may i bite your neck?
pairing: kwon ji-yong x male reader
a/c: omgg sorryy this took too long, homework is killing me. anyways, enjoy! ^3^
It all started innocently enough, with little playful bites on your arms. Soft nibbles that barely even registered, more affectionate than anything else. Then it moved to your cheeks, your hands, anywhere Ji-yong could reach.
Ji-yong always made sure to be gentle, his bites were never hard enough to hurt, never more than tiny, teasing nibbles that left no real marks, at most, a faint, quickly fading flush. And you didn't mind. In fact, you found it oddly endearing.
Sometimes you would just be sitting on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, and without warning, Ji-yong would put down his own device just to lean over and gently bite your cheek, like it was his version of asking for attention. Other times, when you were cradling his face in your hands, running your fingers lovingly from his temple down to his nose, tracing the curve of his lips, he would catch one of your fingers between his teeth, giving it a soft nip that made you smile every single time.
But Ji-yong hadn't really understood the meaning of obsession until he started leaving those same gentle bites along your neck. He discovered it for the first time when his lips wandered to your neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin, and without even thinking, he sank his teeth in gently, right where your pulse fluttered wildly against your throat.
You gasped, more surprised than hurt, and he immediately pulled back, checking your face for any hint of discomfort. But you didn't push him away. You just blinked up at him, cheeks a little flushed, lips parted slightly. Something inside Ji-yong snapped.
From that moment on, it became a habit he couldn't resist. He loved the way you reacted to his mouth on your neck. He absolutely loved it. Loved the way your breath would hitch, loved the way you would squirm just a little when his teeth grazed too close to a sensitive spot.
The next morning, seeing the faint trail of hickeys blooming across your skin like little love notes he had left behind, he felt something warm and possessive coil in his chest.
And when he caught you trying (and failing) to cover the marks with make-up before heading out, Ji-yong just chuckled under his breath, sauntered over, and pressed one last kiss right on top of the highest one, like he was stamping his signature.
Today was Daesung's concert in Seoul, and of course you had to be there, he wasn't just one of your best friends; he was practically family, even before you and Ji-yong had started dating.
You were sitting next to your boyfriend in the back of his sleek black Rolls-Royce, gliding through the city streets towards the Olympic Hall, where the concert would take place. The show wasn't starting for a few hours yet, but Ji-yong had insisted on arriving early. He was set to perform as a surprise guest alongside Taeyang, and, true to his perfectionist nature, he wanted a little extra time to rehearse and get everything just right.
Your hand was resting comfortably in his, fingers loosely tangled together. You were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, feeling the gentle weight of Ji-yong's thumb brushing against your knuckles. He sat beside you, head turned toward the window, quietly singing under his breath, and it didn't take you long to recognize the melody.
You smiled to yourself, squeezing his hand once before setting your phone aside. Ji-yong glanced at you, still softly murmuring the lyrics.
"You're singing that one tonight?" you asked, curiosity laced in your tone.
The second you spoke, Ji-yong's whole face lit up. He nodded, smiling.
"Yep," he said. "We weren't sure at first, but... it felt right, you know? It's been years since we sang that for the last time. "
He was still holding your hand, and now he gave it a tighter squeeze. You could feel the slight tremble of excitement and nerves under his skin. There was a subtle edge to his movements, like his body remembered how to command a stage, but his heart hadn’t quite caught up. Maybe it was because he hadn’t stood in front of a crowd like this for years—not truly—until his comeback reignited that old flame.
"It's special," he said, quieter now. "I didn't realize how much I missed it until we started practicing." He paused, chewing at his lower lip for a second before flashing you a small, almost shy smile. "Having Dae, Taeyang, and me on the same stage again... it feels like home."
You leaned your chin to rest on his head, as you hugged him. You could tell how much the group meant to him, not just the music, but the bond, the history they all carried.
"I'm proud of you, Ji. You absolutely deserve this."
Ji-yong's throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes softening. He let go of your hand just long enough to tug you closer by the wrist, until your bodies touched. He buried his nose against your scarf for a moment, breathing you in like you were his anchor.
