#iu ending scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 2 months

Text

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

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—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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forlix · 7 months

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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vashtijoy · 1 year

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"let's make a deal", with and without Akechi's confidant

So the final showdown in the engine room differs in P5R, based on whether or not you max out Akechi's confidant. Let's take a look.

At this point, Akechi has raised the bulkhead door and is trapped on the wrong side of it, seriously wounded, with a furious Cognitive Akechi and a small mountain of shadows. Things do not look good for our deuteragonist:

Akechi: The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago. Akechi: You would have all perished... if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down.

[Phantom Thieves all go !]

Makoto [stepping forward]: Akechi-kun! Akechi: Let's make a deal, okay? You won't say no, will you? Yusuke [stepping forward]: Why, at a time like this!? Akechi: Change Shido's heart... in my stead... End his crimes... Akechi: Please!

Now here's our first divergence. You are offered different options, depending on whether or not you have the confidant:

without Akechi's confidant at stage 9

Joker can say either "I promise", or "Leave it to me". Aww, he's a good guy at heart, is our Akiren. This guy tried to shoot him and everything.

And what's Akechi's response? He opens his eyes, nods and smiles.

Aww. But note that he ALWAYS sacrifices himself, and for the same reasons. The difference the confidant makes is not to do with that—it's to do with something quite different, which we'll explore below....

with akechi's confidant at level 9

Now here are the options we all know and angst over:

A stage 9 confidant Joker, who has that bond with Akechi, who had the stage 8 showdown with him in Mementos and got the glove, gets "You better deliver your promise" and "I'll hold on to your glove".

And when you pick your option, what does Akechi do? Well, for a start, he has an emotional response:

... remember we talked about how the "empty" icon, from the interrogation room, doubles as the "feeling some unnameable emotion" face? Well, here it is again; you can see the model doing the same thing behind the sprite. If you don't max his confidant, you never see this. Only an Akechi who has connected with Joker over the year gets this shocked response when Joker challenges him for the last time. And, to be honest, it's not all that unnameable an emotion. This Akechi, in his final moments, knows what he's doing, and why, and can admit it—at least to himself.

Akechi ハッ、この期に及んでそれを言う?全く君ってヤツは、本当に⋯ ha! kono ki ni oyonde sore o iu? mattaku kimi tte yatsu wa, hontou ni... Heh... After all this, that's what you have to say? Seriously, you really are... Heh. That's what you say, at a time like this? I can't believe—you really are....

And it's only then that he trails off into the tiny smile.

Akechi never finishes that last sentence; he leaves something unsaid. Could be anything. Could be "ridiculous", could be "stupid"; could be any of Akechi's pet insults. But there's another possibility, that Akechi has been applying to Joker all along. He's called him it in this scene, before the fight. He called him it throughout his confidant. He's meant it more and more as the year has progressed.

That word is 面白い omoshiroi—"interesting, fun; fascinating". Yeah. "You'd better come through for me", Joker tells Akechi, who's about to die. "I swear to God," Akechi tells him in disbelief, "you never cease to amaze me."

At least, that's how I imagine it. And in my truther head, that's the difference between Akechi surviving and not. This Akechi, who couldn't care even when Cognitive Akechi had a gun to his head, gets something to live for at the last second; the one in the no-confidant engine room, who never appears in the post-credit sequence, did not.

Here's the excerpt:

Baww.

the end of the scene

Cognitive Akechi: You bastard... Akechi [struggling to his feet]: So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself...

... and immediately fork for the second time.

Akechi [without confidant]: Not bad. Akechi [with confidant]: I...!

"I"?? "I", Akechi??? WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY?

Non-confidant Akechi has settled for the irony of taking out "the puppet [he] was" (ningyo datta ore jishin, localised as "a puppet version of myself"); he considers this "not bad". This is also the line you get in vanilla P5, where the confidant was automatic.

But confidant Akechi's sentence is unfinished. He has left something undone. He has something left to say, something left to do. Something to live for.

I wonder what it is, at that moment, that he's regretting, or determined to do, or undo, or redo. What it is that gives him the strength to survive. Because we're all friends here; we all know he makes it, somehow.

The only hint in the original is that his line is not just ore, but ore wa—Akechi is comparing himself to others. So the sense is perhaps that Cognitive Akechi is "the puppet he was", but Akechi himself is no longer a puppet. It's good. But non-confidant Akechi would share that same sentiment. Something more is going on here.

With that, we move on to the end of the scene:

Haru [running forward]: Akechi-kun! Ann [stepping forward]: Isn't there some way to get this open, Mona?

[two gunshots are heard, about a second apart—and yes, they are identical in both routes and both language tracks]

Futaba: His signal is... gone... Futaba: I'm only getting... the weaklings... Ann: No... Morgana: Come on, you guys! Morgana: We can't let a rotten criminal like Shido do what he wants any longer! Morgana: We can't... no matter what!

Two things here. First, the second's delay on the gunshots seems... odd; I'd expect the shots to be either simultaneous or for there to be only one shot. Maybe someone who's ever seen a gun can clarify this. Though the fact that the shots are always identical suggests that this is not significant.

Second, Futaba always has both of her lines. I've seen it said that these are different depending on your confidant track, but no. She always says she can't detect a signal, and she always says she only detects the "weaklings".

I do find it interesting that, like the true ending cutscene, these tracks are so much more different than I realised depending on your Akechi choices. One of these paths is also clearly much more interesting than the other—the Akechi confidant track is the "true ending", the true plot; the other is there for the weirdos who just hate murder and treachery and pancakes, idk. Which is why the no-confidant 2/2 scene, where Akechi never shows up and is revived because Maruki thinks all the PTs want him back, doesn't make so much sense.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #japanese language #engine room #goro akechi

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taehyungfirst · 3 months

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Okay, time to write down the things I loved during Love Wins All:

- Taehyung’s acting was phenomenal. Since the first second when you can hear him panting, I already knew he was gonna give the performance of his life. AND HE DID. The emotions in his eyes, the way he looked at IU, the marriage scene, the singing scene, the fighting scene? He was amazing. We love you actor Taehyung we need more.

