Aggy

Hi, I'm Aggy!

[ch41s3]

Hi!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

hi . . . ♡ you can call me Aggy! welcome to my channel!!

i'm here to write about:

Big Bang

Twice

Aespa

Katseye

Requests are open even for other groups

I'll write fluff, smut, lemon, angst (not a big fan tho), etc..

I won't write about: gore, incest, rape, minors sex, and anything disturbing like that

Hope you'll like my works! Love y'all!

[ch41s3]

Rainy day

Fl#1 - ji Pairing: 2008!g-dragon x y/n

Genre: fluff

Warning: none!

Resume: You and him are the leaders of two of the most famous band in Korea, and recently you decided to collab together. After months of working together, your song was ready, and the choreography was being prepared as well. One day, after practicing it, all the other members left, so he decided to accompany you home, but outside was raining.

Author space: Hi guys!! I’m Aggy, and this is my first ff, so lemme know what you think about it. Btw, English its not my first language, so sorry in advance if you find some mistakes. Hope you like it, bye!

———————————————————————————————————

Y/n’s p.o.v. ‘God, today was exhausting’ you thought to yourself as you changed into some comfortable and non-sweaty clothes. You were alone in the changing room, since your band members had already gone home, leaving you just with Jiyong. You and him had become very close thanks to new song you were working on for the past few months. You’ve noticed since the first time you’ve talked with him about this project how a good composer he is, not forgetting his amazing voice and creative mind when it comes to music. Your thoughts were interrupted from a knock on the door. ‘’Hey, y/n, I’ve just done changing. Have you?’’ You pulled your hoodie on, taking your practice bag and your phone before opening the changing room’s door. ‘’Yeah, I’ve just finished’’ you said to his face with a gentle smile ‘’Do you need anything?’’. He looked at you for a moment, smiling back at you nicely ‘’No, no.. just wanted to know if you wanted me to walk you home. You know, it’s getting late..’’ he said, leaning against the door frame. ‘Sweet of him. He never did that’, you thought, finding his behavior unusual. You were friends yeah, and It’s not that he was ever mean or rude with you, but he’s not the sweetest ever too. ‘’Sure, thank you’’ you said, happy to hear that he wanted to spend time with you.

As soon as you both collected your things, you started walking towards the exit, talking about what could make your project even better. While you were explaining to him how you could improve some dance steps, he stopped, looking outside with a slight annoyed gaze. ‘’What’s up?’’ You asked confused before looking at the door yourself, seeing that it was raining heavily. ‘Fuck, I took my umbrella out of my bag this morning’ you bit your inner cheek for being so stupid from not checking the weather before leaving the umbrella at home. You turned around, searching from a reassuring face from him that said ‘Don’t worry, I have one’, but all you received was him pinching his nose bridge, cursing himself probably for making the same mistake as you.

‘’I deduce you don’t have an umbrella, right..?’’ He sighed softly, searching in his backpack one last time out of desperation. “It’s okay, we can call an uber, no?” you said, trying to reassure him (and also yourself). “It’s too late for taxies, they’re all gone at this hour” he told you. You stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered something. “Wait…” you murmured, grabbing lightly onto his sleeve before he could start panicking even more. “My apartment is only like ten minutes away from here.” He raised an eyebrow. “Ten minutes in this?” he asked, pointing outside at the heavy rain hitting the windows violently. You laughed softly. “Okay, maybe fifteen.” Jiyong let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’ll get sick.” “So will you if we stay here forever,” you replied. “Besides, my place is closer than yours, right?” He hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yeah… it is.” “Then we can just wait there until the rain calms down,” you suggested casually, even though your heart was beating faster at the idea of him coming over. He looked at you silently for a few seconds, almost as if he was analyzing your expression.

Then, the corner of his lips lifted into a smirk. “Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “But if I catch a cold, I’m blaming you.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re such a baby.” “And you’re mean,” he shot back immediately. The two of you finally stepped outside, instantly regretting it. “Ah, shit—” Jiyong cursed as cold rain hit his face. You burst into laughter while trying to cover your head with your bag. “Come on!” The streets were almost empty, only illuminated by the soft orange streetlights reflecting on the wet pavement. You and Jiyong walked quickly side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders while trying to avoid puddles. At some point, he suddenly grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you closer to him to avoid a car splashing water near the sidewalk. “Careful,” he muttered. For a second, you forgot about the rain completely. Your cheeks warmed slightly, hoping the darkness was enough to hide it.

