausing. âItâs you again.â
Her head tilts slightly, brows knitting as if searching for something. Your name, maybe. It doesnât come.
âWell,â she continues easily, abandoning the effort, âsmall world.â
You offer a polite smile, âHi.â
She nods once, already redirecting her attention back to Jiyong. âIâve been looking for you. Weâre supposed to go over the storyboard revisions before the meeting.â
âI know.â He exhales, running a hand through his hair. âI just needed a minute.â
Her gaze flickers toward the couch, then back to the console. âWere you working?â
âYes.â He gestures toward you. âI was playing something for her.âÂ
Misunâs interest sharpens, surprised. âOh?â
Her eyes settle on you properly, studying you more closely now.Â
âSo you finally finished it.â
He hums in confirmation.Â
A slow smile curves her lips. âPlay it for me?âÂ
She steps closer, peering at the screen over his shoulder. Close enough that you notice. âYouâve been annoyingly secretive about it,â she adds.
Then, as if remembering you're still here, she glances your way. âIâve only heard the rough structure. No vocals yet.â
A faint smile. âMustâve been exciting, watching the great G-Dragon work?â  Â
âIt was,â you say, softly.
She nods approvingly, looking back at Jiyong, one hand now lightly resting on his arm. âI canât believe you made me wait.â
He shrugs, eyes flickering to you briefly. âI wanted it right first.â
âOf course you did.â She nudges his shoulder lightly. âYouâre ever the perfectionist.â
She doesnât move away, if anything, she leans closer.
âAre you going to make me beg?â she asks, amused. âPlay it.âÂ
Thereâs the smallest pause.
Jiyongâs gaze finding yours again.
Then he turns back to the screen and presses play.
The opening notes fill the room.
Misun listens with her arms loosely crossed, weight shifted onto one hip. She nods faintly at certain transitions, humming under her breath when the production swells.
When your voice comes in, she stills.Â
âOh,â she murmurs.
Not unimpressed but not quite impressed either.Â
She glances at Jiyong. âThatâs different.â
He says nothing, just watches the levels.
Your voice carries through the speakers, vulnerable, textured, alive in a way that felt intimate when it was just the two of you. Now it feels exposed.
When the chorus hits, Misun exhales softly through her nose.
âItâs raw,â she says after a moment. âIt works.â
Thereâs a pause.
âFeels untrained,â she adds thoughtfully. âBut sometimes thatâs better.â
Your fingers curl slightly against your knees.
She turns then, finally looking at you directly.
âYouâre still training, right?â
Itâs phrased gently. Almost kindly.
You nod your head. âYes.â
She nods, as if confirming something she already suspected. âI can tell.â
The smile she gives you is polite, controlled.
âBut thatâs not a bad thing,â she continues. âThereâs something⌠unpolished about it. It makes his production feel more grounded.â
Her gaze shifts back to Jiyong, approval flickering there. âYou were right. The contrast is interesting.â
He gives a small hum of agreement.
Misun leans closer again, pointing lightly at the screen. âMaybe we should lean into that for the video. Keep the styling minimal. Less performance, more honesty.â Her gaze flicks to you again. âWhich works well for something like this.â
Youâre not sure if thatâs praise.
Jiyong checks the time. âWe really are late.â
Misun sighs softly, but sheâs smiling. âSee? This is what happens when you disappear.âÂ
Her hand returns to his arm, familiar, absentminded. âI told you we didnât have time.â
He doesnât react to the touch. Doesnât remove it either.Â
When he looks back at you, his expression shifts, subtly warmer, gentler.
âIâll walk you out,â he says.
Itâs kind. Itâs also unmistakably different from how he spoke to her.
You rise from the couch, suddenly aware of how quiet youâve been.
As you step past him, his hand brushes your elbow, brief, apologetic. A small squeeze that feels like a quiet reassurance. Or maybe a dismissal.
Misun is already at the door, holding it open without looking back, confident heâll follow.
âCome on,â she says lightly. âTheyâre waiting.â
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Pairing: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) x Reader
Genre: Romance, Smut, Idol AU, Fanfiction
Rating: Explicit (18+), contains mature themes, sexual content, and strong language
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, light dom/sub dynamics, mentions of alcohol, obsessive thoughts, and public teasing. Proceed with caution.
Summary: A flirty dance cover of BTSâs Dynamite with a cheeky âdiamond necklaceâ innuendo blows up, catching the eye of J-Hope himself. What starts as spicy DMs with a mysterious stranger spirals into a steamy, obsessive night in Seoul that leaves you markedâliterally and figuratively.
Word Count: ~3.5k
The bass of Sweet Dreams pulsed through your cramped apartment, your phone balanced on a precarious stack of novels. Youâd spent weeks perfecting this dance coverâevery hip pop, every smirk, every flick of your wrist dialed to precision. Your cropped hoodie rode up with each sway, flashing a glimpse of skin, while your leggings hugged every curve. As the final note hit, you struck a pose: lip bitten, eyes smoldering, a playful wink thrown at the camera.
You collapsed onto the couch, breathless, and grabbed your phone for the outro. âAlright, Army, Iâm wrecked,â you laughed, sweeping damp bangs from your face. âBut real talk? Iâd sell my soul for a diamond necklace from J-Hope. Too much to ask?â Your smirk lingered, the innuendo dripping for the fans whoâd get it. You hit post without a second thought.
The âdiamond necklaceâ line was a nod to Army Twitterâs filthier corners, where fans traded sly jokes about Hoseokâs charm. J-Hope was your biasâhis radiant energy, fluid dance moves, and that killer smirk were your undoing. You didnât expect the reel to do more than your usual few thousand likes.
By morning, it was at two million views.
Your notifications were a warzone:
âY/N, YOU WILD FOR THIS đâ
âDIAMOND NECKLACE? GIRL, IâM DEAD đâ
âLiving our Hobi thirst dreams, we stan đâ
Fan edits poured inâslow-mo clips of your hips rolling to Daydream, your hair flip synced to Ego. Brands slid into your DMs, but so did the weirdos. As a small-time Instagram influencer known for K-pop covers and flirty vlogs, this was your brand: bold, teasing, a little dirty. Just another day.
Until it wasnât.
In a dimly lit Paris hotel room, Jung Hoseok sprawled across a king-sized bed, phone glowing against the dark. Heâd been following you for months on a burner Instagram accountâ@random7digits, no pic, no trace. Not even his members knew.
It started with a fan edit of you slaying his Chicken Noodle Soup choreo, your sensual precision making his pulse spike. Heâd binged your profile: dance covers, thirst traps, Q&As where you answered with a wink. You were magnetic, and he was addicted.
Then came the âdiamond necklaceâ reel.
Hoseok watched it on loop, your sultry moves and that bold lineââa diamond necklace from J-Hopeââhitting like a shot of adrenaline. The innuendo was filthy, and it stirred something possessive. He knew you were teasing the fandom, but it felt personal, like a dare meant for him.
âSheâs trouble,â he muttered, smirking. âAnd I want it.â
His thumb hovered over your DMs. From his burner, he typed:
Careful, princess. Wishing for diamonds like that might get you in trouble.
He hit send, heart racing, already hooked on the game.
You woke to a DM that stopped you cold:
Careful, princess. Wishing for diamonds like that might get you in trouble.
The account was a blankârandom numbers, no face. Probably a troll, but the cocky tone sent a thrill down your spine. You bit your lip, typing:
Trouble? My favorite kind. You offering diamonds or just talk?
His reply was instant:
More than diamonds, princess. But you gotta earn âem.
Your stomach flipped. This guy had game. Over the next week, the DMs became your fixâeach message bolder, hotter, laced with tension. He matched your flirtation with a mix of charm and edge, keeping you glued to your phone.
That dance today⌠you know what youâre doing. Teasing like thatâs gonna get you in deep.
You upped the ante, posting a story for him: a slow-motion Ego cover, your body rolling in a tight tank top, sweat gleaming on your collarbone. Caption: Deep? Only if you can keep up.
His response was a video: no face, just a lean, toned torso in grey sweats, moving to Mic Drop with lethal precision. His abs flexed, handsâlong fingers, veins poppingâtugging his waistband low, revealing a V-line that made you choke.
Keep up with this, princess.
You rewatched it, thighs pressed together, heat pooling. You sent a photo: you in a lacy bralette, leaning forward to flaunt cleavage, lips parted. Your move, mystery man.
The escalation was relentless. His voice notes(using voice changer)âlow, huskyâwere pure sin. âYou keep sending shit like that, Iâm gonna lose it,â he growled, the words sinking into you. You fired back a breathy note: âGood. I want you wrecked.â
One night, after a Butter cover where your hips swayed and fingers traced your neck, he snapped:
Youâre begging for it, arenât you? Touching yourself like that, knowing Iâm watching.
He wasnât wrongâyouâd been thinking of him, this faceless stranger who had you unraveling. You typed, reckless:
Maybe I am. Gonna do something about it?
His reply was a photo: his hand gripping a whiskey glass, knuckles tense, a silver ring glinting. Keep pushing. Iâll give you everything youâre asking for.
You pushed harderâa shower clip, steam blurring the glass, your silhouette teasing as water slid down your shoulders. Oops. Slipped.
His response was feral: Youâre fucking killing me. That body⌠Iâm gonna ruin you.
The game was addictive, each message a spark setting you both on fire. You didnât know his name, but he was under your skin.
Ten days in, he dropped a bomb:
Meet me. Seoul. This weekend. Lotte Hotel penthouse. No questions, just us. Say yes.
Your heart slammed against your ribs. Meeting a stranger whoâd been driving you wild? Insane. But the promise of that penthouse, the mystery, the way his words made you acheâit was too much to resist.
You typed, fingers trembling:
Youâre nuts. Rules: safe word, no sketchy shit, and you better be as hot as you sound.
His reply:
Safe wordâs âsunshine.â Iâll take care of you, princess. You wonât regret it.
You spent the next days in a frenzy, packing, texting your best friend (âIf I die in Seoul, avenge meâ), and boarding a flight. The uncertainty only fueled your want.
The Lotte Hotel was a glittering maze of marble and gold. The penthouse was obsceneâblack marble floors, silk-draped bed, a bottle of champagne chilling in ice. The air was heavy, intoxicating.
You stepped inside, heels clicking. âHello?â Your voice wavered. No answer. Your pulse raced as you set your bag down, nerves and anticipation colliding.
You poured champagne, the bubbles sharp on your tongue. Then you felt itâa shift in the air, a presence behind you. You turned.
He stood in the shadows, black cap low, fitted shirt clinging to a lean frame, dark jeans slung low. He moved like a predator, all controlled power. Then he lifted his cap.
Jung Hoseok. J-Hope. Your bias.
Your glass almost shattered on the floor.
âOh my God,â you whispered, legs buckling. âYouâre⌠him.â
He smirked, closing the distance, eyes dark and possessive. âStill want that diamond necklace, princess?â His voice was velvet, laced with sin, sending heat to your core.
You couldnât speak, brain short-circuiting. HoseokâHoseokâwas real, devastatingly hot, his gaze promising everything.
âIâŚâ You swallowed. âYes.â
His smirk deepened, predatory yet soft. âGood girl.â
Hoseok stepped into your space, his cologneâmusky, spicedâflooding your senses. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb dragging across your lip with deliberate slowness.
âBeen dreaming about you,â he murmured, lips close. âEvery night, watching you tease me. Youâve got no idea what you do.â
Your breath hitched, hands gripping his shirt, feeling muscle beneath. His kiss was filthyâtongue sweeping, teeth nipping, all hunger. You moaned, melting into him as he backed you against the wall, the cool surface a shock against your heated skin.
His hands gripped your hips, pressing himself against you. You gaspedâhe was hard, straining against his jeans.
âFeel that?â he growled, grinding slowly. âAll for you.â
He lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed. He pinned your wrists, his other hand yanking your dress up to reveal soaked lace panties.
âFuck,â he breathed, eyes raking over you. âDripping already.â
He tore the lace, the rip loud. His mouth was on youâhot, relentless, tongue swirling over your clit, then plunging inside. You screamed, hips bucking, but he pinned your thighs, devouring you like a man starved.
âHoseokâfuck,â you gasped, trembling. His fingers joined, curling deep, hitting your G-spot with precision.
âTaste so good,â he rasped, lips glistening. âCould do this all night.â
He edged you, pulling back as you neared the peak, leaving you whimpering. âPlease,â you begged, tears pricking.
âNot yet,â he said, licking his lips. âYou cum with me inside.â
He stripped, revealing lean abs, sweat-slick skin. His jeans dropped, and you staredâhe was thick, veined, glistening. He climbed over you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.
âReady?â he whispered, softer now, checking in.
âYes,â you breathed, arching into him.
He pushed in, slow and deep, the stretch intense. He paused, forehead against yours, breath ragged. âSo tight,â he groaned. âPerfect.â
His thrusts were powerful, each one hitting deep, his hips angled to strike your G-spot. The bed creaked, headboard slamming as he drove into you. His dirty talk was relentless:
âWanted my cum, didnât you? Begging for it in front of whole world.â he growled, biting your neck. âGonna mark you, make you mine.â
His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles. You screamed, the edge nearing. He denied you once more, stopping as you trembled, leaving you a sobbing mess.
âPlease, Hoseok,â you cried. âNeed it.â
âOkay, princess,â he murmured. âCum for me.â
His thrusts deepened, fingers relentless. Your orgasm crashed, vision whiting out, body convulsing as you screamed his name. He fucked you through it, thrusts erratic, then pulled out, spilling across your chest and neck, marking you in thick, warm ropes.
âMine,â he whispered, smearing his release across your collarbone, sealing the claim.
Hoseok collapsed beside you, both of you slick with sweat. He pulled you close, lips soft on your forehead, your cheeks.
âYou okay?â he murmured, brushing hair from your face.
âBetter than okay,â you whispered, dazed.
He smiledâbright, sunny, your heart stuttering. He cleaned you gently with a warm towel, then pulled a velvet box from the nightstand. A diamond necklaceâdelicate, sparklingâclicked around your neck, his lips brushing the clasp.
âNext time you want something,â he said, low, âyou come to me.â
You laughed, still reeling. âThink I just did.â
He grinned, tucking you into his arms. You fell asleep, the necklace a cool weight against your skin.
You woke alone, panic flaring until you saw the note:
Flight to catch. Keep the necklace. Call me when you want more. - H
A Polaroid showed Hoseok, shirtless, smirking, holding a card: Mine.
Your phone buzzedâa text from his official Instagram:
Liked your necklace, baby. Ready for round two?
You grinned, typing: Only if you bring a matching bracelet.
Days later, you filmed a Blood Sweat & Tears cover, the diamond necklace glinting, hickeys blooming across your collarbone. Your hips rolled, fingers tracing the marks, a smirk for the camera.
The reel went viral. Army lost it:
âY/N, THOSE HICKEYS?? SPILL đłâ
âDIAMOND NECKLACE AND LOVE BITES? QUEEN SHITâ
âIsn't this J-HOPE coded?? IâM UNWELLâ
Twitter exploded with editsâzooms of your marked skin set to Euphoria. Theories flew: âY/Nâs mystery man is an idol, bet itâs Hobi.â
A DM from Hoseokâs official account: a screenshot of a tweet: Y/Nâs hickeys + necklace = J-HOPE CLAIMED HER, IâM SCREAMING.
His message:
Showing off my work, princess. Wear those marks like a crown.
You typed back, grinning:
Just giving the people what they want. More next time?
His reply:
Count on it. Braceletâs ready. Soâs round two.
You touched the necklace, the hickeys tingling. The world could guess, but only you knewâand the promise of more burned bright.
A/n: Okay so my 2AM thoughts are getting wild I guess. But seriously all I need is diamond necklace from J-Hope. Is it too much to ask? đ¤
P.S.: My @kittenan account tumblr messaging is not working and also I am unable to comment. So I created a backup account. Please follow and support.
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synopsis: following the morning-after rules jiyong set to keep you safe, the tour became a constant game of push and pull; him breaking his own boundaries, while youâre left to enforce them. the tension built quietly; tangled in stolen glances, subtle touches, and one nickname you never meant to take seriouslyâŚuntil halloween night.
warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content | oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom!jiyong, brat!reader, power play, semi-public sex, begging, teasing, praise kink, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, consensual rough sex | age gap (legal), slow burn, angst, workplace power imbalance, swearing, idol/fan dynamic, jealousy, pushing boundaries, generational humour differences.
authorâs note: happy kinktober!! i am so excited to be participating in this event with so many amazing and talented writers! i figured, what better way to start off the month than with the part two that everyone has been begging for, along with some gdaddy content đ if you havenât read part one, iâve linked it below for some context on their relationship dynamic! i am super happy with how this turned out, and i hope that you all enjoy it as much as i do!! i love you all âĄ
part one | part two
sunlight pushed weakly through the curtains; enough to nudge you awake, but not enough to demand you move.
your cheek was pressed to jiyongâs shirt, the steady beat of his heart filling the quiet.
his arm was heavy around your waist, holding you there like he hadnât meant to fall asleep with you tangled across him, but also hadnât let go once he did.
zoa and iye had taken the other side of you, their small bodies warm against your back.
his fingers were already in your hair. slow, barely-there touches that felt more instinctive than conscious.
memories from yesterday started to collect, hesitant at first.
the early morning meeting. your boss hating you. the job offer. the studio. the boys. his penthouse. him.
the smaller details followed in fragments.
what it felt like when he kissed you. how possessive his hands had been. the way he held you like he meant it, even though it made no sense.
he hadnât even known your name yesterday morning.
now, not even a full day later, you were in his bed, curled into his chest, in his hoodie, with his fingers threaded through your hair like they belonged there.
you stirred without thinking, inching closer into the warmth of him. your leg drifted higher, slipping over his and settling just above his hip bone.
his hand paused when you moved, just for a moment, before settling back into the same slow rhythm through your hair.
âmorning, trouble,â jiyong spoke softly, his voice still rough with sleep.
you shifted against him, one hand drifting up to rub the tiredness from your eyes.
when your gaze found his, your smile followed without hesitation.
there was a softness in your eyes, still glazed with sleep, like your heart had already recognized him before your mind could catch up.
âhi,â you whispered, voice cracking from disuse as you let your head drop back onto his chest, eyes closing like the morning had already asked too much of you.
he hadnât been prepared for this version of you; sleepy and quiet, melting into him like youâd done it a thousand times before.
he brushed your hair away from your face without thinking, pressing a quiet kiss to the top of your head.
âhow did you sleep?â he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
âlike a baby,â you mumbled, voice muffled where it pressed into his hoodie.
he let out a soft breath of laughter, warm against your hairline.
âfigured,â he said, thumb brushing lightly over the curve of your neck. âyou drooled on me.â
your head lifted fast, eyes wide with sleepy offense. âno, i didnât.â
âyou did.â he grinned as he tapped the fabric of his hoodie with his pointer finger. âright here.â
âthat was probably zoa,â you muttered, weakly pushing at his chest before hiding your face in it again.
his chest shook beneath you with a quiet laugh. âalso,â he added, dragging the word out, âdid you know that you talk in your sleep?â
you cracked one eye open. âexcuse me?â
âmmhm,â he said, the grin on his face already forming. âclear as day. âkwon jiyong, i swear to godâââ
a laugh burst out before you could stop it, your hand flying to cover your mouth. âshut up. no way.â
âway,â he said, laughing as he rested one of his hands on your thigh. âyou were dead serious. sounded like i owed you money or something.â
you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. âwhat else did i say?â
âhard to say,â he shrugged, shifting just enough to try and catch your expression. âthe rest was mostly gibberishâŚbut iâm almost positive you said âdonât test meâ at one point.â
your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him, chin still resting on his chest. âwhat the hell did you do to me in my dream, kwon?â
his brows pulled together, caught somewhere between amused and alarmed. âme?â
you nodded, stone-faced. âdonât act so innocent. if i was threatening you in my sleep, you obviously did something.â
he blinked hard, like youâd just accused him of a felony. âokayâbut like, how would i know what happened in your dream?â
âi donât know,â you said, poking his chest. âbut my subconscious clearly clocked some shady behavior. you were up to something.â
he let out a short, confused laugh. âyouâre actually blaming me for something dream-me did?â
âoh, iâm not blaming dream-you,â you said, eyebrows raised. âiâm blaming you-you. dream-you is just the whistleblower.â
jiyong stared at you, mouth opening slightly like he wanted to protest, but couldnât find the words.
