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#day6 x you
kbandtrash · 3 months
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Okay lol let’s get some fluffy day6 thoughts going because for the 25th valentine’s day in a row I am single :D quarter of a century strong let’s go
Going in age reverse order because I love park sungjin too much to put him first. Best for last baby
Dowoon turns into Clifford the big red dog when you present him with your valentine’s confession treat of choice. Blushing incoherent mess like there are words coming out of his mouth but he’s so happy they’re unintelligible. He asks “this is really for me?” (there is no one else around) and all you hear after that is his excited giggles and that Busan satoori bobbing up and down, and you’re pretty sure he’s telling you he’s liked you for a long time and he can’t believe this is real life, but then out of nowhere he has your gift in one hand and your hand in the other, barely meeting your eyes, and he’s asking you in the sincerest deepest shiest voice possible if that means this is day one
Wonpil takes a minute to form his response but while he does it he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, hiding his smile behind his hands, finding it hard to even look at you because you just look so dang cute. He finally breaks his silence to tell you exactly that with a grin so wide his cheeks are hurting and he’s afraid his face will freeze like that. He asks if he can hug you and it’s impossible to tell him no and then he holds you so tight you can hardly breathe but he’s just so excited to find out that his crush isn’t one sided that he can’t hold back his affection
Younghyun is floored. He doesn’t even realize he’s coming off as if he doesn’t like you and doesn’t know how to say it—he’s genuinely just surprised because how could he, a master of love songs, not have seen this coming? He meets your eyes, his mouth still hanging open as you awkwardly let your arms drop from offering him your gift, and as he sees you become flustered, he realizes that you think he’s rejecting you. So he stops you by grabbing your hands and asks if you mean it, this isn’t a prank? And the way his smile lights up his entire countenance makes up for his awkward initial reaction
Park Sungjin this silly man. He thinks you’re being friendly. Because he’s just a guy like how could he be the object of your affections? Even when you explain to him that no, you mean it, you like him, you would like to date him, even, he has to sit down for a moment and just say “oh wow!” because he’s not quite used to being Perceived like that. He likes going through life and making connections with people and more than once he’s thought he might like to experience life by your side, and now that the idea of holding your hand could become a reality, well, it’s just a little strange to him. He needs a little more time to think, but it’s not because he’s not sure his answer won’t be yes. He knows it’s yes already, and from the way he looks at you when he tells you this, you know it is too
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enha-hype · 1 year
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♪ song series ♪
hi! this is the first instalment in a series of oneshots i will be writing based on/inspired by a certain song. i recommend listening to the song once (even if you've already heard it) before you read it <3
#1 first time (song | song with lyrics)
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pairing : choi san x gender neutral reader, ex bf!jung wooyoung x reader
genre : songfic, angst, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers
warnings : none
w.c. : 1.1k
disclaimer : this is purely a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only!
masterlist
→ #2
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Jung Wooyoung had been your first love. You two had dated for only about five months before things turned sour, but the impact those few months had on you was long-lasting. Of course, you had been in love with him long before you actually got together. And it didn't help that you were the only one who seemed to find it so hard to move on while he appeared perfectly happy.
It happened back when you were both in high school, so naturally you were both a bit immature and made mistakes. But the difference was that at the end of the day, you were always willing to learn from them and do better, because you loved him and really wanted it to work. He, on the other hand, never cared enough to try, and it made you feel like you weren't worth the effort.
It didn't seem to faze him at all when you finally ended things, which left you wondering if he ever even loved you in the first place. Because if he cared even half as much as you did, it shouldn't have been so easy for him to walk away, right? Then you would think back to the start of your relationship - the good times you had, the sweet things he did for you - and you would start questioning where it went wrong. Surely, he didn't just wake up one day and fall out of love? Something must have triggered it. You had been so sure you were destined to be together; you fit like two puzzle pieces. How exactly did you mess up? Then you would have to remind yourself that the onus wasn't just on you; it takes two to make any relationship work. You would remind yourself of all the things that had been wrong with the relationship, that you were better off without him. But love tends to blind you to those faults, doesn't it? And when a jarring alarm plunged you back into reality, it hurt all over again. But you couldn't help it, he had been your dream for so long that you had forgotten how to let go.