By the time you finally reached your apartment building, both of you were completely soaked. “Oh my God…” you laughed breathlessly while searching for your keys. “We look terrible.” Jiyong ran a hand through his wet hair, smiling tiredly. “Speak for yourself. I still look good.” You snorted. “Your ego survived the rain, impressive.” “Obviously.” As soon as you opened the apartment door, warmth immediately welcomed both of you. Jiyong stepped inside carefully, looking around your place with curious eyes. “It’s nice,” he said softly. You smiled shyly while taking off your wet shoes. “It’s small, though.” “It suits you.” The way he said it so naturally made your stomach flutter unexpectedly. Trying to ignore it, you quickly turned away. “I’ll get you a towel before you flood my floor.” “Too late for that,” he laughed quietly.

You quickly walked toward your room while Jiyong stayed awkwardly near the entrance, trying not to drip water everywhere. “Wait here,” you told him. “I think I still have some clothes my brother left last time he visited.” “You have a brother?” he asked curiously from behind you. “Yeah, unfortunately,” you joked, opening one of your drawers. “He keeps forgetting his stuff here.” After searching for a few seconds, you finally pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black oversized hoodie. “These should fit you… more or less.” Jiyong took the clothes from your hands, looking at them with amusement. “Your brother has good taste.” “You literally wear black every single day.” “Exactly,” he replied proudly. You shook your head with a small smile before pointing toward the bathroom. “You can shower first if you want. You’ll probably die if you stay in wet clothes any longer.” He looked genuinely surprised for a second. “Are you sure?” “Jiyong, you’re dripping on my floor.” He laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. Thank you.”

A few minutes later, you heard the shower running. The sound strangely relaxed you. You took the opportunity to change into your own pajamas: an oversized t-shirt and soft shorts. After drying your hair quickly, you walked into the kitchen to prepare something warm. Just as you finished making two mugs of tea, the bathroom door opened. You turned around automatically.. and nearly froze. The clothes fit him perfectly. The hoodie sleeves were slightly too short for his arms, and his damp hair fell naturally over his forehead, making him somehow look even softer than usual. He noticed your stare almost immediately. “What?” he asked, smirking lightly “Nothing,” you answered way too quickly, handing him one of the mugs to avoid eye contact. “Here “Thank you,” he said quietly this time. For a moment, the apartment became comfortably silent except for the rain outside hitting the windows. “Come on,” you murmured after clearing your throat. “Let’s sit before the couch starts feeling abandoned.” “The couch missed me?” “Don’t push it.” Jiyong laughed softly before following you to the living room.

The two of you sat on the couch, not too close but not exactly far apart either. A random movie played quietly on the TV only for background noise while the storm continued outside. You pulled a blanket over your legs, taking a sip from your tea. “This is nice,” Jiyong suddenly said. You glanced at him. “Being trapped because of the rain?” “No,” he replied softly, looking at you instead of the screen. “Being here with you.” Your heart skipped embarrassingly fast. “Oh.” A small smile appeared on his lips at your reaction. “You get shy really easily,” he teased quietly. “And you talk too much,” you mumbled, hiding part of your face behind the mug. His laughter filled the room warmly, mixing perfectly with the sound of the rain outside.

“You know,” Jiyong started after a few moments, lazily leaning back against the couch, “I thought working with you would be intimidating.” You turned to look at him with disbelief. “Me? Intimidating?“Mm.” He nodded seriously. “You’re talented, strict during practice, everyone respects you…” his lips curled slightly, “and honestly, you looked like the type of person who would ignore me if I annoyed you.”You scoffed softly. “Maybe I should’ve.” “Too late now,” he replied immediately. You tried to hide your smile by looking down at your mug. “You’re actually way different from what I expected too.” “Oh?” he hummed, interested. “How so?” You hesitated for a second. “I thought you were colder.” His expression softened slightly at your words. “A lot of people think that,” he admitted quietly. “But you’re not,” you said without even thinking.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The rain outside seemed quieter now, almost distant compared to the tension slowly building between you two. Jiyong looked at you carefully, his gaze softer than you had ever seen before. “You notice small things about people,” he murmured. Your heartbeat sped up again. “Maybe only about certain people,” you replied before realizing what you had just implied. His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh?” You groaned softly, immediately hiding your face with the blanket. “Forget I said anything.” A quiet laugh escaped him. “No, I don’t think I will.” You felt him gently tugging the blanket down just enough for you to look at him again. His face was closer now. Way closer. “You’re cute when you get embarrassed,” he whispered teasingly. “Stop saying things like that,” you muttered weakly, completely unable to look away from him. “Why?” “Because…” you swallowed nervously, “you make me nervous.” The teasing expression on his face disappeared almost instantly. Instead, he smiled softly. “Good,” he said quietly. Your breath caught in your throat.