- IU protecting Taehyung during the whole video because he was much more injured than her and couldn’t see from one eye, so she was often leading him, being in front of him or trying to fight the cube herself (Taehyung taking the bat from her and fighting? CHEF’S KISSES)

- THE CHEMISTRY. THE CHEMISTRY THEY HAD DURING THE MARRIAGE SCENE WHERE IU IS SINGING GUYS THE WAY THEY LOOKED AT EO I WAS ON THE FLOOR

- I loved LOVED that they could have a few last happy moments even if through a camera, doing normal things like eating at a restaurant, taking pics together… it was so soft.

- Last scene is poetic. Them being together until the end, made me cry fr. Just loved the mv so much, IU and Tae were phenomenal, the song is good and their acting and the storyline was perfect.

Feel free to share your thoughts with me 🫂

#let me know what you think of the mv im gonna rewatch it again #ACTORHYUNG WE LOVE YOU #taehyung #iu #love wins all #bts #actorhyung

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neouime · 3 months

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Love Wins All: An Analysis

Here are my notes for the music video. I have more to say, but it's already two in the morning where I live, and I have been sitting here admiring and contemplating IU's artistry since four hours ago. My butt hurts. I will come here later once I let my thoughts marinate.

There's a cube object chasing after them. - The cube is obviously the antagonist of the story. I have no idea why they chose a cube rather than any other creature or shape. Maybe because the design is simple? I think a cube is a smart choice. It looks like human technology, something man-made. The cube may be an invention that was once intended for the benefit of humankind but ended up becoming an instrument for control. The shape of the cube with its equal sides can represent a system that demands conformity.

IU is mute/deaf (she uses sign language), and Taehyung is blind in one eye. - There is one reading by a Korean UAENA about how they represent people with disabilities. There is one cube targeting IU and Taehyung. No other people are shown, but by the end of the music video, we can see several floating cubes outside the building. We can deduce how the cubes may be specifically searching for individuals like them who are marginalized and in hiding.

There is a scene where IU performs on stage, and black figures point their fingers at her. - IU explicitly declared that the song is dedicated to her loved ones, including her fans. We can interpret the black figures as representing people who spread unnecessary hate (혐오) against artists like IU. (Regardless of context, pointing your fingers in Korean culture is considered rude. It is associated with assigning blame or picking out flaws.)

Both the cube and the people in black are forces that persecute and discriminate, respectively. - This reading stems from the fact that IU is a well-known personality in real life and that her character in the story has disabilities.

While there is a male and female lead, the story and the song are not exclusively romantic. LWA is a fan song. Taehyung represents UAENAs.

While IU sings on stage, he gives her flowers and looks at her adoringly. - They are able to spend moments both happy and sad by each other's side. At the end of the story, Taehyung stands in front of IU to defend her from the cube and destroy it, while IU comforts him and covers his eyes as they're killed.

The camera and the pile of clothes are details prompting an intertextual reading. - This will be familiar to ARMY, but the pile of clothes is an installation by Christian Boltanski. This does not require further explanation since we can infer what it symbolizes from the story's outcome. On the other hand, the camera is something that is more important to the plot than it seems. It captures only the beautiful and healthy appearance of IU and Taehyung. The Korean UAENA I mentioned earlier said that the camera shows an existence where people with disabilities can live happily.

The camera shuts down by the end of the music video. - Nothing is recorded, and the memories are lost. But then, how does "love win all?" Okay, we'll look at the lyrics. "찬찬히 너를 두 눈에 담아 한 번 더 편안히 웃어주렴 (With my eyes, I memorize you thoroughly. Let's laugh in peace once more.)

Artists like IU come and go. - For every single and album she releases, IU writes an introduction. For LWA, she sums up the story as a promise to "fade away together splendidly." Also, the lyrics "필연에게서 도망쳐 Run on" appear, which both mean to run away from (도망쳐, to escape) and to run towards the "inevitable." (Korean is not my first language so pardon me if I'm wrong, but I think there's a mistake with the translation provided in the music video. There, the lyrics say "run away from necessity, run on." They use the word necessity, but she's referring to an event that is certain to occur.)

Memories [of their music and their moments with fans] are all lost to history; what matters is to live in the moment. (You don't need a camera to prove that you existed and lived your life.) This aligns with her values as an artist. In her interviews, IU says her goal is to perform (creation rather than chart success).

You may say that the story is tragic because they both die in the end, but they were at peace since they were together. "일부러 나란히 길 잃은 우리 두 사람" (The two of us, side by side, gone astray on purpose). **Edit: IU Team StarCandy on Twitter translated the phrase 길 잃은 우리 as "[we] who took the road less travelled."

I love the lines "너와 슬퍼지고 싶어 My lover" (I want to be sad with you) and "부서지도록 나를 꼭 안아" (Crush me, wrap me tightly in your arms). It illustrates the relationship between IU as an artist and her fans. The song is a declaration of her intention to cherish the good and bad with us. She does not mind even if the pressure of our love sometimes feels intense. She believes love has the power to break you down, but instead, it builds you up.

Additionally, the line "나와 함께 겁 없이," which is translated as "Will you courageously set with me?" actually more literally translates to "together with me, without fear." There is trust between IU and her lover. In other words, they may not know where the journey leads them, but they consciously choose to walk to it together.

A few more details from the music video that I loved are as follows. I like that the food (the macaron) is connected to memory and joy. It's the end of the world, but they haven't lost their imagination, hope, and ability to delight in each other's presence. In a way, food is crucial to survival in terms of sustenance and because it brings simple pleasure.

