#day6 imagines

[hyucksos]

1 to 10 — kang younghyun

pairing: kang younghyun x f!reader genre: arranged marriage, (one-sided) enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, romance wc: 12.6k synopsis: marriage was never part of your plan— especially not to brian kang, a man as composed and unreadable as he is infuriating. used to calling the shots in your own life, you struggle to adapt to sharing a home, a name, and a future with someone the complete opposite of you. but as bickering turns into something dangerously close to understanding, you realise there’s one thing you hadn’t accounted for in this arrangement: falling for the husband you never wanted in the first place.

You should have known your parents had an agenda the day you were introduced to Kang Younghyun and his family.

You had brushed it off as just that; exchanging pleasantries at galas were second nature to you, and just like the countless other families you had been introduced to that evening, you knew that the Kangs would be nothing more than another name in a long, forgettable list.

Even when you were handed his card, the words Brian Kang, Vice-Chairman embossed on matte cardstock, you had thought nothing of it, the small, unassuming rectangle quickly making home in your purse where you would eventually forget about it for months.

And forget about it, you do, until tonight, almost a year after you first met Younghyun— or rather, Brian. You weren’t sure how to address him seeing as you never really had an actual reason to do so, so you settle for a tight-lipped smile as both his and your parents engage in conversation. You get a polite, dimpled one in return.

It is only when both of your families are settled in your seats, waiting for your first course to be served do you hear his voice for the first time that night. It’s the same as you last remember it— soft, gentle, and far too measured, as if every word is carefully curated to be agreeable.

And that’s when you remember why you hate Brian Kang.

Because no one is ever truly that nice— especially not people like you. The wealthy don’t do kindness without motive, and people only often act that way when they want something— your approval, a favour, or, God forbid, your hand in marriage.

And just as you take a sip of your wine, your mother clears her throat.

“It’s a wonder how Younghyun is stil single at his age, isn’t it?”

The comment is offhanded, but it still sends a wave of uneasiness down your spine. You know how your mother is— she’s the reason why you’re so wary of people like Brian to begin with. Because everything you assume about him? She’s already proven herself true.

Mr. Kang hums in agreement. “A man like him— steady, responsible. Any girl would be lucky to have him.”

The old man glances at you as he utters the last few words, and your grip tightens around your glass. Whatever it is that’s about to come next, you know you’re not going to like it.

“That’s why we’ve been thinking…” Now, it’s your father’s turn to speak. “It’s time you start considering a more suitable future for yourself. We’ve talked it over, and we believe Younghyun is the right match for you.”

A beat of silence passes by, as though everybody is waiting for you to react first. You even feel Brian’s steady gaze on you, and that’s when you realise— he knew. That asshole knew.

You don’t stop the chuckle that escapes your lips before it escalates into full-blown laughter, and if not for the tears in your eyes, you would’ve caught the awkward glances being exchanged across the table.

“Honey-“

“You-“ your voice comes off as hoarse. “You want me to marry him?”

“It’s a good match.” Your mother takes a bite of her steak, completely unfazed and completely dismissive of your slow descend into insanity.

“For who? For me? Or for your business connections?” You snap.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” your father cuts in, unimpressed.

You scoff, turning to him. “I’m dramatic? You’re literally selling me off in the middle of dinner and I’m dramatic?”

Your mother sighs, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a linen napkin. “Sweetheart, let’s be honest. You were never going to make a sensible choice on your own. We’re doing you a favour.”

Your stomach twists. You know what she’s hinting at. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wasting your time on a boy who barely has enough to pay for his own dinner, let alone yours. How do you expect us to trust your judgement?”

Of course. Of course, they’d bring up Wooshik. Your parents never took a liking to your boyfriend since you introduced him to them two years ago, and while that was an issue you’ve been putting off for a while now, always convincing yourself you’d cross that bridge when you got to it, you just never expected for it to catch up to you so soon.

Then again, you should have known. Your parents always play the long game.

You shake your head, your chair screeching against the marble tiles as you stand up. “You know what? I’m done.” You spare Brian a glare as you do so, the man infuriatingly calm as he watches the entire ordeal unfold ike he’s in a board meeting.

Oh, you hate him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Your father calls out to you, his voice sharp.

You don’t bother to reply as your storm out of the dining hall, hailing down the first cab you see the moment you exit the country club. There’s only one person you want to see right now, one person who could make sense of this insanity. The one person who, despite what your parents think, chose you for you.

You arrive at Wooshik’s apartment in twelve minutes, your knuckles rapping loudly on his door. In hindsight, you should have given him a call first, knowing that he’s probably already asleep at this time, but in your frazzled state it seems that all sense has left you completely.

The door finally swings open after what feels like forever, but you’re met with someone who isn’t your boyfriend.

“Yes?” The girl greets you with an unimpressed stare. For a moment, you think you’re at the wrong apartment, until your gaze flickers to the number plate above the doorbell. Not that you even needed to; you’ve been here probably a thousand times. There’s no way you’d mistake your own boyfriend’s place, no matter how distressed.

And for the second time that night, your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, only for it to shred itself into little pieces when Wooshik appears, shirtless, eyes widening when they land on you.

“Baby-“

“Who is this?” You ask lowly, shakily, because even despite everything, you still have an inkling of hope that maybe, this is all just a huge misunderstanding. There’s no way that Kim Wooshik, your boyfriend of four whole years, would cheat on you, right?

But he only stays silent, and that was all you needed to hear.

Your heart pounds in your ribs, each beat louder than the last, but Wooshik still says nothing. He doesn’t deny it, doesn’t push past the girl in his doorway to get to you. He just… stands there.

And that’s when you realise— he’s not speechless because he’s guilty. He’s speechless because he doesn’t care.

“Oh, wow,” the girl hums, arms crossing over her chest as her eyes twinkles in amusement. “Took you this long to figure it out, huh?”

You turn to her slowly, fists clenched at your sides. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, c’mon,” she pauses to laugh, gesturing lazily to your boyfriend— if you could even call him that. “Look at him! What other reason could there be for someone like him to go for someone like you?” 

When you don’t answer, she raises her hands, rubbing her middle finger against her thumb. As though you needed a reminder— tonight, of all nights— the only thing people truly cared about.

Money.

And it was a good thing you had loads of those too, because being broke sure as hell wouldn’t be able to get you out of what you did next.

You punched her.

You don’t register it until it happens, the loud crack that echoes in the hallway— your knuckles, her nose, you’re not entirely sure which. One thing for sure, you’re seeing red.

She stumbles back with a shriek, but you’re already turning to Wooshik.

“You bastard.”

Your fist collides with his jaw before he could even stammer out an excuse, and his back hits the door behind him upon impact.

“Are you insane?!” He yells, cupping his bruising cheek as he pants.

Maybe. But right now, you don’t care. Even when you feel the stinging of your scalp as the girl fists your hair and yanks you backwards, you recover fast, and you think it’s the pent-up rage from before that spurs you to continue, disregarding your broken nails as you claw blindly and ignoring the contents of your clutch spilling onto the floor as you use it as a makeshift weapon.

“Stop! Stop it- people are looking!“ Wooshik hisses as he grabs you from behind, pulling you away from his mistress. You yank yourself free, whipping your neck to look at him.

“Oh, now you want to care what people think?” You laugh sharply, ignoring the curious eyes of his neighbours as they watch through the cracks of their half-open doors.

Before he could reply, you’re interrupted by the sound of sirens.

Loud. Distinct. And definitely getting closer.