Before you could even process the situation properly, he slowly lifted his hand toward your face, carefully brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle it almost hurt. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly. You nodded before your brain could form an actual sentence. Jiyong smiled a little at your rushed reaction before finally leaning in. The kiss was warm and slow, almost hesitant at first. But the moment you kissed him back, he relaxed completely. One of his hands moved naturally to your waist while yours instinctively grabbed the front of his hoodie. You could still hear the rain outside. The TV was still playing some random movie neither of you cared about anymore. And somehow, in that moment, everything felt strangely perfect. When he finally pulled away, he stayed close enough for your noses to brush lightly. “Well,” he murmured with a grin, “that was definitely better than practice.” You laughed breathlessly, cheeks burning. “You’re unbelievable.” “And you still like me.” Unfortunately for you, he was absolutely right. You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how warm your face still felt after kissing him. “This is bad, you know that right?” you murmured, although there wasn’t much conviction in your voice anymore. Jiyong tilted his head slightly. “The kiss?” “No,” you laughed softly. “Us.” He looked personally offended. “Wow. That hurts.” “You know what I mean,” you said, lightly pushing his shoulder. “If people found out… YG and our company would probably lose their minds.” “Mm,” he hummed thoughtfully, leaning back into the couch. “The entertainment world does love making everything dramatic.” “They’d probably ban us from even breathing in the same room.” “That sounds difficult considering we literally made a whole song together.”

You snorted quietly. For a moment, both of you imagined the chaos: managers panicking, rumors everywhere, fans analyzing every interaction. Honestly, it sounded exhausting. Jiyong looked at you again, his expression softening. “Do you regret it?” he asked suddenly. Your eyes widened immediately. “What? No.” The answer came out so fast that it made him smile. You sighed quietly before moving a little closer to him under the blanket. “I’m just saying…” you mumbled, resting your head carefully against his shoulder, “maybe the companies don’t need to know.” His arm naturally wrapped around you almost instantly. “Ah,” he whispered dramatically, “a secret relationship already?” “Don’t make it sound weird.” He laughed softly before pressing a small kiss against the top of your head. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “They don’t have to know.” And honestly? With the rain still falling outside, his warmth beside you, and his heartbeat steady under your cheek… you were perfectly okay with keeping this secret a little longer.

[makeitworse]

BABY I’M YOURS

who knew that working as an idol’s stylist meant you’d be concealing an affair and the muse for his upcoming album.

⋆˙⟡ ibelongiiu part one 𓂃 c/w: fem!reader x sub!jiyong. fluff | smut. age gap. power imbalance. slowburn. yearning. sneaking around. (not-so) casual relationship. nsfw content minors dni

since the first time you met, ji-yong held a certain fondness for you. you were a fresh face in his staff, joining at the start of the year through connections with his long-term stylist gee eun.

she’d scouted your talent and personally requested you to work with her team— despite your lack of formal experience in the star-studded world of idols.

and you managed to hold your own while working alongside the stylists who’d been dressing him for decades.

it was such a drastic leap from your former position as a fashion intern; only in your early twenties, and you were getting paid to curate outfits for the king of kpop’s public appearances.

you were well aware of how volatile this industry could be. ji-yong’s december scandal was proof of it. you had tunnel vision on your career: you didn’t need attention or to climb in status. you just wanted to do your job and do it well.

which, ironically, is what caught ji-yong’s eye.

from your first day you radiated an air of confidence. you had something special to land you here and you knew it.

you were easy to talk to: never trying too hard to impress him, never pushing for attention. simple, mundane conversations with you were a comfort.

you never spoke to him like he was g-dragon, either. you laughed at his stupid jokes. you saved work-talk for later when you noticed he was nodding off. you didn’t hesitate to call him out on being a diva, either; snappy during fittings, picky with outfit options.