After taking a bite, they are transported to a less dreary setting. Their clothes are the same, but they're no longer tattered. Of course, things aren't perfect because while things are more clean, the people themselves remain evil. IU and Taehyung maintain their cheerful disposition even as the black figures appear and surround them.

IU and Taehyung choose to be happy. They dress up and dance around the room despite the reality that everything is still in ruins. (The photo booth is lit in bright, warm colors, while the room outside is cold and blue. Another piece of evidence for this interpretation is that while they're blissfully taking pictures, the strips come out showing Taehyung's milky eyes.)

I also like the alternative explanation for why IU is deaf, and Taehyung is partially blind. - IU performs happily in front of the crowd of black figures. It may mean that she either cannot hear or will not listen to their words of hate. As for Taehyung, he is partially blind to IU's faults. IU (the idol/artist) is the one leading them as they run while Taehyung (their fan) follows, their hands clasped in each other.

Moreover, neither of them speaks throughout the story. Whether IU is deaf or she signs to avoid making noise and risk their capture, I think it's beautiful that they can communicate through gestures. The relationship between fan and artist goes beyond the need for words (which is ironic, too, since we become fans of IU's music before the artist herself. Through her lyrics, we learn of her personality and how she sees the world).

I LOVE their acting. It's almost scarily good how IU can convey her love through her gaze. The smallest details too!! Her softly tapping Taehyung's shoulder to calm him while he tightly grips her hand as they face death? Chills.

Okay, I'm back. I just want to add this:

I said that the song is not exclusively romantic. However, the element of romance is indeed important to the plot. It elevates the story by depicting people (including those with disabilities) finding love even in the middle of hardship. - Their hardship is not the disability itself but rather the prejudices in the world that limit the possibilities they can enjoy.

IU and Taehyung know that the "end" is "inevitable" (she uses both words in her lyrics), and they know that they can only steal these short moments of happiness, but they still try to "look for the opposite of loneliness" (오랜 외로움 그 반대말을 찾아서).

Trivia: IU says that whenever she's stuck with writing a song, she uses the suggestion of a peer (Kim Eana) to look up the meaning of a word in the dictionary. Thus, giving birth to the idea love = opposite of feeling/being alone.

Love as an act of resistance - Viewing a brighter world through the camera, IU wearing the veil, and the pair teasing the black figures (IU sings on the stage despite their jeering and they run around the room) are acts of resistance. They may have a poor imagination (가난한 상상력), wherein they still desire to become "normal" and without their disabilities, but it is also thanks to their imagination that they are able to endure.

youtube

Note: The translations are mine. It's always difficult to think of how to word sentences that fully preserve the sentiment of the source, especially since they're song lyrics.

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bts-trans · 2 months

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230707 Big Hit's Tweet

[네이버 포스트] 띵동! 슈가 & Agust D & 윤기의 모습을 가득 담은 종합 선물 세트가 도착했습니다🎁 (@ https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.naver?volumeNo=36214098&memberNo=51325039) #BTS #방탄소년단 #슈가 #SUGA #AgustD #D_DAY

[Naver Post] Ding dong! Your SUGA & Agust D & Yoongi gift set has arrived🎁 (@ https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.naver?volumeNo=36214098&memberNo=51325039)

#BTS #SUGA #AgustD #D_DAY

Naver Post Translation

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[BTS] SUGA | Agust D 'D-DAY' 활동기 비하인드 대공개!

[BTS] SUGA | Agust D ‘D-DAY’ Activity Period Behind-the-Scenes Release!

아-하!

Hi-A!

(T/N: Stands for ‘Hi ARMY’, which is how Bangbell always starts these posts.)

꒰⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝꒱੭⁾⁾

방림이가 너무 오랜만에 왔죠? (;´・`)> 오랜만에 온 만큼 어마 무시한 포스트 주인공을 데리고 왔는데요?! 오늘의 주인공은 바로바로바로바로~~~ (모두 다 알고 있지만) SUGA | Agust D의 솔로 앨범 활동기 비하인드!

It’s been a while since Bangbell was here, right? (;´・`)>

But since it’s been a while, I’ve brought an incredible star for this post?! And today’s star is is is is is~~~ (You all already know but) The behind-the-scenes for SUGA | Agust D ’s solo album activity period!

포스트를 시작하기에 앞서 퀴즈 나갑니다 민슈가의 매력 포인트는 무엇일까요? 1. 귀여움 2. 멋있음 3. 섹시함 4. 잘생김 5. 말랑함 정답은요?

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 아무래도 당모. 당연히 모두 다. 슈가의 귀여움, 멋있음, 섹시함, 잘생김, 말랑함을 다 모아 포스트에 가-득 담아왔으니 바로 시작하시죠!

Before we start this post, there’s a quiz

What’s Min Suga’s most charming feature?

His cuteness

His coolness

His sexiness

His handsomeness

His squishiness

The answer?

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 No matter what you pick AOTA. All Of The Above.

I’ve gathered together all of Suga’s cuteness, coolness, sexiness, handsomeness, and squishiness and have put it aaall in this post so let’s begin!

말랑 포근 남친 + 예민 존잘 수트 남신 두 가지 콘셉트를 전부 볼 수 있었던 ‘사람 Pt.2 (feat. 아이유)’ MV 비하인드로 가볍게 시작해 볼까요?

A soft and cozy boyfriend + A sharp, handsome, suit-wearing god Shall we start with the behind-the-scenes for the ‘People Pt.2 (feat. IU)’ MV where you can see both of these concepts?

*Ꙩꙻ₀Ꙩꙻ)！ 조그만 곳에 들어가는 걸 좋아하고 신 걸 못 먹는 걸 보니 민윤기는 고양이가 확실합니다(?) MV에서는 그렇게 날티나던 OPPA였는데 현장에선 이렇게 귀여운 게 말이 돼?! ㄴ외않되

*Ꙩꙻ₀Ꙩꙻ)！ He likes going into small places and he can’t eat sour things so I’m positive that Min Yoongi is a cat(?)