* * *
Choi San is your best friend. You shared a class on the first day of college where he made some snide comment about the racist professor, and you found it so funny that the sip of water you had just taken came spewing out of your nose. Needless to say, you two had been inseparable since then. Almost a whole year into your friendship, he confessed he had developed feelings for you. He knew that you didn't feel the same, and assured you he didn't expect anything of you. He just wanted to be honest about what he felt. You braced yourself for the end of your friendship - but surprisingly, it persevered. And so things went back to normal. Well, almost - you stopped talking to him about your lingering feelings for Wooyoung.
* * *
You don't know when exactly those feelings faded.
Graduation is in a few months and you can hardly believe it. You're at the park near your university where you've spent countless afternoons. A dozen more afternoons to go and you won't be able to do this anymore. You look over at San lying on the grass next to you, his eyes closed, his mouth turned upwards in a content smile. The sun on his cheeks. The soft breeze ruffling his hair. You find yourself smiling, too.
You don't know when these new feelings started making themselves known, either. Or what set them off, for that matter.
Maybe it was that time you called him in the middle of the night when the power was out. You hadn't expected him to answer even if he was somehow awake, because you had just had an argument that day and hadn't talked since. You didn't argue often but when you did, you both needed a bit of space for a day or two to sulk, before eventually talking it out and making up. So it hadn't even been a whole day since the fight, and if it weren't for the dark, and the thunderstorm roaring outside, and the nightmare you had just woken up crying from, you wouldn't even have called him but you did. Because he was the only person that came to mind. And he answered, like he always did. And that was the first time he sang to you. His voice felt like being kissed on the forehead as you drifted off to sleep.
Or maybe the time you showed him your plushie collection and he got so excited you couldn't handle how cute he was.
Or the time you got so worried when he missed class one day and he wouldn't answer any of your calls or texts and it turned out it was because he had to take a wounded kitten to the vet.
Or the time you cooked him his favourite meal for his birthday and he wouldn't stop boasting about it to everyone.
“What are you staring at?” the sound of his voice pulls you back to the present, and you realise your eyes have been glued to his face for who knows how long.
He arches an eyebrow at you, his soft smile stretching out into a teasing grin, and you could swear you feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies that you thought had long died, back in highschool.
“Nothing,”
He shakes his head, resuming his sun bath. You resume admiring his features.
This wasn't pity or gratitude, you were sure. You didn't know what this was yet but you knew it wasn't that. And you knew that whatever this was, it felt as warm and golden as the sunlight on your faces.
You lay down next to him, scooting a little closer than you usually would. If he notices this, he doesn't say anything. You try to think of the last time you thought about Wooyoung and find that surprisingly, you can't remember. And nor does it bother you. He is no longer the face that frequents your dreams, or the name that makes your heart do summersaults.
Your fingers softly graze San's. He doesn't respond at first, and you think he's fallen asleep. Then they twitch, just a little - hesitant, confused. Your fingertips caress the side of his hand every so lightly, and you link your little finger with his. There's a brief pause. Then he takes your hand in his, and you give it a tight squeeze. He squeezes back. All this, while the rest of your bodies lay motionless and your hearts race like the wings of a hummingbird. All this, while your eyes are closed and your giddy smiles light up your faces like the sun.
A passerby might not have noticed this little interaction. Even if they did, they wouldn't think much of it - just two friends fiddling around, or maybe a couple enjoying their date. But only the two of you would know the gravity of this moment. Only the two of you feel the silent shift in your relationship, of new dreams taking shape. A small step in the eyes of everyone else, a giant leap for the both of you.
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negrowhat · 1 year
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Spotify Wrapped BL Couples Edition
Rules: Put your top 100 songs on shuffle and assign the first ten random songs you get to a specific BL couple, doesn’t have to make complete sense to anyone but you. This is harder than it sounds, trust me.
Credit to @theflagscene
Clearly this was meant for the end of the year but I've never seen it before today and I wasn't tagged but I want to do it lol. I'm just going to put my favorite playlist on shuffle.