âi was literally half-asleep,â he said finally, dragging a hand down his face. âright next to you.â
âwhich gave you access!â you argued, sitting up slightly like you were presenting evidence to the jury. âyou probably infiltrated the dream.â
he let out a sharp laugh, throwing his head back onto the pillow for a second before looking at you again. âyouâre insane.â
âyouâre deflecting,â you replied, squinting at him. âthatâs textbook guilt.â
he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. âoh my god.â
you didnât flinch. âapologize.â
âfor what?!â he asked, voice cracking a little. âsomething dream-me did?â
âno,â you said sweetly, âfor whatever real-you did to make dream-you act like a dickhead.â
he let out a long, suffering sigh as he closed his eyes. âiâm sorry for infiltrating your dreams, or whatever you said earlier.â
âthat didnât sound very sincere,â you said, scrunching your nose.
one of his eyes cracked open, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. âalrightâi formally apologize for dream-me being a asshole. real-me takes full responsibility for causing you emotional damage in an alternate reality.â
you nodded, satisfied. âsee? that wasnât so hard.â
âi hate it here,â he grumbled, but his thumb never stopped moving on your thigh.
you hummed softly, triumphant, and let your head fall back to its place on his chest.
the grin on your lips still lingered, but your eyes had softened; fluttering shut as his hand resumed its slow drag across your thigh, his thumb moving absentmindedly over your skin like muscle memory.
the room went still again.
not completely silent, thanks to the hum of the heater and the muffled sounds of the city, but the kind of quiet that only settles when something else is waiting beneath it.
jiyong didnât speak, but his fingers continued to move. he threaded them through the ends of your hair, carefully untangling knots that werenât even there.
it was comforting. addictive. the kind of intimacy that was too easy to get used to.
you didnât say anything either.
you just lay there, suspended in that weird, quiet space between sleep and whatever came next.
and maybe you couldâve stayed like that.
maybe, if you stayed still long enough, he wouldnât say what you knew was coming.
but when he inhaled a little deeper, you felt it.
the way his chest lifted beneath your cheek. the way his fingers slowed in your hair. the subtle shift in the air.
ây/n?â his voice was softer now. careful.
you swallowed. âhm?â
he hesitated for a moment. âcan we talk?â
your fingers curled slightly against his shirt. âyouâre already talking,â you mumbled.
he huffed, a quiet breath through his nose. âdonât be annoying.â
you smiled, just barely. âspeak your mind, ji.â
he didnât answer right away.
he kept tracing through your hair, each pass slower than the last; like if he just kept his hands busy, the truth of it all might stay buried a little longer.
âiâve just been thinking,â he eventually said, voice low and a little rough around the edges.
you didnât answer. didnât even blink.
just kept your head on his chest, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between his collarbones.
his throat moved beneath your cheek as he swallowed. âaboutâŚthis.â
your hand twitched slightly where it rested against his side; barely a flinch, but he felt it.
âlast night. this morning. all of it,â he went on, a little quieter now. like the words were still forming, even as they left his mouth.
you gave the smallest nod, almost imperceptible.
you werenât surprised. some part of you had been bracing for it since last night.
since the moment he whispered âweâll figure it outâ into your skin like a promise he never planned to open.
you hadnât expected the conversation to come this soon.
not while you were still wrapped in each other. not with your leg draped over his hip and his hand tangled in your hair.
but deep down, you knew it was inevitable.
it lived in the quiet between his words.
in the way heâd held you a little too tightly afterward, like he already felt the clock ticking.
in the way your chest tightened every time you remembered that none of this was simple.
not you, not him, and especially not the world you were about to step back into.
âyouâre gonna be with me,â he said, slower now. âworking by my side every single day.â
he didnât have to spell it out. you knew exactly what came with that.
âpeople are gonna notice,â he continued, eyes fixed somewhere past you. âtheyâll talk. twist things. make it a whole thing before we even figure out what this is.â
his hand was still in your hair, but his voice had gone soft; measured in a way that told you heâd been thinking about this all night.
âyou already know how it gets,â he said. âtheyâll dissect everything. turn you into a headline for justâŚbeing near me.â
the wall beside his bed blurred slightly as you stared it down, gaze locked like you could keep the moment from moving forward if you just didnât look at him.
âi know youâre tough,â he said softly. âbut that doesnât mean that you should have to be.â
his eyes searched your face, like he was hoping youâd stop him; give him an excuse not to keep going.
âi justâŚâ he hesitated, breath catching slightly. ââŚi still feel like i have to protect you.â
you didnât answer. silence felt safer than risking saying the wrong thing.
instead, you shifted closer, as if the warmth of his body could shield you from what you already knew was coming.
âi just think we need to draw a line,â he said, each syllable steady and deliberate. âno moreâŚthis. not while weâre working. not when other people are around. itâs smarter that way.â
your cheek stayed pressed to his chest, eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall beneath you. the sound of his heartbeat filled your ear, steady and unflinching, even as yours stumbled.
âokay,â you said quietly, your voice steady in a way that almost convinced you too. âif thatâs what you want.â
the steadiness of your words only made him ache. it was the kind of calm that didnât belong to you; the kind that almost sounded like retreat.
you remained still, swallowing down the lump in your throat, forcing the ache back far enough that it wouldnât show.
âhey,â he whispered, brushing the side of your face with his fingers, coaxing you to look at him.
you let his hand guide your face, your eyes lifting to his despite the sting gathering at the edges.
his gaze softened instantly, guilt etched in every shade of brown that looked back at you.
âthis isnât because of you,â he murmured softly. âi like you. way more than i should, considering we just met.â
you gave a small shrug as you let your head fall back down onto his chest. âi know,â you replied calmly. âwe can do whatever you think is best, ji.â
his hand stayed tangled in your hair, waiting for the lean-in that never came.
âwe can still be us,â he said quickly, trying to fill the silence. âjoke around, hang out. iâm not asking you to stop being you.â
âsure,â you answered, your voice clipped but light.
his thumb brushed against your temple, restless, as though the motion could hold your attention. âi just meanâŚâ his words dragged, uncertain. âno more kissing. no more hooking up. no touching when people are around.â
âokay,â you breathed, as if it were the simplest answer in the world.
he studied you in the quiet that followed, thumb still restless against your temple.
ây/n,â he said finally, your name breaking low from his chest.
âiâm good,â you murmured, lifting your head just enough to meet his eyes. the smile you gave him was bright, practiced, like it cost you nothing. âboundaries are healthy.â
his brows knit together, suspicion flickering. âyouâre being weird,â he said slowly, as if naming it might pull the truth out of you.
âiâm being reasonable,â you argued, breaking your gaze away from his once again.
his eyes narrowed, studying you. âreasonable doesnât look like this.â he muttered. âyouâre shutting me out.â
you let out a weary breath. âiâm just agreeing with you, ji. thatâs all.â
âyou wonât even look at me,â he whispered, his voice coming out softer than he meant it to.
your eyes flicked up just long enough to catch his before slipping away again. âiâm just tired,â you said quietly, as if that explained everything.
he breathed in, unsteady, the rise of his chest uneven beneath you. ây/nâŚâ he said again, softer this time, almost careful.
âwhat?â the question slipped out with more bite than youâd planned. âyou want me to fight you on it?â
he let out a short, embarrassed laugh. âyeah,â he admitted, shaking his head. âpart of me did want you to fight it. which is stupid, considering iâm the one whoâs supposed to know better.â
your lips curved, though the ache in your chest didnât ease. âmaybe,â you teased lightly, âbut youâre also the one making the rules. if this is what you want, iâm not gonna argue with you about it.â
he sighed, a soft laugh caught in it. âthe worst part is, i donât even want the rules. i justâŚfeel like itâs the only way to keep you from getting hurt.â
you looked up at him, a smile tugging at your mouth despite the tightness in your throat. âthatâs the thing, ji. you donât actually believe in your own rules.â
his thumb lingered in your hair, guilt shadowing his eyes. âmaybe not. but i believe in protecting you.â
you let your head drop back against him, your laugh quiet, almost fond. âthen youâve gotta make up your mind. either we have boundaries and you keep them, or you stop pretending like you can.â
he chuckled, the sound rough in his chest. âyou make it sound so simple.â
âit is simple,â you said, smirking up at him. âyou just like to complicate things.â
his mouth curved, but before he could answer, you tilted your head. âactuallyâŚwait. if iâm not allowed to date you, does that mean i can date seunghyun instead? since heâs, you knowâŚâ your grin widened, âsort of the deluxe version of you.â
his head jerked back like youâd slapped him, eyes wide. âdeluxe version?â he repeated, scandal dripping from every syllable.
you bit down a laugh, nodding solemnly. âmhmm. taller, older, deeper voice. seems like an upgrade to me.â
âupgrade?â he sat up half an inch, staring at you in disbelief. âyahâare you out of your mind?â
you bit your lip, eyes glinting as if youâd just discovered the best game in the world. âdonât act so shocked. everyone knows seunghyunâs got that wholeâŚbroody, mysterious, man-of-few-words thing going. total bonus features.â
he scoffed so loudly it made your chest shake with laughter. âbonus features? what am i thenâbasic model?â
âexactly,â you teased, patting his chest like you were confirming it on a receipt. âstarter pack. great for beginners, but eventually you wanna upgrade.â
his jaw dropped, disbelief painted across his face. âstarter pack? yah, youâre unbelievable.â he pushed a hand through his hair, muttering half under his breath, âdeluxe version, my assâŚâ
your grin only widened, delight bubbling out of you. âhey, donât be mad. these are your rules, remember? no kissing, no cuddling, no you. so technicallyâŚnothingâs stopping me from going after him.â
his head whipped back to you so fast you thought he might hurt himself. ânothingâs stopping youââ his voice broke into a disbelieving laugh. âyouâre actually insane.â
âiâm just following your boundaries,â you sang sweetly, resting your chin on his chest like the picture of innocence.
he pointed a finger down at you, eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward. âyouâre evil.â
âmm.â you smiled, smug as ever. âbut at least iâm respecting the rules. canât say the same for you, mister âno more touchingâ with your hand still in my hair.â
his hand stilled instantly, caught red-handed. ââŚshit,â he muttered, dropping it to his side.
your laugh rang out, triumphant. âsee? you canât even last five minutes. how are you gonna survive an entire world tour?â
âeasily,â he shot back, smirking like he believed it.
he did not survive easily.
in fact, he barely made it ten feet into the airport before he broke his own rule.
the tour hadnât even started, and already the crowd was swallowing him whole; fans screaming his name, camera shutters clicking like machine guns, staff waving badges and shouting updates into headsets.
it was the kind of chaos he knew all too well. the kind he could usually drown out.
except today, his focus refused to stay on anything but you.
you were walking beside him; noise-cancelling headphones on, phone in hand, scrolling through the pictures youâd just taken while humming whatever throwback song you were currently obsessed with.
with you running his new instagram, 88llow88llowme, it wasnât unusual for your eyes to be glued to your phone, capturing little moments of him into frames only you knew how to find.
however, this meant that you were everywhere he was; in the chaos, in the quiet, documenting every angle of a life most people only saw in pieces.
you were so absorbed in your gallery that the noise around you blurred into the background. every swipe seemed to pull you further into your own head, a half-smile tugging at your lips as you lingered over each shot.
somewhere between steps, you started to drift.
it was barely noticeable; just a quiet shift as your steps pulled you a little sideways.
but he noticed. of course he noticed.
you didnât look up until a familiar hand landed at your waist, guiding you back without a word.
your hand shot out immediately, smacking his away like a reflex. it wasnât hard, just enough to make a point.
âkwon jiyong,â you said, sharp with mock-offense. âboundaries.â
he turned his head toward you, eyes shimmering. there was laughter tugging at the corners of his mouth already. âyou were about to walk into jaeho.â
your eyes lifted, scanning ahead. jaeho was a good few steps in front of you, fully in his lane, looking unbothered and unaware.
âsure,â you nodded slowly. âblame the innocent man just doing his job.â
jiyong bit his lip to keep from smiling, but failed spectacularly. âi was helping.â
âyou were breaking your own rules,â you countered, voice light and smug.
he sighed like the world had wronged him. âyouâre never gonna let this go, are you?â
you gave him a sweet, unbothered shrug. ânope.â
he laughed, shaking his head like he couldnât believe you. âunreal.â
his hands disappeared into his pockets as he fell back into step beside you, close enough to brush shoulders but just out of reach.
you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.
he met your gaze with wide, innocent eyes. ânot touching,â he said, all fake sweetness. âsee? iâm learning.â
you snorted under your breath. âsure, ji. weâll see how long that lasts.â
it didnât last long at all.
barely a day into the tour, you felt the weight of his head tip onto your shoulder during the morning briefing.
everyone was crammed into the hotel lobby, half-awake and pretending to care what the tour manager was saying about call times.
you didnât even look up from your phone.
âji,â you said calmly, tilting your shoulder just enough for his head to slide off.
he made a wounded noise. âwhy are you like this.â
âwhy do you act like iâm the one that made the rules,â you replied sweetly, still scrolling.
he muttered something about regrets and betrayal and stomped off dramatically, tripping over a suitcase on purpose just for dramatic effect.
two days later, you found a rare pocket of quiet backstage and wasted no time claiming it.
you stretched out across the greenroom couch, earbuds in, phone balanced on your stomach as you sifted through photos from the last show.
you barely registered the sound of the door before you felt a sudden weight drop onto you, knocking the breath from your lungs. âoh my godââ
jiyong dropped onto you without warning, chest-first and sprawled out like you were the couch. his chin pressed to your shoulder, one arm flung carelessly across your side.
âwhatâre we watching?â he mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie.
you yanked out one earbud and glared at him. âmy life flashing before my eyes.â
âcool, cool.â he shifted slightly, just enough to rest more comfortably. âseems cinematic.â
you stared at the ceiling, defeated. âyou are literally suffocating me.â
âjust tryna bond.â he craned his neck to peer at your screen. âoh, thatâs a good one. save that.â
you didnât dignify him with a response.
instead, you rolled your hips to the side with one sharp twist, and his balance gave out instantly.
he slipped right off and hit the floor with a dramatic thump.
âowââ he yelped, clutching his side like heâd been shot. âyouâre so violent.â
you propped yourself up on your elbow and gave him a look. âyouâre so touchy.â
his eyes narrowed. âyou used to like that about me.â
âused to,â you nodded solemnly, voice flat. âback before you had rules.â
he groaned from the floor, flopping onto his back in defeat as he flipped you off.
you smirked and slipped your earbud back in, already returning to your edits.
âlove you too, by the way,â you added, just loud enough to make sure he heard.
he didnât respond, but you caught the small grin tugging at his mouth before he turned his head away.
the next week passed like every other since the tour started; long days, late nights, and jiyong still breaking his own rules like they were suggestions instead of boundaries.
he touched your waist in crowded hallways. rested his chin on your shoulder during van rides. threw his arm across your chest while you were napping, like he was your personal seatbelt.
every time, you called him out.
every time, he pretended to be shocked.
after the show earlier that night, youâd barely made it back to your room before collapsing face-first on the bed, half-scrolling your phone, half-dozing off, when a knock rattled the door.
ânope,â you called, not even lifting your head.
âyes,â came his voice, muffled but smug.
you groaned. âyouâre not invited.â
âi just wanna hang out,â he said quickly, knocking again. âi swear. nothing illegal.â
âillegal?â you laughed, sitting up. âyouâre thirty-six. everything you do with me is illegal.â
âyah,â he sounded offended, but couldnât help the laugh that bubbled out. âdonât start.â
âiâm serious,â you went on, smirking as you padded to the door. âthis is textbook harassment. i should call hr.â
âi am hr,â he shot back. âopen the door.â
you cracked the door just enough to look out.
he was leaning against the frame, hair pushed back like heâd already decided to cause trouble.
the grin on his face confirmed it.
âhm,â you squinted at him. âiâve seen that look before. nothing good ever follows it.â
âi donât have a look,â he shot back immediately, as though youâd accused him of a crime.
you tilted your head, already easing the door shut. âuh-huh. keep telling yourself that.â
his hand shot out, slapping against the door before it closed, and the next thing you knew, your feet were off the ground.
âwhat the hell is wrong with you?!â you shrieked, kicking as he threw you over his shoulder. âput me down, you asshole!â
he adjusted his grip, laughing as your fists pounded his back. ânot a chance. this is way easier than arguing with you.â
âeasier?!â you yelped, fists thudding uselessly against his back. âyou canât just pick people up when they donât agree with you!â
he chuckled, shifting you higher on his shoulder. âworked, didnât it?â
âworked?!â you twisted, trying to kick free. âyouâre deranged! this is harassment!â
the commotion carried down the hall until jaeho stepped out; his eyes flicking from you, dangling upside down, to jiyongâs smug grin.
âhelp me!â you cried, reaching dramatically towards him. âheâs abducting me!â
his mouth twitched, fighting back a laugh, and with a small shake of his head, he slipped back into his room.
âunbelievable!â you yelled after him, smacking your palm against jiyongâs back. âi thought i was your favourite!â
jiyongâs laugh cracked, loud in your ear. âsee? no oneâs buying your victim act.â
you twisted, glaring at him from over his shoulder. âthatâs because youâve got everyone brainwashed!â
he let out another laugh, carrying you the last few steps before shoving his door open with his hip.
he barely cleared the doorway before tossing you onto the bed, grinning like heâd just pulled off the heist of the century.
âthatâs better,â he said, brushing his hands off.
you shot upright, outrage written all over your face. âbetter for who?â
âfor me,â he replied, not missing a beat.
before you could even respond, he grabbed a towel off of the chair and slung it over his shoulder, already moving towards the bathroom.
âexcuse me? where are you going?â you asked, eyes tracking him across the room.
âto shower,â he answered casually.
your jaw dropped. âare you kidding me? you couldnât have showered before coming to kidnap me?!â
âobviously not,â he shot back, glancing at you with a shameless grin. âhad to leave the option open in case you felt like joining.â
your laugh came out sharp and disbelieving as you grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his head. âyouâre disgusting.â
he caught it with ease and immediately tossed it back at you while still laughing. âit was worth a shot.â
the pillow landed back in its place as you flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic groan. âunbelievable.â
he was still laughing when he backed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
you sighed, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling for all of ten seconds before boredom won.
your phone was within reach, so you grabbed it, scrolling with lazy flicks of your thumb.
one clip caught your attention; slowed concert footage of him dragging a hand through his hair before snapping into the beat, hips rolling like he owned the stage.
you watched it twice before forcing yourself to open the comments, already laughing at what you might find.
you didnât even make it past the first comment before you cracked, laughter spilling out so hard your stomach hurt.
âok g-daddy we see youâ it read, racking up almost as many likes as the video itself.
you were still gasping for air with tears forming at the corners of your eyes, when the shower cut off.
the room went quiet except for your laugh echoing against the walls.
âyo,â jiyongâs voice floated out through the door. âwhat are you laughing at?â
you tried to smother the sound of your laughter with your sleeve, but failed miserably.
âseriously,â he called again. âwhatâs so funny?â
you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice casual. ânothing, g-daddy.â
the silence that followed was deafening.
you buried your face in the pillow, shoulders shaking, tears slipping out as you tried to keep the laughter quiet.