And as the red and blue lights spill through the corridors, it finally registers.

You’re screwed.

The police station is desolate at this time of night, and if it weren’t for the position you were in, you could even say that it’s peaceful.

You’re seated across an officer— Officer Jung, as the placard on his table suggests— who’s flipping through his notes.

“So, wanna tell us what happened?”

You don’t answer, exhaling sharply through your nose— this wasn’t how you imagined your night to end.

“Seeing as there are no serious injuries, we could let you off with a warning and fine. But, if Mr. Kim and Ms. Shin decide to press charges, well, you might have to deal with a court date at a later time. If you tell us what happened, we could help you— make things easier, at least.”

You scoff humourlessly as you keep your gaze on your lap— your bloodied fingers fiddling with your clutch you miraculously still have with you. It’s bent out of shape and not even able to lock properly anymore, leaving you to notice that some of your items are probably still left on the floor outside Wooshik’s apartment.

And then, you notice it— a familiar sleek, black card, hidden away in a tiny pocket on the wall of your purse.

You haven’t used this bag in a while— it’s been almost a year, you believe, but you instantly know to whom that card belongs.

You look at Officer Jung. “I want to make a phone call.”

He looks taken aback at your sudden request, but quickly recovers. “You’ll get your phone call, but talking now could make things easier for you, if you’d just cooperate, Miss.”

You don’t reply, and the officer sighs.

“Fine. One call.”

He pushes the telephone on his table towards you, and you pick up the receiver while you take out the namecard with your other hand. The phone rings thrice before he picks up.

“Brian Kang speaking.”

“I need you to come pick me up.”

A pause.

“Where are you?”

“Gangnam Police Station.”

Thirty minutes later, you hear his voice again, this time in person. Brian is speaking to the officer at the front desk before he’s handed something to sign, and soon he’s directed to where you’re seated at the waiting area.

You turn away, suddenly feeling conscious of your appearance. You’re sure your mascara is smudged and your hair is a hot mess, and while you really couldn’t care less of what anybody thinks of you— much less Brian— you figure there’s only so much humiliation you could take in one night.

“Ready to go?”

You peer at him through your eyelashes, the man only looking back at you patiently like you’re not at a police station and he isn’t here to bail you out. Brian Kang, with his hair styled to perfection and his black tie still in a neat Windsor knot despite it being close to midnight. The only indication that he’s even been through a day is his blazer being unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but even then, he still manages to look presentable.

Oh, how infuriating. You hate him.

You don’t say anything, standing up and smoothing out your dress in the process. Not like it did much, whatsoever.

“Oh, wow. And who’s this?” A voice sounds from the other side of the room, and you turn to see that it’s Wooshik, a lazy smirk on his lips despite the bruise blooming on his jaw. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s been unfaithful, huh?”

Your blood boils. “You-“

You want to lunge towards him, but a firm grip around your wrist yanks you backwards, and you feel Brian’s chest against your back as he holds you firmly.

“No.” His voice is calm but absolute, his grip tightening when you struggle. “Not here.”

“Let me go,” you seethe, but Brian doesn’t budge.

“And what?” He answers smoothly, tilting his head towards the officers who are watching you intently. “Get yourself in more trouble?”

Wooshik snickers. “You hear that, babe? Keep proving to everyone what a slu-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Brian cuts in, his tone so sharp that Wooshik actually shuts up.

You take the opportunity to yank yourself free, and giving Wooshik one final glare, you march out of the station.

Brian is close behind you, as you could tell from the sound of his footsteps, and when you stop, he stands right beside you.

“Brian,” you utter without looking at him, keeping your gaze trained on the almost-empty parking lots in front of you. Your fist your hands tightly, unsure if the pain you feel is from your injuries or from the utter betrayal you’ve received from everyone tonight. “Let’s get married.”

He chuckles softly. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”

You clench your jaw as you turn to him, just in time for him to meet your gaze. There’s a twinkle of something in his eyes— mirth. Amusement. Almost as if he’s teasing you, and you hate that.

“You don’t think I’m serious?”

“I think you’re angry,” he corrects, now turning to face you fully. He places his hands in his pockets, casually, like you’re not on the brink of lashing out and him not on the receiving end. “And people say all sorts of things when they’re angry.”

You can’t help but to let out a humourless scoff at his tone. You’d think that he’d drop his fake-nice act now that it’s just the two of you, but if anything, it’s even more infuriating. Who the hell does he think he is, talking to you like you’re a child— like he’s trying to gentle parent you, at that? Even your own parents don’t do that!

“I don’t like you,” you say bluntly, earning a raised brow from Brian. “But right now, I think I hate my life even more. So, really— marrying you doesn’t even sound like the worst idea.”

Brian exhales a quiet laugh as he shakes his head. “You’re doing this out of spite.”

You jut your chin towards him. “Oh, what, so now you’re a mind reader?”

“No,” he quips as he lowers his head to meet your eye level, and his lips stretch out into a wide grin. “I just know you’d rather set yourself on fire than to admit defeat and let your parents say ‘I told you so’.”

You grit your teeth. “Go to hell.”

He chuckles. “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick around for a while.” Brian straightens up, finally giving you space to breathe as he adjusts his cuffs, acting like he’s having the most normal conversation in the world. “So, rings?”

You frown. “What?”

“For the wedding?” He adds, tilting his head. “Unless you’d rather wing it and let your mum pick them out?”

You roll your eyes wordlessly before shoving past him, the sound of his mocking laughter trailing behind you. You don’t even know where his car is, but you keep walking anyway, desperate to put some distance between you and that insufferable smirk.

Just what the hell did you get yourself into?

Your wedding with Brian was nothing short of excessive extravagance, as is the rock that now sits on your finger. As stunning as it is, a three-carat diamond ring with a pear cut and matching silver band that fits perfectly, it’s a reminder of your legal bind to the man, whom, even over the last couple of months, you found yourself to still despise.

It isn’t easy to live with someone like Brian when he’s the direct opposite of you. Precise, methodical, and annoyingly put-together— that’s him, and he’s everything you’re not. While you struggled to remember in which box you packed your toiletries prior to the move, he was already done with colour-coding his sock drawer. As you were cursing yourself for dropping one of your favourite scented candles, he was quick to appear beside you with a broom and dustpan, and by the time you were done being dramatic, there were no more glass shards for you to accidentally step on.

The only upside that came with your marriage was the fact that you’d never have to deal with your parents’ suffocating expectations again, even if it meant having to coexist with Brian and all his… Brian-ness.

There were no I-told-you-sos, (because you never bothered to disclose the ending of your relationship with your ex-boyfriend), no condescending lectures, just quiet, satisfied approval, because you had done exactly what they wanted— married a man they approved of, and moved into a life that was deemed respectable. In return, that got you out of a house you never really got to call home to begin with, and for a while, that was enough, until you realised that sharing a roof with Brian came with its own set of problems— like the way he insists on organising the kitchen cabinets like it’s a damn grocery aisle.

“That doesn’t go there.”

You glance over your shoulder to see Brian leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed as he watches you place a mug in the cabinet.

You arch a brow. “It’s a cabinet. For mugs. Where else should it go?”

He exhales before nodding to somewhere beside you. “Top shelf. Left side. Next to the tall glasses.”