I Don't Know by Seventeen
Alan and Wen from Moonlight Chicken
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Time of Our Life by DAY6
Ritsu and Masumi from The End of the World with You
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Thinkin Bout You by Frank Ocean
Tan and Bun from Manner of Death
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Round & Round by NCT U
Li Gong and Ze Shou from Plus & Minus
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Special by GOT7
Tinn and Gun from My School President
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Guard You by Young K
Shen Wei and Yunlan from Guardian
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Eighteen by KEY
Pat and Pran from Bad Buddy
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Dangerously in Love by Destiny's Child
Kinn and Porsche from KinnPorsche the Series
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Come Over Tonight by WONHO
Da Un and Si Won from BLUEMING
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Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell
Pluem and Kevin from Ghost Host Ghost House
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xhfics · 17 days
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honestly i had a hard time choosing one but i think i’m gonna go w 18+seungmin (IM SORRY i wanna request other members too but i can’t stop thinking about him in every scenario i’m just so whipped for this man😞)
and i’m NOT saying it has to be a day6 concert but yk🫣🫣 if u wanted some ideas i think they suit him(me) the most
luv u bee 😽
-🍓
Your boyfriend is a MyDay, and so are you. So when Day6 had another concert and the both of you had nothing planned on that evening, you knew you had to go!
It was the first time you and Seungmin had a concert date, apart from you going to his band's concerts, and you were overly excited for it.
The two of you are at the back of the venue, accompanied by Hyeongjun and Jiseok. Seungmin's happily waving his arms, both are sporting a light band; version 1 and 2. He gave version 3 to you.
The whole crowd is singing along with the familiar lyrics of the songs and you're having the time of your life.
When the first few tunes of Shoot Me are heard, Seungmin takes your hand in his and starts to sing along loudly. You know he likes the song a lot, and his band has been covering it a few times
Seungmin raises his arms, taking one of yours with him, and he squeezes your hand carefully in excitement. You both jump along with the song, like there's no tomorrow. He looks at you when the ending of the song nears and you chuckle at him.
He's helped you memorize the fanchant and his eyes light up when the two of you simultaneously yell out the names of the members on the beat.
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lexa-mcu · 2 years
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candles, lanterns and fairy lights
#flufftober2022
@flufftober
#day6
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Before she got home she already texted Bucky that she hadn’t had a good day and that she didn’t want to eat out and he was ok with that.
When she got home the first thing she saw was all the lights out except for some in the living room. She walked by the kitchen counter that had a few candles on it and their flower vase had a new bouquet of flowers.
“Bucky?” she called out “In here!” she heard from the living room. She saw a fort made up and was confused. She kneeled on the ground and saw Bucky in the fort. it had fairy lights hanging up and basically all their pillows and blankets.
She laughed and said “what is this for?” He smiled at her and said “You texted me you had a bad day and so i thought this might make you feel better. We can watch your favorite movie and eat popcorn.”
She smiled and leaned in to kiss him and said “i’ll be right back let me get on my pajamas.”
When she came back he was sitting in the fort with a bowl of freshly made popcorn in his lap. She pushed a blanket to the side and crawled in. She sat next to him and cuddled against him.
She turned on Mean Girls and he didn’t care what she watched he just wanted her to be happy. About 40 minutes into the movie he looked down and saw her asleep on his chest. He smiled and turned off the tv and moved down so his head was on the pillow. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep where the fairy lights twinkling.
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nyuudoupee · 7 months
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the new txt album is amazing as always, but the only thing i could really dock it for is where DILT is on the album. it kinda throws off the pacing/theming??? Put it right after happily ever after and you fix it easy. but those songs are still really good so i'm not upset that they're on the album at all
outside of that the genre hopping is excellent, more rock txt is always needed all the time i will never get sick of it... skipping stones kinda sounds like a musical sequence in a play LOL. i did not expect a deon custom future bass type deepcut on happily ever after, TXT doesn't really do much edm but when they do it gets super atmospheric and more organic than usual which makes it really cool (think of CROWN + PUMA)!!!!!!! good work boys!!!!!!!! come back here soobin I miss you
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Tati's Flufftober Six - Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (+ platonic Thor)
Summary: You build a pillow fort for you and Steve - but someone is interrupting
Word Count: 900
Warnings: Thor is a fan of Steve's ass and isn't afraid to tell him
A/N: This is my fifth entry for @flufftober and I have no clue what this is...
This was meant to be a huge romantic gesture. Steve had been so tense for months now and you wanted to help him. You remembered he told you about the pillow forts he had built with Bucky when they were kids. He was missing his friend lately and you thought that this would might help. 
