#taeyang

[eru-vande]

I'M UNWELL

My man wants ot4 reunion more than all the VIPs combined

[welcometoyunosworld]

𝘠𝘰𝘶 & 𝘮𝘦 • 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕𝘚

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 !

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲; HIIII I'M FINALLY BACK BAES!! I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR SO LONG💋

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEE

𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁/𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: How BigBang members would react to their S/O on stage with them as also being part of YG entertainment.

𝙶-𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗

• He loves to wink at you, and everyone would see it from the big screen and your flustered face as well

• You'd have a little dance whenever switching places on stage, silly or lovely, and you know it wasn't just for the audience but for you both to show just how happy he was to have you with him on stage in front of thousands of people

• Little add ons before the next song, you know when it all goes silent and lights fade into darkness before the next song plays and he'd say "𝗛𝗲𝘆 (𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲) 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆?" And you'd smirk and reply with an energetic "𝗟𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗴𝗼, 𝗚𝗗!" as the crowd would go wild with these, and of course for every concert it's all different, you both agreed it'd be boring to hear the same thing again and again

• Hand placement. This man would hold your waist, your hand, or if he gets bold enough, your hip. He'd usually hold you by the waist but you'd just smile when you'd feel how he gathered the courage to hold you by the hip, and you'd be sure to get back at him later

𝚃.𝙾.𝙿

• Now we all know how he just loves to dance, right? Well he loves to randomly hold your hand and lead you to the center and do a silly little dance with you as he would sing, with you giving him an admirable smile

• He's not used to physical touch at all and you respect that, especially when he mentioned before he doesn't like showing skin that much, but there were still times he would wrap an arm around your waist and press his forehead against yours as the song fades and so did the lights, leaving the crowd going crazy

• He'd tease you sometimes, saying "(𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲) 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘂𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲?" knowing damn well you can't really beat him in rapping but hey, who said you couldn't beat him with your amazing vocals?

• Cute little interactions, giving you a rose mid song, a little dance when it's both of your turns to sing, and he would have a cloth with him, whenever he'd see you sweating from exhaustion he'd be quick to gently wipe the sweat off your face without ruining your make up

• Cute poses together before the song ends, but he loves to end a song with carrying you in his arms while you wrap your arms loosely around his neck

𝙳-𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙴

• What were you expecting? Of course he'd be so happy to have you with him on stage, he won't leave you alone for too long because he doesn't want you to feel lonely or leave you all alone by yourself

• It's always so fun with him, he loves to show you just how happy he is to be with you, because you're both idols, it gets busy for the both of you that you could barely text or call, and he would cherish the time he has with you on stage, and every interaction you both would have even if it was just short amount of time, he'd make it special for you

• Loves to hold your hand anytime, anywhere, he'd reach his hand out for you to hold, and if you don't hold his hand quick enough he'd stomp his way over to you and hold your hand anyway

𝚂𝙾𝙻 / 𝚃𝙰𝙴-𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙶

• With him it's always fun because even if you can't dance that much like him, he'd teach you ON THE SPOT, girl... He's not taking no for an answer

• "I can't dance like that, Hyung!" You'd laugh as you tried to mimic his dance moves, and while still singing he beckons you to come closer and he would show you each step and you have no choice (at least you tried)

• Definitely loves to ruffle your hair when he gets the chance and laughs whenever your hair would be a mess, you'd find a way to get back at him somehow

• Silly dances with him, as long as you're both having fun and enjoying yourselves too, he loves seeing you so happy and proud, it brings warmth to his heart and soul

• Randomly taps your shoulder and when you turn around he'd have his hand ready for a short rock, paper, scissors challenge with you and you'd happily accept the challenge mid song

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[fckyeahgdragon]

250331 CL IG Update

[choitttop]

it’s officially still life 3rd anniversary </3

[tabibabib]

guys gd just trying not to get himself blocked by top again

[junnipop]

i’m going crazy

[burlesquerade]

i wondered why i’ve always hyperfixated on disbanded groups (mcr, old panic! at the disco, now bigbang) rather than ones that are currently active and i think it’s because when they’re active i have the same amount of anxiety as an animal being hunted for sport while trying to keep up with all the new content. like i can watch old content at my own pace but if i blink i’ll miss the new stuff and it stresses me out. anyone else!