(which, admittedly, was often.. but he respects someone who doesn’t shy at telling him off.)

he liked hearing you laugh too. it wasn’t like the polished, practiced laughter he was used to hearing from idols and other public figures— the kind that could come with ulterior motives.

yours was real. unpretentious. your smile was infectious. and yeah, there was the fact that he found you gorgeous.

it wasn’t exactly a revelation; who wouldn’t think the same? that’s all it was, just passing admiration.

at least he told himself so.

until one night, you were invited as part of a handful of staff to accompany ji-yong at a formal dinner.

ji-yong gravitated to the seat next to the one you’d already claimed in the car. and during the trip there, there wasn’t a singular second of a silence.

talking to you felt so natural. your humour bounced off each other’s, topics and stories flowed from one to the other. he almost wished the car wouldn’t reach its destination if it meant he could learn everything there is to know about you.

but inevitably it did. he turned to you as he adjusted his blazer, asking in a playful tone if he looked good enough for the cameras.

you beamed that smile at him; hand reaching out to straighten his tie, smoothen the lapel. but then your face drops with a frown.

ji-yong’s breath catches in his throat before he can ask what was wrong— as you reach up and lightly thread your fingers through the front of his hair, fixing a stray strand that had fallen over his forehead.

you tucked it back into place while absentmindedly biting your lip in concentration, completely unfazed by the fact you were touching him so casually, so intimately.

and then you were gone.

the door opened on your side, and you moved on like it was nothing. you’d taken his breath with him. ji-yong sat there for a second too long, the crowd outside hollering for him to step outside.

what the hell just happened?

it’s not like he hasn’t been touched before. he’s got people fussing over him every day— hands all over his body from stylist’s fixing up his clothes and hair, dabbing make-up at his face. it was routine.

but that? that was all you. you didn’t do it because it was part of your job. sure, this was a work-related event, but this car ride had been a conversation purely between you and him. and you’d touched him so softly, without hesitation, like it was second nature to be that close.

and god, he was thinking about it too much.

ji-yong caught himself staring at you from across the sidewalk, watching you laugh at something gee eun said; wondering to himself why you suddenly have his full attention.

from then on, it was excuses in order to be around you— requesting you specifically for fittings, revolving around you during breaks, asking you questions he could easily ask the other stylists.

the rest of the team joke that he has an obvious favourite. and instead of denying it, he laughs it off. no one’s taking it too seriously of course; he’s been in the public eye long enough to learn that dating a girl means putting a spotlight on her.

but it lingers in his mind.

he’s old enough to know better. he should know better. you work under him, and you’re young— what was it, over a decade apart from him?

there’s power dynamics, a scandal waiting to happen, his career to consider. and you of course; whether he was reading too far into your affections. you had a smart head on your shoulders, you wouldn’t cross that line with your boss. he had to stop waiting for that day to come.

you had him slipping back into the mindset of his twenties, convinced his image could win over any woman— which was really a front for how deep he’d fall himself. he’s always been a hopeless romantic. he’s cultivated a career by writing songs about it.

ji-yong thought distance would help.

he told himself it was better this way— extinguish his budding feelings before it turned dangerous. before someone really noticed.

before he acted on them.

at first, you didn’t notice the shift. he’s still himself; still smooth, still teasing, still carrying that effortless charm that people gravitate toward.

it starts small. he no longer snapped his head when he’d hear your voice. he no longer looked for your reaction first when he said a joke. he longer watched your reflection in the mirror, averting his gaze as you glance up, thinking you didn’t catch him.

you caught the way his jaw hardened as you adjusted his collar, and as your hands moved to his torso, his arms stayed rigid as his sides.

he doesn’t make it obvious. but he can tell you picked up on it. where there’d usually be playful teasing and light touches, was just an air of suffocating silence as you fixed up his shirt.

and now you’re looking at him differently. he hadn’t realised how much he missed the way you used to. there’s the faintest uncertainty in your movements, like you’re wondering if you’ve done something wrong. it makes his chest tighten.

you almost asked, why do you look at me like that?

for a week, he’d been dodging eye contact, keeping sentences curt and around you only when necessary. the easy rhythm you’d fallen into was gone, replaced by something unfamiliar that stung.

whatever was happening before, if it was anything, could still be found in his eyes. traces of his affections in the way that he looked at you; which he made an effort to keep to a minimum.

you had no reason to ask, though. he’s your boss. he’s an idol. you’ve no right to expectations for him.

so you swallow down the lump in your throat. the questions burning on your tongue— because what would it matter if he fancied you anyways? it’s not like you’d actually be together. you felt like a schoolgirl.

it’s been a long day, longer than most. he’s exhausted, drained from a packed schedule, and the weight of his own shame hanging over his shoulders.

he’s been irritable all day. snappy with the staff. you barely even glance in his direction anymore. his manager has to pull him to the side to check on him.

then something happens.

a tug at his waist— a sharp snap— and suddenly, his belt is loose, his pants hanging off his hips. the staff near him scramble for a fix; but then you’re there. rushing over, pulling your sleeves up to your elbows.