You had spent at least three hours to create the best pillow fort ever! There were fairy lights on the wall and over the blankets that were thrown from one pillow to another. It hadn’t been easy and you couldn’t count the times you had put it up again after it had fallen down. But finally you stood in front of your hard work and you were happy that you accomplished the task without throwing the pillows against the walls. You left the room to get some snacks. A movie was already opened on the laptop so you could watch it in the tight space together. 
When you came back Steve already stood in the doorway and stared at the surprise you had prepared. “Oh, I thought I had some time,” you mumbled and he turned around when he heard your voice. 
“What is this?” he asked and you were sure you picked up some amazement in his voice. 
“I remember you telling me about building a fort with Bucky and I thought you might need a pick me up, so I did this. I picked up a movie from your list that we could watch...” 
“I would like that very much,” Steve interrupted before you could ramble any more and you grinned at him. 
You held up the food in your hand. “I have some snacks.” 
The two of you crawled into the fort and got comfortable. You tried to put your head into a good position until Steve offered his arm as a pillow and how could you tell him no. The movie started and you almost couldn’t hear it over your fast beating heart. And if you could hear it, you bet Steve could hear it too. He didn’t comment it and instead started to stroke your arm with featherlight touches of his fingertips. Suddenly he stopped and you wanted to ask him why he was so tense when you heard it too. 
“Steve?” a loud booming voice asked. “Are you here? I need,” suddenly the blanket was lifted and you looked at Thor who stared at you and Steve. 
“What is this?” he asked confused. 
“A pillow fort,” you replied shortly after Steve didn’t make a move to answer him. 
“What is the purpose of it?” He knocked against the pillow next to him to point out what he was talking about, but it started to fall. 
“No,” both you and Steve almost screamed and Thor stopped it from falling. But instead of leaving he crawled into your space too. It had been a tight fit with Steve, but with Thor in the mix it was almost unbearable. Steve had pulled you almost onto himself and scooted over so Thor wouldn’t damage any more of your work. 
“Oh, are we watching a movie too?” 
“We?” you asked and tried to put as little as possible of your weight on Steve. 
“Oh there are also snacks, great,” Thor grabbed over you and found something he liked. He then took in how you and Steve were tangled. “This doesn’t look comfortable!” He took in your awkward position and mumbled something about how there was too little space until he pushed himself on his side, grabbed Steve around his stomach and pulled him towards him. You hadn’t realized how much strength he possessed until this moment. “Get on your side, don’t worry about me. I’m big, I can look over the two of you.” He pushed the two of you until you were all laying on your right side with Steve in the middle. 
You still used Steve’s arm as a pillow, but you had to admit you were a lot closer to him than before. You couldn’t complain about that, but when Thor started to talk again you hushed him. “Stop talking!” 
It was quiet after that and the first one to break the silence was actually you. “It’s almost like you’re Herkules,” you whispered and snuggled closer towards Steve’s arm. 
“Nah, Herkules is an ass. Steve instead is a very honorable man – with a nice ass I have to admit.” At that moment both you and Steve almost chocked on air. “What? A guy can admit that. He has a great ass – and you do too. You both have great asses and – wait, did I interrupt something here?” 
“YES!” It was the first thing Steve had said since Thor had joined you. “You are interrupting.” 
“I’m sorry brother. Mother always said I’m sometimes don’t realize,” he started to ramble. 
“Would you just go?” Steve asked again and Thor was quickly to leave – after snatching some more snacks. “I’m so sorry! I should have said something sooner,” the super soldier said once it was only the two of you again. He started to pull away, but you stopped him. 
“He means well. He’s just,” but you couldn’t find a word to describe it. “Do we want to continue watching this movie?” 
“Do you have any other options? Another Disney one maybe?” he asked into your neck and you snuggled a little bit closer to him. You agreed on Robin Hood and to be honest you would have agreed on anything that would have kept you in Steve’s arm. Even Thors annoying comments – although he was right about Steve’s ass. It was great! 
“Thank you for this,” Steve whispered in your ear while the music played in the background. He then kissed your neck and your heart picked up its pace again. 