[emmysbigbang]

LATE FOR A DATE ~ BB TEXTS

❁ summary: your boyfriend is late for a date

❁ starring: gdragon, t.o.p, daesung, taeyang

❁ warnings: angst

❁ a/n: my first time writing angst🥲

🎧requests are open🎧

🚨ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE🚨

@missgdragon - please don’t copy or rewrite my works on any other app, this is my original work

[nfly5]

(it's live) SF9 — LOVE RACE ❤️‍🔥

[zhaozi]

𝐍𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧

[eru-vande]

My will to live 😭

[havonte]

(〃ω〃)

[welcometoyunosworld]

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦?

𝘕𝘰, 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝙂-𝘿��𝘼𝙂𝙊𝙉 / 𝙆𝙒𝙊𝙉 𝙅𝙄-𝙔𝙊𝙉𝙂

𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰 / 𝘗𝘭𝘰𝘵 : 𝘌𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵��𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘖𝘖𝘊 (𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳), 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭/𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺. 𝘚𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘖𝘖𝘊 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ♡

It really just started off with teasing each other, but to be fair it was the fact that both of you went too far. Hurting each other's feelings with the harshest words that you were secretly surprised you find yourself saying things like that to someone who'd spit the same venom at you. Kwon Ji-yong, you met him when you were both trainees, just when him and his group were watching your practices, he'd always make side comments about it which entirely annoyed you, and so you would do the same to him.

That's how it all started.

Walking down the hallways used to be something peaceful to you, walking out of the busy building. Not anymore, you'd always stay alert now, Ji-yong started pulling pranks on you too, he'd pop out of nowhere and scare the living hell out of you. It pissed you off to no end, especially when you can't really get back at him that time.

Slamming your fist on the table of your desk, you can't help but sigh deeply at the horrible memories back then, why did he have to start making your experience as a trainee so shit? The songs he wrote, dissing you were all over social media and your songs too, you've been pushing yourself past your limits just to make another one, just one more, you can do it, can't you?

Maybe you believed his words back then, what's been pushing you down too. To make it worse, he did say it at one of his concerts, that you wish won't pop out of your feed anymore. If there's one thing that you always avoid is humiliation, and that's exactly what he's doing. Of course he'd say something like that in front of thousands of people because he just hates you, and you hate him, did you?

Not just that, your day's already bad, it's only getting worse when his fans would obviously be on his side, claiming that you wouldn't have been famous if it wasn't for Ji-yong.

Was it true?

You became a rising star when you released the album of dissing Ji-yong like he did to you, the rest of your songs never noticed that much, a wave of envy washed over you at the realization, it was true... If it wasn't for Ji-yong you wouldn't have gotten the spotlight in your life. And now here you are, overworking yourself because you definitely got another idea for this new song.

Ji-yong, listening to your old songs that never got much attention, was intrigued with it, no, with all of them. Trying to decipher each meaning of the song, to know you better, to know your weak spots and maybe he'd make another diss track of you. Yet.. he can't help but be in a trance when he becomes focused on the softness of your voice, the way you sang, so angelic, alluring. A small smile on his face as he was finally acknowledging your talent.

You were getting better, he knew it.

And for once, he doesn't plan to bring you down this time.

Months or even years, he never got you out of his mind, he'd never admit it aloud, but seeing and hearing the way you were just so creative with your words in your diss tracks, it did stung him a bit, maybe he got a taste of his own medicine that time, both of your prides were too high to admit anything to each other. But a part of him wanted to know you better, better than anyone else.

You were just so.. amazing.

Amazing?..

Ji-yong shook his head and let out a sigh, what was he thinking just now? He hated you, why would he compliment you like that? He finally stopped the song and left his studio for the meantime.

Weeks have passed,

What were you up to? All of those songs you wrote, you couldn't even start the progress of turning into the perfect diss track. You thought it would be perfect because Ji-yong suddenly stopped dissing you, and you thought it was a perfect time to strike back but.. a part of you stopped you from even starting the progress.

You swore you were so pumped up to finally make this and now here you are, stuck in your studio with papers scattered on your desk, startled by the sound of your phone ringing right next to your head got you falling off your chair, but picking up anyway, it must be your manager again.

"𝘼𝙣𝙣𝙮𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜."

Your eyes widened when you recognized that voice, and you were about to start asking when he beat you to it.

"𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙚, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠? 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚, 𝙡𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙛𝙚."

You felt skeptical with his sudden invitation of a conversation, about what? What does he really want? Is he finally done making diss tracks of you and deciding to face you?

"𝘐.. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥.. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

"𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩."

Your voice came out tired and quieter than usual, but it was enough for Ji-yong to hear. After giving you the time, you had to be ready, he said he'll pick you up at 8pm and it's already 6pm. You have an hour..

Getting ready took you long enough, you didn't put much make up on, just light makeup is enough. You saw his car nearing the front of your house and you took a deep breath before the car pulled to a stop in front of you and the window rolls down, revealing Ji-yong at the driver's seat.

"Come on now, I'm not opening the door for you."

He said, a hint of mockery and emptiness in his tone, led you to rolling your eyes and getting in anyway. The ride to the cafe was quiet.. awkward. You felt a bit uncomfortable, you swore you could feel his eyes glancing at you sometimes..

"Alright, what do you want."

You muttered when you both sat down, it was a secluded spot so you were good to talk, for now. Ji-yong lets out a sigh before he leans back. "Not even a 'How have you been?' You really wound me, Jagiya." He said feigning hurt as he held back an arrogant smirk. You masked your annoyance with a chuckle and a forced smile. "How rude of me, how have you been?" You mustered up the courage to just say it, you were already getting pissed off because of his attitude.

"Been good, just wanted to ask you.. if we can just have this chance to talk about.. us."

Ji-yong replied, keeping his eyes on you. His words made your heart beat faster, what the hell does he mean by us? You guys weren't a thing, you were enemies, rivals, that's it.. Right?

"Do you really hate me? Or are you just keeping this up to reach the hall of fame?"

That made you answer immediately, locking your gaze with his.

"No. I.. That's not it-"

"Then what is it?"

You paused as he was also quick to reply to you, your heart beats faster, your mind going blank and words stuck in your throat.. Did you really hate him? Or did you believe you hate him?

"I don't know."

You muttered, avoiding his gaze and thinking.. yet no more words could come out of your mouth. You could only look back at Ji-yong with uncertainty and an uncomfortable silence..

"Take it easy, will you?"

He sighed and held your hand, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, offering the comfort he could. "Be careful.. what if someone could recognize us?" You warned, slightly pulling your hand away only for him to hold your hand tighter. "No one will, just trust me." He said, his voice becoming softer and his hold on your hand gentler. His gaze softened when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Focus on me, just.. listen, okay?" He said softly, quietly, now holding your hand with both of his hands.

Ever since that day, both of your perspectives have changed towards each other. You never bother to text anyone but your close friends but you were beyond shocked when Ji-yong started texting you.. even asking how your day was.

𝘑𝘪-𝘠𝘰𝘯𝘨 😾

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺?

𝘠𝘰𝘶;

𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?

𝘑𝘪-𝘠𝘰𝘯𝘨 😾

𝘕𝘰, 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰.

Your heart ached a bit as he mentioned he was feeling lonely and you had to admit.. you were lonely too. Your house would always be so quiet, just the sound of your TV coming from the living room every afternoon or evening.

𝘠𝘰𝘶:

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯.

Ji-yong didn't reply after he read the text, you couldn't tell if he was just pulling a prank on you. You shook your head and sighed, the knock on your door got you jumping off your couch.. That fast? You opened the door and saw Ji-yong standing there, looking at you with the same wide eyes...

"...What are you waiting for? Get in-"

You said making him scurry inside and glance around, "I.. wasn't expecting you to let me come over. Thank you." he muttered as you led him to the couch. "Hey it's nothing, i was lonely too." You replied quietly, you nearly jumped when he sat next to you, very close. "Hey.. you've been really touchy since you talked to me." You stated firmly and he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into an embrace, catching you off guard.

"I don't know what this feeling is making me want to hold you like this and just admire you, but i want to know more.. until i can understand it, and understand you." He said against your shoulder, his hand caressing your back. He gently pulls back and cups your cheeks, his gaze locked on yours as he mutters;

"I don't know this feeling but it's something that is definitely stronger than hatred."