“i’ve got it,” you murmur. all focus.

you’re close. closer than you’ve been in weeks. your hands are on him without hesitation. the warmth of your touch, the scent of your perfume— it all floods back at once.

ji-yong swallows as you grab the hem of his pants, his jaw tight. he should look away, but he doesn’t. can’t. instead, he’s watching you thread the belt back through the loops; your furrowed brows, your lips softly between your teeth, completely oblivious to what you’re stirring in him.

once you buckle the belt back into place, you check it with a tug, and glance up at ji-yong. your eyes meet.

it was only an instant before you were gone again, but it’s enough. because he realises how much he missed you— in the wedge that he forced between you.

and above all, how wrong it was to treat you like just another member of the staff when you were anything but.

he wanted you. and he was done pretending otherwise.

the day had finally wrapped up, and ji-yong bee-lined to the dressing room, finding you humming to yourself by the clothing racks. he hesitates in the doorway before he steps inside.

“oh,” you glanced up. “did you forget something?”

for a second, he doesn’t answer. because yes, he had forgotten something. the warmth of your voice directed at him without uncertainty. how it felt like to talk to you once.

he scrunches his face in thought before shaking his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“nope, just need a breather.”

he ruffles his hair. he’s fidgety, nervous. it’s not lost on you.

you hum in response, turning your attention back to the clothes as you sift through them.

conversation over. he had no reason to linger. but he asks anyway, “you staying late again?”

you shrug. “gee eun’s asked me to organise a few things before tomorrow. you know how she gets.”

he smirks. “they’ll have to start charging you rent soon.”

that earns him a quiet chuckle. it’s familiar.

you continue talking, reflecting on the busy day, and he isn’t listening to the words. not really.

he’s lost in the sight of you. hair falling around your pretty face, all messy from the long day. your hands; delicate, always warm when you’d fix his collar.

how easy it would be to close the distance, to reach for you in the way he’s wanted to.

ji-yongs fingers twitch at his sides. it’s an effort to keep his feet planted there, to nod along.

“—are you even listening?”

“hrm?”

you scoff, your arms crossing.

“what did i just say?”

you watch his feet shuffle, his hand planting in his hair again. the weight of your gaze on him is heavy.

“ah, i haven’t seen that one before.”

ji-yong points at an outfit hanging on the rack to divert the topic. he steps forward, inspecting it when he knows damn well he’s already seen it. but now he’s moving, closing the space between you, and you don’t budge.

you raise a brow. “we used it for an interview earlier this year.”

“really? has it been tailored since?” he reaches out to touch the fabric, like he could give a damn about it. he barely even looks at it. but you are.

“like it needs that.” you adjust the sleeve, replying absently: “you looked great.”

he huffs a laugh. it’s shy, uncertain. he gets nothing but praise all the time, yet he still doesn’t know how to receive it.

he should probably say something else. but instead, he turns to you, and you glance up at him.

you’re close. you eye him curiously, before it shifts into understanding. he’s giving you that look again. like you’ve got something he wants. and he’s letting you recognise it.

he spots the faintest smudge of make-up on your cheek from working all day. and before he can stop himself, ji-yong reaches up to wipe it with his thumb.

your breath catches. his hand stills, hovering beside your cheek. neither of you move, feeling the air shift. it’s charged with something unspoken, but undeniable.

ji-yong’s heart drums against his chest like it’s about to give out. he swallows, watching your eyes dart all over his face.

you’re searching for reluctance, regret; but he holds your gaze while looking at you like there’s a million more things he would do.

you let go of the clothing and bring your hand to his one at your cheek. you close your fingers around the back of his hand, holding it.

“that’s a bad idea.”

he felt like his fingertips were charged with electricity. his body was buzzing with heat. slowly, gauging your reaction, he moves his palm to your face.

you don’t oppose— instead, you lean into his touch as he cradles your cheek.

“i know.” he mutters.

ji-yong’s thumb softly wipes over your skin, and you sigh. that noise stirs something in him.

”you should probably go.”

your hand trails down his wrist and over his arm. he watches with bated breath as your fingertips drag over his chest, stopping to feather over his throat.