You scoff, turning to face him fully with the mug still in your hand. “Seriously, Brian, do you hear yourself when you speak? It’s a cup. A cup. Who cares where it goes? Are you running a five-star restaurant in here? Are the housekeepers going to judge my mug placement skills? Does the fate of the world depend on whether or not my mug sits next to your stupid tall glasses-“

In the midst of your rant, you don’t even even notice him stepping forward, plucking the mug out of your hands before placing it exactly where he wants it without so much as a word.

“There. Problem solved.” He dusts off his hands before looking down at you. “Also, it’s Younghyun. I told you, Brian is for business. I’m your husband.”

“And our marriage is purely transactional. I’ll call you whatever I want,” you bite back.

“Hm, fair. Should I start calling you sweetheart, then?”

You know he’s trying to rile you up on purpose, and oh, boy, is it working.

You glower. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He merely smiles— that infuriating, knowing smile— and you know he’s noticed the way your cheeks burn in anger. But, being the asshole that he is, he chooses not to say anything.

And somehow, that only makes it worse.

“Sweetheart, could you pass me the salt?”

Your fingers stiffen around your utensils as you slowly turn to him with a glare, Brian not even looking at you as he continues to cut his steak, like nothing ever happened. Like that damn word didn’t just escape his lips; like he’s been saying it for years instead of just now, in front of both of your families.

He only looks up when he realises your silence, and even has the audacity to raise his brows as though to ask: what’s wrong?

You grit your teeth.

“Oh, I absolutely adore what you’ve done with the house! You know, with a space this big, there’s only one way to truly make it feel like home.” Brian’s grandmother beams from across the table.

You don’t like where this is going, but Brian, the ever-perfect grandson, humours her. “And what would that be, Grandma?”

Grandma Kang claps her hands, grinning in a way that reminds you of Brian when he’s teasing you. Now you know where he got it from.

“Filling it with little feet, of course! A house this grand shouldn’t be put to waste— imagine how wonderful it would be to hear children running through these halls.”

Even though you saw it coming, you still find yourself choking on your food as her words hit you before you could process it.

You grasp for your water, but before you could, Brian beats you to it as he slides his own glass towards you, his fingers brushing yours as he does so.

“Careful, darling,” he says, his hand coming up to pat your back. You barely get to register the warmth in both his touch and his voice before it leaves you completely, and he’s back to sipping on his wine by the time you turn to him.

Like nothing ever happened.

“We’re still young, Grandma.” Brian returns to the conversation with an easy smile. “What’s the rush?”

“Yes, but I’m not getting any younger, son,” Grandma Kang hums disapprovingly. “I do want to see at least one of my great-grandchildren before I die. You two haven’t even gone on a honeymoon yet! That won’t do— newlyweds should take time to celebrate.”

“Don’t say that,” Brian chides gently. “You’ll be around to spoil a whole football team’s worth of great-grandkids.”

You kick his shin from under the table, to which Brian doesn’t react— of course he doesn’t.

“I hope you don’t feel like I’m pressuring you, dear.” She turns to you. “It’s just that, I want to see the both of you happy and settled while I can.”

You settle with an awkward smile, though you’re sure it comes off as more of a grimace.

Out of everybody in this room, the old lady seems to be the only one who doesn’t make you feel like you’re under a microscope. She’s warm, affectionate, and genuinely delighted to have you in the family, which is why you can’t find it in you to tell her the truth— that you’re not in love with her grandson, and you don’t think you ever will be.

“But, speaking of honeymoons.” Brian swallows his food. “I do have a work trip coming up. Maybe we could make something out of it. What do you think, love?” He turns to you with a boyish grin, and you swear, if you hear another one of his stupid nicknames leave his mouth, you might just combust.

In anger, of course.

You frown. “A work trip is not a honeymoon.”

“It is if we say it is.” He shrugs, nonchalant. “Especially if it’s in the city of love.”

“Ooh, Paris!” This time, your mother gushes. With the way both Brian’s parents and yours have been quiet throughout the entire duration of dinner, you’d almost forgotten that they were there to begin with. Of course, your mother wouldn’t be your mother if she has to stay silent for very long, and the moment her sharp eyes meet yours, you know that the decision is already made for you.

You’re going to Paris.

You haven’t had a good sleep in days.

With the new project at work and your trip coming up, your schedule is packed, and with the endless emails and phone calls that don’t seem to stop, you’re not given the time to breathe, let alone rest.

It’s nearing midnight, and you find yourself still in the living room, the chandelier dimmed and your only source of light as it accompanies you while you finish up your report. You’ve been at it for hours, and your eyes are starting to blur from the screen, but you force yourself to push through.

You barely even hear the sound of footsteps until Brian stops next to the television, leaning against the wall as he watches you.

“You’re still working?” He asks, his tone quiet and laced with something you can’t really put a finger on. A part of you has a hunch, but you don’t want to acknowledge it.

“Yeah. I just gotta finish this before we leave. I’ll be fine,” you mutter distractedly, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

Brian doesn’t say anything as he continues to watch you, and you continue typing, hoping he gets the hint and leaves you alone.

“You need to take a break,” he finally says, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“What I need is to finish this report, Brian.” You finally look up to give him a glare, and you’re surprised to see that for once, he’s being serious, devoid of the usual teasing shit-eating grin he always wears. Still, you don’t waver. “You’re not exactly helping by being here.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. You need a break,” he repeats, his tone more firm this time. Still, there’s no real anger in it, only concern, and that’s the one thing you’ve been trying not to acknowledge. Your chest starts to twist uncomfortably, unfamiliar with this side of him.

You roll your eyes wordlessly, knowing starting an argument with him would only take up your time, and that’s the one thing you don’t have enough of right now.

You hear Brian sigh before he steps towards you, gently taking the laptop off your lap before placing it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Seriously-“ you scoff before getting to your feet, heart thumping erratically as your frustration finally bubbles over. “What’s it to you? Why do you keep acting like I’m helpless?” You snap. “I can handle this! I don’t need you to tell me what to do every five minutes!”

Brian doesn’t flinch. “I’m not telling you what to do, I’m telling you what’s good for you. And what’s good for you right now is to take a damn break.” Despite the tick of his jaw, his voice is calm, too calm. “You’re not fine,” he continues, a quiet challenge in his voice. “And you don’t have to pretend with me.”

That is what makes you crack.

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the exhaustion, mixed with anger— hell, it’s probably all the emotions you’ve been suppressing since you got cheated on and then getting married the following month— because the next thing you know, you’re crying uncontrollably with no signs of stopping.

You drop to the sofa, burying your face in your hands as you sob, your shoulders trembling with the weight of it all. You don’t even want to look at Brian; the last thing you need is his sympathy.

“Just go,” you croak, voice muffled behind your hands. “I’m fine. I’m just tired, okay?”

Brian doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, you think he actually left, until you feel him kneel down in front of you, gently prying your hands off your face.

For some reason, you let him.

He brings his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks gently as he wipes your tears. You shake your head to get him to stop, embarrassed, but he doesn’t move away, only holding you firmer.

“You’re not fine,” he murmurs, his voice a lot quieter now, but his tone is one you haven’t heard before. Soft. Almost tender. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to do this alone. Not as long as I’m here.”

His words catch you off-guard. You hadn’t realised just how much you needed to hear that, too used to carrying everything yourself, always being the strong one, so hearing Brian say that feels like a lifeline.

The fact that he’s actually there, not telling you to fix it or get over it, but simply… acknowledging it, makes everything feel a little less impossible, especially after he says:

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You sniff before looking away. “You’re so annoying,” you mumble, taking his hands to remove them from your face, but you don’t let go as you let them rest on your lap.