âwaitâwait, wait, waitâwhat the fuck did you just say?â his voice cracked out.
you bit your knuckle to keep yourself from laughing, which only made it worse.
the bathroom door slammed open a second later, steam pouring out behind him like a stage entrance.
he stumbled out in a cloud of heat, towel barely hanging on,
you were already doubled over, clutching your stomach.
his steps were erratic, like he couldnât decide whether to flee the scene or interrogate you with his entire soul.
âg-daddy?â he choked, practically wheezing. âdid you just call me g-daddy?!â
you nodded through your laughter, eyes sparkling. âit suits you, donât you think? has a nice little ring to it.â
he stared like youâd grown a second head. âno. no, absolutely notââ
âg-daddyyy,â you repeated, dragging it out this time, just to be annoying.
âno,â he cut in, voice cracking again. he pointed at you like he could physically reverse the words. âyou are not calling me that.â
you were already laughing too hard to speak. âyouâyou did this! this is my revenge.â
his eyes narrowed. ârevenge for what?â
âfor your stupid boundaries,â you cried, turning the screen to him. âtheyâve been calling you g-daddy all week. how have you not seen this?!â
he stepped closer, squinting at the video. his mouth opened. closed. opened again.
you caught the shift in his face before he could hide it; the split-second âoh noâ that flickered behind his eyes.
your grin turned slow and dangerous. âwait,â you said, sitting up straighter. âoh my godâyou like it.â
he scoffed. âwhat? no.â
you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes like you were solving a puzzle. âyou totally do.â
âdo not psychoanalyze me right now,â he warned, towel slipping lower as he tried to gesture vaguely at your phone. âthatâs not whatâs happening.â
âmm,â you mused. âsure itâs not. youâre bright red.â
âthatâs sweat,â he said too fast. âfrom the shower. obviously.â
you leaned forward. âis it?â
âshut up,â he said, one hand flying up like he was trying to block the soundwaves. âyouâre being annoying on purpose.â
âme?â you gasped, mock-offended. âiâm just a humble staff member trying to document your legacy, g-daddy.â
âstop saying it!â he cried, pacing toward the dresser like the movement might save him. âthis feels like a hate crime.â
âyouâre the one with a daddy kink,â you called after him, biting your lip.
he stopped dead in his tracks, his entire body stiffening as though your words reached a part of his brain that heâd been actively avoiding.
âexcuse me?â he said, voice climbing several octaves. âi do not have a daddy kink.â
you propped yourself up on your elbows, brows lifted. âoh, okay. so i guess the be-a-good-girl-and-beg-for-it energy was just a coincidence?â
he turned around slowly, needing to see your face to make sure you were being serious.
he looked traumatized.
you, however, were having the time of your life.
âyouââ he sputtered, eyes wide. âthat wasâi was beingâdominant. notâŚâ he trailed off, expression contorting like the word itself betrayed him.
you nodded solemnly, biting back a grin. âsure. because telling your much younger employee to beg for it is just normal workplace dominance. nothing to unpack there.â
he looked violated. âdonât say it like that. you make it soundââ
âlike a daddy kink?â you offered, fully smiling now. âthatâs because it definitely is.â
âokay, no. nope. shut it down. iâm not doing this with you.â he said, pulling open the dresser like finding pants would save his dignity.
you propped your chin in your hand, still grinning. âso what now? justâŚparade around half-naked until i forget what i said?â
âno,â he muttered, yanking a pair of sweats from the drawer. âiâm just getting dressed.â
you squealed, immediately rolling onto your stomach, face buried in the blanket. âboundaries! hello?â
âare you serious?â he cracked up, tugging them on. âyouâve literally seen it all.â
âthat was private!â your voice came out muffled against the comforter. âthis is workplace harassment.â
âworkplace harassment?â he repeated, still laughing at your ridiculousness. âneed i remind you, youâre in my room.â
you peeked up just long enough to glare. âyou dragged me into your room, which makes me the victim here.â
âoh, please,â he dropped onto the mattress beside you, water still dripping from his hair onto your arm. âyou are not a victim. you live for this.â
you rolled onto your back, smirking up at him. âwhat i live for is enforcing the rules you made.â
âi hate those rules,â he said, though his grin gave him away.
âgood,â you shot back. âthat means theyâre working.â
he leaned closer, bracing one arm on the pillow beside your head. âone kiss,â he murmured. âjust one. no one would know.â
your pulse skipped for just a second before you shoved his face away, laughing. ânope. thatâs a violation. iâm filing another complaint.â
he laughed into your palm, catching your wrist and pressing it flat against his chest. âcomplaint denied. iâm the boss.â
you pulled back with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. âthatâs cute. kind of hard to take the boss seriously when heâs this desperate.â
he groaned dramatically, collapsing back onto the hotel bed with a grin. âyouâre gonna break eventually.â
âmaybe,â you said, sliding off the mattress with your phone in hand. you tugged your hoodie straight and headed for the door. ânot tonight though, g-daddy.â
his laugh cracked, boyish and helpless. âi hate you!â he shouted after you, voice breaking from how hard he was laughing.
you stopped at the doorway, half-turned with a smirk. your wink was quick and smug. âlove you too, g-diva!â
you pulled the door shut behind you, leaving him sprawled in his sheets, groaning like youâd just ruined his whole life.
the next few days passed in a haze of flights, late nights, and too little sleep.
by the time any of it registered, youâd landed in australia for the final show before a much needed break.
soundcheck was already underway, bass rattling through the empty arena as jiyong moved under the lights.
you sat cross-legged on the floor at the side of the stage, phone in hand, snapping pictures between scrolls.
every so often, he glanced your way, a quick grin flashing before he turned back to the mic.
it was a habit by now; something he always found himself doing when you were around, and somehow, it tugged a smile out of you every single time.
your phone started to ring mid-photo, the name âseunghyunâ flashing across the screen.
your eyebrows shot up, and a grin spread before you even answered.
you scrambled to your feet, clutching your phone tight as you wove past the speakers and ducked further backstage.
when the noise finally dulled to a manageable level, you swiped the screen and lifted it to your ear.
âhello?â your voice came out a little too bright, betraying the grin you couldnât hold back.
ârookie,â he drawled, warm and amused, just like how he always sounded when he called just to bug you. âtell me youâre coming to the party.â
your brows knit, confusion flickering across your face. âparty?â you echoed. âwhat party?â
âthe halloween one weâre hosting. donât tell me jiyong didnâtââ he cut himself off, the disbelief clear in his tone. âyah, youâre joking. he never mentioned it?â
you blinked, forcing a laugh that came out lighter than you felt. ânope. first iâm hearing about it.â
âreally?â he questioned, his voice filled with surprise. âthatâs so weird. i figured he told you right away.â
your chest tightened as possibilities tumbled over each other.
maybe heâd just forgotten. maybe it slipped his mind in the chaos of tour.
it wasnât long before other possibilities pushed their way in; ones that you didnât necessarily want to unpack.
maybe it wasnât an accident. maybe he didnât want you there.
maybe he already planned on showing up with someone else; someone who wouldnât spend the whole night throwing his own rules back at him.
the thoughts knotted tighter the longer you stood there.
against your better judgement, your gaze slipped back towards the stage.
he was already looking at you.
the smile heâd been wearing slipped the moment he registered your expression, his eyes darting to the phone pressed to your ear before settling back on your face.
his brows pulled together, worry flickering across his face. his eyes stayed on yours like he wanted answers, but the track carried on, pulling his focus back to rehearsal.
the moment his attention shifted, you let a breath and steadied your voice.
âguess not,â you said into the phone, leaning back against the wall, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie between your fingers. âbut if you want me there, iâll come.â
âof course i want you there,â seunghyun said easily. âwhat kind of party would it be without you?â
the tightness in your chest eased, just a little. âsmooth,â you let out a laugh, quiet but real. âyou always talk like that, or is this special treatment?â
âonly for you,â he teased. âseriously though, the boys miss you. i miss you. it wonât be the same if youâre not there.â
you rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away. âfine. only because you asked so nicely.â
ânicely? rookie, that was me begging,â he laughed. âdonât let it go to your head, though.â
âtoo late,â you teased. âwhatâs the dress code anyway? do i have to match you guys or something?â
âas long as itâs a costume, youâre fine,â he said easily. âthough sexy is always a bonus.â he added with a grin you could practically hear through the line.
your laugh slipped out before you could stop it. âa bonus for who, exactly?â you teased, raising your brows even though he couldnât see you.
âfor everyone,â he replied without missing a beat. âbut letâs be realâwe all know youâre jiâs girl.â
you huffed out a laugh, heat creeping up your neck. âi am not his girl.â
âuh oh,â seunghyun jumped in right away, dragging it out like heâd been waiting for this. âsounds like somebodyâs mad she didnât get the invite straight from him.â
your mouth fell open, a laugh slipping out of you. âiâm not mad!â
âsure,â he teased, voice smug. âyouâre practically foaming at the mouth.â
âokay, okay,â you shook your head, grinning despite yourself. âmaybe i am a little annoyed, but that still doesnât make me his girl.â
âsure, sure,â he said easily. âso if youâre not his girl, that means youâre fair game, right?â
âfair game for who? you?â you questioned, already knowing what his answer would be.
âobviously,â he responded without hesitation, the grin in his voice unmistakable. âiâm taller, cooler, less bossy. iâd never make you follow dumb rules.â
your laugh burst out before you could stop it. âthatâs literally what i said! i told him months ago that you were the deluxe version!â
seunghyun broke into full laughter on the other end, so loud you had to pull the phone back a little. âno way. you actually said that to his face?â
âof course i did,â you said, grinning as you pinched the bridge of your nose. âhe looked like he wanted to strangle me.â
âoh my god,â seunghyun managed between laughs. âthis is why i love you.â
âcareful,â you warned, biting back another laugh. âsay stuff like that and people might actually believe it.â
âgood, let âem.â he shot back, still chuckling. âsee you at the party, rookie.â
you shook your head, smiling as you said your goodbye and ended the call.
when you glanced back toward the stage, jiyongâs eyes were already on you, once again.
the confusion from earlier hadnât gone anywhere. if anything, it was sharper now; threaded with something you couldnât quite name.
you forced a small smile in his direction, hoping it was enough to smooth over whatever he thought he saw.
his mouth twitched like he wanted to return it, but the music pulled him forward before he could.
you slipped your phone into your pocket and headed for the dressing room, not bothering to stay through the rest of rehearsal.
the couch welcomed you like it knew the weight you carried, the soft cushions swallowing you as you tugged your hood up and leaned back.
the ache in your chest clung on, quiet but insistent, no matter how many times you told yourself you didnât care.
the door cracked open a little while later, the hinges giving the faintest groan before it shut again.
before you could even look up, his voice cut through the silence.
âwho called you?â he asked, steady on the surface, though the edge underneath gave him away.
your head snapped up. âseriously?â you shot back, hood still tugged over half your face. âso itâs fine for you to keep secrets, but i have to give you a play-by-play of every call i get?â
his mouth opened, then closed again, confusion flickering across his face. âwhat are you talking about? i justâi wanted to knowââ
âit was seunghyun,â you cut him off, a little sharper than you intended.
he stilled mid-step. ââŚokay?â he tried, cautious. âwhyâs he calling you though?â
you tilted your head, feigning confusion. âwhy wouldnât he?â
he blinked, caught off guard. âi mean, he doesnât usuallyâhe couldâve justâŚi donât knowââ his words tangled, shoulders shifting like he couldnât quite find his footing.
you didnât bother answering. instead, you sank deeper into the couch and unlocked your phone, scrolling like the conversation was over.
his brows knit, confusion tugging at his features as he watched you ignore him. ââŚwhat did he want?â he asked finally, the caution in his voice making it clear he was still trying to figure out what heâd walked into.
you hummed like you had to think about it, eyes still on your screen. âoh, nothing important,â you said at last, casual enough to sting. âjust wanted to know if i was coming to the halloween party.â
he froze. ââŚthe party? in seoul?â
you finally looked up, gaze sharp. âyeah. apparently everyone knew about itâwell, everyone except me.â
his mouth parted, words stumbling out before he could shape them. âi was gonna tell you. i justâŚthings have beenââ
âdonât say crazy,â you cut in, tossing your phone aside. âdonât say busy, either. we spend every waking moment together, and somehow iâm the last to know? come on, ji. thatâs not an accident.â
âi didnât thinkââ he started, shifting his weight like he couldnât decide whether to step toward you or back off.
you let out a sharp, humorless laugh, pressing a hand to your forehead. âyeah, no kidding. do you know how embarrassing that was? him sounding shocked, like, âyah, youâre joking, right?â and iâm standing there looking like an idiot because you âdidnât think.ââ
his jaw clenched, teeth pressing together hard. âyouâre not an idiot. you know i donât see you that way.â
âthen explain it,â you fired back, your chest tightening. âbecause either you didnât want me there, or you already planned on taking someone else. which one is it?â
âitâs neither,â he bit out, the pitch of his voice rising before he forced it lower again. âyouâre twisting itââ
âiâm not twisting anything!â you snapped. âif i mattered, you wouldâve told me. itâs as simple as that.â
his mouth opened, and quickly shut again, like he couldnât line up a defense. âit wasnât about that,â he managed finally. âi wasnât hiding it from you.â
âright,â you muttered, arms crossing tight. âfunny how seunghyun thought to ask me, though. at least he thought i was worth telling.â
his expression faltered, your words hitting him harder than you meant them to. ââŚso what? now seunghyun cares more about you than i do?â his voice rose, sharper than before. âthatâs not fair.â
âwhatâs not fair,â you argued, heat rising in your chest, âis you making me feel like some afterthought. you knew for weeks, ji. weeks! and you said nothing. but god forbid i get a phone call when you arenât aroundâand suddenly i have to explain myself?!â
his brows pulled together, confusion twisting into something tighter. âthatâs not what this isââ
âisnât it?â you asked, leaning forward. âyou get to make all the rules, pretend like you donât want me too close, but the second someone else gives me the bare minimum of attention, youâre looking at me like iâve done something wrong!â
something in him cracked at that, his jaw tightening before his face shifted; hurt flashing first, frustration chasing close behind. âjesus, do you even hear yourself? youâre acting so childishââ
you froze, breath catching sharp in your chest. âchildish,â you echoed, soft but trembling underneath, like you couldnât quite believe heâd actually said it.
it wasnât just his words that stung; it was what they implied.
youâd always believed he looked past the years between you, that he saw you standing beside him rather than behind.
the thought had been a comfort, something you clung to in the quiet moments when the gap felt too wide. now, it pressed against your ribs like a bruise, leaving you feeling much smaller than ever before.
regret washed over his face so fast it almost looked painful. âwaitâno, thatâs not what i meant,â he rushed, words tripping over themselves. âi didnât mean it like that, i justââ
you let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. âdonât bother. you clearly meant it enough to say it.â
he moved toward you, hands half-raised, like he could undo it if he just explained fast enough. ây/n, please, i didnâtââ
âsave it,â you cut him off, yanking the strap over your shoulder. your voice cracked once before you forced it steady. âif thatâs how you see me, then fine. but iâm not gonna sit here and be talked down to by the same guy who canât even decide what he wants from me.â
he flinched, almost like youâd hit him, but you didnât give him the chance to recover.
âget someone else to take your stupid fucking pictures tonight,â you added, brushing past him hard enough that your shoulder clipped his.
he was on your heels the second you reached the door. âyou canât just leaveâyouâre workingââ
you didnât so much as look back. âthen fire me,â you snapped, the words flung over your shoulder as the door slammed hard against the frame.
you tugged your hood further down your forehead as you walked, hoping the shadow it casted was enough to hide the sting in your eyes.
the door behind you flew open almost instantly. ây/n!â his voice ripped down the hall, cracked and desperate, almost like he thought sheer volume might drag you back.
his footsteps followed quickly behind you, each one hitting the floor harder than the last, until they cut short in a scuffle.
âjiyong,â jaehoâs voice came firm, his grip closing tight around jiyongâs arm.
âlet me go!â jiyong roared, twisting against him, his voice breaking as he shouted again. ây/n! please!â
heads turned as you passed, a hundred questions written across their faces. curiosity, pity, judgment; all of it clung to your skin with a weight you couldnât quite shake.
you didnât give any of them the satisfaction of meeting their eyes, choosing to fix your stare on the floor instead, praying that if you just kept moving, theyâd eventually look away.
behind you, jaehoâs voice cut through the noise, steady and immovable. âenough, ji. donât make this worse.â
âi said let me go!â jiyongâs voice broke, rough with desperation as jaeho dragged him back.
his shoes scraped hard against the floor, fists jerking like he still thought he could fight his way free, but the older manâs grip didnât budge.
your name ripped out of him one last time, echoing down the corridor, before the door closed behind them and cut the sound in half.
by the time you reached your hotel room, your phone had been buzzing non-stop in your hand with calls and text messages; everything lighting up the screen faster than you could swipe it away.
the moment the door shut behind you, you let your bag fall wherever it landed and threw yourself face-first onto the bed.
the mattress dipped hard under your weight as you buried your face into the comforter, a muffled sound ripping out of you before you could swallow it back.
you kicked your feet once, twice, sharp little bursts of frustration that made the bed jolt.
your phone wouldnât stop, the vibration rattling against the nightstand like it was mocking you. you didnât even have to look to know who it was.
you rolled onto your side, arm flopping out blindly until your fingers found the screen. the messages blurred together as they filled the display.
jiyong: where are you??
jiyong: iâm sorry.
jiyong: i didnât mean it like that.
jiyong: please answer me.
the screen lit up again before you could even finish reading through all of the messages, his name flashing across the top.
you declined the call without a second thought and tossed your phone face-down onto the bed, but it wouldnât stop; buzzing again and again, as if he wasnât going to stop until you finally caved.
it went on for what felt like hours, breaking only when he was pulled onstage. for a while, there was quiet; long enough for you to almost believe heâd finally given up.
but after the show, it started again. call after call, message after message, each one more frantic than the last.
the only pause came when you realized he wasnât on the other end of your phone anymore, but on the other side of your door.
first, it was his voice; low and hoarse from the night, coaxing, apologizing, begging you to just say something.
when that got no response, everything went quiet.
no more calls flashing across your screen. no more words piling up in bubbles you refused to open.
the silence should have been a relief, but it wasnât. it pressed in heavy, filling the room until it was impossible to ignore.
he was still there; you could feel it, as if his presence seeped through the walls, steady and unrelenting, a quiet vow that he wasnât leaving.
you lasted only a few minutes on the bed before the pull became too much. eventually, your steps carried you across the room, slow and unwilling, until you sank down in front the door.
you didnât make a sound. you couldnât. you didnât want him to know you were there. still, being this close, separated by only a sliver of distance, dulled the ache just enough to let you breathe.
at some point, exhaustion pulled you under. you stayed curled against the door, cheek pressed to your knees. the position was uncomfortable, but the faint comfort of knowing he was still there on the other side kept you from moving.
when you opened your eyes again, morning light was already seeping past the curtains. the knock that came wasnât his this time, but staff, reminding you that it was almost time to leave for the flight back to seoul.
the rest of the morning blurred. you packed without thinking, every motion stiff and mechanical, your chest still heavy from the night before.
he didnât knock again. didnât try to stop you in the hall. didnât say another word.
still, you felt him. in the car to the airport, on the walk through the terminal, even on the plane.
his eyes lingered, his gaze thick with regret, but you gave him nothing; keeping your attention locked on everything but him.
by the time you landed back in seoul, the weight of everything hadnât lifted. if anything, it only grew heavier when the terminal doors opened and the chaos flooded in.
cameras. voices. fans pressed shoulder to shoulder. flashes of light cutting across your vision.
you stayed back instinctively, your hand already reaching for your phone. âiâll call someone to come get me,â you told jaeho quietly, in an attempt to avoid jiyong all together.
but before jaeho could answer, jiyong was already there.
his arm hooked over your shoulders, pulling you in tight, his hand steady at the back of your head to shield you from the swarm of bodies and flashing lights.