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misswoozi · 2 years
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who would u say has the highest rated dick?
probably Changkyun or Young K tbh
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vrvrnet · 2 years
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The Inspiration Challenge ▸ Create content for a creator who inspires you, and tag other’s to do the same!
@kimyongs ♡ wonpiltual!! thank you for all your work as a verrer giffer on tumblr!! love your work and all your yongseung gifs <3!
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dearly-somber · 2 months
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I’m Yours | k.yh | day6
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-> pairing. non-idol!younghyun x female reader
-> genre. fluff, s2l (strangers-to-lovers), university!au, pining
-> rating. 13+
-> w/c. 886
-> warnings. none!
-> a/n. I’m you-o-o-o-ours
-> collection. songfic
-> started. ???
-> fin. Oct. 18th, 2020 @ 20:23
-> edited. Fri., Jul. 14th, 2023 @ 23:45
Light summer breeze. Petals falling down in the most satisfying way, pooling at your feet as you walk to the beat of your heart, holding the handle of your umbrella tight enough to whiten your knuckles.
The crickets were out now that the darkness had fallen, a slight drizzle of rain warming your blood. You were wearing an oversized sweater and some shorts that were hidden underneath the fabric you wore on your upper half, a pair of old sneakers to match.
You had decided to take a late night walk, eyes red and puffy from too much crying. You had been having some boy trouble and had been embarrassed in front of probably your whole university, so crying was the only way to make you feel less shitty, and no one could tell you otherwise. You had been walking for a few minutes and stopped by your favorite café near Han River, going to stand over the bridge running over the river after ordering yourself some coffee. You were sniffing the air with closed eyes when you suddenly opened them to what you had assumed was an angel, before you realized that he didn't have wings.
He was wearing a creamy beige turtle neck sweater and jeans with ankle high boots, his black hair falling very gently into his face and accentuating his jawline as he watched the water as if it was the most interesting thing on earth. He had a see-through umbrella over his shoulder, the fairy lights that were attached to it only making him look that much more angelic, if it were possible.
You continued shamelessly staring at the gorgeous stranger, eventually wandering over and standing next to him.
"Penny for your thoughts, stranger?" you asked in a light voice, a warm smile adorning your face.
The angel turned to look at you slowly, eyes jumping around questioningly, as if to ask "Who? Me?"
You immediately decide that this angel was cute and that you wanted to keep him, your smile getting wider. Just a few hours ago you had embarrassed yourself in front of everyone you knew while talking to a boy that you liked, yet here you were making it seem effortless.
"Do I know you?" He asked in the most honey like voice you had ever heard, the sound strangely addictive. Still smiling, you shook your head with a shrug.
"Not at all." You giggled childishly at the way his brow furrowed in confusion, at his mercy, completely helpless to his charms. "I just noticed the way you were staring at the water and you look like you're thinking very deeply about something," you explained, heart jumping into his hands when he laughed in disbelief, tilting his head at you with a smile.
"Is that so?"
You nodded, your cheeks starting to ache from smiling too much.
"Why don't I tell you over a cup of coffee, since we're at a café?" he asked cheekily, a grin pulling at his lips.
You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him over to the seating area. You turned to look at him with a grin of your own before saying, "Great idea! I've already ordered."
---
After sitting down he introduced himself as Kang Younghyun, occasionally called Brian by his close friends, who was majoring in Business at your university with Music as his extra classes. You told him your name, telling him that you’re majoring in Writing, hoping to become an editor (since you weirdly enough enjoy editing), and that you were taking art and music as extra classes.
"So then, Younghyun, you sill haven't answered my first question," you said matter-of-factly, sipping at your latte with a raised brow.
"Oh, that? I thought that was you flirting?" he mused with a smirk, the teasing tone in his voice making you chortle.
"Oh no it was, but I'm genuinely curious," you said, chortling at the way he laughed disbelievingly.
"I was thinking about how I need to man up and ask this girl I like in my music class out." he said, shrugging as he sighed deeply.
"Oh, you like someone?" you asked dejectedly, playing with your coffee cup. Brian nodded, sighing again.
"Well then," you said, slamming your fist against the table and gaining not only Younghyun's attention but a few people around you's attention as well.
"I say, go for it! I doubt you have anything to lose," you encouraged him confidently. He raised a brow with a smirk, looking at you as if to say "excuse me what?"