"Thank you, sweetheart." He said, and you pressed a little kiss on his hair as a response.
A few quiet minutes passed in comfortable silence between the two of you. You were gently caressing Ji-yong's arm, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of his sleeve. Both your eyes were closed, heads tilted slightly toward each other like flowers leaning toward warmth.
Being with him always had this effect on you, grounding, calming. You didn't need words, or constant action. Sometimes just sitting together, breathing the same air, was more than enough. Ji-yong felt it too. He always had a hard time slowing down, but with you, he didn't feel the need to fill every silence. You had that rare kind of peace between you that didn't demand anything but presence.
You were starting to drift, not fully asleep, but sinking into that soft space in between, when you felt the faint tug of Ji-yong's fingers against the scarf you were wearing. At first, you didn't move, just noticed how his hand was gently toying with the warm wool, slipping between the knitted threads as if feeling for something underneath.
You opened one eye, voice drowsy and touched with a half-smile. "What are you doing?"
Ji-yong didn't answer right away. He glanced up at you from beneath his lashes, as if caught mid-thought. "Fixing your scarf," he said smoothly, like it was the most innocent thing in the world.
His fingers, however, betrayed him. They lingered not on the scarf itself, but just beneath it, brushing the spot where your jaw met your neck, the exact place you knew still carried one of his bolder marks from the night before.
Your other eye opened now, narrowing slightly with amusement. "Fixing it," you repeated,
Ji-yong looked like he was suppressing a grin. He tapped his fingers against your scarf again, then gave a solemn nod, like he'd just come to some very important conclusion.
"...Actually," he said, "I don't think you should wear it."
You pulled back just slightly, giving him a raised brow and a look. "Ji-yong."
"What?" he said innocently, though the smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away completely. "It's a shame to cover something so pretty."
Your jaw dropped just a bit. "Unbelievable."
"Not unbelievable," he said, nudging your side playfully. "Undeniable."
You shook your head slowly, trying —and failing— to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
"I'm honest," he went on, his voice softer now as he leaned in again, brushing his nose against the edge of your scarf. "It's not my fault you wear my work so well."
You narrowed your eyes at him, but the mock-scolding look didn't quite land, not when your fingers were still laced gently with his. "You mean your crime scene?"
Ji-yong's laughter rumbled low and muffled into the wool, the sound vibrating warmly against your skin. "Come on. You liked it."
You rolled your eyes, but you didn't deny it, because there was nothing to deny. Of course you liked it. You always did. You liked the way his hands treated you like something rare, not fragile, but treasured. You liked the way his mouth marked you, not out of ownership, but devotion. You definitely liked his neck kisses.
"It's winter," you muttered with false indignation, tightening the scarf dramatically around your throat, though there was still a teasing glint in your eyes. "I had to find a way to not show up looking like I got mauled by a wolf."
Ji-yong scoffed immediately, lips twitching up into a knowing smirk. "Please. It was barely three."
You turned to give him a dry look, one brow raised.
"...Okay, four," he conceded quickly, raising both hands as if surrendering to the truth. Then, after a beat, he added with a grin, "But the one behind your ear doesn't count. It's tiny."
You rolled your eyes, the corners of your mouth already betraying you with a smile you couldn’t quite hide.
"You're so lucky I love you," you muttered, shifting in your seat just enough that your shoulder bumped into his.
Ji-yong leaned into you without hesitation, like it was instinct.
"I know," he said, voice low and sincere, his lips grazing your cheek in a fleeting kiss before he let his head rest against your shoulder. "I really, really am."
Outside the window, the city rolled by in muted blues and grays, dusk settling over Seoul like a soft blanket. As the car curved down the final stretch, the unmistakable glow of Olympic Hall finally came into view, glowing golden and pale against the chill of the evening.
You were in the VIP section of the concert, tucked behind the sea of flashing lights and raised hands. Ji-yong couldn't be with you, his surprise appearance was a secret carefully guarded, and it would've spoiled the magic if the crowd had caught sight of him before his cue. But you didn't mind. You were just happy to be there. The music, the lights, the pulse of the crowd, it all swept you up in the kind of energy that made your skin tingle. You knew every lyric by heart. Chae Rin was by your side, dancing with you, her arm around your shoulder during your favorite choruses. The two of you sang with everything you had.