Neither does he.

“You bring this up tomorrow, and I’ll kill you.”

Brian laughs, his eyes crinkling as he does so, and somehow, the sight doesn’t annoy you as much as you know it should.

“You’re joking,” you deadpan, fingers resting loosely on your luggage handle as you stare at the room before you. You turn to Brian. “One bed? Why the hell would you book a suite with a single bed?!”

“Grandma wanted to gift us. I couldn’t say no,” he utters with absolute indifference, like you’re both not standing before a king size bed with flower petals scattered all over it in the shape of a giant heart. The sight makes you shudder.

“It’s fine. I’ll just take the couch.”

“You better,” you murmur, too tired to deal with his nonchalance today. You had just gotten out of a fifteen hour flight— like that wasn’t already terrible enough. The fact that it was Brian Kang that you flew with made it all the more agonising.

He was the type of person who insisted on arriving at the airport way before necessary— which, in your case, meant that the three hours you thought you had to pack your luggage were cramped into a single, stress-filled one.

It didn’t help that Brian had a lot to say about your lack of preparation, chastising you for not packing earlier, which of course, then naturally spiralled into an argument that lasted twenty minutes (though, it was more of you yelling while he remained infuriatingly composed).

By the time you were good to go, you’re exhausted, out of breath, and completely over it. Meanwhile, Brian loaded both your luggages into the car with effortless ease like it was nothing.

Like the responsible adult he was, he had checked in for the both of you on time, and even went as far as to listen to the safety instructions in the plane intently like he was in a lecture. At that point, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he were to whip out a notepad and pen to jot down notes.

He was completely insufferable.

And now that you’re finally in Paris, some distance from Brian would do you good, you think— except, of course, he has plans.

While all you want is to sink into the ridiculously plush hotel bed and knock out for a few hours, Brian is already chattering on about his itinerary like he’s pitching a business proposal. Truthfully, you could barely even make out the places he’s listing with how lethargic you are, and he only stops when he realises you’re being weirdly unresponsive.

You’re fast asleep.

Younghyun scoffs to himself as he stares at the slow rise and fall of your back, your body curled up under the covers as you snore softly. Usually, he’d have something to say about how you shouldn’t be lying on the bed without changing out of your outside clothes first, about how you never listen to him when he tells you to get enough rest, maybe even tease you about how you always insist you won’t fall asleep right away, only for you to be knocked out cold the moment your head hits the pillow.

But for once, he lets it go.

Because despite how much you get on his nerves, and no matter how stubborn you are, he knows you’re exhausted. And maybe, he doesn’t mind giving in to you this time.

With a soft sigh, he gets up from the sofa and grabs his coat, making sure not to wake you up as he closes the door behind him softly. If you won’t take care of yourself, then he’d just have to do it for you. And if you’re too stubborn to go out to eat— well, maybe bringing something back would make it easier.

✦ ✦ ✦

By the time you stir awake, it’s dark, and you realise that you’re alone. You wonder if Brian actually did up and leave to go on that walk along the Seine he had been talking about earlier, and for a split second, you feel guilty. You quickly snap out of it, jolting up in the process.

“Am I going insane?” You laugh humourlessly to yourself, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Why the hell should I feel bad for him? He’s not my responsibility. He’s a grown man!” You try to justify, but deep down, there’s a feeling you can’t shake.

You didn’t even ask if he was okay, if he needed help, if he needed something. Nothing.

You groan fall back into the pillows, kicking your feet against the covers in frustration. Your hands find your head once again, and you tug on your hair. “Get out of my head, Brian Kang.”

“Why? Miss me already?”

You sit up again, this time twice as fast and almost falling off the bed in the process.

“I-I wasn’t talking about you,” you manage to sneer, to which Brian chuckles in response as he kicks off his shoes.

“Sure. Come eat.”

You frown, only now noticing the takeout bags he has in his hands before he places them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. As embarrassed as you are, you can’t deny that you’re hungry, so begrudgingly, you pad towards him.

You wait for Brian to shrug off his coat, his coat which you’re now noticing is damp and covered in little droplets. You didn’t even realise that it had been raining, and the same unfamiliar feeling tugs on your heart strings again.

“Really? You couldn’t just wait until the rain stopped?” You mumble, keeping your tone as casual as possible as you start unwrapping your food.

Brian shrugs. “It was just a little rain.”

“Yeah, well, don’t complain if you fall sick tonight and end up having to skip on your meeting tomorrow. I’m not gonna be the one staying awake to take care of you.”

Brian peers at you through his lashes with a knowing smile on his lips, and it only makes you realise how you may have sounded a little too concerned for your liking.

“I-I’m not worried about you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, turning back to your food. You’re not sure if you can continue staring at him without turning yourself into a blubbering fool even more.

Brian laughs, but he doesn’t push it. “Speaking of tomorrow, do you have anywhere you want to visit? We can go after I’m done with work,” he answers breezily, placing a peeled shrimp in your container before resuming with his meal.

You, on the other hand, are frozen in your spot, still trying to process his gesture. You stare at the shrimp in confusion before glancing at him again, but Brian doesn’t even acknowledge you.

“Didn’t you already have a whole itinerary planned?” You ask when you finally find your voice.

“Yes, but seeing as we’re on a honeymoon, we should do things we both like, no?”

“This is not a honeymoon, Brian. Call it what it is, a work trip.”

“Younghyun.” His voice softens in a way that makes your heart tighten. “I know you’ve been working a lot lately, so this is your chance to enjoy Paris. We’ll make the most of it together.”

You want to argue, but somehow the words never come.You know what it is, and you’re finally ready to acknowledge it— the small pang of guilt that creeps into your chest.

“It’s fine,” you say with a sigh. “I don’t really have anything I want to do anyway.” You shrug as nonchalantly as you could, despite knowing that it’s a lie.

Of course, there are things you want to do while you’re here— things that you know Brian wouldn’t necessarily enjoy, and things that certainly wouldn’t fit in his structured itinerary. But you can’t find it in you to say anything, not after everything he’s done.

As much as you hate to admit it, and despite how infuriating and annoying you still think he is, he’s the only one who’s been doing everything while you’ve barely even contributed to the trip. Your mind goes back to his coat again, his stupid, damp coat, and the thought of him being caught in the rain all to get you some food just because you refused to go out today leaves an uncomfortable weight in the pit of your stomach.

So, you don’t say anything— for once, you’ll give in and agree to go along with his plans, even if it means having to drag your feet to the places you know won’t excite you.

Because the last thing you want to do is disappoint him.

✦ ✦ ✦

Brian is already asleep when you step out of the shower, the three-seater sofa only barely accommodating to his tall form. His legs are bent in a way that doesn’t look very comfortable, and he has his arm draped over his eyes to block out the street lights from the window next to him.

There it is again— the dreadful feeling of guilt that twists and turns in your stomach. It doesn’t help that the rain has gotten heavier now, the occasional sound of thunder a reminder that you won’t be getting a peaceful sleep tonight.

With a sigh, you trudge towards the bed, making sure to face the wall and not Brian as you get under the covers. Try as you might, sleep doesn’t come to you very easily, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’ve already had a nap earlier, the relentless rain outside, or purely the guilt from making Brian sleep on the couch. Maybe it’s all three.

You turn on your back, eyes wide open as you stare blankly at the ceiling.

“Are you asleep?” The question escapes you before you could stop it, and you cringe at how loud your voice sounded in the otherwise quiet room.