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚; 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 💋

[loveesiren]

𝒮𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒

Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon) x Reader

a/n: see the full request here! I changed it a little, hope you don't mind! I wrote this while kind of tipsy so it's not my favorite, sorry if the proofreading was shit/if there's any mistakes! I hope you enjoy regardless! <3

synopsis: After their fight, Y/n is surprised to hear that her best friend still needs her so desperately.

warnings: angst, language, panic attack, fluff

wc: 3.7k+

Spending time with your best friend has always been your favorite thing in the world. Jiyong was your safe space, your person—the one you could sit in comfortable silence with or talk to for hours on end without ever running out of things to say. But lately, that joy had been overshadowed by a growing concern gnawing at your chest.

BIGBANG’s tour was just around the corner, and their new album was about to drop. It was supposed to be an exciting time, and it was—you were beyond thrilled for them, for him. You had always been his biggest supporter, ready to help in any way you could. But as you sat in the dimly lit practice room, watching Jiyong push himself to his absolute limit, that excitement soured into unease.

His voice was raw from overuse, cracked and strained in a way that made you wince every time he spoke. He practiced his choreography until he was drenched in sweat, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Some nights, he worked himself to the point of collapse, and you were the one left to pick up the pieces—carrying his limp, exhausted body to bed, draping a blanket over his shaking form, whispering for him to rest even though you knew he wouldn’t listen.

Tonight was no different. The music blasted through the studio speakers, and Jiyong was lost in the rhythm, his body moving on autopilot despite the evident exhaustion written all over him. You watched as his steps faltered, his balance wavering. Then, just like that, his legs buckled, and he went crashing down.

“Jiyong!” You rushed to his side, your heart hammering as you kneeled beside him. His skin was clammy, his breathing ragged as he tried to push himself up. You grabbed the water bottle you’d brought for him and shoved it into his trembling hands.

“Drink,” you urged, your voice softer now, laced with worry. He took a few sips, barely able to keep the bottle steady. “Ji, you’re worrying me,” you admitted, eyes searching his for any sign that he’d finally listen, that he’d see what he was doing to himself.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Just have to make sure I’m ready for tour.”

You shook your head. “Ji, you’re overworking yourself. You’ve got everything perfected, okay? Give yourself time to rest.”

He exhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet despite your hand reaching out to steady him. “You don’t get it, Y/n,” he said, brushing past you, already making his way back to the center of the room.

You stood as well, crossing your arms as you watched him stubbornly reset the track. “I get that you’re tired, Ji,” you said gently, trying again. “You’re just hurting yourself at this point—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped, cutting you off as the first beats of the song echoed through the studio.

Your chest tightened. “I’m just worried… I mean, you fainted and now you just want to keep going like nothing happened?”

Jiyong clenched his jaw, his fists balling at his sides. He turned to face you, eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, desperation?

“Look, Y/n,” he said, his voice cold and sharp, each word like a blade slicing through your chest. “You’re a bartender, alright? You don’t have to be that skilled at anything.”

The air in the room shifted instantly. You felt the words like a physical blow, your breath catching in your throat.

Jiyong must have seen the way your face fell because for a split second, his expression flickered with something softer—regret, maybe? But then it was gone, replaced by a steely determination as he turned back to his practice.

“If I’m not perfect, then I’m done. Alright?” He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “If you can’t handle it, then fuck off.”

Silence.

You scoffed, a bitter chuckle escaping your lips even as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Wow,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Fuck you, Jiyong.”

You turned on your heel, grabbing your bag with shaking hands as you stormed out of the studio. You half-expected him to call after you, to chase after you and take it back. But he didn’t.

The only sound that followed you was the relentless pounding of the bass as he started the song over again.

The moment you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you, but it did nothing to dull the sting of his words. Your vision blurred as tears spilled freely down your cheeks. You barely registered getting into your car, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

You had always known Jiyong could be stubborn, obsessive even. But this? This was something else. This was him drowning, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull him back to the surface.

And worst of all, he didn’t even want you to.

You barely made it into your apartment before collapsing onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows as sobs wracked your body. You cried until there was nothing left, until exhaustion took over, pulling you into a restless sleep.

-

How is he? You texted Seunghyun, your fingers hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

A few minutes passed before your phone buzzed with his response.

Being a total prick.

You sighed, pressing your forehead into your palm. It had been three days since you last spoke to Jiyong. Three days since he spat those words at you, since you walked out of that practice studio, feeling like the ground had been ripped from beneath you. Three days of silence.