In the MV he appeared like such a playboy OPPA* But on set he’s so cute. Does that even make sense?! ㄴWhy not?

(T/N: ‘Oppa’ is the Korean word women use to refer to a man who is older than them. Female fans also use this term affectionately for male celebrities.)

5252~ 귀여운 ‘해금’ MV 속 애옹이를 보느라 처연미 넘치는 ‘AMYGDALA’ MV 비하인드도 잊으면 안된다구 항상 미남이지만 본인피셜 “이때 예뻤네~!” 말이 나오게 만드는 ‘AMYGDALA’ MV 속에서는 더더욱 어머 미남.. ⸝⸝• ̫•⸝⸝

Hey hey*~ Just because you saw a cute kitty in the ‘Haegeum’ MV doesn’t mean you can forget about the ‘AMYGDALA’ MV that’s full of tragic beauty

(T/N: The number 5252 is pronounced “oh ee oh ee / 오이오이” in Korean, which sounds a lot like the greeting “Hey / eo ee, 어이” that you would shout at someone.)

He’s always been a handsome man but in the ‘AMYGDALA’ MV even he ended up saying “Wow, I looked so pretty then~!” Oh my what a handsome man.. ⸝⸝• ̫•⸝⸝

깜짝 사연 모집과 함께 오랜만에 돌아와서 아미들을 놀라게 했는데 보이는 라디오를 통해 더 물오른 미모로 더더더 놀라게 했던 꿀에펨부터 슙디… 금방 돌아온다고 했으니까 기다릴게… 기다린다! 우리… 한 발자국도 안 움직인다! 슙디 돌아올 때까지 숨참기 시작

Starting with Kkul FM which came back after a long time along with a surprise story submission form and really caught ARMYs off guard and surprised them even more with his beautiful looks through a video radio show

DJ Syub*… you said you’ll be back soon so we’ll wait… we’ll wait! We… won’t even move a single step! Starting now we’re holding our breath until DJ Syub returns

(T/N: The alias Suga uses when he hosts his radio show Kkul FM.)

있지도 않은 남사친 기억 조작하게 만들면서 많은 아미들 심장 떨리게 만들었던 팔레트

Palette, which made everyone think of a guy friend that they don’t even have and made so many ARMYs’ hearts flutter

미니미즈가 함께 출연한 핑계고에서 본 뜻밖의 귤디 (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

갑작스런 퀴즈. 슈가는 핑계고에서 귤을 몇 개를 먹었을까요? 정답은 아미가 알려줄 거야…

Tangerine D was unexpectedly seen on Just an Excuse which the Minimis* appeared on together (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

(T/N: A nickname for Suga and Jimin.)

Pop quiz. How many tangerines did Suga eat on Just an Excuse? ARMYs will let you know the answer…

주인장 아니고 게스트로 나와서 으른 섹시 + 잔망 귀여움 다 보여줬던 슈취타 아니고 알취타도 있구요!

He appeared as a guest instead of the host and showed off menacing sexiness + adorableness And it wasn’t Suchwita, it was Rchwita*!

(T/N: The name of Suga’s talk show ‘Suchwita’ changed to ‘Rchwita’ when RM hosted for one episode.)

of the 아미 for the 아미 by the 아미 오로지 아미만을 생각하면서 준비한 로드 투 아미 솔직히 정식으로 귀미챌 한 번 더 해줘야 된다고 생각합니다. (진지)

of the ARMY for the ARMY by the ARMY He prepared Road to ARMY while only thinking of ARMY

If I’m being honest, I think he needs to do the SICC* again. (I’m serious)

(T/N: Stands for “Sorry I’m Cute Challenge,” which was a trend many idols did during fanmeets.)

해외에 나가서도 아미들이랑 이야기 나누고 싶다고 현지 시간으로 이른 아침 일찍부터 찾아와 조곤조곤 많은 이야기 나누고 간 발매 라이브에

Even when he went overseas he said he wanted to talk to ARMYs So he got up in the early hours local time And, very quietly, talked a lot during his album release live

빽빽한 미국 스케줄 사이에 깜짝 무대 선물해 준 팰런쇼

In between his packed schedule in the U.S. He gifted us with a surprise performance on the Fallon Show

두 가지 매력의 데이트룩도 차려입고 아미들과 영화관 데이트했던 무비 나잇까지..!

He donned two date outfits with two different charms and went on a movie date with ARMYs for Movie Night..!

끝인 줄 알았지?! 최고의 선물 ‘해금’ 안무 영상은 또 얼마나 열심히 준비했게요

You thought this was the end right?!

How hard must he have prepared for the ‘Haegeum’ dance practice video, which was the best gift ever

해금 추는 민윤기… 다시 볼 수 있기 기원 정권 찌르기 1일차… 콘서트 준비에 바빴을 텐데 아미들 심심하지 말라고 언제 다 준비해놓고 짜잔- 한 상 차려놓은 민윤기 안 사랑하는 법 나는 몰라 진짜 몰라 ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )

Min Yoongi dancing to Haegeum… This is day 1 of pestering the higher ups to let me see that again…

He must have been so busy preparing for his concerts But just so ARMYs wouldn’t be bored Min Yoongi prepared everything at some point and ta da- He prepared an entire feast Seriously I don’t even know how I’m not supposed to love him ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )

여기에 콘서트는 또 얼마나 기깔나게 준비했다구욧!? 콘서트 준비 과정도 함께 만나볼까요? ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Just how much did he say he prepared here for the concert!? Shall we go check out the concert preparation process? ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

고양이도 콘서트 포스터 촬영을 할 수 있는 건가요? 슈가는 없고 앙큼 고영 밖에 없는데요?

Can cats also take photos for concert posters? There’s no Suga here just a devious kitty?