Surprisingly, Brian hums in reply, but he remains unmoving when you glance at him.

Before you could change your mind, you remove the extra pillow from behind your head, placing it to your right before you quickly turn back on your side.

“Just come here. But any funny business and you’re dead.”

It’s silent for a while, and you think that maybe Brian had gone back to sleep or is simply just ignoring you, until you feel the bed dip.

He exhales a small chuckle as he settles beside you, and even despite the grogginess in his voice, it’s laced with amusement.

“You say that like I’d even dare.”

It’s teasing, but he doesn’t push his luck. Instead, he shifts— just enough to get comfortable, but careful not to press too close. With the pillow now in between the both of you, it’s not like he could, anyway.

A beat passes before he adds, softer this time. “Go to sleep.”

You shut your eyes, opting not to reply him. While that had managed to clear up a little bit of your conscience, there’s still one issue you’re left with: the thunder.

It’s not like you’re necessarily scared of them. They just make you a little jumpy, is all.

Even now, when it booms and splits the dark in a second-long white glow, you yelp, only to bite your tongue right after and hoping Brian hadn’t heard you.

Silence stretches between you, until you feel him reach over to remove the pillow in the middle before it lands on the floor with a thud. You finally turn to peek over your shoulder, ready to ask him what the hell he’s doing.

But of course, Brian doesn’t say anything, eyes still shut like he’s already asleep. In the empty space between the two of you now lies his arm, outstretched, waiting, like a quiet invitation.

Just as you’re about to chide at him, another strike of thunder crashes through the sky, louder this time. So of course, naturally, you jolt.

Forward.

Right into him.

You gasp. “Bri-“

He shushes you. This asshole has the audacity to shush you as he wraps his other arm around your torso, pulling you impossibly closer.

He exhales, his voice low and laced with sleep. “You’re so jumpy.”

Your words get caught in your throat, so for a while, you don’t say anything. You can’t. 

“Am not,” you huff, though it doesn’t really come out as convincing given you’re practically curled against his chest.

He hums, and you know he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t argue. And when thunder strikes for the third time, you feel his arms tighten around you in silent consolation.

You shut your eyes tightly, though this time, it’s not out of fear anymore. No, right now, you’re trying to ignore his warmth that’s already seeping into yours, and the way his featherlight touches are making your throat go drier than a desert.

You think you might need a glass of water, but you don’t exactly want to leave your spot right now.

“One word about this, Brian, and I-“

“You’ll kill me. I know,” he chuckles, the vibration of his chest against yours making you all too aware of how close you are.

You scowl, though it lacks any real bite. Smug bastard.

Still, you don’t move away.

And neither does he.

You wake up to an empty bed.

As you sit up to rub the sleep from your eyes, you almost forget where you are, still disoriented by the warmth lingering on the sheets beside you.

But then you hear the faint rustling from the other side of the room, and that’s when you see Brian by the vanity, currently buttoning up his white dress shirt with his tie still undone and slung over his neck.

Your eyes widen, and you find yourself falling back to the mattress as you stare at the ceiling, breaths slightly laboured.

What the hell is going on? Why is your heart beating so fast? Are you having a heart attack?

You squeeze your eyes shut, even going as far as to press your palms against your cheeks as though doing that would magically erase the memory from your mind.

Nope. Didn’t work. You did not just get flustered over Brian Kang of all people.

No matter how much you try to will it away, the image is already burned in your head— the sharp lines of his collarbones, the way his fingers worked the buttons with ease, the single strand of hair that falls in his forehead despite his conscious effort to style it.

“You okay?”

Suddenly, his voice is way too near for comfort, and your eyes fly open to see Brian peering at you over the side of the bed, his brows knit in confusion.

Thankfully, his shirt is buttoned up all the way now, sparing you from details you don’t want to see (rather, details that you know could potentially cause you to short circuit).

You must have taken a while to answer, gaping at him like a deer in headlights, because you only finally snap out of it when you register him reaching out to you.

“I’m fine!” You blurt, your hand extending out just in time to catch his wrist, his palm already dangerously close to your head.

“You sure?” He asks, not the least bit convinced. “You’re all red. Are you down with a fever?”

“No. Are you?”

Brian only arches his brows at your response, and you finally let him go, scooting further to his side of the bed to put some distance between you two, avoiding his gaze.

“Alright…” he scoffs, a tinge of humour laced in his tone. “I’ll be back before lunch to pick you up, okay? We could go sightseeing if you’re up for that.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mumble. You had expected him to leave, but he doesn’t, and you finally turn to him again. “What?”

Brian tilts his head slightly, studying you with the same expression that always gets under your skin. Then, without warning, he leans in— just a little, but enough for your breath to catch in your throat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again, lower this time, like he knows something is definitely up; like he knows exactly the reason behind why your face is burning and he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

You swallow, gripping the sheets. “I said I’m fine.”

Brian studies you for a second more before he hums, finally straightening up. You don’t miss the flicker of amusement in his eyes, and you know he’s not pushing you further solely because he doesn’t want to embarrass you— at least, more than you already did yourself.

“Okay. If you say so.” He grabs his coat, throwing it over his shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll see you later, love.”

And with that, he finally turns to leave, just like nothing ever happened.

You exhale sharply, bringing the covers over your head.

You’re so doomed.

✦ ✦ ✦

Your plans after lunch started at the Louvre. It was where you found out that Brian was someone who enjoyed art and history— because why wouldn’t he, right? You thought the gallery was far too crowded and you didn’t see the point in staring at paint splattered on canvas, but seeing how focused he was on reading every single plaque and description, you decided to just let him be.

He’d talk to you about it, too— feed you with fun facts about the artist or history of the painting which really, you couldn’t care less about, but as you took in the way his features would light up whenever he saw a painting he recognised, or the way his lips would twitch into a satisfied smile whenever he shared about something he found interesting, you found yourself holding back on any complaints.

Instead, you nodded along, when in reality you were much more focused on the enthusiasm in his voice and the way his fox-like eyes would crinkle at the corners when he smiled, making him look impossibly more endearing.

That was a thought you were quick to dispose of, of course, because this is Brian Kang you’re talking about. There was no way you were going to admit to anybody that your heart was starting to beat a little too fast to your liking whenever you were around him.

He took you on a boat cruise on the Seine right after, and you did complain this time, bringing up the movie you saw recently about sharks under Paris and how there was no way in hell you were going to let yourself get eaten by one. You weren’t about to tell him that it was boat rides in general that made you uneasy, but it seemed that Brian knew that already without having to ask. He merely laughed and held your hand, and that kept you quiet for the remainder of the ride.

You reach your final destination just as the sun is about to retire for the day, a quiet spot in Champ de Mars facing the Eiffel Tower. Your legs are hurting from all the walking, and with your last meal being lunch a few hours ago, you’re starving.

It was a good thing Brian had half a mind to stop by a sandwich shop on the way here, because your dinner was devoured within minutes, and you’re now left marvelling over the pretty lights that glimmer on the lattice structure before you.

You had no complaints, and it seems that Brian doesn’t have anything to say as well as he too remains quiet, but what you don’t know is that he’s looking at you.

The golden glow of the Eiffel Tower bounces off your skin, catching in the delicate curves of your face. Younghyun might have spent the day at the Louvre, surrounded by centuries’ worth of masterpieces, but hell if you’re not the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on.