âi donât care how mad you are at me,â he said, voice rough but steady against the noise. âiâm not leaving you alone in the middle of this airport.â
his words left no room for argument.
every step he took angled your body into his, his hold a shield against the swarm of fans and cameras until the car door finally closed, cutting off the noise.
his arm slipped reluctantly from your shoulders, the heat of his palm still lingering at the back of your head.
you leaned towards the window, eyes fixed on the blur of lights, even as you felt him watching you.
he stayed quiet for a long moment, head bowed, before finally speaking. âi shouldâve told you,â he said, voice rough. âabout the party. about all of it. you deserved to hear it from me.â
you exhaled sharply, your forehead pressing against the glass. âyeah. i did.â
his hand dragged over his mouth, restless. âit wasnât on purpose. i wasnât hiding it. i justâŚkept putting it off, and suddenly it was too late.â
your head tilted toward him, eyes narrowing. âtoo late? ji, we spend every minute together. you had a hundred chances to tell me. you just didnât.â
he flinched, guilt flickering clear across his face. âi know. and iâm sorry. i hate that i made you feel like you didnât matter.â
your throat tightened, words catching before you forced them out. âitâs not just this, though. itâs those stupid fucking rules. you set the boundaries, not me. and iâve tried to respect them, i really have. but youâre always the one breaking themââ you cut yourself off, shaking your head.
his chest rose with a shaky breath. âi know itâs not fair. i donât mean to confuse you. i justâŚâ he stopped, searching. âi donât know how to want you without risking everything. but i donât know how to stop wanting you, either.â
you turned fully then, your eyes locking on his. âi can handle the risk. what i canât handle is feeling like an afterthought, or like this is something you can switch on and off whenever it scares you.â
his gaze broke first, dropping to his lap. he sat there for a long beat, jaw tight, like he wanted to argue but couldnât find a single word that didnât make it worse.
âyouâre not an afterthought,â he said finally, his voice low and raw. âyouâre the only thing i ever think about.â
âif you really mean that, then prove it,â you spoke quietly, the fight finally slipping out of your voice, âstop making me feel like iâm something you have to resist.â
he nodded once, slow, like the weight of your words landed heavy in his head. his fingers tapped restlessly against his knee, the silence thick between you.
âare you still going tomorrow?â he asked after a pause, cautious, almost like he was bracing himself for the answer.
your arms folded across your chest. âyeah. i told seunghyun iâd be there.â
his head turned, eyes sharp even in the dark. âwhat are you wearing?â
you leaned back toward the window, a faint smile tugging at your lips even as your chest tightened. âyouâll find out tomorrow.â
you hadnât spoken to him since.
after everything that was said in the car, you thought he might reach out. a knock at your door. a half-hearted excuse. maybe even a real apology, if he was feeling brave.
instead, there was silence.
you didnât let it bother you. at least, not enough to let it ruin tonight.
the bow tie was still loose around your neck when your phone lit up on the counter. the buzz carried through the quiet hum of the bathroom, breaking your focus for just a moment.
seunghyun: carâs downstairs. told the guys youâd be on time. donât embarrass me, rookie.
your mouth curved, soft at the edges.
you clipped the bow tie into place, fingertips brushing over the satin until it rested perfectly against your skin. it was the smallest part of the costume, but somehow it pulled everything together.
you wouldnât be a real playboy bunny without it.
the rest of the outfit framed it perfectly; a black corset pulled snug at your waist, a skirt so short it felt more like suggestion than fabric, fishnets mapping clean lines over your legs, and heels that raised you three inches higher than you were used to.
you picked the ears up from your dresser and settled the band over your hair, nudging it into place with careful fingers.
your eyes lingered on the mirror longer than you meant them to, and the longer you stared, the easier it was to let the confidence sink in.
a small smile curved at your mouth before you finally turned away, slipping your phone into your purse and pulling the strap over your shoulder as you walked out of your apartment.
by the time you reached seunghyunâs house, the front steps were scattered with people in costume; some smoking, some laughing, most of them unfamiliar.
a few faces stood out, ones youâd grown up idolizing, but that didnât make walking through them any easier.
you slipped your phone from your purse and opened jiyongâs chat without thinking. it was a habit by now; texting him the moment you arrived, knowing heâd meet you outside so you wouldnât have to walk in alone.
but when you opened the thread, there was still nothing waiting.
your thumb hovered for a moment, but you didnât type anything. he hadnât said a word all day, and you were definitely not about to be the one to change that.
with a quiet sigh, you backed out of the thread and opened the group chat instead.
y/n: iâm here.
you tucked yourself against the edge of the front steps, just outside the swirl of bodies moving in and out of the house.
daesung: omg finally!!!
youngbae: doorâs open, just come in.
your eyes flicked towards the entrance, catching flashes of movement and loud voices as more strangers pushed through the door.
y/n: iâm not walking in alone. absolutely not.
y/n: i think someone just barked at me???
y/n: iâm too sober for this.
you shifted your weight from one heel to the other as you waited for a reply.
daesung: bark back and assert your dominance.
a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. you shook your head, already typing a comeback when another message popped up.
seunghyun: iâll come get you, scaredy cat.
the door cracked open a moment later, and seunghyun stepped into view dressed in dark jeans, a fitted tee, and a worn cowboy hat that somehow made too much sense on him. he spotted you insantly, that same easy grin lighting up his face.
âi guess youâre not a scaredy cat,â he called out as he strolled toward you, âyouâre a scaredy bunny, apparently.â
you groaned. âi hate you.â
âno, you donât,â he said, stopping a few feet in front of you. his gaze dragged from your heels to your collarbone with no real attempt at subtlety. ârookie, what the hell are you wearing?â
âwhat?â you looked up at him, feigning innocence. âyou donât like it?â
he let out a short laugh. âi didnât say that.â he leaned back slightly, giving you another once-over, slower this time. âyou look really hot, actually.â
you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you crossed your arms over your chest. âyouâre ridiculous.â
âsays the girl in ears and a bowtie,â he shot back, still keeping his eyes locked on you. âyou really went full playboy, huh?â
you smirked. âyou sound surprised.â
âiâm not.â he said, head tilting just slightly. âiâm honestly impressed. you mightâve just saved halloween showing up like this.â
you bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. âoh my god.â
âiâm serious.â he gestured vaguely down your body. âi shouldâve brought you one of those little trays. you could be walking around with shots on it right now. men would be on their knees.â
âyou would be too, donât kid yourself,â you said, poking at his chest.
he held up his hands in mock surrender. âi never said i wouldnât be.â
your eyes flicked to the drink in his hand, and without a word, you plucked it from his fingers and knocked it back like it was yours to begin with.
âunbelievable,â he said, watching you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. âdo you ever get your own drinks?â
you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smug. âwhy would i? yours always taste better.â
he shook his head, laughing under his breath. âyouâre actually the worst,â he muttered, nudging you gently with his elbow. âcome on, bunny. weâre getting you your own drink before you rob anyone else.â
you let him lead the way, following closely as he pulled the front door open. the air shifted instantly; thick with heat and sound, the bass pulsing through the floorboards like a second heartbeat.
bodies pressed in from every side, voices echoing down the hall as the party spilled deeper into the house.
you hooked your fingers lightly around his arm without thinking, just to stay close. he didnât seem to mind. if anything, he shifted a little, making room for you as you moved through the crowd together.
âis jiyong here?â you asked, ducking your head toward him so only he could hear.
he glanced sideways, raising an eyebrow. âwhat, you miss him already?â
you shot him a look. âdonât be annoying.â
his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. âheâs here,â he said, way too pleased with himself.
your brows pulled in. âwhy do you sound like that?â
âi donât sound like anything,â he said, way too quickly.
you narrowed your eyes, but he was already steering you towards the kitchen.
âyouâre gonna need this,â he muttered, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it without waiting for your input.
âwhat the fuck is that supposed to mean?â you asked, giving him a look.
he didnât answer. just turned, lifted the drink towards your mouth, and tilted it ever so slightly until you had no choice but to take a sip.
âtrust me,â he added, fingers still wrapped lightly around the glass. âyouâll thank me later.â
you swallowed, eyeing him over the rim as he finally let go. âyouâre actually insufferable, sometimes.â
âprobably,â he said, already nudging you out of the kitchen. âbut youâre about to be real glad i did that.â
you didnât get a chance to ask what he meant by that.
the music pulsed heavier as you followed him down the hall, the crowd thinning just enough to move without bumping into every person in your path.
still, the occasional shoulder grazed yours, causing you to tighten your hold around seunghyunâs arm for balance.
âtheyâre over there,â seunghyun said, tipping his chin towards a cluster of couches near the window.
you spotted them just as they spotted you.
âfinally,â daesung called, already pushing to his feet. âwhat took you so long?!â
youngbae stood too, a grin spreading across his face as his eyes flicked over you. ârookie, you look insane,â he said, pulling you into a quick hug before you could even answer. âdefinitely worth the wait.â
âseunghyun made me stop for a drink,â you answered as daesung pulled you in for a hug of his own.
this side of the living room was a little calmer. the smoke still hung in the air, curling lazily toward the ceiling, but it wasnât as dense. the music bled in from the hallway, bass heavy and slow, muffled just enough to make voices easier to hear.
groups of people lounged across the couches, plastic cups balanced on their knees or cradled in their hands. the lighting here was low and violet-toned, soft enough that everyone looked a little hazy around the edges.
daesung leaned back, still grinning as he looked you over. âwait, whereâs your drink?â he asked, glancing at your empty hand.
you shrugged. âfinished it already.â
âdamn,â he laughed, reaching behind him to grab another off the low table. âguess that means this one's yours now.â
you took it before he could change his mind, raising it in mock salute. âyouâre a good man, dae.â
âi try,â he said, flashing a grin.
youngbae hadnât taken his eyes off you. his head tilted, gaze narrowing a little like he was trying to line something up in his mind.
âwait,â he started, the words dragging out slowly as he glanced over his shoulder. âdid you andââ
âyo, ji!â someone shouted from one of the couches beside you. âone of your little bunnies are here!â
the words sliced right through the loud music, causing a few heads to turn your way; including his.
he shifted from where he was standing and turned towards the noise, a lowball glass dangling from his fingers.
the movement was casual until his eyes landed on you.
everything around him seemed to blur out. the smoke, the music, even the girl standing beside him. none of it mattered anymore.
his fingers tightened slightly around the glass in his hand, but he didnât move. not right away.
he just stared, eyes dragging down the length of you like he didnât quite believe what he was seeing.
âoh, youâve got to be fucking kidding me,â you muttered, eyes drifting over the silk robe slung low over his shoulders, the dark shirt half-unbuttoned beneath it, and the pipe on the table next to him.
he was dressed as hugh hefner. of course he was.
beside you, seunghyunâs low laugh was almost a whisper. âtold you youâd need a drink,â he muttered, his mouth close to your ear.
you lifted your drink to your lips in acknowledgment, taking a slow slip as if that might dull the heat crawling up the back of your neck.
he still hadnât looked away.
for a second, you thought maybe he wouldnât move.
maybe heâd stay exactly where he was; frozen in place, trying to blink you into something less dangerous.
but the moment the alcohol touched your tongue, he took a slow step forward, then another, weaving between shoulders and couches like nothing else in the room existed.
he stopped a few steps in front of you, not quite close enough to touch. his gaze dragged over your outfit again, much slower this time, before returning to your face.
âyou made it,â he said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
you gave the smallest nod, not knowing how to respond to him.
âyou lookâŚâ he started, only to trail off mid-thought.
âsmoking hot,â daesung offered casually.
âdrop-dead gorgeous,â youngbae chimed in with a grin.
jiyong exhaled, jaw flexing once before he finally cracked a smile. âyeah,â he said, nodding slightly. âthat.â
you tilted your head the slightest bit, letting the silence stretch before answering.
jiyong flicked a look at the boys, not subtle in the slightest, a silent order to give the two of you space.
to your surprise, they actually listened, peeling off towards the kitchen with the worst attempt at casual youâd ever seen.
âyou look good too,â you said, voice deceptively light. âhugh hefner, though? really?â
his lips twitched, eyes flicking down for a second. âwasnât my idea.â
âsure it wasnât,â you replied, arms loosely crossed over your chest. âitâs very on brand.â
he raised an eyebrow, intrigued. âhow so?â
you took a slow step closer, your mouth curling at one corner. âold. rich. dramatic. craves attentionâŚâ you paused, leaning in just enough for only him to hear, âitâs all very gâdaddy of you.â
his body went still, so subtle anyone else wouldâve missed it, but you caught it.
the flicker in his eyes. the way his breath dipped for half a second. how his grip on the glass tightened.
his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging over your mouth like he was already imagining it parted around his name.
âyouâre not playing fair,â he said, voice rough.
âiâm not here to play,â you said softly. âyou know that.â
he stepped closer. not quite touching, but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him.
he let out a quiet, rough laugh, almost more breath than sound. âyouâre gonna be a fucking problem tonight.â
you didnât flinch. instead, you lifted your chin, eyes locked on his like you were daring him to do something about it.
the space between you barely existed now; one breath, one slip, and youâd fall right into him.
âfunny,â you murmured, voice low and deliberate, your words curling between you like smoke. âi thought thatâs what you liked about me.â
his eyes darkened instantly, like youâd hit a nerve heâd been trying to keep buried.
he leaned in just enough that your noses nearly brushed, voice low enough to vibrate through your chest.
âi like a lot of things about you,â he said, each word thick with restraint. âbut that mouth might be my favourite.â
his voice rolled through you, low and deliberate, like it knew exactly where to land.
your body reacted before your mind caught up; heat curling in your stomach, a slow throb of want that settled deep in your bones.
you smothered it before any of it could reach the surface.
your lashes lifted with calculated ease, gaze locking on his like you were reading every filthy thought behind his eyes, and choosing not to act on a single one.
you lifted your drink with slow, measured simplicity, letting the rim graze the edge of his skin on the way up; a fleeting, but deliberate touch.
his muscles tightened in response, subtle but unmistakable, like the slip of control had caught him off guard.
you tipped it back and finished the rest in one long swallow, allowing him to watch the movement of your throat.
his gaze tracked every shift â your lips, the curve of your neck, the rise and fall of your chest â devouring you without the slightest hint of shame.
when the glass came down, your lips were damp, parted, and just inches away from his.
you didnât move. neither did he.
his eyes lingered on your mouth for a beat too long, almost like he was weighing the consequences of closing the gap between you, or maybe fantasizing about all of the ways he could make you beg for it first.
âiâm gonna get a refill.â your words brushed his mouth more than his ear, soft enough to be mistaken for a promise.
you stepped past him slowly, your fingers skimming the back of his hand.
before you disappeared into the crowd, you looked back once, shoulder turned, eyes gleaming with something that wasnât quite innocent.
âtry not to miss me too much,â you added sweetly, with a smile sharp enough to draw blood.
you didnât wait for his reaction.
the crowd swallowed you in seconds; music pulsing, bodies everywhere, and heat pressed from all directions, but none of it compared to what youâd just walked away from.
you didnât make it far before familiar fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you so abruptly your breath caught mid-step.
you didnât have to look to know it was him.
his fingers tightened just enough to make you stop. heat rolled up your arm a second before his chest brushed your back, his breath ghosting the side of your neck like a warning.
âupstairs,â he said, low enough that only you could hear. ânow.â
the words cracked through the noise, quiet but absolute. it wasnât a request.
you felt the tug of his hand before your mind caught up. the crowd parted for him without a glance, his grip steady as he pulled you through it.
his hand stayed locked around yours as he cut through the party like it wasnât even there. shoulders and cups brushed against you, a blur of faces and smoke, but no one tried to stop him.
your pulse matched the bass underfoot, hard and fast, even as the sound dimmed with every step up the stairs.
your heels barely hit the landing before he was unlocking the last door at the end of the hall; seunghyunâs in-home studio.
the room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a red interface light.
you barely had time to register the space â the cluttered desk, the low hum from the equipment, the scent of wood polish and smoke still clinging to the walls â before his grip shifted.
his hand moved from your wrist to your waist, and in one smooth, unrelenting motion, he turned you.
your back hit the door hard enough to make it slam shut behind you; the sharp, echoing click of the latch sealing the room, and sealing you in it.
your gasp caught on his mouth before you even realized he was that close.
his hands bracketed your hips, wide and possessive, fingers digging in like he was daring you to move.
his chest pressed flush to yours, keeping you pinned with nothing more than his body and the heat rolling off of it.
he didnât say a word. didnât give you a second to breathe.
he kissed you like he was starving; the kind of kiss that knocked the breath right out of your lungs and left your knees weak.
you moaned against his mouth, a sound he swallowed eagerly, hands already sliding under your ass.
âjump,â his voice was low, wrecked, and demanding.
you obeyed without hesitation, legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.
he caught you easily, palms spreading over the back of your thighs as he pressed you back against the door, like he needed every inch of you flush against him.
his mouth dragged down your jaw, hot and open, and your head hit the wood behind you, causing your bunny ears to fall to the floor without either of you even noticing.
âfuck,â you gasped, breath hitching when he rocked into you.
he was already hard, and already so far gone.
âyouâre such a fucking tease,â he growled, biting lightly at your neck. âwalking away from me like thatââ
his hand slid up your side, fingers grazing the edge of the velvet corset. ââacting like you didnât want me to do this.â
he didnât wait for a response.
his hand gripped your waist, steady and hard, anchoring you in place as he rolled his hips into yours again, rougher this time, like he wanted to hear you break.
your breath caught, the moan slipping out before you could stop it.
âyou wore this just to test me, didnât you?â his breath was hot against your throat, teeth grazing your skin. âknew i wouldnât be able to keep my hands off you.â
your legs flexed tighter, forcing him closer. âdonât get too cocky now, kwon,â you whispered, nails dragging lightly along the back of his neck. ânot everything is about you.â
he let out a short breath, eyes still fixed on yours like you were the only thing in the world.
âyouâre right,â he said, voice rough and edged with amusement. âitâs about you.â
his hands slid higher, up your thighs and under the hem of your skirt.
he pressed you harder into the door with the weight of his body, growling something low and nearly incoherent when your fingers gripped onto the back of his hair.
âyouâre really not gonna say anything now?â he muttered, voice wrecked and laughing against your jaw. âmouthy all night, but the second i touch youââ
your hand fisted his shirt, yanking him back to your mouth.
âshut up,â you breathed against his lips. âyou talk too much.â
his laugh was low against your mouth, swallowed almost instantly by another kiss. this one was hungrier, his lips parting yours like heâd been waiting his whole life for this.
you met him with the same heat, nails still dragging along the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left to take.
his grip under your thighs tightened, lifting you higher with a sharp tug. your gasp spilled into his mouth, legs squeezing around his waist.
the shift tore your back from the door, your weight settling entirely into his arms as he carried you.
you barely realized where he was taking you until the edge of the desk pressed up against your hip.
his arm swept across the desk in one quick motion; monitors, mics, and cables crashing to the floor in a violent clatter. the sound rattled the room, sharp and jarring, but he didnât flinch.
you jerked in his arms, laughing in disbelief. âholy shit, jiââ your voice broke on a gasp, eyes wide. âdo you have any idea how much that shit costs?! itâs not even yourââ
his mouth crashed against yours before you could finish.
the kiss was chaotic and hungry, his teeth catching your bottom lip before his tongue soothed the sting.
your laugh dissolved into a moan, hands clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer even as you tried to catch your breath.
he pulled back just enough to smirk, lips brushing yours as he spoke. âyou think i give a fuck about seunghyunâs shit? i could buy him a new studio by tomorrow,â his grip on your thighs was bruising, forcing you higher against him. âthe only thing i care about right now is you.â
heat flickered low in your stomach, enough to shake your smugness for a beat. you pushed it down fast, tilting your chin like you still had the upper hand.