The air inside was thick, warm. The kind of heat that clings to your skin and makes your clothes feel heavier by the minute. Your scarf, once a cozy addition you had tossed on without much thought, was now clinging uncomfortably around your neck.
You pressed your wrist to your temple, brushing away the small bead of sweat that had gathered there. The collective body heat of the crowd, the stage lights, the excitement, it all felt amplified in that moment.
Chae Rin, next to you, was still moving to the beat, singing along with the music playing over the speakers. You tried to focus on that too, but your thoughts drifted.
The marks weren't that bad... right?
Your fingers instinctively grazed the soft skin just below your jaw. You told yourself it would be fine. The VIP section was dim. No one was really looking. It wasn't like someone would spot you from the crowd and point it out. The heat was becoming unbearable.
After another minute or so of indecision, and after making absolutely sure no one was paying too much attention, you slipped your fingers up to the back of your neck and loosened the scarf. It came off slowly, the fabric still warm from your body, and you folded it onto your lap with a quiet sigh of relief.
The cooler air brushed against your neck the second the scarf came off, and you felt your whole body relax. A soft breath slipped from your lips, the tension melting off your shoulders like it had been waiting for that single moment.
Next to you, Chae Rin gave you a look, one brow arched high, the corners of her mouth twitching up in amusement. "I thought you had that scarf stuck on with glue."
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "Yeah, yeah. The scarf was a bad idea. This place is practically burning."
She leaned in. "Don't worry," she said, her voice light. "No one's gonna notice them."
Your smile faltered, heat crawling up your cheeks, and not from the temperature this time. You turned to glance at her, a little sheepish, your voice dipping into something softer. "It was that obvious?"
Chae Rin didn't answer right away. Instead, she slipped an arm around your shoulder and gave you a gentle squeeze, her smirk deepening.
"I’ve known Ji-yong since he had crooked teeth and used to steal his mom’s sunglasses for dance practice,” Chae Rin said, her voice laced with fondness and a smirk. “Trust me, I could spot something he touched from a mile away, even in the dark, with sunglasses on, too.”
You groaned, half-laughing, half-dying inside, leaning into her shoulder for a second. "I was trying to be subtle."
She snorted. "Sweetheart, you're dating the least subtle man on earth. Good luck with that."
You were just about to reply when a sudden roar from the crowd swallowed your voice. Every conversation around you vanished into the surge of screams and cheers.
Both of you snapped your heads toward the stage, instinctively leaning forward. The lights dimmed, then flared, and there they were, Ji-yong and Taeyang, stepping onto the stage.
Your breath caught for a moment. Ji-yong had that magnetism, his whole presence was electric. And then you saw it, the glint of dozens of pins decorating his jacket, catching the light as he moved.
They were a blur of colors and shapes, some gold, some silver, maybe one with a skull or a heart, you couldn't really tell. Not from your seat, not with the crowd jumping and the lights flickering and Ji-yong practically glowing up there like a constellation.
You squinted, leaning forward in your chair without even thinking.
Chae Rin caught it immediately. "What are you staring at?"
You didn't even look away. "His jacket," you murmured, lips parting slightly. "He's wearing... pins. A lot of them."
She leaned in to peek, lips curling. "Fashion, babe. You know how he is."
You laughed under your breath, shaking your head as you sat back again.
After the show, the energy backstage was euphoric.
People were buzzing through the narrow halls with glitter still clinging to their faces, shouting names, hugging, laughing too loud.
You weaved through it all, heading toward Daesung's dressing room, waving at familiar faces, returning high-fives, offering grins to stylists and dancers still vibrating from the adrenaline. Someone had already cranked music through a speaker somewhere, and someone else shoved a cold bottle of soju into your hand before you even stepped fully into the room.
You had just taken a sip when you felt two arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, warm and tight, pulling you into a sudden embrace. A familiar weight against your back.
"Ji," you breathed, smiling as you leaned into him without hesitation. "You scared me."