You rolled your eyes before starting to explain.
"Listen, Brian—can I call you Brian?"
"Go ahead." He smiled.
"Right then, Brian, listen. You seriously have nothing to lose. Maybe a smudge of pride but that's nothing. I mean have you seen yourself? I'm sure every girl would be willing to throw themselves at you, hell, sign me up!" you rambled on, hands all over the place and not realizing the way Younghyun was looking at you.
"You really think so?" he asked softly, making you think of a puppy, your heart melting.
You nodded solemnly, smiling at him.
"Definitely."
With the most shit eating grin ever, he cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Y/N, I really like you and would like to take you to dinner."
“Oh, shit.”
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29121996 · 11 months
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last rb
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21shotglasses · 1 year
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if you’ve never heard it don’t pick where are you. i’ll redo the poll if where are you sweeps so don’t even think about it.
though i would definitely recommend if you haven’t
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forlix · 7 months
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𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.
— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.
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words・7.7k
pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader
genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math
warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl
playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6
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a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you
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One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.
Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.
And now, there is him.
“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”
His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?
And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.
You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.
But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.
“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.
Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.
That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.
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Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.
You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.
“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.
“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.
When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 
“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.
“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 
“Wanna take a walk?”
“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”
This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.
“As long as you need me,” you say.
You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.
There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.
Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.
The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)
By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.
“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.
“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”
“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”
Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.
You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.
How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.
“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”
And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.
“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”
You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.
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Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.
You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.
But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.
When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.
From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH
You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.
From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)
Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.
From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two
Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.
Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.
Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 
There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.
Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."
But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.
“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”
There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.
And then he moves.
“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.
Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.
“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?
“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”
At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)
The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.
Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!
When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.
From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?
And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.
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Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.
“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”
A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.
“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”
The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 
“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.
The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.
Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.
In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.
Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.
The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.
You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."
“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”
“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”
Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.
“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”
“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.
Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.
“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”
“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.
You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.
To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him
A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.
From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP
You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.
“What's up?” You answer.
“I think I’m...stuck.”
Now what the hell does that mean?
“Can I come in?”
“Mhm.”
You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.
“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.
“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”
Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.
He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.
“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”
“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”
For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.
“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.
You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.
“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”
In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.
Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.
Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.
But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.
You reach your conclusion a second after he does.
Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.
A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.
Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.
“I love you,” he whispers.
A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.
But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.
An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.
You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.
But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.
You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.
And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.
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Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.
“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”
“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”
“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”
Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.
When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.
But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”
With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.
“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”
“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."
(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)
“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”
“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."
He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.
A month has passed since that night.
You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.
You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.
Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.
You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.
“We’re here,” Felix says.
The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.
Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.
“Not bad, huh?”
“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”
“C’mon.”
Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.
(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)
“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”
“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”
Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.
“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”
Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.
Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.
You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.
When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"
And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.
“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.
Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.
“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”
“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”
You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.
“Okay.” And the stage is yours.
You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.
It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 
So you take a deep breath.
“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.
“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”
You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.
“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”
Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.
“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.
“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”
You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.
“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”
Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.
“—please.”
And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.
When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 
The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.
And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.
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One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.
It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.
You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.
You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.
Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.
Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.
This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.
Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.
A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.
There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 
You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.
The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.
Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.
When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.
The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.
“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.
“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”
And so you do.
You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.
“Hey, Lix—"
When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.
“—I love you.”
Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.
Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”
He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”
“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”
Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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solecize · 15 days
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fic announcement: through the mist | jungkook x reader
remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes. ten years of lies and love and crawling back to one another. once shy, budding first love that blossomed before the weight of fame, the cracks begin to surface amidst your respective rises to stardom and navigation of your twenties. either finding euphoria or the end of the world, there's never any in between in existence for you and jungkook. as you build each other up and break each other down in front of millions of eyes, there is a crossroads ahead with words of "marriage" and "military" looming in the air - all while ignoring the price of fame breathing down your necks. this is the story of love and the lessons learned from the man you made your religion. and i wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser who only wanted you to see her
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of events that have occurred in real-life. the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. wip.
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 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
one. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ hold me tight | bts two.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ sixteen | samuel ft. changmo three.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ kingdom come | red velvet four. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthis ain't it | taeyang five.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ didn't know me | heize six.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤinvu | taeyeon ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ seven.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ first time | day6
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