And now, with BIGBANG’s first show of the tour just four days away, all you could do was check in through the others. You had been messaging Seunghyun and Daesung, hoping—maybe even praying—that Jiyong would come to his senses, that he’d realize how badly he had hurt you. But instead, he was still working himself into the ground, still burning himself out, and in return, treating everyone around him like shit.

You bit your lip, debating whether to text him. Your fingers hovered over his contact, but your stomach twisted at the memory of his voice.

"You’re a bartender, alright? You don’t have to be that skilled at anything."

That one line alone still stung like hell.

Jiyong had always been intense when it came to his career, but never—not once—had he spoken to you like that. You had been his best friend for years, his shoulder to lean on when things got too heavy. And yet, the moment you expressed concern, he shoved you away like you were nothing.

Was that really how he saw you? Just some nobody?

You blinked back the fresh sting of tears. No. You refused to let yourself dwell on it anymore. Instead, you did what you always did when life became too much—you threw yourself into work.

Extra shifts, late nights, anything to keep your mind occupied. And it worked… for the most part. But when Saturday rolled around, that familiar ache settled in your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You had never missed one of Jiyong’s home shows. Not once. From his first-ever performance to the biggest sold-out stadiums, you were always there, watching from the V.I.P section, cheering him on. But this time? This time, you weren’t even sure if he wanted you there.

So, you made the decision. You picked up an extra shift at the bar. Saturday nights were always hectic, and if nothing else, at least the tips would be good.

Still, as you got ready for work, your heart ached. It felt wrong not being there.

You glanced at your phone. Zero messages from Jiyong. Nothing. He wasn’t even going to check in. Not even a half-assed apology. Your fingers tightened around your phone, debating one last time if you should reach out.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath before quickly typing out a message.

“I love you, Ji. Good luck at your show tonight.”

Short. Simple. To the point.

You sent it before you could overthink it, shoving your phone into your bag and focusing on finishing your makeup.

-

Meanwhile…

Jiyong sat in the dressing room, his body slumped against the couch. His vision swam as he stared at his phone, your message illuminating the screen. His hands trembled as he gripped the device tighter, reading and rereading your words.

"I love you, Ji."

God, his chest ached.

His head was pounding, his skin slick with sweat despite the AC blasting in the room. He was exhausted—more exhausted than he had ever been in his life. His entire body ached, his muscles screaming in protest with every movement. He had barely eaten in days, barely slept. And now, the crushing weight of knowing you weren’t here—knowing that he had done this, that he had driven you away—was suffocating him.

She should be here, he thought bitterly.

You were always there. Always in the crowd, always waiting for him backstage with a knowing smile and a bottle of water, telling him how proud you were. No matter what, you were there.

But not tonight.

And it was his fault.

“Jiyong, are you okay?”

He barely registered his stylist’s voice until he felt the cool press of her hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” she muttered, concern evident in her tone.

“M’fine…” he mumbled, swatting her hand away weakly.

She frowned but didn’t argue, instead focusing on finishing his hair, even though the strands were already damp from the sweat clinging to his skin. No amount of styling product would keep it in place—not with the way his body was overheating.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to push through the exhaustion. One hour until showtime. Just one more hour.

But even as he tried to rest, the shivering wouldn’t stop.

“Jiyong!”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of Seunghyun and Taeyang’s voices.

“What?!” he snapped, his patience paper-thin.

The two men exchanged a glance before Taeyang took a cautious step forward. “Dude… you don’t look so good.”

Jiyong scoffed, turning onto his side to face the couch. “Fuck off, I’m fine…” His body trembled violently, contradicting his words. “Just leave me alone.”

Seunghyun frowned. “You’re sweating like hell, and you’re shaking, Ji. You seriously think you can get through a full show like this?”

Jiyong gritted his teeth, forcing himself to sit up. “I said I’m fine,” he ground out, even though the room spun around him.

The others weren’t convinced. They had seen Jiyong push himself too far before, but this? This was different. He looked pale—too pale. And the way his shoulders trembled, the way his breaths came out shallow and labored, sent a deep sense of unease through them all.

“We need to tell the manager,” Seunghyun finally said. “If he collapses on stage, it’s gonna be bad.”