“Sweetheart.” The name gently rolls of his tongue like he’s been saying it for years, and you hum in reply, clearly distracted, until realisation sets in and your brows furrow ever so slightly as you catch your own slip up.

You turn to him with your signature frown, but Younghyun knows it lacks any real bite. “What?”

He exhales a quiet laugh before pursing his lips, inhaling softly. “I wish you would’ve just told me that you weren’t enjoying yourself today.”

Your expression wavers, but only for a second. “What are you talking about?” You mutter before turning away, like you always do when you’re flustered. “That’s not true. I had fun.”

“You get this look on your face when you’re forcing yourself to have fun,” he muses. “Like you’re watching a movie with a bad plot and you don’t want to admit that you didn’t like it.”

You only scoff, further confirming his assumptions.

“You don’t talk back like you always do. You held back on your complaints when usually, you’d jump at the first opportunity to argue with me. Every time I caught you zoning out, you weren’t looking at what I was showing you— you were looking at me.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Of course, he saw right through you.

“Maybe you just had something on your face.” You glance at him.

Brian laughs. “Even you don’t believe that.”

You roll your eyes, but he isn’t done.

“You should have said something,” he continues, softer this time. “I would’ve done anything you wanted, you know?”

“Even if I wanted to go bungee jumping?”

Brian stares at you softly, a hint of a smile on his face. “I’d tie a rope to my ankle and dive a hundred feet headfirst if it makes you happy.”

Something warm stirs in your chest, but you don’t acknowledge it. You don’t want to, because if you do, then you’d have to admit that this tightening feeling in your chest could be something dangerously close to fondness.

That night, you place your pillow next to you before turning on your side, your back to Brian as he finishes up his work on the sofa.

You feel the weight of his stare as he shuts his laptop, and slowly, cautiously, he gets under the covers next to you, almost like he’s testing the waters.

“Are you asleep?” He asks, voice soft.

You don’t answer right away, not wanting to break the fragile moment. “No.”

He waits for a few moments, almost as though expecting you to elaborate, but when you don’t, he asks, “why?”

You stay quiet again, biting your lip, unsure of what to say. You don’t really have an excuse as to why you’re still awake even after the day you’ve just had. It’s not like it’s raining outside, and it’s not like there’s thunder to keep you up.

It’s not like you were waiting for him.

But Brian doesn’t press. He only stays silent for a while longer before exhaling softly, and just like yesterday, he removes the pillow that separates the two of you before shifting closer, his arm finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmurs, like he’s read your mind.

Again, you don’t respond, but you don’t pull away either. You turn in his hold, slipping your arm over his torso just as he pulls you closer, and you try to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that constricts your beating heart.

You should be telling him that it’s wrong, that you don’t need this, but you don’t, letting yourself melt in his embrace instead.

Because for the first time, something about the way he holds you feels right.

Paris was weird, so much so that you were relieved the moment you arrived back in Korea. Even if it meant going back to your routine and getting drowned in backlog at work, it was better than having nothing to do, because having time to yourself meant having time to think about Brian Kang, which you found yourself to do every night before you went to sleep.

At first, you blamed it on the jet lag, but even after a week has passed and you've both well settled back into your usual rhythm which consisted of sleeping in your own separate rooms, you still found yourself thinking about him as you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling. You wondered if Brian thought about Paris just as much as you did, about how safe he made you feel as he wrapped you in his arms, about how the steady beat of his heart, as opposed to your erratic one, had lulled you to sleep even with the raging storm outside. You wondered if he missed your warmth the way you missed his, and how easy it was to fall asleep beside him, like your body has decided for you that his presence was something to seek comfort in.

You wanted to hate it. Because if you didn't, then you'd have to admit that it wasn't just his warmth that you missed— it was him.

And that was something you weren't ready to face, at least not yet.

So instead, you busied yourself with something— anything, to keep your mind off him. And somehow, that brought you here, standing in the kitchen with his grandmother, sleeves rolled up to your elbows and apron tied snugly around your torso as she guided you with a recipe.

You don't even know how you got here. One second, you were staring blankly at your kitchen counter, contemplating on whether to make yourself some instant noodles, and the next you're on the phone with Grandma Kang— and trust that even the mere thought of this is enough to make you cringe— if she could teach you how to make one of his favourite dishes.

You don't know what it is. Was it guilt? Gratitude? Or maybe— no. You weren't going to entertain the thought that it was something more than that. Perhaps, you just wanted to do something nice for him, to repay him for putting up with you, even make him a celebratory meal for successfully closing a deal after his meeting in Paris.

That was all to it.

"So, how was Paris?" Grandma Kang asks as she stirs pot of kimchi stew.

The old lady, bless her, had arrived within minutes from your phone call, eager to spend time with her— and you quote— her favourite granddaughter.

She was the only who ever really checked in on you ever since you and Brian got married, constantly calling just to ask how you are and reminding you to eat if you haven't. She's just like Brian, and the love you felt from her was one you never really got from your parents. It's warm, unconditional— real.

Which is why you feel guilty.

Because whatever you have with Brian isn't, and all you're doing is deceiving her and letting her believe in something that isn't true.

You swallow, pretending to focus on slicing the vegetables. "It was... nice."

"Just nice?" She muses with a raised brow. "I haven't seen my grandson that happy in a long time, you know."

"He's always happy," you say lightly. "Nothing new there."

"No, dear. This was different."

You don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. You don't want to look too much into the reason behind Brian's unusually good mood, according to his own grandmother.

Grandma Kang sets the spoon down before turning to you.

"I know, you know."

Your grip tightens around hilt of the knife. "Know what?"

She smiles at you. "About you and Younghyun. It isn't real, is it?"

You stomach twists at her words. "Grandma, I-"

"You don't have to explain anything, my dear. I'm old, not blind," she chuckles, turning back to the pot. "My grandson has a lot of love to give," she says gently. "And he does it without expecting anything in return."

You exhale shakily, setting your knife down. "I know that."

She hums. "Then you should know that he's not trying to hurt you. He never has." She pauses to sigh. "Stupid boy. I know he only got married to appease me. His parents set him up with so many girls, you know? He was always polite to them, but his heart was never fully in it. Until you." Grandma Kang smiles at you softly. "It's scary, right? But that's also the beauty of falling in love."

"I don't-" you cut yourself off. Because what could you even say? That she's wrong? That you don't-

You can't. Because then you think you'd be lying.

"Grandma? I didn't know you were coming over." Brian appears in the kitchen, surprise etched on his features. He has his blazer draped over his shoulder, his tie loosened, and the sight makes your throat dry.

His eyes are quick to find yours, and you quickly turn away before he could notice the tears welling in your eyes— tears you're only now registering are there in the first place.

You don't even want to know why you're crying— you seem to be doing that a lot lately— but you may have a hunch.

"Ah, these damn onions, am I right?" Grandma Kang huffs, planting her hands on your shoulders as she moves you behind her; you're silently grateful for that. You take that time to dab your eyes dry, clearing your throat slightly and hoping your red face wouldn't give you away. "Why? Is there something wrong with me wanting to spend time with my favourite granddaughter?"

"Of course not, Grandma," Brian says gently, and you hate how the softness of his voice affects you. By the time you turn around, he's already peering at the dishes on the island, and he looks up at you with a grin on his face. "Did you make all of this?"

Somehow, his question makes your cheeks burn. You think it's embarrassment, having been caught doing something nice for a husband you never wanted in the first place.

You don't even know who you are anymore.

"With a little help," you answer, but your voice comes off as quiet. If Brian notices how uncharacteristically awkward you're being, he doesn't say anything.