비상비상!!! 1 아미 1 애옹이 보급 시급 이과 아미들 뭐 하는데!! 민윤기 복제 안 하고 뭐 하는데!! (땡깡)

Emergency emergency!!! 1 ARMY 1 kitty are urgently needed ARMYs who studied science, what are you doing!! Why haven’t you cloned Min Yoongi yet!! (Throwing a tantrum)

✧/ᐠ-ꞈ-ᐟ| 이 이모티콘 그 잡채…

✧/ᐠ-ꞈ-ᐟ| He’s the epitome of this emoticon…

의미 있는 자신감으로 Full 라이브 밴드 콘서트를 준비한 슈가… 아미들 마음을 조사버릴 민윤기 책임져.. 난 365일 중에 613일 정도는 민윤기 생각만 한다고 그리고 대망의 콘.서.트. 두둥!

Full of meaningful confidence Suga prepared a full live-band concert…

Min Yoongi, who’s destroying ARMYs’ hearts Take responsibility.. I think of only Min Yoongi 613 days out of 365 days

And now the long-awaited con.cert.

Drum roll!

크으으으으으으 My rap star… My rockstar… My king… 슈가는 왕이에요…

Woooooooooow My rap star… My rockstar… My king… Suga is the king…

이렇게 길고 알찼던 활동만큼 길고도 알찼던 활동기 포스트가 끝이 났습니다! 뭐 잊은 거 없냐구요? 乁(ᴗ ͜ʖ ᴗ)ㄏ 글~쎄요?? 넝담이고~

For as long and packed as this activity period was this long and packed acitivity period post is coming to an end!

You’re saying I forgot something?

乁(ᴗ ͜ʖ ᴗ)ㄏ I~don’t know??

Just a joke~

이 포스트를 빌려 아미에게 방림이 전할게 음음음음 다행히도 보여줄 사진은 여태 많이 남았네

Bangbell will take this post as a chance to tell ARMY Mm mm mm mm Thankfully there are still many pictures I have yet to show you*

(T/N: A reference to Suga’s verse in ‘Life Goes On.’)

포스트에 빠질 수 없는 셀카! 이쁜 셀카 이렇게 잔뜩 모아왔다구요! <(=^･^=)> 다양한 콘텐츠와 공연으로 아미들을 즐겁게 해준 슈가 & Agust D & 윤기에게 많은 박수 부탁드립니다~!!! (와아아아~~)

The selfies that we can’t leave out of this post! I’ve gathered all of these pretty selfies! <(=^･^=)>

Please give a big round of applause for Suga & Agust D & Yoongi for preparing all kinds of content and performances for ARMYs to enjoy~!!! (Yaaaaay~~)

어라랏..? 이쯤하면 아뿅이 나올 때가 됐는데..?

Umm..? Doesn’t ‘A-Poof’ usually appear right about now..?

따란~

Ta da~

여러분들이 그렇게 찾던 고양이 셀카를 두고 올 방림이가 아니죠 ~(˘▾˘)~

Bangbell has brought the cat selfie that you all were looking for ~(˘▾˘)~

요즘 날씨가 많이 더운데 방림이가 더위를 물리치는 특별 방법을 알려드릴게요! 1. 슈가 사진 보기 2. Agust D 노래 듣기 3. 민윤기 사랑해 외치기

It’s been so hot recently so Bangbell will let you know a special method to beat the heat!

Look at photos of Suga

Listen to Agust D songs

Shout that you love Min Yoongi

그럼 다들 더위 조심하시고~ 다음에 또 다른 선물 같은 콘텐츠로 돌아오겠습니다!

So be careful of the heat~ I’ll come back next time with more gift-life contents!

아-뿅!

A-Poof!

(T/N: Short for “Bye ARMY! Poof!”, which is how Bangbell always ends these posts.)

. ̫ .

[Note]

본 포스트는 BIGHIT MUSIC에서 직접 운영하는 포스트입니다.

This Naver Post account is personally managed by BIGHIT MUSIC.

[End Note]

#230707 #suga #yoongi #agust d #big hit #official #twitter #naver #bangbell #blogpost #bts #bangtan #photos #d-day #promotion period #haegeum #very many nice pictures #the gratitude runs deep #tangerines and kitties

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omegamannn · 29 days

Text

The Omega Library 10/10

Viviz/Gfriend SinB -Ruined -Best Buddies Eunha -Merry Christmas Umji -Getting what I want -Picturesque Undressed -Raffle winner -Betrayed -Jealousy -Old friends come back -Memories of a dream -The goddess' challenge -Persuading the innocent -Tiebreaker Sowon -Behind The Scenes

Weeekly Zoa -Friday outing -Love in an elevator XG Jurin -Bad Idea Soloists Eunbi -Serendipity -Waterbombed -Untitled breeding smut -Mommy has needs -The neighbors' kink feat. Sohee -Another gym buddy -My semi-idol life pt. 1 -Castle of a thousand spiders -Home -Mildly unfair -MILF in the class -Midnight feat. Jihyo & Karina -Trouvaille -Overlord feat. Hyewon -Matchmaker -Out of bounds -Glitched Desires -Eunbi's Dinner -The royal chest -Film shooting -Skyline feat. Hyewon -Tentacle game! -Forever Diamonds -Underwater -Empress -Like a moth to a flame -Deal with the devil IU -Photographer pt. 1 -Photographer pt. 2 -Interlude: Above the sky -Untitled foursome feat. Tzuyu & Irene -Concerto pt. 1 -Interlude: Venice Somi -Untitled Blackmail feat. Karina -Snowball effect -Snowball continues rolling -Culmination -Beautiful Colleague -Interlude: Lonely -Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard feat. Nancy -Temptation -Quiet -Lights and cameras -XOXO Jini -Untitled -Career's dead end Yena -Wicked Lover Taeyeon -Drive T Too many idols to list 😳 -Just testing -Maknae Royale -Unlikely Love -King of Oshiri -Surviving NNN -Crossing the river -Dreamday