“you might do something you’ll regret.”

you felt his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. breathlessly he says, “i wouldn’t.”

you dare to raise your hand to his face, ghosting your touch near his mouth. ji-yong responds by shifting his thumb to your chin, gently tilting your head for him.

for a beat, you let your breaths mingle as you stare at one another. you’re both asking: are we really doing this?

his gaze flickers to your lips and he sighs. you decide then that yes: we’re really doing this.

uncertainty gone, you lean forward to press your lips on his. they’re soft. you hear him suck in a breath through his nose, before he deepens the kiss by parting your mouth open with his own.

both his hands cradle your face, holding you like you’re precious. you pull him closer by his jacket, his body pressing into yours. you’re leaning into him, even letting little noises slip between the open-mouthed kisses.

it gets him hot. his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, asking for permission; when you hum in response, the warmth of his tongue slides into your mouth.

his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling your body further into his, feeling the curves of your chest press into him.

in turn, you felt his excitement digging into your hip. your head was whirling. this was a fucking celebrity, and you’re turning him on?

for a moment you’re both standing there, trading hot tongue kisses, letting your hands roam wild over each other.

ji-yong steps forward, guiding you to walk with him. he backs you into a nearby table.

you pull away, committing the sight before you to memory: ji-yong’s hair tousled, panting with his cheeks tinged red. his gaze charged with everything he’d do to you.

just as his hands come to your hamstrings to raise you onto the table, a distant voice from outside the door has you scrambling away from each other.

you position yourself back at the racks, with ji-yong pulling out his phone. someone walks past the room, glancing in to shoot you both a smile.

disaster averted.

but it was too close of a call. you shake your head at yourself, resting your palm on your forehead. what were you thinking, doing that with the door open?

you glance at ji-yong, pursing your lips. he gets the idea.

he nods, bowing his head as he turns to leave.

“ji-yong?”

he stops to look at you, and you beam a soft smile at him. an acknowledgment of what you two did: that it was real.

he smiles in kind, before you trade bows and he leaves you to get back to your work.

it’s not going to be the last time anyway.

ji-yong was being unbearable.

not outright, of course. just in the way that only you would pick up on.

he found you when the day started, approaching you in front of the styling team with a sly grin plastered on his face. he walked past you, brushing closer than was necessary— and he sneaked a hand out to pinch your waist.

you jumped, eyes darting up around the room. thankfully everyone’s too busy with their own tasks to take notice. you glanced back at ji-yong as he leaves, and he’s barely containing a giggle. asshole.

as the hours stretched on, he’d dare to steal fleeting touches: placing his palm on your back, brushing his fingers over your arm. ji-yong was too impatient for the day’s work to end. you still had to pick up from where your previous encounter left off.

once there were calls for a lunch break— you had locked eyes from across the room. you caught his lip twitch into a smirk briefly. while the other staff began to disperse, you continued your task of stitching up an accessory, biding for ji-yong to make his way over.

a gentle hand on your shoulder made your head turn, met with ji-yong’s face low at your ear.

“come with me?”

you exhale, turning your attention back to the needle. “what about my lunch?”

“i can arrange something for you after.”

you glance at ji-yong with a brow raised. he returns a boyish grin. his finger reaches up, twirling a stray strand of your hair.

you almost reply dryly again, but your words catch as ji-yong leans in, his breath fanning your lips. he extended his arm out, sliding the accessory from your hand and closing his own around your palm.

you suppress the urge to roll your eyes. you did still work under him, despite the tonsil hockey and all. he was just being so damn needy.

“alright.” you stood from your workbench, letting ji-yong pull your chair out and guide you by the hand. he had to drop it before you left the room together, but not before placing a kiss on your hand.

you followed ji-yong through the hallways. everyone was off on break elsewhere, but your heart was still beating in your throat. you were conjuring up excuses in the event that someone catches you— then ji-yong flashes you a soft smile.

he opens the door to an empty dressing room, offering you his palm to guide you in before him.

you take notice of a table against the wall, just before you hear the click of the door locking behind ji-yong.

now that you were actually here, you felt almost faint. it was so surreal. you worked here, and you were sneaking around. with the boss. a fucking idol.

and he led you here. because he wants you.

ji-yong’s hand finds your hip from behind. goosebumps bloom across your skin as he inhales at your hair behind your ear, breathing in your scent. his head leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple.

his mouth trails down to your neck, hand softly roaming over your tummy, careful to not move further.

his name slips from you breathlessly, and he hums in response.

“we shouldn’t be long.”

you crane your head to him, and his palm comes to rest on your jaw. his gaze is unflinching from your lips.