Jiyong let out a bitter laugh. “I won’t collapse.”

“Bullshit,” Taeyang muttered. “You can barely sit up.”

The room fell into tense silence before Daesung finally spoke up. “I’m gonna call Y/n.”

Jiyong’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “No,” he croaked, but it was weak, barely a whisper.

“She can help,” Daesung insisted, already pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, good idea,” the others agreed.

Jiyong clenched his jaw, his fists tightening in his lap. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this—to see him so weak, so broken.

But deep down, past all the pride, past all the self-inflicted suffering…

He just wanted you.

Because no matter how badly he fucked up, no matter how much he pushed you away…

You were the one person who could always put him back together.

The moment you stepped away from the bar, you broke into a sprint toward the bathroom, your heart hammering against your ribs. Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket, each vibration sending a fresh wave of anxiety through you. Hands trembling, you yanked it out, eyes widening at the flood of missed calls.

Daesung. Seunghyun. Taeyang.

Something was wrong.

You barely had time to inhale before hitting Daesung’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“Y/n, Jiyong needs you.” His voice was tight, urgent.

Your stomach clenched. “What’s going on? I’m at work.”

“I think it’s a panic attack or something. I don’t know—he won’t let any of us help him. Y/n, please, just come.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching. “I don’t… I don’t think he wants me there, Daesung. We had a fight. He—he said some things…”

“He’s shutting down, Y/n. Our manager is thinking of canceling the show.” His voice cracked, desperation seeping through the line. “You’re his best friend. If anyone can get through to him, it’s you.”

Your fingers dug into the bathroom counter. The things Jiyong had said to you still echoed in your head, sharp and unforgiving. But was that really him talking? Or was it exhaustion twisting his words, pushing him past reason?

He was your person. Your best friend. And right now, he needed you.

“I’m on my way.” You hung up, moving quickly to gather your things, but before you could slip out, your boss caught sight of you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? It’s packed out there—we need you!”

“I’m sorry, sir. Family emergency,” you stammered, throwing your apron onto the counter.

“If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”

You met his glare, then—without a second thought—flipped him off and stormed through the crowded kitchen to the back door, heart hammering as you reached your car. You tossed your bag onto the passenger seat and peeled out of the parking lot, heading straight for the stadium. The city lights blurred past you, neon signs flickering against the darkening sky.

Your phone rang again. It was Daesung. “Hey, I’m almost there. Where do I go?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’re on the list,” Daesung said. “Just head backstage.”

You barely parked before jumping out of the car, navigating through the maze of security and flashing lights. The walls of the venue were lined with photos of legendary musicians, their eyes seeming to watch you as you ran past. Your pulse thrummed in your ears.

Then you heard Daesung call your name. “Y/n!” Daesung waved you over, his relief evident.

You didn’t waste a second. Following him down the hall, you turned a sharp corner and stepped into the dressing room. The air inside was thick with tension.

Jiyong sat hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees, his face pale and drawn. A paramedic stood beside him, pressing an ice pack to his head, murmuring something you couldn’t hear.

“Ji…” Your voice came out softer than you intended, your heart twisting at the sight of him. “What happened?”

His head lifted at the sound of your voice. His dark eyes met yours, wide and glassy.

Then, as if gravity had yanked him forward, he surged up from the couch and threw himself into your arms. His entire body trembled against you, his grip so tight it nearly stole your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking.

You barely had time to steady yourself before he buried his face in your shoulder. His weight pressed into you, as if you were the only thing holding him up.

“Ji…” you whispered, your hands sliding up his back, fingers threading into his hair. “I’ve got you.”

His breath came in shuddering gasps. “I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have said those things. I should have listened to you—I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I—” His voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I’m just so fucking sorry.”

The others watched silently as he clung to you, their faces a mix of relief and quiet concern.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles into his back. “I forgive you.”

His shoulders shook as he let out a quiet sob, the dam finally breaking. The weight of exhaustion, pressure, and regret poured out of him all at once.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” you asked over his shoulder, still holding him.

Daesung nodded, ushering the others out. The paramedic handed you an ice pack and a bottle of water, giving you a small nod before exiting.

Jiyong let you guide him back to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. He wiped at his tear-streaked face, sniffling as you handed him the water. You pressed the ice pack gently to the back of his neck.

“Ji, tell me what happened.”