"Give yourself a little more credit, dear! Younghyun, a lady who can cook this well? You better treat her right, or I'll come knock some sense into you myself."

Brian doesn't look at his grandma despite her chiding, still looking at you like you're the most valuable thing in the world. "Don't worry, Grandma." His gaze grows softer. "I don't plan on letting her go anytime soon."

✦ ✦ ✦

You find yourself wide awake again despite it being way past midnight. It's turned into a routine at this point, and you have no one else to blame but your housemate who's probably already fast asleep at the other side of the house.

You groan. You hate Brian for making you feel this way, and you really wish you meant it.

Knowing that staying in your room wouldn't do you any good, you decide to head to the kitchen— perhaps a hot drink could help ease the turmoil in your heart.

But alas, your heart only starts to thump faster when you realise the lights are already on, and you find Brian leaning against the counter as he nurses a mug of tea.

"Hey. Can't sleep?"

Your words catch in your throat, so you settle with a nod as you open the refrigerator for the mere sake of wanting something to do.

"You shouldn't be drinking something cold this late. Want me to make you some tea?" He offers, and despite yourself, you still find it in you to roll your eyes at his gentle nagging.

"No, I'm good."

"Milk?"

"I'm not a child."

"I'm afraid that's about all the options I have for you then, love," Brian chuckles before he stops, tone growing softer now. "What's the matter?"

You close the door, finally turning to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You just seem distracted lately."

"I'm fine," you mutter, and even though you know Brian isn't convinced, he doesn't push any further.

"Listen, if you're having trouble sleeping..." he trails off. "You can stay with me."

You blink at his words. "What?"

"If you want to." He pauses as though to gauge for your response, before adding, "would it help?"

You hesitate. You hate how easy the way he says it, so gentle and sincere, giving you an out like he knows how much you struggle with expressing your thoughts.

And as much as you still do, you know there's no use in hiding it anymore when he's already seen through you completely.

So you settle with a nod, a slight one, but one Brian manages to catch nonetheless.

His smile doesn't widen, and he doesn't gloat. Instead, he sets his mug in the sink before he takes your hand. "C'mon," he says softly. "Let's go to sleep."

The walk back to his room is a quiet one, and by the time you step inside, Brian lets go of your hand just long enough to pull back the covers.

"Go on," he says, nodding towards the bed.

You stall, but only for a moment, before slipping under the sheets. The mattress dips as he settles in beside you, and any distance between the two of you disappears in an instant.

Brian shifts slightly, turning on his side to face you. "Better?" He murmurs.

You still don't trust yourself to speak, so you only nod.

He smiles at you then, lips quirking up ever so slightly as he reaches over, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. The touch is fleeting, but it sends something through you.

"Good," he whispers, and like it's the most natural thing in the world, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close— just close enough for you to hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat you missed.

And with your head resting just above his heart, you note the way his breaths even out as he falls asleep, and you know you should too, but your mind refuses to settle.

"Brian?" You call out softly, so softly you think you never meant for him to hear it at all. Maybe that's for the best.

"I think..." you swallow, gripping the fabric of shirt a little tighter. "I think I'm falling for you."

You let your words hang in the air, fragile yet certain, because you don't regret it at all.

And just like the first time Brian's held you in his arms, you feel like you could finally breathe again.

As it turns out, coming to terms with your feelings was more difficult than you thought, especially when every little thing Brian did seemed to mean something now.

The way his hand would find the small on your back when you crossed the street, the way he always ensured your coffee was the perfect temperature before handing it to you, even down to the way he looked at you— soft, knowing, like he could see right through every excuse you tried to make for yourself.

Still, you tried your best to brush it off. You're a grown woman, not some schoolgirl with a silly crush. You could handle this.

Or at least, that's what you told yourself.

Which is why, when you find yourself at his workplace, lunch bag in hand with a bento box specially prepared (a completely normal, thoughtful thing to do), you ignore the way your heart races at the thought of seeing him.

His receptionist greets you with a smile, telling you that he's inside his office, and you make the short walk down the hallway. For some reason, you're nervous, and while you'd usually blame it on your nerves, you should have known that it was something else this time.

Because there he is, smiling with another woman as she laughs at whatever he'd said. And Brian— that asshole— isn't doing anything to stop her either. He doesn't stop her when she bats her eyelashes at him, leaning in too close for comfort, and he doesn't stop her when she calls him Younghyun.

Younghyun, the one name that for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to say, yet hated to hear from anybody else.

You left right then and there, slamming the bag on the receptionist's table on your way out.

"Tell him he can eat this if he wants," you mutter without turning back.

The poor receptionist stares at your retreating back before she hesitantly picks up the bag. You're obviously in a mood, and quite frankly, Eunji wanted no part of it. Not like she has a choice.

"Sir?" She knocks on Younghyun's door. "Your wife dropped this off."

Younghyun looks up from his paperwork, brows furrowed when he sees the bag in her hands. "I thought I told you to just let her in if she comes by."

"Well, yes." She tightens the grip on the bag. "I did send her to your office right away, sir, but she left not even a minute later."

Younghyun tilts his head as he stares at the bag. "And what time was this?"

"Five minutes ago, sir. She just left."

Younghyun takes in a breath before nodding. "Okay, just put in on the table. Thanks, Eunji."

Eunji nods before scurrying out, leaving Younghyun to lean against his chair, jaw tightening. This wasn't like you— it wasn't very often that you'd come by his office, only doing so when you started cooking, but the times that you do, you'd usually make him come down to get you, or at the very least, have a snarky remark at the ready as you handed him his food. But this? This was something else entirely.

Of course, the way you've been avoiding him recently wasn't lost on him, and Younghyun couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

He thought everything was fine— better than fine, even, now that you were sharing a bed, falling asleep in his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, but somehow you felt more distant than ever.

He started noticing the little things at first— the way you still curled up next to him at night, but never reaching out to him first. He'd pull you close, only for you to stiffen for a moment before letting yourself melt in his embrace, as though you had to remind yourself that it was okay. The way you used to linger in the mornings, pretending to still be asleep so you wouldn't have to move away from him so soon, only to be the first to slip out of bed now. You barely meet his eyes when you talk to him, and you no longer found fault with him in the littlest things, be it the way he'd organise the fridge or how he'd double check his schedules multiple times even though nothing has changed.

And the worst part? You still made him coffee in the mornings, still took care of his meals, still made sure he had everything he needed— all except you, which was the one thing he actually did need.

The silence where your bickering used to be is almost worst than the distance. At least when you argued, it showed that you were paying attention to him.

Which is why now, when he finally finds you in the kitchen, awake and not pretending to be asleep to avoid him like you do, he decides to end this once and for all.

"You didn't tell me you dropped by earlier," he starts off, as casual as possible as he leans against the refrigerator, watching you do the dishes.

You don't even turn to him. "You seemed busy. Didn't want to interrupt."

"Busy? It was lunch time, love."

You don't answer, and Younghyun sighs. "Alright." He steps towards you before turning off the faucet, and you turn to him with a scowl on your face.

"Bri-"

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to force it out of you?"

You waver slightly, not all used to this sight of Brian. He's isn't necessarily angry, but the edge in his voice as opposed to the usual gentleness that you're used to is enough to tell you that he's, at the very least, annoyed.

Still, you hold his stare. "Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me." He clenches his jaw. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," you retort through gritted teeth before attempting to move past him, but Brian cages you in between his arms. You glower at him. "Let me go."