âmm,â you hummed, soft and teasing, though your pulse betrayed you. âthat almost sounded sweet.â
his mouth twitched; not quite a smile, more like a warning. âalmost?â
your lips curved, eyes glittering with defiance. âguess youâll have to work harder if you want the full compliment.â
his laugh scraped low against your lips, rough enough to vibrate through your chest.
in the same breath, he shifted his hold, lowering you onto the desk in one smooth motion until the cold wood pressed into the backs of your thighs.
âis this how youâre gonna act all night?â he asked, eyes burning into yours.
âdepends,â you murmured with a shrug, eyes gleaming.
his eyes narrowed, the amusement in them razor-sharp. âlay back.â
you stayed where you were, lips twitching like you might say no just to see what heâd do.
his grip slid higher on your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough to drag a gasp out of you. âi said lay back.â
the command rippled through you, leaving no room for argument.
still, you dragged it out, easing yourself down slowly across the desk, just to test him. the cool surface pressed into your back, your legs dangling until he pushed them higher, heels landing on the edge of the desk.
he crowded closer, breath hot against your mouth, hands prying your thighs wider until you couldnât fight the heat pooling in between them. âthatâs better.â
your laugh came out shaky, teasing, the sound skating along the tension. âbossy tonight.â
his mouth grazed your jaw, hot and claiming. âyou like it.â
your pulse stuttered, the curve of your smile faltering slightly, but holding just enough to keep your game. âmaybe i do, daddy.â
his head tilted, eyes narrowing like a predator catching movement in the dark. âyou still think youâre in charge, huh?â
your smile only widened, the brat in you refusing to back down. âa little.â
his mouth hovered just above yours, his words scraping against your lips. âlast time you thought you were in control, i made you beg. do you remember that, baby?â
your breath hitched, the memory flashing hot in your mind, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crack. âvaguely,â you murmured, tone dripping with fake innocence.
âif you want to come tonight, youâre gonna behave,â he murmured, voice so calm it made your pulse stutter harder. âbecause if i even think youâre trying to play me again, iâll keep this pretty pussy begging all night. you understand?â
your lips curled, smug even as your chest rose too fast. âi guess iâll behave,â you murmured, tone feather-light like you were humoring him.
his eyes narrowed, the warning in them flickering darker. the grip at your waist shifted, palm sliding higher until his thumb brushed the edge of your corset.
âbe good and say it right,â the words came out rough, scraping against your lips like a spark waiting to catch.
your pulse jumped, but you dragged it out, lashes lowering like you might make him wait. the look in his eyes warned you against it.
your throat worked once before you let the words slip out. âokay, daddyâŚiâll behave.â
his approval roughened his voice, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his mouth. âgood girl.â
his hands slid down the curve of your thighs until they hooked into the fishnets. the sound of fabric tearing split the air, harsh and unforgiving.
your eyes widened, a shocked laugh breaking free before dissolving into a shiver. âjiââ his name caught halfway between disbelief and a moan, your hips already lifting into his grip.
any thought of protest evaporated under the rush of heat roaming through your body, leaving nothing but want.
his hands didnât hesitate. the ruined edges of the fishnets curled against your skin as he shoved your panties aside, his fingers sliding through the heat of you like heâd been waiting all night for it.
a ragged sound left your throat, sharp and needy, heels digging into the desk as your legs spread wider for him.
your skirt had already ridden up, bunched high on your hips, and the air felt cold against your bare skin compared to the burn of his touch.
he dragged his fingers over you again, slower this time, like he was remembering every slick inch before pressing two of them deep inside of you.
your back arched, a choked gasp breaking free, your head tipping back against the desk.
âfuck, daddyââ your voice cracked when his thumb circled your clit in a steady rythym. your heels scraped uselessly against the desk, the sharp click of them hitting wood echoing in the small room.
his gaze never wavered, locked on your face like he was memorizing every flicker of you unraveling. âlook at you,â he rasped, voice low enough to scrape down your spine. âalready so desperate for me.â
he bent without warning, dropping to his knees at the edge of the desk. his palms spread you wider, forcing your thighs open until the arch of your platform stilettos braced hard against his shoulders.
âkeep âem there,â he ordered, gaze flicking up once. âdonât you dare move.â
you barely had time to nod before his mouth replaced his hand, tongue hot and unrelenting as it dragged through your folds.
the moan that ripped out of you was raw and shameless, hips jerking up into his face like youâd been waiting for this all night.
âoh fuckâdaddy, oh my god,â your moans broke free like a plea, wrecked and unplanned, your heels digging into him harder as if you could lock him there.
his laugh vibrated against your clit, smug and rough all at once. âthatâs it, baby. feels good, huh?â
your answer dissolved into a gasp. âyâyeahââ
he dragged his tongue once more through your slick before pulling back, the heat of his breath ghosting over you. his two fingers slid back inside, quick and deep, until your spine arched against the desk again.
ânot yet,â he murmured, voice rough, his thumb still circling your clit without pause. âyou don't come until i say.â
your nails scraped across the wood, the desk creaking under your grip. âdaddy, iââ your voice broke into a moan. âi'm tryâtryingââ
âhold it,â he ordered, pace quickening, the wet sounds obscene in the small room. âyou can take it, baby.â
your legs trembled around his shoulders, thighs taut, heels digging into his shoulders. âitâsâfuckâitâs too muchââ
his gaze flicked up, steady and dark. âgood. that's the point. stay with me.â
his fingers curled deep, pressing the same spot again and again, while his thumb continued its relentless motion on your clit.
âpleaseâ you gasped, chest heaving. âplease, daddy, i can'tââ
âyes, you can,â he snapped quietly, his rhythm never faltering. âdon't you dare let go.â
your hips jerked anyway, your body betraying you. âiâi can'tâoh godââ
âwait,â he said, calm as ever, while driving you harder into the desk. âyou wait until i tell you.â
you shook your head, breath breaking into sobs of pleasure. âi can't hold itââ
the orgasm ripped through you before you could stop it, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your whole body clenched around his fingers.
he didn't let up, dragging every tremor out of you until you were squirming under his hold.
when he finally pulled his hand free, slick glistening down his wrist, his eyes stayed locked on yours.
he stood slowly, the height difference suddenly overwhelming as he loomed over you, your back still pressed to the desk.
your chest heaved, every nerve still buzzing, the desk cool beneath your back.
he slid a hand beneath your back and pressed firmly, coaxing you upright.
your legs wobbled as he guided you to your feet, stilettos clicking unsteadily against the floor. your body leaned into his without thinking, still weak from the force of your release.
his palm came up to your jaw, firm but not rough, tilting your face until you couldnât look anywhere but at him. âyou didnât listen,â he said, voice even and unshaken. âyou told me youâd behave. you lied.â
your throat tightened, the sting of his words hitting harder than his touch. âiâm soâsorry,â you breathed, shaky and soft. âi didnât meanââ
he cut you off with his mouth, the kiss rough and punishing. you gasped against him, tasting yourself there; the filthy reminder making your body jolt with a mixture of shame and want.
âsorry doesn't fix it,â he said evenly. âyou lied to me. and now you don't get a thing until you earn it.â
before you could reply, he spun you in his grip and bent you forwards, pressing you down against the desk until your cheek met the wood.
your skirt bunched higher at your hips, fishnets torn wide between your thighs, but his hands left you there â completely untouched.
the silence dragged, your pulse pounding loud in your ears. you shifted your hips back, searching for him. "really?" you muttered, breathless but taunting. "you're just gonna make me stand here like this?"
"that's exactly what i'm gonna do," he said, voice low at your ear. "until you remember how to be a good girl and beg properly."
your stomach twisted, heat pulsing low. you had begged before, exactly the way he liked it, and you knew that's what he was waiting for.
still, the stubbornness in you didnât let up. âi thought you liked it when i misbehaved, daddy,â you said, words edged with a shaky laugh.
his hand pressed between your shoulder blades, firm enough to make your chest flatten against the desk. "don't play dumb. you know better."
your lip caught between your teeth, pride buckling under the ache between your legs. "please," you breathed. "please, daddy..."
"not good enough." his tone sharpened, the grip at your back unrelenting. "say it right."
you squeezed your eyes shut, humiliation and want tangling hot in your chest. "please, daddy, please fuck me. i need youâneed your cock. i'll be good, i swear."
his breath ghosted over your ear, voice low and rough. âthere we go, thatâs more like it,â he murmured, using his foot to nudge your legs a little further apart. âgood job, baby.â
you barely had time to breathe before the rasp of his zipper filled the silence.
he stepped in close, pressing the thick head of his cock against the mess between your thighs, dragging it slow along your slick folds just to hear you whimper.
âare you gonna behave now, hm?â he asked, voice still even but edged with threat. âbe a good girl?â
âyesââ your answer broke into a moan as your hips rolled back without permission. âyes, daddy, pleaseââ
his fingers dug into your hip, pinning you still. âi didnât say you could move.â
your breath hitched, your cheek still pressed to the desk, hands clawing at the edge. âiâm sorryââ
he lined himself up at your entrance, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you down, the other still gripping your hip. âstay right here, baby.â
before you could catch your breath, he drove into you with one hard push, burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust. the sudden stretch tore a cry from your throat, the sound splintering as it left you.
âohâmy godââ the words stumbled out, raw and uneven, caught between shock and the rush of pleasure.
he gave you no time to recover, driving his hips forward in a ruthless rhythm, every thrust slamming you harder against the desk.
âdaddyâfuckâtoo muchâtooââ the fragments tumbled after, broken and desperate, every syllable dragged from you in pieces.
your breath came in sharp gasps, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
he didn't allow you the chance to catch your breath, setting a punishing pace that had the desk creaking beneath you. âfuck, you're so tight,â he grunted, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. âyou like it rough, huh?â
you could only moan in response, your body stretching to accommodate him.
every thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine, your walls clenching around his thick length.
he leaned over you, hot breath ghosting over your ear. âthat's it, baby. take my cock like the good girl you are.â
his words sent a shiver down your spine, your toes curling in your heels. you arched your back, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
âpleaseââ the word tore from your throat, high and uneven. âplease, daddyâiâoh fuck,â
he pulled out slow, almost to the tip, drawing a shudder from you, then slammed back in hard enough to skid your palms across the desk.
a broken moan escaped you, catching on a sob.
âyouâre going to take every inch,â he murmured, his thrusts steady and brutal, âand stay right here until youâre shaking for me. understand?â
ây-yesââ your answer cracked into another moan. âyes, daddy, i understandââ
he let out on a rough exhale, the sound laced with possession. âthatâs my girl.â
he didnât falter, every thrust deliberate, drawing you higher, winding you tighter with a rhythm that left no room to breathe.
each stroke carried an intent you couldnât escape, knowing exactly what your body would cling to, what would push you closer and closer to the edge.
âdaddy, please,â you gasped, voice breaking under the strain. âi'm so closeâplease, let meââ
his fingers clamped harder into your hips, his answer a rough growl. ânot yet. you lost it too soon last timeâthis time, you hold it.â
your breath stuttered, head shaking. âi can'tâi can't hold itââ
âyes, you can,â he cut in, steady and unrelenting. âbe good for me. prove that you know how listen, and maybe iâll let you come.â
a helpless whine tumbled out from your lips, your whole body trembling, trying to hold back the unrelenting pressure of pleasure.
âthat's it,â his voice rasped, rough but laced with praise. âyou can do it, my girl.â
his rhythm faltered, breath catching, every word strained with control.
ânow,â he growled, sharp and final. ânow you canâcome for me, baby.â
you broke with a cry, nails scraping the desk as your legs gave out slightly beneath you.
his groan followed, low and guttural against your back, his grip holding you firm as he drove through the last waves of his release, leaving nothing but the sound of the two of you unraveling together.
for a long moment, neither of you moved. the bass from the party was still thudding through the floorboards, but it was too faint to belong to the world you were in now.
he pulled out of you with a rough exhale, causing you to hiss at the sudden loss; your body still raw from the intensity of it all.
his hand moved quickly, tugging your underwear back into place, the torn fishnets stretched clumsily over the evidence heâd left behind.
it wasnât a careful gesture, but more like a claim; a quiet way of keeping you his, even in the smallest details.
he let you go just long enough to yank his pants back into place, the harsh scrape of the zipper cutting through the muffled bass that rattled up from downstairs.
before you could move, his hand was on you again, gripping tightly at your hip like he had no intention of letting you go twice.
âweâre leaving. now.â he said, each word bitten off like he could barely hold them back.
you blinked, still bent against the desk, a laugh bubbling out of you, light and mocking. âleaving? weâve been up here, whatâtwenty minutes? the boys are gonna wonder why hugh hefner disappeared with his bunny so fast.â
âlet them wonder. i donât give a fuck.â his words came fast, urgent, like he couldnât get them out quick enough. âi canât stand another second of this party, not with you like this. i need you out of here. with me.â
you pushed yourself upright on unsteady legs, turning to face him, your body swaying until you were pressed flush against his, the air between you gone before you even realized it.
âwhat if i say i want to go back downstairs? grab a drink, dance a little?â you teased, testing just how far you could push him when he was already strung so tight.
âalways running that mouth,â he muttered, his breath brushing yours, eyes burning into you as he shakes his head. âtrouble. youâre nothing but trouble.â
the laugh slipped out of you instantly, soft and breathless against his lips, your smirk curling as you tipped your chin higher. âmm, but you canât get enough of it, can you, daddy?â you murmured, daring him to deny it.
his grip tightened, dragging you even closer, your chest pressed hard against his. his reply came fast, every syllable pronounced like he was hanging on by a thread. âyouâre rightâi canât. thatâs why weâre leaving.â
you opened your mouth to argue, or maybe to make another smart comment, but paused when he took a single step back.
without a word, his hands moved to the collar of his robe, sliding it from his shoulders in one slow, practiced motion.
âji,â you started, confused, âwhat are youââ
he stepped in close again, though something in him had shifted.
the intensity that had driven every touch just minutes ago had softened; melted into something quieter, like the hush that follows a storm.
he reached for you without a word, settling the silk robe over your shoulders with a touch so careful it made your chest ache. his fingers ghosted along your collarbone as he adjusted it, smoothing the fabric down like he never wanted to let you go.
âcovering you up,â he murmured like it was obvious. âyour skirtâs riding up, and your tights areâŚâ he let the sentence trail off with a breath. âyeah.â
you laughed, shaking your head at the memory of him aggressively ripping them a few moments ago. âand whose fault is that?â
his eyes met yours, something softer flickering behind the usual fire. âmine,â he said simply. âthatâs why iâm fixing it.â
the robe was warm from his body, smooth against your skin, smelling faintly like cologne and something expensive you couldnât quite name.
it settled heavily over your shoulders; not in weight, but in meaning.
you turned around, the fabric shifting with you, and spotted something of yours that was left on the floor earlier.
your bunny ears.
you walked towards the door and picked them up, turning back to him with a grin. âsince iâm taking your clothes,â you said lightly, holding the ears up between you, âitâs only fair.â
before he could protest, you reached up and placed them on his head, adjusting them with exaggerated care.
he blinked at you, bunny ears crooked on his head, looking both ridiculous and completely unbothered.
âseriously?â he asked under his breath, shaking his head with the faintest smile.
you smiled, leaning up without thinking to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. âyou love it,â you whispered, just close enough for him to hear.
his grin came boyish and lopsided, like he knew you were right and had no intention of pretending otherwise.
his hand found yours a moment later, fingers lacing tight with a grip that carried more urgency than words ever could.
âletâs go,â he said, already tugging you towards the door.
you followed, stepping over the mess heâd made; seunghyunâs monitor flat on its face, the mic stand snapped clean in half, the mix table halfway under the desk.
âyouâre telling him about this,â you said, eyes sweeping the wreckage.
jiyong barely looked back. âhe likes you more.â
you gave his hand a squeeze, shooting him a look. âthatâs not how this works.â
âsure it is,â he grinned, tugging you along. âi cause the damage, you soften the blow. itâs a team effort.â
you were both laughing by the time you hit the hallway, hand in hand, trying not to trip over each other or the sheer chaos that the two of you had left behind.
the closer you got to the stairs, the louder the party became; bass thudding through the walls, voices bubbling up the stairwell, laughter spilling over the music.
you were almost halfway down when the three of them came into view.
seunghyun, youngbae, and daesung stood clustered at the bottom landing, drinks in hand, mid-conversation. their heads turned at the sound of footsteps, and all three sets of eyes landed on you instantly.
youngbae blinked first. âwaitâwhat are you wearing?â
âis that his robe?â daesung tilted his head.
âwhy are you wearing her bunny ears?â seunghyun asked, genuine confusion laced in his voice.
jiyong didnât even pause. âshe gave them to me.â
the three of them froze, eyes flicking between you and jiyong like they were piecing together a puzzle they werenât sure they wanted solved.
seunghyun seemed to be the one who connected the dots first, his gaze narrowing, cutting straight through the two of you.
âyou better not have fucked in my bed,â he said flatly.
you didnât even blink. âwe didnât,â you said, voice light with innocence.
for a moment, it almost worked. seunghyunâs shoulders loosened. youngbae raised a brow. daesung looked like he might believe you.
âbut,â you added, like it was an afterthought, âhe does sort of owe you a new studio.â
seunghyunâs voice went flat. âmy studio. what the hell happened to it?â
ânothing happened,â jiyong said quickly, his hand tightening around yours as he started nudging you towards the door. âabsolutely nothing. weâre leaving.â
âleaving?!â daesung shouted, stepping slightly in front of you. âyou just got here.â
âyouâre not even drunk yet!â youngbae added, almost offended.
âi made you a drink,â seunghyun said, holding out the glass like a peace offering. âa good one.â
you took it from his hand without missing a beat. âperfect. for the road.â
jiyong looked like he was about to combust. âbabyâplease.â
you grinned at the boys as you backed towards the door. âlove you all. invest in locks for your doors, oppa. they would have saved you a lot of money tonight.â
âwhat did you doââ seunghyun shouted, but jiyong had already dragged you outside before you could answer.
the car door had barely shut behind you before he exhaled hard, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
you turned towards him, the buzz of chaos behind you replaced by something softer. âyou okay?â
he didnât answer right away. his eyes stayed fixed on the dark stretch of driveway ahead, the crooked bunny ears still clinging to his head like some sad attempt at comedy.
you reached across the middle console, fingers brushing his temple as you straightened them. âyou look ridiculous.â
he let out a small breath, barely more than a sigh.âyou look better in that robe than i ever did.â
the words came quiet, almost offhanded, but something in his tone made you pause. there was no teasing behind it; just honesty, laid bare.
your hand lingered near his face before falling to your lap, fingers curling slightly.
the shift in energy was subtle, but it settled heavy between you. whatever rush you'd both been riding earlier had finally begun to settle into something slower. something real.
you caught the way his jaw moved, slow and tense, like he was chewing on something he didnât know how to say.
âwhatâs going on in that head of yours?â you asked gently.
he exhaled again, slower this time. âi just keep thinking about that night.â
you stayed quiet, allowing him the space to open up.
âthe night of the concert,â he clarified. âwhen you left.â
your stomach turned. not from guilt, but from the way his voice shifted; like it physically pained him to think about it.
âyou ignored every call. every text.â his eyes stayed on the driveway, unfocused. âi kept checking the side curtain like an idiot. like maybe youâd just walk back in.â
you swallowed, heart thudding against your ribs.
âi was supposed to be working. performing. everyone was screaming my name, and all i could doâŚâ his hand lifted like it might explain something, but dropped again. âall i could do was stare at the empty spot where you shouldâve been standing.â
you turned a little more towards him, silk pooling at your elbows, the scent of his cologne rising with the shift.
he still wouldnât look at you.