“then i’ll make the most of it.”

there’s no hesitation this time as you both move to kiss each other. ji-yong gently spins you so you’re facing him, then pulling you in by the waist.

you’re both quick to part each other’s lips, your tongues pressing together as you tasted your shared breath. ji-yong was panting into the kisses, his fingers twitching to move from your back.

you bring your hands to cradle his face, briefly pulling away from the kiss to utter: “touch me.”

and he obeyed: sliding his hands with a newfound confidence till they reached the underside of your thighs, grabbing at the flesh.

your own hands tangled in his bright hair, pressing your hips into him— eliciting a hiss from ji-yong as his dick dug into your heat.

greed was rising in you. he’d been working you up all day, daring to show everyone just how close you two had gotten. you decide you’ll give him just what he’s been provoking.

ji-yong’s mouth breaks from yours in a groan as you slide your hand between your bodies to close your palm around his erection. he was hot in your hand, and a sight to behold: eyes screwed shut and his lips parted with a pant.

your hand inched upwards to rub at him, and his mouth came crashing onto yours again. you gasped as he squeezed your ass, nearly lifting you up as he guided you to walk back.

you get the idea— he wants to continue what he didn’t get to do yesterday.

you find your footing, kissing him fervently till you come in contact with the table’s edge. you hoist yourself up to sit on it, and ji-yong’s between your legs in an instant.

you pull him impossibly closer by his collar, and his groan rumbles in your throat as you roll your hips against him.

ji-yong’s mouth found purchase on your neck, and you hummed when he sucked on the skin.

time was ticking. you fumbled for his waistband, eager to unbuckle his belt, but he stopped you by the wrist.

you could’ve cussed him out— but he shot you a dark-eyed glance, his lip curled at the corner.

your mouth fell open as ji-yong dropped to his knees.

conveniently for him, you’d decided to wear a dress today. he pushed the skirt up your thighs, his lips parting in a pant when he noticed the damp spot in your panties.

he pulled them to the side, and you shuddered when he pressed a kiss to your bare cunt.

you steadied yourself with a hand in his hair as his head bobbed with kitten licks to your clit. he kept a palm on your thigh to keep your legs open, with the fingers of his other hand prodding at your core.

ji-yong ate you out like he was fucking starving. the noise of his own groans as he lapped at you vibrated against your clit. and when he finally slid his fingers in to curl up into you, you saw fucking stars.

it was only a few minutes before you came on his fingers, thighs threatening to clamp around his head. he kept his mouth latched onto you, sucking your clit through your orgasm.

he teased you with a swipe of his tongue over you, freshly sensitive. you swatted his head and he chuckled.

ji-yong was already lifting you off the table and ushering you out of the room just as you were asking to return the favour.

he replied that there wasn’t enough time, he still needed to organise lunch for you.

he let you leave the room first to find a bathroom, and you giggled as you flashed one last look at him: standing there with a (what would’ve been painfully hard) tent in his pants. his head dipped with a shy smile as the door shut.

after that, between you was an arrangement without a name. an affair that hadn’t yet been spoken into existence.

carefully coordinated encounters, stolen moments in the quiet corners of studios, which quickly progressed to meetings in parking lots and nights spent in hotel beds.

you’ve perfected the art of slipping away without raising suspicion, and he’s able to keep a straight face when someone asks where he’s been lately.

the team still believe it’s just a fleeting crush. it’s impossible to suppress his instinct to gravitate towards you, to gaze at you for far too long. it’s just something the stylists laugh at between themselves— they don’t he’d actually cross that line.

but he was far past that point. and he was down bad.

it’s in the way he can’t stop thinking of you when you’re not around. the way he’s memorised your little quirks when you’re working, how you bite your lip in concentration and hum absently.

the way he shifts his schedule around to better align with yours, just for the chance of more encounters in the shadows. the way he spent money on you like it meant nothing; treating you to meals and adorning you with jewellery, as much as you’d refuse.

but worst of all, it was in the music.

late at night, when he’s drafting songs for the album, the pen spills out lyrics that with your name written all over them.

his infatuation, his reluctance; his complete and utter devotion. him practically begging you to want to be with him.

the album was almost dangerously raw. when anyone close to him listens, they’ll start to wonder. because it’s not just a crush. ji-yong’s heart was yours.

truth was, he was falling in love. and he couldn’t tell a soul who you were.

you accompanied ji-yong to a photoshoot with elle magazine. the hours you’d been here have had no end of ji-yong attempting to whisk you away, sneak a kiss or two behind a corner.