#smut #girlgroup #xg #eunbi #jini #yena #choi yena #kwon eunbi #iu #jeon somi #taeyeon #viviz #gfriend

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kiwiaok · 3 months

Text

aftg is eating up my brain so badly, I have a constant stream of ideas and I’m shit at actually writing them but I need to get them out of my system bc it’s suffocating, so:

• an au where king and sir turn out to be shapeshifters so andreil magically acquire two spoiled kids

• andreil saying to each other ‘IU’ instead of ‘I hate you’ or ‘I love you’ or anything else. they use it in every kind of situation bc it’s the testament of how much they feel about each other and that’s more important to them than anything else. they’re fighting? IU (I hate you, I’m scared for you, I’m scared of how much power you have over me, I still want you to stay) they’re having sex? IU (I trust you, I love you, I’m going to take care of you, I’ll make you feel good) they’re breaking down? IU (I’ve got you, I’m here, I’m going to stay, I’m going to help best I can)

• a fic where neil dies in baltimore and we see the aftermath told from his perspective as a ghost: introspection, character study, cannibalism, polaroids, inspired by strangers by ethel cain:

• neil taking great pleasure in buying andrew expensive things and seeing him use them, not out of possessiveness but bc he truly just wants andrew to be happy and taken care of. and andrew learning to accept those gifts bc neil never wants anything in return, not even gratitude

• neil getting drugged at eden’s by some stranger and proceeding to glue himself to andrew’s side. the next day andrew is frustrated by that show of trust and he asks how neil could know that it wasn’t him doing the drugging. to which neil replies that he didn’t know that, but he knew that andrew wouldn’t drug him or let anyone touch him without a good reason. so it was okay, he just needed to trust andrew’s judgement and stick by him. and then andrew realising just how much faith neil has in him and having a breakdown about it

• after neil’s bad days, andrew spoons neil and keeps his hand wrapped around neil’s throat while they’re sleeping. it makes neil feel safe and grounded and makes andrew drunk on trust and control (bonus scene: foxes witnessing this one day and completely failing at understanding their dynamic)

• neil getting into a habit of spitting after his time at the nest bc riko used to spit into his mouth and make him swallow it as a power play. whenever neil remembers it the thought of any spit in his mouth, even his own, makes him sick. so he spits

• whenever aaron is on the edge of relapsing instead of telling anyone he just trails after andrew 24/7 bc he knows his brother won’t let him destroy his life

• tlou au where andrew is traveling the world in search of his twin brother and he’s hired to transport neil somewhere. meanwhile, they fall in love with each other and they find out andrew was supposed to deliver neil into his father’s hands (andrew promised neil safety and he refuses to break his promise so this becomes the first job andrew ever failed)

• andreil breaking up and neil desperately trying to prove to himself that he can move on so he takes the page from andrew’s books and starts sleeping around, but he only succeeds in hurting himself and feeling miserable (they get back in the end bc I need them to be happy)

• OH MY GOD HORNY KANDREIL CLASSICAL MUSIC AU!! kevin (and neil?) playing violin and drew being freakishly good at playing every instrument he ever touches but especially the piano. kev giving a performance and andreil sitting in the first row, neil getting a hard on bc kevin looks so good in his suit, with slightly greying hair combed back and passion burning in his eyes. andrew discretely edging him on, palming neil’s dick through the fancy suit’s material and keeping eye contact with kevin the whole time

AND SO MUCH MORE AAAAAA. this is insufferable, I’m writing fics in my head to fall asleep and then I’m waking up literally quoting aftg (genuinely happened last week, I felt like a lunatic) and then I’m going to uni and I spend every lecture thinking about how I can use my degree to better write about those stupid murderous college athletes. what kind of crack did you put in this series, nora?????

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #fanfiction #ao3 #aftg trilogy #kandreil #kiwiaok

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authorhjk1 · 6 months

Note

Interlude: Lonely is great! Thanks for writing!

Was there a particular scene in that fic where you spent a lot more time constructing in your head?

Which part was there hardest to write?

How would IU react if at the end there OC pulls out and slam himself into Miyeon's pussy painting her insides instead? I think Miyeon would be secretly coaxing OC to pull this off 😛

Alternate Ending:

IU feels your cock entering her further and further with every drop. The dildo in her ass makes her feel something she never had before. It almost feels unreal to her as if she is hanging in midair, while she is getting fucked. Ji-eun has long given up to find out who is standing behind her. She is too lost in pleasure to care.

Still blindfolded, she is unable to see how you look at Miyeon. The younger girl's knees are buckling, her own orgasm slowly approaching.

"Lie down."

Miyeon follows your order. Slowly, her strap on leaves IU's ass while you lift the older woman up further. Exhausted, after trying to hold out for so long, Miyeon falls onto the bed. She is excited to watch you fuck IU, while fingering herself.

You have something different in mind. As you watch her take off the dildo with a whine, you pull out of IU. It's a hard task, but rewarding. Her tight pussy lips grip onto every inch of your cock until the last moment.

"Holy-"

A mini orgasm rushes through IU as she feels you leave her warmth.

"I hope you are as good at eating pussy as you are at sucking cock."

You push IU onto the bed as well, after turning her around. She lands face first in between Miyeon's legs. You wink at the younger woman before looking at IU.

Ji-eun tastes the woman's juices on her skin before hesitantly sticking her tongue out. It's not like she has never done this before. She is just wondering who it is. Her thoughts are interrupted as she feels your tip at her rear entrance. Her mouth widens in surprise as you slowly glide inside her ass. IU's muscles are already a little loose, thanks to Miyeon, but her dildo doesn't compare to your cock in thickness. You make Ji-eun see stars once more as you push further.