âi donât ever want to feel that again,â he said, his voice so low it barely reached you. ânot the silence. not the distance. not you walking away like that. it felt like i lost the other half of me.â
his hand flexed where it rested near the gearshift, fingers twitching like they still remembered reaching for nothing. âi donât care whoâs watching, or what it looks like from the outside, or how messy it gets. i donât care anymore. i just canât lose you like that again, y/n.â
your chest ached in the quiet that followed. his words didnât feel rehearsed; they felt scraped out from somewhere deeper.
honest. tired. a little scared.
you reached for him again, your fingers brushing his before lifting up to his face, coaxing him to look at you.
âyou didnât lose me,â you said gently. ânot that night. not ever. i was mad, yeah. a little hurt too.â
his eyes stayed fixed on yours, searching for something in your expression.
âwhen you were outside my door that night,â you said evenly, almost like youâd been waiting to get the words out, âi heard you. every word. the knocking. the way you kept saying my name.â
you squeezed his hand, your thumb tracing slow over his skin. âi slept on the floor,â you admitted, âright up against the doorâbecause it was the closest i could be to you without actually opening it.â
his gaze lingered on you for a moment, before a quiet laugh escaped him. âyouâre so damn stubborn,â he said, shaking his head, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him.
the sound loosened something in your chest, and you couldnât help but smile. âmaybe. but you stayed out there too.â
âof course i did,â the words came sure, without a flicker of doubt.
his thumb kept moving over your knuckles, slow and absent, like he couldnât stop touching you now that heâd started.
âiâm done pretending,â he said quietly, the words steady but stripped bare. âdone acting like youâre not the best thing in my life. i donât want pieces of this anymore. i want the real thing. mornings. nights. shows. silence. all of it.â
your chest pulled tight at the certainty in his tone, a slow ache rising under your ribs. âso what does that mean for us?â you asked, your voice barely above a breath.
he didnât waver. not even for a second. âit means i want everything,â he said. âwhatever it takes. however messy it gets. i just want you.â
you leaned in until your forehead touched his, your breath mixing with his in the small space between you.
the bunny ears on his head brushed against your hair, ridiculous and perfect all at once, like a quiet promise neither of you needed to name.
âgood,â you whispered, a smile curling at the edge of your lips. âbecause youâve got me.â
he raised your hand slowly, brushing his mouth over your knuckles with a tenderness that made your chest ache.
your smile tugged softly at first, but it shifted as you leaned back into your seat, mischief sneaking into your voice. ânow drive, g-daddy,â you said, biting back a grin. âround twoâs not gonna start itself.â
summary: Your youngest daughter finally follows in her sister's footsteps as a troublemaker - terrifying you and your husband in the process
A/N: she's backkkkkk - revived by a night in paris with the hubby and wifey!! i'll probably share some content from the concert but my heart was longing for some gdad. so please enjoy xx
âWhat about this one?â
You turned, running a hand over the silk fabric as it rippled against your body.Â
âHmm,â Jiyong tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. âAre you wearing any underwear?â
He was sprawled across the bed, hands folded behind his head, eyes fixed entirely on you. His phone buzzed against his stomach, screen lighting up over and over, but he hadnât checked it once since youâd stepped out of the wardrobe in a bra begging for his help.
Which you were coming to realise wasnât very helpful.Â
Your husband was renowned for his impeccable fashion choices, a trendsetter even when heâd show up to the school run in a dressing gown.
But he was easily distracted.
And when it came to you dashing around your bedroom in tight skirts or sheer dresses, heâd been unable to focus on the task at hand.Â
You scoffed and threw your hands down. âJi, this is the one time Iâm asking you for your brutal fashion criticism. Be mean. Tell me it looks bad.âÂ
âBut I canât!â he laughed, springing his arms wide, âJagi, I canât help if you look good in everything.â
You shot him a scowl and stalked back into the wardrobe. âGo back to doomscrolling on Instagram.âÂ
His chuckle followed you as you stared miserably at the rows of clothes. Youâd been asked to perform for a charity show and it would be the first time you were appearing on stage since having Angel. The pressure of picking the right outfit pressed on you harder than the silk straps digging into your shoulders.
As your thoughts turned to your children you paused, ears tuning into the quiet atmosphere around you.
It was too quiet.
Theyâd left you and Jiyong alone for too long.Â
Diva was definitely up to something.Â
Right on cue a loud clang echoed down the hall and your shoulders dropped from their tense position.Â
Ah, there it was.Â
You could hear Jiyong and Diva talking, their voices growing louder as they appeared behind you. He was holding Diva under the arms like a misbehaving kitten, depositing her in the entrance to your wardrobe.Â
âStay with Eomma,â he warned her with a pointed brow before looking up at you. âIâve just got to clean something up... Oh, try that one on, Jagi!â He pointed at a hanging dress before fleeing.Â
You stared at Diva and she stared right back at you.Â
âSo whatâd you do then?â You finally asked with a sigh, pulling the dress from the hanger as you turned to face her.Â
She held onto the door handle, swinging back and forth as she puffed out her cheeks. âNothing!â She huffed, jamming her fingers into the little keyhole. âIt were Jemi.â She said with a mumble, as if the front of her top wasnât covered with water.Â
You knew for a fact it wasnât her sister - who was sleeping peacefully in her crib. But it was Divaâs new go-to-answer.Â
Who climbed the counter and ate all the cookies? Jemi.Â
Who tore all the houseplants out of their pots? Jemi.Â
And now, her current mission was filling the cat's water bowl herself. Even though you and Jiyong always asked her to wait for one of you to help her.Â
It seemed like her task was unsuccessful by the way she looked drenched in most of it.Â
âJemi barely crawls yet, sweetheart.â You reminded her. âYouâll have to go back to blaming Zoa and Iye for now.âÂ
She stopped swinging and threw her hand out. âBut sheâs walking!â
âWalking?â Your eyes widened. If she was walking youâd definitely know about it.Â
Jiyong got the chubby baby up every morning and put her on the living room carpet, trying to coax her into moving with trails of baby snacks and promises of teething toys.Â
She seemed content to just sit there and wait until he caved.
After all, why would she bother moving if he always carried her around anyway?
His favourite fashion accessory was a ridiculously expensive custom Chanel baby carrier. If those two were leaving the house, Angel was somewhere comfortably tucked beneath chiffon black and white bows.Â
Diva gave up her defense and wandered over to a pair of trousers hanging by the door, tugging at the string of diamonds stitched into the waist.
âPretty,âÂ
You softened, pulling them free. âI forgot I even had theseâŚâ you pressed the fabric to your leg, memories flooding back of Jiyong surprising you with a custom pair to wear on stage.Â
Of course, he had a matching set.
âHmm,â you tilted your head and then looked at your daughter. âYou know, maybe I should start taking your fashion advice over Appaâs.âÂ
âI know!â She nodded with a grin and the two of you giggled.Â
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âCome on,â Jiyong cooed, crouched low with Angel balanced between his palms. âJust one step for Appa.âÂ
From your seat in front of the mirror, you caught the scene over your stylistâs shoulder. She tugged your head this way and that, pins clinking into place, but it was impossible not to be entertained.
âSheâs not going to,â you sang lightly as Angel drew her feet up again like the floor was lava. Or, more likely, just a lot colder than her fatherâs arms.
âPut your feet down,â he tutted gently. She kept her pink-socked toes hovering stubbornly above the ground. âAish, you just want to be held all the time, donât you?â
He scooped her back against his chest with a resigned little sigh, settling into the sofa and rubbing her back. You knew he loved it, though. The way his hand fussed with fixing her collar gave him away.Â
âWhy the sudden rush to have her walking?â you asked, wincing when your hair was yanked a little too tight.
âI have plans,â he murmured in response.Â
âWhat plans?âÂ
âNothing!â
He gave you a cheery smile in the mirror and you narrowed your eyes but let it go as Diva made her presence known, coming to stand beside you in the make up chair.Â
âWhen were I walking Eomma?âÂ
She was pulling on the string of diamonds hanging from your belt again, twisting it and watching as they caught in the light.Â
âOh gosh,â You laughed as you thought about when your eldest first found her footing. âYou were up and running by nine months old. Appa and I couldnât keep up with you.âÂ
Diva grinned, clearly impressed with herself. âI were very fast.âÂ
âYes,â You and Jiyong answered at the same time, sharing a smile.Â
Although Angel was over a year old now, sheâd get there eventually. Every baby was different.
The paediatrician called her simply âlazyâ and your husband had bristled at the word, immediately rebranding her as âpamperedâ.
An assistant poked her head in to call you to the stage and you exhaled loudly. You squeezed Diva tightly, muting her protests with kisses before descending upon Jiyong and Angel.Â
âOne more, one more,â Jiyong muttered, lips puckered and you obliged, giving him one last kiss before heading towards the door.Â
âBe good for Appa!â You called behind your back as you were ushered out.Â
âWe love you!âÂ
Jiyong then sighed and leaned back looking at Diva. She eyed the door you had just left through.Â
âDonât even think about it.â he warned, âI still have your little harness bag. Donât make me use it, Princess.âÂ
âNo!â She stomped dramatically at the light threat, running to hide behind a chair. She knew she should have cut the straps to that damn thing the last time she had her craft scissors.Â
đŠâĄđŞ đŠâĄđŞ đŠâĄđŞ
Despite keeping his two girls confined to your dressing room, Jiyong was finding it very hard to maintain his title of fun Appa, devoted husband, and famous idol.Â
His eyes flitted between the tv currently screening the performance, the baby laid out on the playmat, and Diva who kept lingering too close to the exit. It was like a revolving door, assistants and staff running in and out, grabbing and moving things, he was so close to just locking it and telling everyone else to just fuck off.Â
He wanted to watch you.Â
And god he was exhausted.Â
Jiyong had been known to sleep walk when he was anxious and with his tour ongoing, the two of you were waking periodically throughout the early hours of the morning to find Angel somehow wedged between you or on Divaâs carpet, fast asleep.Â
It was stressing him out to no end, worried about her safety but you reminded him she didnât exactly move yet.
Although, the moment she did choose to finally start moving on her own, heâd have to strap himself to the bed to stop his unconscious Appa brain from picking her up in his sleep.Â
âNo I canât do that date,â he muttered into his phone, eyes glued to the monitor. âMhm. Paris would be good. We like Paris,âÂ
The girls were playing together behind him, his eyes turning back every so often to check on them.Â
Just then the door burst open and he jolted, spinning as a flash of light blinded him. A small gaggle of paparazzi descended, snapping all the photos they could as he shoved them out, throwing his arm up to shield their view from his girls.Â
âHey!â He yelled at them, phone dropped to his side as he pushed their cameras back.
Fury burned through the exhaustion.
âDonât you have any respect? Get the fuck away from my family!â
They backed off when he yelled for security and he watched them flee down the corridor with a scoff. He lifted his phone back to his ear.Â
âYeah, yeah, weâre fine,â he muttered into the receiver at last, voice flat as he turned back toward the dressing room. âLetâs just make sure to increase security. I want at least two per family member.âÂ
He slammed the door behind him, clicking the lock shut with a sigh and then looked to Diva who was on the floor, head down as she counted to herself. Â
Jiyong stared.
The phone fell to the floor.
âWhereâs Jemi?âÂ
Diva glanced up, wide-eyed, and gave the tiniest shrug.
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You returned to chaos.Â
Security swarmed your dressing room, walkie-talkies blaring, men and women darting in every direction.
And in the middle of it all - your husband sat on the sofa, crying. His arms locked around Diva like if he loosened his grip even slightly, sheâd vanish too.
âItâs ok,â you whispered, crouching in front of him, clutching his knee.
âItâs not though, is it?â His voice cracked, muffled against Divaâs hair. âItâs my fault. Youâre going to leave me, and then Jia will hate me and Iâll be some sad, lonely drunk... I just want my cuddly baby back.âÂ
The words broke into a fresh round of sobs, and your lips trembled as you stared at him.
You wanted her back too.
The moment youâd come off stage, youâd been met with pale, anxious faces. Youâd run, furious, through the halls as they locked down the venue. But when you saw your husband like this - crumpled and broken, clinging to your daughter - you knew blame could wait.
Right now, you had to hold each other up.
âWeâll find her,â You croaked, âShe canât have gone far,âÂ
He lifted his head, eyes red, nose raw. âShe canât even crawl yet, Y/n.âÂ
You shared a teary glance.
You knew what he was implying. The fact that no one had found her yet, even if it had only been mere moments.
Someone might have taken her.
There was no way she could have escaped that far by tummy shuffling.Â
His words made you choke on a sob and you stood, climbing forward and onto his other knee. His arm immediately wrapped around you as you silently cried into his neck, you didnât want Diva to see her parents like this.Â
âYouâre crying, Eomma,â Diva mumbled with a little frown and Jiyong drew her closer, hand cradling her head to his chest as he held both of you. âIt were just a game,â She said, cheeks squished.Â
âA game?â You sniffed, wiping your face as you looked at her more clearly.Â
Diva nodded, trying to pull away from her father but he had a strong grip. âHide and seek.âÂ
You inhaled sharply, âW-what?â You sat straighter and gently grasped her hands in yours. âJia, sweetheart, what do you mean? Whereâs your sister?âÂ
âI not found her yet! Appa grabbed me first. And she's kinda fast tooâŚâ Diva huffed, looking to the side with a pout.Â
âBaby, she canât - â Jiyong was shaking his head but you were already pulling out of his embrace, lifting Diva and setting her on her feet.Â
âCan you find her for me? Which way did she go?â You asked, kneeling in front of her, eyes wide with hope.Â
âThatâs cheating Eomma. I have to find her.âÂ
âJia, Jia,â You smoothed down her hair. âAppa will buy you whatever you want. Show us which way she went.âÂ
Diva smiled and then pointed to a vent on the wall. You stared at it in disbelief.
Are you kidding me?
Those Kwon genes really were dangerous.
Jiyong leaped to his feet, crashing to his knees in front of the metal grate. With the strength of a desperate father, he tore the thing straight from the wall, not bothering with unlatching it.Â
âJiyong!â You snapped. âYou canât just go in there. You might make it collapse.âÂ
âOur baby could be in there, Y/n!â He shot back, already crawling inside on his hands and knees.Â
âIâll go,â Diva volunteered, tugging on your pants.
âAbsolutely not.â You snatched her hand. âYouâre glued to me.â
She sighed but didnât resist.
Jiyong hadnât gone far when he froze with a gasp.
Your heart plummeted. âW-what?!â
Then his voice softened into an awed coo. âMy babyâŚlook at you!â
âSheâs in there?!â You ducked down, trying to see, but all you caught was the view of his generous backside in tight Levi jeans.
âSheâs standing!â he laughed. âOh, sheâs walking! Thatâs it, come to Appa, Princess.â
âSheâs walking? Move your big head!â you snapped, but he was already shuffling backwards.
You retreated, dragging Diva with you as he emerged. With a grunt, he toppled back onto the floor - and Angel stumbled out, tiny legs wobbly, before collapsing into his lap.
You surged forward, wrapping your arms around them both, Diva still tethered to your hand.Â
Angel was giggling as you peppered her with a thousand kisses, her Appa doing the same on the other side of her face.Â
Then a little throat cleared.
You glanced at Diva, who planted her palm on Jiyongâs shoulder with a solemn expression. âSo⌠can I have a pony now?â
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âI canât believe weâre allowing this,â you sighed, thumbing through endless photos of horses on your phone.
Beside you in bed, Jiyong only nodded, eyes glued to the baby monitor balanced on his lap. Hours had passed since Angelâs dramatic escape, but he hadnât let her out of his sight since.
Heâd wanted her in the bed with you two but you reminded him she was safer tucked between her four wooden bars.
âWhere are we even going to keep it?âÂ
âThe garden,â he shrugged, running a finger over his lip as he watched the monitor. Angel was lying down, occasionally kicking her blanket as she soothed herself to sleep. âIâll have a stable built.âÂ
You rolled your eyes.
As if Diva couldnât be more of a Princess - she already had a real diamond tiara.
And now she was getting a horse.Â
âGod, theyâre so spoiled,â you muttered, saving a picture of a Shetland pony anyway.
âYep,â Jiyong said proudly. âTheyâre my girls.â Then he looked over, smirk tugging his lips, and swept an arm around you, pulling you onto his chest. âYouâre my girl too. Anything you want while Iâm feeling sentimental and generous?â
âA vacation,â you mumbled into his shoulder, feeling your feet ache from hours in heels. âSomewhere with snow so they canât run away from us.âÂ
It still felt surreal - Angel was walking now.
Maybe she had been for a while.
Maybe Diva hadnât been lying all those times sheâd blamed herâŚ
You felt his grin against your skin as he kissed your cheek, lingering. âHmm. Not a bad idea. Youâre clingier when youâre cold. And I can think of a few ways to keep you warmâŚâ
His lips slid down your jaw to your neck. Your eyelids drooped, ready to melt, when something on the monitor made you bolt upright.
âOh my god.â
âJagi, I know Iâm good, but Iâve barely touched you yet,â he teased, trying to pull you back down.
âNot you,â you hissed, snatching the monitor from his lap.
He shot upright. âWhat? What is it?â
The two of you watched a little figure storm into Angelâs room, the door flying open at her arrival. Diva came thundering through, dragging her enormous pink beanbag behind her, parking it right in front of the crib.Â
Angel seemed to be expecting this, slowly climbing to her feet and holding the bars for support.Â
You then watched with wide eyes as Diva launched herself over the side of the cot, landing ungracefully beside her sister.Â
âIs she - â Jiyong cut himself off when he witnessed his eldest daughter grab her baby sister, heaving her up and out of the crib, dropping her straight onto the soft landing.
She soon followed with a roll and flop, and then the girls ran out of the room together.Â
You slowly turned your head towards Jiyong in disbelief. âSo thatâs how sheâs been getting outâŚâÂ
âHmm.â He pressed his lips together, failing to hide a smile. âSo it wasnât me, then.â
âI guess not.â
He collapsed against the headboard, covering his mouth to muffle a giggle. You bit your lip, torn between disapproval and awe.
âDo we⌠tell them off?â he asked, listening to the faint thunder of little feet down the hallway.
âTheyâre probably going to play in Jiaâs room.â You exhaled, checking the time on your phone. â...Weâll give them twenty minutes.â
âWeâre good parents,â he said with a short nod, flicking the monitor off.
âOh the best.â
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the blue hair is just too good. i couldn't stay away. i have a few more posts planned and in the works!! i've missed you all. im sorry for being away for so long :((
this series is purely ridiculous, self-indulgent, chaos but i hope my delusions can make someone else smile <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
order 25 of moonqz record store a special - plus a regular request! !! thank you mlsđŤ
pairing : kwon jiyong x fem!italian!reader (anyone can read)
genre : fluff, intimate, eventual smut (MDNI)
description : when you find out youâre in the same hotel as your idol, and the reason you were in Paris, youâre unsure to react, especially when the following night he takes you home from his concert, spending the night with you. what you find out a couple weeks later, of innocent talking, being without labels, makes everything a lot more difficult.
warnings / contents : fan-idol w benefits, eventual pregnancy, reader has a slight italian accent, eventual smut (unprotected sex, piv, soft praise, aftercare)
so i combined 3 different requests for this because they were similar so i hope you enjoy !! đ¤ and in honour of gdâs concert in paris i brought the requests forward slightly !! (im so envious, i cried the whole night </3) this is lowkey giving 2015 fanfic core, and IM SO SORRY for the inactivity the past few days :(
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You originally came to Paris for your idols concert, the hotel lobby feeling too large, too empty on a restless night, full of anticipation and jet lag twining together.
The receptionist was half asleep behind the desk, leaving you alone with the soft hum of the vending machine and one of many couches you had allowed yourself to sit on.
The hotel was a nice one, not too over the top, but fancy enough for you to feel slightly out of place amongst the tall ceilings and artistic surroundings you werenât quite used to.