He tightened his grip, pulling you even closer, burying his nose in the crook of your neck with a dramatic sigh that sent a warm flutter straight through your chest.
"I thought I was going to die back there," he mumbled, muffled slightly against your skin. "Couldn't see you. Couldn't even sneak a glance. It was torture."
You laughed, reaching up to pat one of his hands, still loosely clasped around your collarbones. "You performed thirty minutes ago. I think you'll survive."
"But you looked so far away," he went on, lifting his head slightly, voice low and full of theatrical anguish. "And the lights were in my eyes. I didn't even get to see your face properly."
"You really are a drama king," you teased, twisting slightly in his hold until you could see his face. His hair was damp from sweat, sticking slightly to his forehead.
"And proud," he said, unapologetic, one brow raised. "Missed you every damn second."
You rolled your eyes affectionately but leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek anyway.
That's when you noticed it — finally getting a proper look at his jacket. There were pins scattered all over it, each one strange or stylish or completely random. But one in particular caught your eye.
It was right over his heart.
A simple pin. Black background, purple letters.
Your lips parted in disbelief, half-laughing. "Are you serious?"
You reached up and tapped the pin. "This. On stage? In front of thousands of people?"
He followed your hand, looked at it, then smiled with a slow, unapologetic kind of pride.
"Oh, that one?" he said casually. "Yeah. It reminded me of you." He looked at the pin and smiled, returning his eyes to you.
Then his gaze landed on your scarf... or rather, the absence of it. You had ditched it earlier in the crowd, and now you wore just a white turtleneck under your coat. No longer hiding the faint marks beneath your jaw.
His smile changed again, from smug to soft. Like he was genuinely pleased.
You raised a brow. "You mean me not suffocating in a scarf?"
"I mean me getting to admire my art," he said.
You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm lightly with the back of your hand. "Stop."
Ji-yong just grinned, clearly unbothered. "You knew what you were signing up for." He said, and grabbed your soju bottle to drink.
The day after the concert, you were back to work. Your schedule was packed—filming scenes for the music video of your next album. That meant Ji-yong was stuck at home alone, something he wasn’t exactly thrilled about.
He’d been sending you messages all morning, clearly missing you. Most of them were reels of cats doing dumb things, overly romantic quotes, and screenshots of clothes he thought you’d look good in.
You were sitting on a chair with a stylist working through your hair when your phone buzzed twice. Two new notifications from Ji-yong.
You sighed, a little suspicious, but curiosity got the best of you. With one hand still resting on your lap and the other carefully holding your phone so the stylist wouldn’t scold you, you tapped open Twitter.
The next trending topic was a clear set of backstage photos, taken by someone who clearly had no chill. In them, your scarf was gone and your turtleneck didn’t do a very good job hiding what Ji-yong had left on your neck.
Two of them. Both unmistakably visible under the venue’s harsh lighting.
Your thumb scrolled slowly to the next post, it wasn’t like you were scared, people had been speculating about you and Ji-yong for a while now. Fans had pieced together outfits, background shadows in mirror selfies, a matching cat plushie, even the same chipped nail polish once. Nothing ever confirmed. Nothing ever denied either.
Still, there was something different about seeing it all laid out, trending. Like you’d taken a quiet, soft part of your life and accidentally tossed it into a stadium of screaming fans with 4K zoom lenses and too much free time.
The post you landed on wasn’t even dramatic. Just a close-up of Ji-yong’s jacket. Your eyes immediately found it, that pin.
Your eyes lingered on the photo for a few more seconds.
You sighed through a laugh, locking your phone against your chest for a second like it might calm your racing thoughts. It didn’t.
Without another moment of hesitation, you unlocked your phone again and opened your chat with Ji-yong.
You didn’t reply right away. Instead, you just sat there, staring at the chat with your phone resting loosely in your hand, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying—and failing—not to smile like an idiot.
You sighed, dragging a hand down your face, half-exasperated, half-grinning. Somewhere in the background, someone called for another take of the MV scene, but you stayed seated a second longer.
He was completely, utterly in love. Loud about it in all the ways that mattered—never hiding, never hesitating. And subtle? He had never met the word. But you didn’t need him to be.