The Korean woman's face is now pressed into the younger girl's snatch. With a hand in her hair, IU is unable to resist. With the remaining willpower she has left, she starts to eat out Miyeon. Her small body is being rocked back and forth with every thrust. Although Miyeon already fucked her ass, you are only able to push into her halfway. Ji-eun's ass and mind can't take much more.

"Your dick looks so good in her ass."

She hears Miyeon sigh as she tuggs at her hair, desperate for the coming release.

"Did I make her hole big enough for you, daddy?"

Ji-eun hears you groan at the other girl's words. She keeps eating her out, her mind trying its best to stay focused. Behind your tie, her eyes roll to the back of her head as you push a little further inside.

"You are stretching her out so well. Listen how loud she is moaning."

Only after hearing the other girl's words does IU realise how loud she has become.

"Fuck, I'm close."

She hears you moan, and she feels your cock twitching inside her ass.

"Fill my ass, baby."

IU moans into Miyeon's pussy. Unbeknownst to her, the younger girl shakes her head.

"No, daddy. Please cum in me. She already had a load."

Her whine makes IU jealous. She wants more of your cum inside her body. She was so lonely for the last month, she can't pass up on the opportunity to get her ass filled with cum. Determined to make you orgasm inside her hole, IU does her best to eat out Miyeon. This way, she wouldn't be able to beg for more.

Ji-eun's plan backfires, though. As Miyeon continues to whine and moan for your load, you are more and more willing to give it to her. She needs to be rewarded for this after all.

"Dadd, I'm gonna cum too! Please cum in me! I promise my pussy will take all of it."

IU's competitive side kicks in. While she pushes Miyeon closer and closer, she also tries to tighten her muscles around you. There is no way she is going to let go of you. You feel it becoming harder for you to fuck her ass.

"Daddy! Now!"

Miyeon is barely a second away. To IU's astonishment, you are able to pull out her ass. She feels Miyeon pulling her away from her pussy by her hair, making her hiss in pain. She feels your body right next to hers.

"Holy fuck!"

Miyeon almost screams as you thrust forward. The two of you cum immediately. Miyeon's wet pussy around your cock makes you paint her insides white as she orgasms herself. Her walls contract around you as you cum in her. You watch her face twitch in pleasure.

Ji-eun, desperate to at least taste you again, rips your tie off her eyes. Not even caring anymore about the other girl's identity, she dives forward. IU places her mouth around yours and Miyeon's connection. As you pull out,you watch her eat your cum out of Miyeon. The younger girl shakes again, her unnie making her orgasm again already.

----------

This got longer as expected, but I hope you enjoyed it.

I have to say, the hardest part for me is actually the build-up, since I'm not a really outgoing person, and I'm always afraid that part comes off weird or unrealistic.

The longest part for me to write was IU's blowjob. Because it looked too good in my head, I had to take, let's say,more breaks than expected. And afterwards, the pose she is doing as well.

This was really fun. Thank you for this amazing question.

#kpop #kpop smut #anon #ask #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #lee jieun

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kmgkmg · 9 months

Text

YES NO MAYBE - JEON WONWOO

word count: 1.7k…

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

synopsis: wonwoo sits down for an interview after his pictorial to answer some questions, what he wasn't expecting was you to be the one interviewing him.

genre/s: angst, idol!wonwoo, ex!wonwoo, magazine editor!reader

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: submission for k-label's firsts for everything event! the title and fic are inspired by bae suzy's solo debut with yes no maybe! while the title track is def the biggest inspiration, i relied on all of the mini album since it's one of my absolute favorites of kpop. also leaned into iu's discography a lot and ending scene was another inspiration. thank you @gyusangels and @hwasangelbaby for being the beta readers!

Wonwoo’s steps can be heard against the floor as he enters the studio. People are still shuffling about busily, setting up before the shoot officially starts. Next to the clothing racks, various conceptual pictures are taped all along the wall. He scans the pictures, trying his best to get a grasp of what vibe he had to emulate for the day.

The continuous clicking sounds of the camera’s shutter rings in Wonwoo’s ears while the flashes of light hurt his eyes. On top of that, the studio booms with loud music to set the mood for the shoot. With each flash, Wonwoo subtly readjusts himself to a new pose. Five outfit changes along with five different hairstyles and makeup looks. Exhausted is an understatement. The shoot proceeds for nearly three hours before finally getting the last shot approved by the magazine’s staff.

“You were absolutely terrific!” The enthusiastic photographer praises Wonwoo and Wonwoo immediately turns bashful. He’s weak to compliments, especially when the cameras are turned off.

His manager approaches him with a water bottle and a handheld fan.

“Are we done for the day then?” Wonwoo asks after sipping and starts to take the uncomfortable jacket off.

His manager avoids his eyes, an indication to Wonwoo that the day was not over. “You still have the Q&A video to film. Their Chief Editor is interviewing you.”

He pats his manager’s shoulder, reassuring him to not worry. “Q&A videos are a breeze! What do you want to grab for lunch afterwards?”

“Today’s weather is perfect for…sushi?” His manager suggests.

Wonwoo is energized by the thought of eating sushi later on. “Now that you have motivated me, this interview will be done in no time!”

“Chief Editor L/N!” One of your employees greets you, making the others aware of your presence. You are distracted by the conversation on your phone and briefly greet the employees before finishing the phone call.

Wonwoo is already waiting at the table that the staff set up, but his eyes dart up as he looks for you. He knew you worked at Vogue, but Vogue is a huge company. He never expected that he’d run into you like this, nearly a year after you dumped him.

You sit behind the camera wordlessly, pulling your laptop out of your work bag. Straightening your posture on the chair, you double check that the camera is recording. “Seventeen’s Wonwoo, thank you for joining us today.”

He’s thrown off by your extremely professional behavior. Nobody knew about your past relationship besides Seventeen, but you were treating him like a complete stranger. His initial shock dies down, but it's clear on his face that he’s experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions from your presence.

His words spill out thoughtlessly, “So, you’ve been promoted to Chief Editor?”