Your outfit for the following night was hung up, idle, having being prepared maybe months before the concert.
He sauntered in half an hour later, outfit too fashionable for a middle of the night escapade, freshly dyed hair tucked under a cap.
His presence was guarded despite the fact that the overall scene of the hotel lobby was quiet, secluded.
You didnât look at him at first, assuming it was just another random person hoping to get away from the overly cramped hotel rooms.
But an undeniable stillness in the air, a quiet gravity, pulled your eyes from the pages of your magazine.
Jiyong was there. Not on a screen, not a poster, not a figment of your imagination, but a person sitting just a few feet away, the sudden, stark reality of his presence hitting you like a tidal wave.
It felt impossible. The world around you seemed to mute, the sounds of the lobby fading into a distant hum.
All that existed was the space between you and him. You watched the subtle movements of his hands as he scrolled, the slight furrow in his brow as he focused on his phone, the way the light from the lamp caught the newly dyed strands of his hair.
It was a moment you had dreamed of, fantasized about, but now that it was real, it was terrifying.
A thousand conflicting emotions rushed through you. A desperate, almost painful joy to be so close, a feeling of disbelief that this was happening, and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy.
You were just another person in a hotel lobby. To him, you were nothing. To you, he was everything.
The weight of that settled heavy in your chest, a suffocating silence in a room filled with noise.
You wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh, to run away. Instead, you just sat there, frozen, a witness to your own heartbreak and wonder.
How were you meant to approach this? Considering it was late at night you could only guess that he wanted fresh air, or jet lag, not something that screamed âgive me attentionâ.
You knew youâd regret it for the rest of your life if you chose to ignore his prevented. But then also, how could you just invade his space like this?
Your head turned back down to your phone, unsure of what to even do with yourself now that he was just a couple movements away from you.
Jiyong sat oblivious to the turmoil going on inside your head, or just blatantly ignoring it,
Suddenly, he stood and walked towards the lobby's small coffee bar. Your heart hammered against your ribs.
As he waited for his order, he glanced over, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, startling second.
He offered a small, polite smile before turning back, more like a moment in passing than anything.
You felt nervousness creep up your neck, but a voice in your head urged you to be normal, not a crazed fan whilst the man was simply trying to get a drink.
As he walked back with his coffee, he stopped at your couch, making your heart that was just beginning to settle slightly, leap back into your throat.
âMind if I sit here?" he asked, his voice softer and deeper than you had imagined, charged with jet lag and a will to just exist for one.
It wasnât a question you were meant to refuse, more like a polite formality.
You shook your head, unable to form words, your throat contracting at the sight of him in person.
Jiyong sat down, a comfortable distance away, the silence stretching between you for a little bit.
âare you looking forward to the concert?â he asked you after a few moments, and all you could think about was that he was talking to you.
But then also, did he just assume that everyone in Paris was going to his concert?
The thought, ridiculous and completely human, brought a small, private smile to your lips.
It was a good thing to remember, that he wasn't just a perfect idol on a stage, but a person who might have a moment of quiet arrogance.
âhow do you know Iâm going to the concert?â you questioned lightly, the slightest bit of an accent coming through your words.
Jiyong smiled, a genuine politeness, adjusting his hat, âyouâre wearing the wristbandâ he pointed out, leaving you wanting to melt into the floor at the sound of his voice.
You had forgotten you were wearing it. You wanted to sink back into your chair at the sound of his voice and the casual way he had just dismantled your attempt at sounding nonchalant.
A blush crept up your neck, and you instinctively tugged on the sleeve of your sweatshirt to cover the neon fabric.
He didn't seem to notice your flustered state, his attention already shifting, he continued, leaning forward slightly, his eyes sparkling with a genuine interest that made your breath catch, "is this your first time seeing me live?"
âwhat, as in right now, or the concert?â you shoot back quickly, a hint of a grin tugging at your lips both from the moment and the fact you were convinced you were gonna wake up any moment now and it all be fake.
He huffed a small laugh, âthe concertâ he voiced, leaning back into his seat, the dark blue strands you werenât expecting to see, peaking through the hat.
Your composure faltered slightly hearing his laugh in real time, directed at you, âyeah it is thenâ you speak, trying to contain the shakiness within your voice.
Jiyong looked at you then with a puzzled expression, making a sudden fear rush through your body, âwhat?â
âthe accentâ he told you, more like a question, and you almost sighed in relief, leaning back into your own chair, mirroring his previous action,
âwhat about it?â you asked softly, confused as to why he was looking at you like he was trying to figure you out, his sight on you making you feel insecure and strangely happy that he even noticed you.
âare you Italian?â he voiced finally, and you caught yourself grinning back slightly at his gummy smile, with a small, apprehensive nod of your head.
"Thatâs a long way to travelâ he added lightly, his voice tinged with a note of genuine admiration, âI'm honored."
"It's worth it" you commented, your voice gaining a little more confidence as you looked at him properly, body in almost aftershock.
âWhatâs your name?â The G-Dragon was asking you your name and you could only hand him back splattered, nervous syllables.
The awkwardness was slowly melting away, replaced by a surreal, quiet comfort that you used to get through your headphone speakers.
You had been a fan for so long, and yet, sitting here, you realized you were just having a conversation with a person.
A famous person, yes, one who basically had a mini shrine in your room, but a person nonetheless.
"What's your favorite part of the city so far?" he asked, shifting in his seat. It was a simple question, but it felt loaded with meaning, as if he was genuinely curious about the experiences of someone who had traveled so far to see him.
âi havenât really had time to see much yetâ you spoke, stammering over your words slightly, gesturing vaguely around the pristine hotel lobby, âSo, this is the most exciting thing I've seen so far."
You immediately regretted the words. It sounded so cheesy. You braced yourself for a polite, practiced laugh, the kind he probably gave to thousands of fans. But instead, a genuine, warm smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes.
His grin lingered, softer than you had expected, not the rehearsal charm of a stage persona, but something unguarded, almost boyish.
âThatâs cuteâ he commented finally, his voice somewhat quieter now, as if the walls of the lobby didnât need to hear it.
Nerves buzzed in your chest, ânot exactly the view i get every day from homeâ you voiced about the fact that he was sitting next to you, somehow having shifted a little closer to you than before, without you or him realising it.
There was a beat of silence, not an uncomfortable one, just a thought out one, âme neitherâ he added on, and suddenly the weight of the situation was pressing down onto every fibre of your body.
It was almost disarming, how direct he was, like he hadnât learnt the art of polite distraction.
âAm i really the most exciting thing youâve seen in Paris so far?â The words shouldâve counted for cockiness, but his lazy grin made it impossible to take it in a bad light.
âI didnât mean it like that-â you sputtered out defensively, a hint of a playful something tugging at your own lips.
âMmâ he interrupted, tilting his head, pretending to think it over in that natural, Jiyong way that he does, âbut thatâs what you saidâ
Jiyong finished, his words mulling over in the air as teasing, something you did not expect, although who could expect their idol to be under the same roof as them as pure coincidence.
âYouâre impossibleâ you speak, face heating as you covered it with your hands before you could stop yourself.
When you finally peeked at him, he was watching, smile gentler as he chuckled, like this was more fun than the tour he had been on, âyou blush really easilyâ
It was just an observation, but the words, as simple as they are, landed with a apsara and a pit left in your stomach, âyou canât just say things like thatâ
âWhy not? I like seeing what makes people reactâ he voiced like it was obvious, his tone quiet but edged with something you couldnât placed, curiosity threading through his words.
You couldnât hold his gaze for long, it was too steady, too much, like he could see through every layer and fan girl energy you tried to mask, desperately, as to not freak him out.
Jiyong glanced at his buzzing phone before turning back to you, and you already knew this moment was going to end whether you liked it or not,
âIâll see you at the concert tomorrow?â He asked you, putting his phone back into his pocket, as if he was going to notice you tomorrow in the midst of thousands of fans.
You nodded, unsure of whether you should be relieved that he was going or not, mainly because you were certain that you were gonna combust if he smiled at you like that again.
âThank youâ he murmured sultry before he left back through to the elevator doors, the penthouse floor you assumed he was on, being clicked on the buttons.
You werenât sure what he was thanking you for, you should be thanking him, for breathing in the same vicinity as you, let alone holding a conversation, which you were ninety nine percent sure you looked like an idiot the whole time.
Jiyongâs pent house hotel room was too quiet, Paris glittered outside of his window, but all he could think about was your voice and how you looked at him in the lobby.
You were wide eyed at first, flustered to the point you were stammering out sentences but more genuine in a way he didnât see often anymore.
You didnât scream at him or even ask for a photo or autograph or anything, which whilst he appreciated his fans, it was a relief to see someone who was more than content with just talking to him.
He tossed his phone between his hands, mindlessly, debating with himself before finally deciding to dial the number.
âHyung?â A voice spoke, one of his closer staff members, voice tired but clearly not having been asleep, it seemed like the whole team was suffering from the jet lag of the trip, âeverything okay?
âYeah, fineâ Jiyong hesitated, phone limp in his hands as he sat back against the headboard of the overly elegant bed frame before he continued,
âlisten, do you think you could find someone on the guest list for tomorrow?â he pondered, eyes over the television screen although it wasnât even on.
The man over the line hummed lightly for a moment, âis it a friend or something? whatâs their name hyung?â
Jiyong ignored the first question before he answered shortly, ây/nâ he voiced, and he could hear the man over the phone tapping away at something before he paused,
âHyung..do you not have a last name?â he spoke, and Jiyong cursed mentally, shaking his head for a moment although the man couldnât see him,
âno. can you just see what you find?â Jiyong asked, eyes fluttering shut out of tiredness but no willingness to sleep.
The man on the line spoke, âiâll see what can doâ making Jiyong thank him swiftly before the call cut dead, leaving him with the small sound if the hotel mini fridge and a small downpour outside the hotel room.
Jiyong dwelled on this, it could be the most stupid decision of his life trying to see a fan.
But as cliche as it sounded, you seemed genuine, not scrounging for clout or a picture, just a soothing, although nervous, presence.
He text back a couple minutes later, as the clock on the wall ticked to three am, âHyung, I canât find much without a last name, Iâm sorryâ
Jiyong sighed lightly, having expected it, although surely it couldnât be that hard to find her himself?
They were in the same hotel, she was going to his concert.
He couldnât ignore the tight feeling in his chest that night, anticipating the show tomorrow.
Although, his thoughts were never about the concert.
You left the concert the next night with a heavy heart, confetti under your shoes, tears cried into your skin and a phone with no storage left.
And yet, even in that stadium, where your throat was raw from screaming, you couldnât deny the fact that you had convinced yourself that the other night didnât happen.
Now you stood outside the venue, clusters of fans surrounding you, similar to how they were previously inside the building.
Except now everyone was just desperate to go home, rest achy feet and go through their now full camera er roll.
Red taillights blurred against the dark, drivers and security overwhelmed yet strangely collected amidst the range of fans.
You hugged your jacket tighter around yourself, until a deep voice, a shadow fell over you, âexcuse meâ
You looked up, not at another fan this time, but one of the men you saw near the stage earlier that night.
Slightly startled you smiled lightly in response before he continued, âI hope Iâm not alarming you, but Jiyong ssi asked if youâd come with meâ
Your mouth went dry confused, eyeing the daisies that subtly littered his uniform, clearly GDâs doing.
âIf youâd be comfortable, we have a car waitingâ the mans polite yet professional exterior made you nod, speechless yet also every fibre of your being on edge.
And before you could second guess yourself, your legs carried you forward, behind the man who wore Jiyongâs brand like it was something sacred.
The sleek black car idled just ahead. The guard opened the door for you, and when you glanced inside, your breath caught.
Jiyong. He sat in the backseat, cap pulled low, but his eyes lifted the instant you appeared.
For a heartbeat, he was unreadable, then the faintest, almost relieved smile curved at his lips.
âCome inâ he said, voice warm but quiet, as though this moment belonged only to the two of you.
You slid inside, the door closing softly behind you. The noise of the crowd melted away, replaced by the low hum of the engine. Suddenly, the space felt impossibly small, the air charged.
âI donât understandâ you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper as your hand clutched at your bag helplessly, trying to keep your composure.
He studied you, the passing streetlights painting him in fleeting strokes of gold and shadow, âWeâre going the same place anywayâ he spoke simply, âThe hotelâ
You blinked, heart stuttering, âThatâs the only reason?â
His smile deepened, though it carried something unspoken beneath it. He leaned back, eyes never leaving yours, the pause before his words thick with meaning.
âNoâ he murmured, softer now. âNot the only reasonâ
The car rolled on through Paris, but the city felt far away. All you could feel was his gaze, steady and deliberate, as if he were daring you to believe this was real.
And for the first time, you wondered if fate hadnât just crossed your path, if maybe, quietly, it had chosen you.
âare you gonna tell me what the other reason is?â you questioned but he just shook his head huffing a laugh, thankful he hadnât let a secret saesang into his car.
You sat there stiffly at first, hands folded in your lap, hyper aware of the fact that Kwon Jiyong was less than an armâs length away from you.
The very same Jiyong youâd watched command a stadium just hours ago. The very same Jiyong whose posters lined your teenage bedroom.
Now he was here, his cologne warm in the air, his voice low as he asked, âDid you enjoy the show?â
You blinked, nearly laughing at the absurdity. Did you enjoy the show? As if you hadnât screamed yourself hoarse, as if you hadnât just lived through the best two hours of your life.
âI mean, you were incredible. All of you. Iâve never-â You stopped yourself, cheeks heating. Calm the fuck down.
He chuckled softly, not unkindly, tilting his head as if amused by your honesty. âThatâs good to hearâ
Jiyong spoke, his gaze lingering a little too long, like he was memorising your expression.
You shifted in your seat, trying not to stare but failing spectacularly. Every few seconds, your eyes darted to him, his profile against the Paris lights, the way his fingers tapped idly on his knee.
And every time, you caught yourself thinking, Heâs real. Heâs actually real and Iâm in his car.
The ride slipped into a comfortable quiet, though your heart didnât settle once. By the time the car rolled up to the hotel, you were almost dizzy with it all.
The driver pulled into the private entrance, and before you could fumble for the handle, Jiyong moved first.
He pushed the door open, stepping out with the kind of ease only he had. Then, shockingly, he turned back, extending his hand to you.
âCome onâ
You froze for a beat too long before sliding your palm into his. His hand was warm, steady, grounding. You half expected the ground to swallow you whole.
As you stepped into the soft glow of the lobby, a surreal hush fell. The staff bowed politely, the marble floors gleaming beneath your shoes.
You stayed close, trying to take everything in, but mostly aware of how near he was.
You tried to play it cool. Tried. But every fiber of you screamed donât trip, donât squeal, donât say something stupid.
Jiyong glanced at you as the elevator doors opened, a spark in his eyes like he could read every thought running through your head, âYouâre quietâ he noted
You swallowed, managing a tiny smile, âIâm trying not to embarrass myselfâ
That earned you a real laugh, low and warm, his shoulders relaxing, âDonât worryâ he murmured, stepping inside the elevator, âkind of like itâ
The doors slid shut, sealing you both inside, yet you stayed near the corner, still trying not to freak out.
The mirrored walls gave you away though, the way your eyes would dart to him as if questioning if he was even real.
Jiyong on the other hand leaned casually against the railing, like he hadnât just gone against one of the numbers one rules of being an idol, not letting random fans into your life.
âyou still nervous?â he asked, voice deep, tired from the long night of performing, except he looked different now to how he looked on stage.
ânoâ you reply small, but the statement sounded more like you were questioning yourself on whether you were in fact nervous or not.
âyou areâ he murmured, eyes catching yours, âitâs cuteâ he smiled almost playfully and you couldâve sworn you died and were in the afterlife.
He smiled, slow and knowing, and you swore your knees weakened, âI donât biteâ he murmured, eyes lingering on you longer than necessary.
You laughed nervously, heat creeping up your neck, âEasy for you to say. I donât usually share elevators withâ You trailed off, gesturing vaguely at him, âwell, youâ
âMeâ he repeated, tilting his head, like he was testing how the word tasted on your tongue, âyou couldâ
The way he said it made your stomach flip.
You shifted your weight, trying to look anywhere but at him, but he leaned just slightly closer, his voice softer now, âAnd you?â he asked, âWhat do you do?â
You blinked, âwhat do i do?â you repeated, unsure of what he meant exactly but also too distracted by the way he was so close to you.
âMmâ His gaze held yours, intent but not heavy, âWhoâs the girl who caught my eye in a hotel lobby and ended up in my car?â
Your breath caught and for a second you forgot how to think, much less answer, âI donât think thereâs much to tellâ you managed, âIâm just me.â
Something flickered in his eyes at that. âJust youâ he echoed, almost to himself, as though he liked the sound of it.
The elevator dinged for a mid-floor. Neither of you moved. No one got on. Jiyong reached out casually and slid his key card, the panel lighting up all the way to PH.
Your heart stuttered. He noticed, he definitely noticed, because the corner of his mouth curved upward, âDonât worry,â he said lightly, âIâm only stealing a little more of your timeâ
You swallowed hard, pulse hammering, âsureâ you voice, as if trying to convince yourself of the fact that you were currently inside your teenage dream.
But the air in the small space was thick now, humming with something unspoken, and when the elevator finally glided open, you stepped out beside him without hesitation, like there was nowhere else you could possibly go.
The hallway to the penthouse was quiet, carpet muffling every step. You followed half a pace behind, nerves buzzing under your skin, until he slid the key card and pushed the door open.
âwhat do you normally do after a concert?â you ask him, half genuinely curious, half unsure of how else to carry on a conversation with him.
Jiyong hummed, âsleepâ he spoke simply, keycard swiping across the door to his suite, but truthfully, as if he wasnât living everyoneâs dream and nightmare all at once.
The suite was impossibly large, floor to ceiling windows spilling Paris across the skyline, low lights glowing against sleek furniture.
âItâsâ you searched for the word, âbeautifulâ you spoke, âbut why am i here?â you question
âIs it?â Jiyong murmured, slipping his jacket off and tossing it onto a chair. His eyes didnât leave you âi trust you not to kill meâ
You turned, startled, and found him watching you, not the view, not the room. You.
Your pulse jumped, âYouâre-â you started, then stopped, glancing down for a mere moment with a nervous laugh, âYouâre really bad at thisâ
Jiyong raised a brow, amused, âat what?â he pushed, stepping just a bit closer to you, the tiredness that would normally envelop his body after a concert non existent at this point.
âPretending youâre not..â you waved a hand toward him helplessly before finishing, âyouâ
That earned you a real laugh, low and warm, and before you could recover from the sound, he closed the space between you. Not touching, just close enough that you felt the heat of him.
âYou think Iâm pretending?â His voice dropped, smooth and intimate, but also hiding the fact that he was loving the effect he had on you.
Your throat went dry, âarenât you?â you pondered, but he simply shrugged lightly, shaking his head,
âNo,â he said simply, his gaze flicking to your mouth before returning to your eyes, âI donât do that with people who interest meâ
The words sank in, your face going hot, your body buzzing with disbelief, and interest together.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold his stare, âYou canât just say things like that,â you spoke barely above a whisper when you realised just how close he was to you.
And the fact you didnât back away.
âWhy not?â he countered softly. He leaned in then, just enough that his breath skimmed your cheek, his voice almost conspiratorial, âItâs true.â
You felt yourself sway slightly toward him, and his hand finally lifted, hovering before settling lightly at your arm. Gentle. Grounding. Asking without words.
The silence between you stretched, heavy and electric, The room felt too quiet, every hum of electricity in the walls drowned out by the pounding in your chest.
You knew you should move, step back, put space between you, but his hand was warm at your forearm, his presence steady and disarming all at once.