you knew how he gets. ji-yong gets too excited for his own good; he couldn’t afford to get a boner when he has to pose up for the camera, or god forbid leak pre-cum into the trousers.

but it’d been a while since his schedule had an opening to spend time alone with you. he was restless today: groping you in the dressing room, stealing pecks on your face. you caught him staring at your chest in front of the other stylists, head dipped and all— and you nearly slapped him until you remembered he’s still g-dragon.

he’d catch your eye an alarming amount when he’d get into position for the pictures, almost as if he’s checking for your approval. it got to the point that you forced yourself to get busy with something else, in case someone starts to wonder why he keeps glancing in your direction.

the day was nearing its end. ji-yong was dressed in the last outfit prepared for him. you were skimming over any creases, straightening up his collar like you’d always do.

you spared him a smile and complimented him under your breath, low enough that the other stylists didn’t pay any mind.

but it only egged ji-yong on. temptation gets the better of him, and he leans forward on his toes like he’s about to kiss you— right there in front of everyone.

you freeze up as his nose nudges yours. it’s enough to have your heart drumming. it takes everything in you to calmly step away, not check to see if anyone saw.

and then someone’s calling his name for the next round of photos. he spares you a wink before he jogs off. you make a mental note to have no mercy the next time you fuck.

tonight was at long last a rare chance for ji-yong to spend the night with you. there’d been a cancellation in his plans, and he didn’t waste another moment in shooting you a message. all of your errands then became futile.

you had a singular foot in the door of his apartment before he launched himself at you. you felt zoa brush against your leg; he’s been telling you how much she’s missed you.

if only you could pet her, since ji-yong’s already practically ripping your clothes off.

you hadn’t forgotten his stunt at the elle photoshoot. you had straddled ji-yong on the couch, riding him till he was a whining mess. you only stopped after your second orgasm, and he was a shell of a man by the end of it. careful what you wish for.

freshly showered, you were both curled up in his sheets, your head resting on his chest. you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his body with each breath. ji-yong was drawing lazy circles on your arm, his eyes glossed over while his mind was in a distant place.

you could spend forever looking at that face without getting bored. there’s a reason he’s as famous as he is. he’s stunning, and he was all yours.

“what’re you thinking?” you murmured.

ji-yong’s quiet for a beat. then, his finger stills against your skin. “how much i hate hiding this.”

your heart skips a beat. there it was.

you shift, tilting your head to look at him. he tries to keep his face composed, but his eyes— warm, searching— give him away.

“you know why we have to.” you say carefully.

“i know,” he sighs, tightening his hold around you. “but that doesn’t mean i like it.”

his words settle between you two for a moment.

you knew this was coming. you’d been prolonging the day, dodging his attempts to ask what you both were, if you’d told anyone about him.

the thought’s lingered in your mind too of course. he’d charmed you; you adored him. maybe in another setting, where you were both on equal footing, it’d feel okay. but outside of these walls, you were just a stylist for g-dragon. and anything more than that being made public would blow up in your faces.

you could tell how much secrecy weighed him down. he wanted to show you off, to brag about you. be proud about his girl.

and you’re not sure you could give him that.

but tonight, you don’t say that.

instead, you bury your head in the crook of his neck and softly kiss his jaw.

“i’m here.” you whisper.

for now it’s enough.

but the way ji-yong presses a kiss to your hair, exhaling deeply: you can tell that this conversation wasn’t over. not tonight anyways.

a/n: thank you for reading! i’ve had so much inspiration for gd, i decided to just compile all my ideas into a series. this part serves as the calm before the shitstorm. i already have the next parts planned out, but i’m taking my time with writing to ensure a cohesive story. i hope to see you there in the next one! ♡

taglist ⟢ @breakmeoff @emmiesoverthemoon @lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @ferrarifinnick @jennierubyjem @namsgyu

@aokism @kandixcx @famouskoalastudent @ctrldivinev @myn4mgyu @aizshallnotbefound @astralruem @siideros @myst3rionn @aanaritt @lowkeyylaura @emmyf1 @comitzsiren @puddingknows @btwimmel @hrtswon @ufoev3 @drwholuvr @bambambwi @bloody-kissez @amoondragon @bfiechso @renjunniehavenn @1tsnotgab1 @cannotdriveinastraightline @numeroun01 @nirvanainmypants @zcmda @siriusly-rem-writes @jajabro @leagueofvillainsenthusiest @enhypj @eclips-moon @multiple-fandom @kjydrgnnnn @gdgirl21 @inhogf @namelesswoah fucking hell there’s alot of you