You exchange glances with the staff around you, all looking back at you with quizzical expressions. Double-checking the flashing red dot on the camera, you reply curtly. “Yes, I’ve been Chief Editor for about seven months. Usually the managing editor conducts the interviews, but he had a family emergency today. We’re deeply sorry that we weren’t able to inform you sooner.”

“No need to apologize!” Wonwoo replies, becoming aware of his surroundings once again. Flashing a wide smile to the camera, he turns on his idol persona. Staff around the studio begin gushing about his kind behavior as you look for which fan questions to read.

“Do you have any plans on releasing any more videos or photos for Carats?”

“I plan to hold a traveling exhibition of my photography early next year! I can’t give too much away right now, but Carats will definitely love it.”

A smile crept onto your face, glad that the ideas he bounced off of you were coming to fruition. “Do the members still ask you to take their pictures a lot?”

He blinks his eyes rapidly, surprised at your memory. “Yes, they do! At this point, DK, The8, and I are practically the assigned Instagram photographers in the group.”

You nod, and prepare yourself to read the next comment. “Ballad lover, Jeon Wonwoo! I love your music taste so much! What song have you been hooked on lately?”

“I’ve mentioned IU a lot in the past since her music means a lot to me. Luckily, Carats really enjoyed my cover of her song Knees. These days, I’ve been listening to The Visitor by her. The melody is very catchy and the instrumental is stripped back which adds a special layer of sentimentality to the track. I especially love the lyrics for the hook. ‘Why do I still love you? Why do I sing about you? Why do I still wait for you? Babe I love you.’” He responds, purposefully looking away from the camera and instead having his eyes fixate on you.

His longing gaze goes unnoticed by you as you type a note to the video editor to add IU’s in song during post production. “Wonwoo, I’m addicted to books like you! Which books are the most newly purchased in your library?”

“Book Park Lounge had a sale a week ago! I bought about eight new books? Greek Lessons by the author Han Kang has been insanely interesting so far. Although the novel came out in April, it was sold out in all of the bookstores around me immediately. Please, check it out if you enjoy books about the beauty of humanity. My rambling isn’t doing the book justice, just know that once you pick the book up, you won’t be able to put it down.”

You memorize the book’s title, secretly missing the reading lists he would make you. “Any recent activities you did with the members that you can share?”

Wonwoo takes a second to think, lightly tapping his fingers on the table’s surface. “Me and Minghao went to a tea tasting and blending workshop. I’ve recently been more interested in tea, so he suggested that I tag along with him. It was a really rewarding time, I got exposure to a lot of new flavors!”

“Since you made your own tea blend, do you have any tips for people that follow your steps and try making their own blends?”

“Great question!” He compliments, turning silent as he thinks of the best universally liked ingredient. “Dried rose petals are my recommendation. They are easy to add to any tea blend in my opinion, plus, the quantity that you add can customize how much you want the flavor to stand out. Minghao would probably recommend others’ first experience with tea to be a tea ceremony instead. I’ve done both and the ceremonies tend to focus on patience and maintaining steady hands.”

Hesitating to move on to the next question, you review your coworker’s email with the prewritten questions. “Do we have to ask every question here?”

Wonwoo tilts his head in confusion, “Why not?”

“Very well. Wonwoo, have you ever regretted letting go of something or someone?”

“Yes.” His immediate reply causes his manager to approach you and ask for it to be edited out. Wonwoo sees the interaction and tries his best to fix his mistake. “Actually, no… Well, maybe? At the time, I found myself asking a lot, what does my heart actually want? It’s strange, isn’t it? I mean how humans don’t understand their hearts at times. But by the time I realized what I wanted, it was far too late. So yes, I’m full of regret.”

You look back at his manager, whose mouth is slightly agape over Wonwoo’s candid answer. Picking up on the manager’s flustered state, you skip to the last question. “What are your plans for the rest of the year?”

He tries his best to sound energetic again, “Well, Seventeen always tries to be as active as we can! Although a little less than half of the year is left, we will meet you very soon with new music and performances!”

“Can you do the outro?”

“See you all next time! Subscribe, like, and comment to Vogue’s YouTube channel!” Wonwoo waves goodbye with both hands and you stand up to turn off the camera.

He walks over to you as he stretches his arms. “Can we think about us again?”

You continue fidgeting with the camera and say in a low voice, “Wonwoo. Stop saying, let’s think about it again. You know better than anyone that we probably wouldn't last a day.”

“But, Y/N, life without you isn’t the same…” His eyes turn desperate. More eyes are on the two of you, unaware that you were so deeply acquainted with one another.

“Follow me.” You excuse yourself from the studio with Wonwoo listening to your words.

He has a hopeful glint to his eyes now, biting down on his lip to contain his excitement. He’s at a complete loss of how to predict what you’re going to say.

You’re shaking from the anger of his unprofessionalism. Wonwoo realizes your emotions and his face turns solemn.

“What is with you today, Wonwoo? It’s obvious we’ll hurt each other again, so stop saying you can’t live without me. Please, just meet someone who will love you more than I did.”

He looks down at his feet and mumbles, “You act like that is an easy task, Y/N.”

“Wonwoo, I’m with someone else now. You’re the one that wanted us to date quietly and we broke up just as quietly. Now, let go of me quietly.” You request, not once faltering in front of him.

Without giving him time to respond, you walk back towards the studio’s doors and hold one open for him. His feet move without him thinking, trudging back into the studio.

His manager is talking to the photographer about which photos should be excluded from the final cut. Once he notices Wonwoo's return, he finishes the conversation effortlessly.

“Ready for some sushi?”

Wonwoo takes one last look in your direction and sees you engrossed in your work as employees crowd you. Yes, he misses you more than anything. But no, he knows that you don’t feel the same. So maybe, it’s time for him to follow your wishes and let go of you.

He clears his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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