Jiyong tilted his head, studying you like he was memorizing the hesitation written across your face, âYou really are shy,â he said softly, not mocking, just observing.
Your laugh came out in a shaky puff of air. âIâm standing in Kwon Jiyongâs penthouse suite. I think Iâm allowed to be a little unsteadyâ
That pulled a smile from him, faint but deliberate, the kind that made your stomach knot. He shifted even closer, his shoulder brushing yours now, a deliberate point of contact.
âI like itâ Jiyong murmured, âdo i make you nervous?â he voiced like it was an easy question to ask.
The words slid under your skin, sparking something you couldnât contain. Your breath caught as his hand left your elbow and traced up, feather-light, until it rested at your jaw.
His thumb brushed your cheekbone, slow and careful, like he was testing how much youâd allow, âyesâ you replied softly.
Your eyes fluttered shut before you could stop yourself, and you felt him pause, just long enough to make you ache with anticipation.
âis that because iâm me? or because im G-Dragon?â he asked, and you found yourself shaking your head incredulously.
âyouâ
âTell me to stopâ he whispered, the low heat in his voice pulling you in deepe rather than pushing you away.
You opened your eyes, heart hammering, and met his gaze head-on. You didnât say stop. Couldnât.
Instead, your voice came out smaller than you meant it to, âWhat if I donât want to?â
Something flickered in his expression, relief, hunger, something more vulnerable underneath.
He leaned in slowly, his nose brushing yours, not quite closing the distance, until you thought you might combust.
But instead of kissing you, he pulled back just a fraction, lips curving, âThen donâtâ he said, thumb stroking your skin once more before slipping away.
The space between you felt suddenly vast, though he was still right there. Your whole body buzzed, the echo of his touch lingering.
Jiyong stepped back half a pace, giving you room, but his eyes never left yours. âIâm not in a rushâ he added quietly, âWe have timeâ
And somehow, that restraint only made the tension coil tighter in your stomach.
You told yourself that this could just be who he was. One of those idols that mess with fans and forget about it the next day.
But the way he looked at you, spoke to you like this was something different compared to it.
You sank onto the edge of the sofa, partly because your knees felt unreliable, partly because you needed a second to breathe.
Your pulse was still running wild, but the weight of his words, we have time, softened the edges of it.
Jiyong crossed the room with unhurried steps, poured two glasses of water from a carafe on the table, and brought one to you, when you hesitated, he pressed it gently into your hands.
âDrinkâ he explained simply, as if he was giving you a foreign object.
You did, the cool water grounding you. Your fingers trembled slightly against the glass, and you prayed he wouldnât notice. Of course, he noticed everything.
âBetter?â
You nodded, lips quirking at his attempt, âA littleâ
He eased into the seat beside you, not too close, but close enough that the space hummed with awareness again.
Jiyongâs arm hooked lazily over the back of the sofa, ironically behind your head, his forearm brushing against your hair.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The city lights spilled in through the window, painting his features in soft gold. It was strange, seeing him like this, not larger than life on a stage, but quiet, thoughtful, entirely real.
He caught your stare, of course he did, and smiled faintly, âYou keep looking at me like Iâm going to disappearâ
You flushed, twisting your fingers together, âIâm just, trying to make sure this is real.â
He turned his head, studying you with an openness that made your chest ache, âItâs realâ he voiced simply.
Something about the way Jiyong said it settled you. The buzz of nerves didnât vanish, but it softened, making space for something else, a fragile, glowing warmth.
âDo you always bring strangers up here?â you teased lightly, testing the air between you now that it wasnât as thick.
His laugh was quiet, a low rumble, âNoâ he said, shaking his head, then, more deliberate, âyouâre not a stranger.â
That pulled you up short. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, because what could you possibly say to that?
You looked down quickly, but he noticed, he always seemed to notice, and reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist where it rested on your knee. Light. Testing.
âStill shy?â he asked softly, almost teasingly, his voice so close to you that your heart tightened within your chest.
âStill trying not to combustâ you admitted before you could stop yourself, earning you a low laugh, and his thumb swept a slow line across your pulse point.
âI like that youâre honestâ he spoke, his gaze never leaving yours, âmost people, they give me what they think I want to hear. You just give me youâ
The way he said it made your stomach tighten, a heat curling low that you tried desperately to ignore.
You shifted, tucking your leg beneath you, which only brought you closer. His hand slipped from your wrist to your knee, warm through the fabric of your jeans, not pushing, just there.
âCareful,â you teased, though your voice betrayed you with its softness. âYouâll give me ideas.â
He smirked, leaning just slightly closer, his words brushing your ear, âMaybe thatâs the point.â
The air thickened instantly, your skin prickling under the nearness of him. You swallowed hard, gripping your glass tighter.
âYouâre veryâŚâ you faltered, cheeks hot.
âForward?â he offered.
You shook your head quickly, ânot exactly. Intentionalâ you voiced, your voice setting something in him.
Something softened in his expression, like youâd said exactly what he wanted to hear. His hand squeezed lightly at your knee, grounding you even as your heart raced.
âI told youâ he murmured, voice low, velvet, âI donât waste my time pretendingâ
You pondered, trying desperately to ignore the fact his hand on your knee wasnât overly distracting, âYouâre very distractingâ you admitted, trying to laugh it off, though your voice came out hushed.
His smirk deepened, deliberate, âGoodâ he muttered quietly, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly.
You blinked, confused at his lack of denial, âGood?â you questioned,
He leaned in, so close the faintest brush of his shoulder touched yours, âMm. Means Iâve got your attention.â
You laughed nervously, but it broke when his fingers slid higher, just a few inches, careful, stopping mid thigh.
He didnât kiss you, not yet, but the heat in his eyes made it clear how badly he wanted to, his breath fanning against your mouth as he spoke.
âIf I start,â he said lowly, âI wonât want to stopâ it was almost like a pre warning, Jiyongâs hand flexing on your thigh.
The words left you trembling, torn between fear and want, and when you whispered, âMaybe I donât want you toâ you felt his restraint snap like a taut string.
He pressed closer, lips just grazing yours, not quite sealing the kiss, but enough to ignite you from the inside out.
His hand slid further along your thigh, possessive without pushing, while his other held your jaw like you might disappear.
Every inch of him radiated heat and intent, and when he finally pulled back, just enough to meet your wide eyes, his smile was wrecked and knowing.
âdonât rush itâ he rasped, brushing his lips against your cheek in something far too intimate to be casual, âI meant it when I said we have timeâ
The promise in his tone made your whole body ache, frozen when he finally sealed the kiss between you, his lips against yours addictive.
Jiyongâs hand on your thigh used it as leverage to pull you towards him, making your leg swing subtly over his until you were straddling him.
He led the kiss, deepening it whilst letting you be able to pull away at any point, although his touch on your jaw didnât suggest that he wanted to stop any time soon.
The slightly muffled noise that left your lips when he adjusted you on his lap surprised him as much as it urged him on, his hand moving from your thigh to your hip.
His touch grounded the both of you, and you were truthfully an able to comprehend the fact that you were kissing your idol, letting alone on his lap.
Jiyong pulled away, his forehead against yours as he spoke, breathing slightly ragged now, âstay, just a while longerâ he spoke more like a pleading, rather than a request.
And you found yourself nodding to his words with a shaky breath as he smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear before his lips were back on yours.
This time it was softer, like a promise to make the moment last, his other hand going to your hips, âsteadyâ he murmured against you, never pulling away fully.
Jiyongâs words confused you but you didnât have time to dwell on it before he was standing up, you in his arms, making you squeal in surprise.
You wrapped yourself around him, to brace yourself but he didnât let your lips leave his for bother couple moments.
And when he pulled away, his hand gently cradled your hair, to bury your face in his shoulder before he was walking off to the bedroom, lips gazing over your jaw in a featherlight motion.
âYouâre tremblingâ he commented and your face heated up, ânot because youâre scared are you?â He teased playfully and before you could comprehend it, you were dropped onto the bed with such care that you werenât used to.
Your eyes didnât meet his until he coaxed you to lie down, his body hovering over yous, âI shouldnât be doing thisâ he muttered although his hand was still on your hip with a bruising grip.
And you felt your heart sink at Jiyongâs words, âare you gonna stopâ you asked quietly, trying not to let your disappointment show through your words.
But he shook his head before you even finished the question, ânot unless you want me toâ he proposed finally, lips hovering near yours once again.
And this time you were the one shaking your head.
That was enough for him to pull your lips back onto his own, careful not to put too much of his weight on top of you, yet also grounding you with the promise of him being there.
In all honesty, he had no clue why he was doing this, it was something that he couldnât explain, something that washed over him.
Maybe it was because you were one of the only people that didnât practically bow at his feet when you met.
Maybe it was the fact he couldnât get over the way you talked, the light accent hurdling into your words, the way your hair fell over your shoulder and you carried yourself in a light different to most others heâd met.
But for now he can pretend that this is just a one moment thing in his life, something hell forget about after his flight back.
And as Jiyong felt your hands steady over his chest, letting his lips trail down to your jaw, he wasnât sure whether he was okay with letting you walk away after this.
âYouâre so prettyâ he muttered, more to himself than anything as he littered kisses down to the curve of your neck.
He felt your moment of hesitation, the way your breathing sputtered as your hands fell to the hem of his shirt and he quickly silenced your thoughts, âitâs okayâ
He assured, letting you pull the shirt off his skin, slowly, not rushing, like he had told you, the dark strands of his hair falling over his face slightly as he looked down at your already flushed expression.
âStop being shy with meâ he teased as you tried not to let your eyes wander, your heart sputtering at his words,
âItâs hard not to when youâre this close- i mean not too close, but you areâ you manage out, but his hands simply lead your own back to his chest, this time bare, uncovered.
âCan i touch you?â He asked, ignoring your words, his eyes glued to your own with his gentle ways.
You nodded, unable to form words again suddenly but he shook his head, âwords, jagiâ
The way the nickname slipped out so out of nowhere yet it felt right falling from his lips somehow, and you found yourself sputtering out a yes.
Jiyong huffed a small laugh, his hands finding home on your waist, one hand tracing small circles a with his thumb, âthere we goâ
And when his lips met yours once more, it was charged now, hands clawing at fabric until you were both down to just your lingerie and his boxers.
âIâll ll take care of you, can I jagi?â He asked you gently, sitting back on his heels, making you nod up at him almost hurriedly,
âYes jiyongâ you murmured quietly and he swore it was better than any other fan he had heard scream his name previously that night.
His lips went to the hollow of your throat then, letting his lips trail further down, slowly, almost teasingly, but more to himself than to you.
Your body arched up into him the more he moved, and it was his favourite thing to see, your pretty voice whispering out curses when his tongue ran over the sensitive parts of your body.
It almost made him forget about the fact he was going back to Korea the next night.
Your hands clawed at each otherâs remaining clothes, the fabric slipping off without ripping surprisingly, the two of you too desperate to think about anything else.
Nothing other than the way your skin felt against his, his length pressing against you in a manner that was so addictive your hips were bucking into his for relief.
And Jiyong wasnât one to deny someone what they want.
He gently coaxed your legs open, making your breath hitch at both the vulnerability and the feeling of his nails digging into your thighs so gently.
When your legs instinctively tried to shut, he kissed the corner of your mouth until you relaxed slightly under him, âdonât overthink, just let it happenâ he reassured.
âI havenât got a condomâ he thought out loud, looking at you as if to silently ask what you wanted to do.
You shook your head, âi donât care, Iâll figure it outâ
And this time when his lips were on yours and his practically leaking cock pressed against your already soaked entrance until you twitched for more, you werenât shy about it.
Your hands went to his hair, in desperate need of somehow bringing him closer to you, although that deemed impossible.
The pretty noises that spilled from your throat and into his, he was sure you were going to be his cause of death.
Jiyong pulled away just enough so that your noses brushed against each other, and he gently pressed himself inside you, the stretch delicious enough to make you whimper.
âThere you go, not shy on me anymore?â He murmured, lips grazing against yours as his one hand held yours down against the mattress, not exactly to pin it but to hold, to ground you.
Your body tensed slightly as he pushed deeper, and you tried to contain whatever filth was brewing up in your mouth.
âRelax, Iâve got youâ he assured you, letting your free hand tug lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a small, almost grunt from the man.
Jiyong bottomed out, his head dropping to your shoulder as he let you adjust, although the feeling of you clenching around him this early on had him biting gently into your skin to control himself somehow.
âJiyongâ you spoke, an almost whimpered voice, your chest against his, a thin layer of sweat and arousal coating between the two of you.
He huffed a small breathy laugh against you before composing himself enough to speak, and press his lips to the spot behind your ear,
âSo you can scream my name in an arena with thousands of other people, but when Iâve got you to myself, youâre down to thisâ
His words were more teasing then degrading, but you couldnât help the way your back arched into him again at his words, breathing ragged.
âShh, shh, stay still, youâre already shaking and i havenât even moved yetâ you felt the curve of his lips against you, grinning in a way that went past politeness.
You whined lightly, âJiyong, i swear to godâ you practically pleaded, begging him to move.
And he listened. He pulled out just enough to slam back in, hard, hips against yours, but he wasnât rough about it.
He just knew what you needed apparently, better than any other man had.
âFuck- youâre so tight around me jagiâ he shakily spoke, but eh was more composed than whatever was happening to your right now.
Your hand was clutching onto his with each thrust he started to pick up, your eyes had fluttered shut when the angle hit just right to the point your legs wrapped around him.
And Jiyong was liking the fact you werenât being shy and modest anymore.
You whined, âright thereâ and he didnât change his movements, letting you milk the moment of his cock pressed so deep inside you, hitting that spot just right.
âYeah, that good baby?â He questioned, more rhetorically, but he shouldnât be talking right now considering he was that close to finishing already just by the feeling of your walls around him.
His lips sealed against yours again, this time messy, and you kissed back with the same, starving passion, your bodied practically becoming one.
Jiyongâs thrusts timed perfectly, as well as the angle of his length that had you seeing stars, moans travelling from your mouth to his.
His hand dug into your hip, keeping you down for him to abuse that spongy spot inside you until your legs trembled around him.
This time when the kiss broke, your lips were on his neck, and jiyong swore heâd never gotten so close to release this quick before.
And apparently, he wasnât the only one considering the way you writhed lightly against him and your moans turned into higher pitched whines.
âYou close baby?â He asked you it you couldnât answer in words, instead nodding into his neck, hand desperately around his shoulder, nails raking down his back so deliciously.
He groaned, low, an almost moan, and his hand on your hip trailed to circle your clit, with enough pressure for it to make your hips buck.
Because no way was jiyong about to let you see him break first.
âYou can cum, jagi, iâm right hereâ he assured you, his thrusts almost deemed as punishing if they werenât so damn good.
and you did, hard, legs clamped around his torso, moans of his name leaving your lips, he never wanted to forget about the way you sounded, milking him dry.
âIâll pull out babyâ he told you, voice stammered slightly as he let you ride out the events of your high, but you whined in protest.
âNo, please- please, itâs okayâ your reassurance along with your not so quiet pleading had his hips stagger for less than a moment, before he dropped his forehead to yours, with a low curse.
âI really think youâre gonna kill meâ he muttered in between kisses as you pressed them to his lips to urge him on, your hands raking down his back again until his hand flushed at the pristine bed sheets.
He finished, inside you, deep enough for you to feel each movement from him, twitching inside of you to the point where you could have sworn you heard Kwon Jiyong whimper against you.
And when he pulled out a moment later, breathing more unsteady then when he was performing back to back songs on stage, the dark blue strands of hair fell against his forehead, damp.
âFuck, youâre amazingâ he whispered, âsuch a pretty girlâ he played another kiss to your lips before sitting back onto his heels, âcmonâ
He ushered gently, letting you prop yourself up on your elbows confused before his hands were around you waist, pulling you to his chest as he rose from the bed.
âClean you up okay? And maybe get you messy all over againâ he spoke against your ear until you lightly tapped his chest, letting him carry you to the bathroom.
Damn the penthouse suite was so much nicer than whatever room you were staying in.
Though what else should you expect from someone who made a company for his cat?
âYou okay?â He asked softly when you didnât speak for a while, still catching your breath and the feeling of your evidence of your night together against your thighs.
âMore than okayâ you assured, dropping on to slightly shaky feet as he stood in front of you in the slightly cramped, yet luxurious shower.
When the water was warm enough for the both of you, but not too warm considering you were both already hot and sweating based on multiple reasons, the events of the night barely registered into your head.
You let his hand cradle the back of your neck in an almost sacred motion, his other hand on your hip as he kissed you once more, both of your lips swollen from how much he couldnât get enough of you.
You let him wash away the evidence of your night together, yet kiss the soft, wet skin like a promise not to forget it.
You let him carry you back to his bed, and hold you against his chest until you fell asleep.
And you let him go home the next night after a plan b pill and a bitter sweet breakfast in bed together because he was a gentleman and didnât want you feeling gross or anything after the night before.
And you apparently also let another piece of him stay inside you for a long time.
You stared at the two pink lines one test, eyes drifting between that and the other one that read pregnant.
Your hands were over your stomach like you didnât know what to do, because you didnât.
Jiyongâs number sat idle in your phone, the two of you texting back and forth every so often, mainly for something more than simple messages.
And now you were torn between the decision of telling him, potentially ruining his career, or maybe even his life, and the weight of carrying this whole thing on your own.
Keep him in the dark, he never had to know.
Except Jiyong always knows.
When your messages became shorter, more distance, they werenât out of disinterest, Jiyong could see that much for a fact.
But there was something about the way you spoke differently to him than before made him ask the burning question âare you okay?â
Your phone buzzed again, Jiyongâs name lighting up the screen like it has so many nights before.
And it was crazy to you that this life became the new normal.
That you just so casually had an almost sex benefits agreement silently made between you and your biggest idol, and the fact that his baby was growing inside of you as we speak.
âYouâve been quiet. Are you okay jagi?â
You bit the inside of your cheek, tears brimming your eyes, out of fear or realisation you werenât sure, but the bathroom floor wasnt doing anything to help your nerves anymore.
You couldnât hide this from him.
How could you hide the child you knew heâd wanted his whole life, away from him?
No matter how unconventional or messy it may be.
His message was simple, gentle, nothing like the little lines he usually sends when he wants you breathless.
He probably thinks youâre losing interest, that youâve moved on. The truth feels too heavy, too life altering to fit in a text bubble.
You type, delete, type again. Finally, your thumbs still.
âI donât know how to say this. I wasnât expecting it. but iâm pregnant. you donât have to be involved, i know it messes things up for you, and im sorry. but you should knowâ
The dots appear almost instantly. Then disappear. Then appear again. You imagine him somewhere in his house in Seoul.
Phone in hand, jaw tight, cats oblivious at the end of the bed, trying to find the right words the same way you just did.
Finally, his reply comes,
âYouâre serious?â
You swallow hard, the tears stinging your eyes as you whisper to yourself, âYeah, Iâm seriousâ Your fingers confirm it on screen.
âyes jiyong. iâm sorry, i know itâs probably not what you wanted to hearâ
Thereâs a longer pause this time. Long enough that you set the phone down, pressing it into the mattress like you can muffle the weight of his silence.
Long enough that you almost regret sending anything at all.
âWhere are you right now?â
Your breath catches. The question is simple, but thereâs an urgency under it, the same way there was the night he pulled you into his car like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You donât know if heâs angry, if heâs panicking, or if, just maybe, heâs trying to close the distance that suddenly feels impossible.
âiâm at home?â
âiâm getting the next flight, be there as soon as i canâ
Jiyongâs words made you still, a horrible feeling crawling up your throat, what was he on about?
Was he coming here? to tell you to get rid of it? to tell you that heâs not ready to be a father or he canât with his lifestyle?
But his further words made you unsure of whether this was worse or not.
âYou donât have to do this alone. Thatâs our baby, you hear me? Oursâ