He took a slow sip, his voice hoarse. “I fucked up, Y/n.” He shook his head. “You were right. I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I—” He exhaled sharply. “I’m exhausted. And then you weren’t here, and I just… I don’t know. I lost it.”

You hesitated. “I didn’t think you wanted me here after what you said to me.”

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, guilt swimming in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it. Not for a second. I was out of my head, Y/n. I’ve been beating myself up over it for days, but I was too ashamed to call.”

Your heart softened. You reached for him, pulling him close and pressing a light kiss to his temple. “I know, Ji.” You stroked his hair gently. “I just worry about you.” A quiet pause. “I love you.”

His breath hitched. “Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, his voice small. His big, innocent eyes searched yours, raw and vulnerable.

You let out a soft laugh, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Of course I can. Just don’t ever say some dumb shit like that again.”

A weak smile tugged at his lips. “Cross my heart.”

“Do you feel any better? Do you need to cancel the show?”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand. “You fix everything. You always do. You’re magic like that.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against them.

Shivers ran down your spine.

“Here.” You tugged him down gently. “Lay back. You have forty-five minutes until the show. Rest as much as you can.”

With a deep breath, he let himself relax against the couch, his fingers still loosely curled around yours. You ran a comforting hand through his hair, cooling him down with the ice pack.

-

“How’s he doing?” Taeyang and Seunghyun appeared in the doorway of the dressing room, their faces laced with concern but softened by the sight of Jiyong sitting upright.

“I’m fine,” Jiyong muttered, his voice still a little hoarse. He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling slowly before flashing them a sheepish smile. “Sorry for being such a prick…”

Taeyang let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “We’re just glad you’re okay, man.”

Seunghyun smirked, glancing between the two of you. “Y/n, I think we need to keep you around more often. Seems like you’re the only one who can get through to him.”

You grinned. “Well, I just lost my job, so I’m free whenever!”

“What?” Jiyong snapped his head toward you so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. His smile faded instantly, replaced by guilt and concern.

You waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Ji. My boss was a fucking dick anyway. I was gonna quit eventually.”

But Jiyong wasn’t convinced. He looked down, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt as his jaw clenched. You could see the thoughts racing through his mind—this was his fault. Another thing to add to the weight he carried.

“Hey.” You softened, reaching out and tilting his chin up with your fingers, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “You’re more important, yeah?”

His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly before he muttered, “M’sorry…” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

Your heart clenched. Without thinking, without hesitation, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

He froze for half a second, as if his brain was struggling to process what was happening. But then, slowly, he melted into you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he deepened the kiss.

It was hesitant at first—uncertain, full of unspoken words—but then something shifted. His fingers tightened against your skin, his lips moving with more urgency, more need. Like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both jolt apart.

“Uh… show time in five,” Seunghyun said, eyes wide with amusement before he and Taeyang practically ran out of the room, leaving you and Jiyong in breathless silence.

As you pulled back just slightly, your noses brushed, his breath warm against your lips. His dark eyes were searching yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“W-what was that for?” he stammered, voice cracking slightly.

You bit your lip, hoping you hadn’t just overstepped everything. “Good luck,” you whispered, offering him a small smile.

Jiyong blinked at you, stunned. Then, to your surprise, his lips curled into a slow, boyish grin before he cupped your face and kissed you again. This time, it wasn’t hesitant—it was filled with silent promises, unspoken confessions, and years of built-up longing neither of you had dared to acknowledge until now.

You smiled against his lips, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Now go!” you laughed, gently shoving him toward the door. “You don’t wanna miss your first show.”

Jiyong stumbled back slightly, his grin never faltering. As he reached the doorway, he hesitated, his fingers lingering on the frame as he turned to look at you.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” he asked, almost shyly.

Your expression softened. “I’ll always be here, Ji.”

Something in his eyes shifted, like he was silently thanking whatever higher power had brought you into his life. Then, with a final, wide smile, he spun on his heel and took off down the hall, his energy renewed.

From backstage, you watched him take the stage, his presence electrifying the entire stadium. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but all you could focus on was him.

And as he stood under the blinding lights, microphone in hand, he turned his head ever so slightly—just enough to catch a glimpse of you in the shadows.

A private smile ghosted across his lips.

Your stomach flipped.

This was only the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

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