"Is this about earlier?" He asks.

Your fingers twitch. "What?"

"You saw me with her, didn't you?"

Of course. Of course, he's seen through you yet again. You let out a humourless scoff, not ready to admit it just yet.

"You think I'm jealous? I don't care what you do, or who you talk to, Brian. I don't care if you want to let other people call you Younghyun, or if you want to flirt, or-"

"Flirt? Youngji's my cousin! She was at our wedding? She's getting married next month."

You part your lips to reply, but nothing comes out. The room feels unbearably still, the weight of your own foolishness settling over you like a heavy blanket.

Brian exhales sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, and he finally takes a step back for you to breathe. "You don't even call me Younghyun," he mutters, scoffing humourlessly. "But you hate hearing it from anybody else."

You shut your eyes. "Younghyun, I-"

"Say that again."

You breath hitches, and when you open your eyes, he's already looking at you.

You lips quiver, and you don't know what possesses you to obey, but his name rolls of your tongue again in a hushed whisper. "Younghyun."

He smiles at you, and you now realise it isn't the same one you see him give to Youngji. It isn't the same as the polite, effortless ones he gives to strangers, or the one he gives to his family, full of warmth.

No, this one is different.

This one is just for you.

And for the first time since this whole mess started, you finally understand.

"Now tell me," he urges gently as he takes your hands into his. "Tell me why it bothered you so much."

It seems like he already knows, and he's purposely giving you the chance to say it.

"Because I want to be the one to make you smile like that," you say quietly, and Younghyun scoffs as he shakes his head.

"Baby, do you even see the way I look at you?" He asks, almost in exasperation as though he couldn't believe you aren't getting it yet. "You think I look at everyone like they hung up all the stars in the sky? You think I smile at everyone like they're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me?" His voice is quieter now, but no less intense. "Because I don't. It's just you. It's always just been you."

You don't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, and Younghyun is quick to catch them as he cups your face gently before he leans his forehead against yours.

"Tell me," he murmurs. "Whatever it is that you've been holding back. Say it."

"Younghyun." Your lips quiver, and he reassures you with an equally teary smile. "I'm in love with you."

Relief flickers across his face, and despite his own emotions, his lips widen even more in a way that makes your heart ache.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you called me to bail you out of jail," he says softly, as though going any louder would break the moment. "So if you say you love me," he swallows, throat working as he lets his first tear fall, "just know that I've loved you for way longer."

You let out a shaky laugh, biting your inner lip as more tears slip free. He chuckles, wiping them away again as she shakes his head.

"Can't believe you thought I'd look at anyone the way I look at you."

You sniff. "Shut up."

But you don't pull away when Younghyun leans in, and you don't stop him when he finally kisses you— soft and slow, like you have all the time in the world.

And maybe, just maybe, you think you do.

[sxfterhearts]

never too late pt 1

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!youngk x hair stylist!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: slight angst, fluff (soon! in pt 2)

♡ word count: 2,152 words

♡ author’s note: i went to day6 concert 2 weeks ago and now im officially a myday HAHA i love them sm. i wanted to write for them (specifically wonpil) but i got this idea first so here's the first of a twoshot (maybe more?) for youngk :") also pls forgive me i havent wrote in eons so im v dusty but day6 songs give me great inspo!! also ty pinterest for the great pics <3

♡ listen to: still there by day6

//

“Thank you for joining us today, Young K. Wow – bassist, vocalist, lyricist, composer extraordinaire, Kang Younghyun from the globally-renowned band Day6, is here in the studio with us today. Young K, welcome.”

“Thank you, and thank you for having me. It’s great to be back here to promote our new album.”

“Let’s get straight into it, shall we? Here’s an exclusive listen to the highlight medley of Day6’s new album, Band-Aid.”

The cameras go off, as Young K and the interviewer exchange pleasantries amongst the voices of Day6 in the background. As the highlight medley finally drew to a close, applause filled the studio.

“Wow, wow, wow!" The interviewer, a long-time colleague of Young K from his days as a radio DJ, clapped his back in awe. “Just – the musicality, the lyricism, everything came together so nicely. Young K, you’ve outdone yourself, yet again.”

“I couldn’t have done it without the members, of course. We all had a hand in creating this album.” 

“Young K, always so kind; so humble. Tell us,” He leaned in, as though he was about to expose a big secret. The cameras zoomed into the two of them sitting side by side on the sofa, a replica of a cozy living room. “What’s your secret? How do you manage to write banger after banger?”

Young K laughed politely, shaking his head. “There is no secret.”

The interviewer gasped, faking annoyance. “Stop it, tell us! We must know, MyDays want to know – where do you find inspiration to write such heart-wrenching and soul-touching rock ballads? You’ve been told in the past that you write as though you’ve been through multiple divorces – is that true?”

“Hyung!” YoungK laughed at that comment, recounting that particular interview. “You know me well enough to know that I have not, in fact, been married or gotten divorced.” 

“Then how? We are all at the edge of our seats, dying to know. Those words, those lyrics – they must come from somewhere.”

“Well, if you must know…” Young K mulled over his words as comfortable silence fell between them. The soft instrumentals from their title song played in the background as he thought carefully about his response. “I consume a lot of media. Books, movies, videos, poetry… Everything inspires me. I take time to immerse myself in art so I can draw inspiration from it and create my own art. Of course, the members and I bounce off each other’s ideas and energies as well. Even something as simple as a walk in the park or a trip to a café can bring about unexpected scenes that can be inspiration for a tune or melody, which can eventually become a song on one of our albums.”

“Wow…” The interviewer clapped his hands in amazement once more. “Of course, as expected, you’re a true artist. Although… is there really no one special in your life that inspires you to write these songs? A girlfriend, or a crush, perhaps?”

“Hey…” Young K tutted, playfully shoving his colleague. “Like I said, you know me, there’s nothing like that.”

//

Your scissors rested heavily against your palm as your fingers carded through her hair, re-evaluating the length with great consideration. 

“Eonnie!” Your current client, Seulgi, gasped. “Isn’t this…”

Her words trailed off as she raised her phone towards you. 

The moment you laid eyes on the video, you hushed her. 

“Ah, so it is him…”

“Seulgi, please, you need to stay still, otherwise the cut will be uneven.” You muttered, your mood turning sour at the slightest mention of him.

“With you as my stylist? I don’t believe it. You’d never let me walk out of here without my hair looking absolutely immaculate.” She retorted. “How long has it been, a year?”

You gently fixed her posture before picking up a chunk of hair on her left side, diligently snipping away to give her face-framing layers. You mulled over her question, purposely making her wait. Sometimes you regret confiding in her. The lesser people knew about whatever happened between you and Young K, the better. “Hmm, a year and a bit.” You responded nonchalantly.

“Do you still think of him?” She asked, full of curiosity. She was half-paying attention to Young K’s live-streamed interview, half-listening to your replies. 

You considered this for a moment. It was a hard question to answer. In some ways, you had moved on. Your waking thoughts were no longer consumed by him. You took down the shared photos stuck on your fridge. Your head no longer turned at every indication of a customer walking through your salon’s doors, hoping that it would be him. You could finally listen to Day6 songs without having to skip over his parts.

And yet…

You still kept his unopened messages in KakaoTalk, unwilling to delete them. His hoodie from the previous world tour occupied a permanent space in the very edge of your closet. The bungeoppang vendor in front of your salon never stopped asking about ‘the tall, handsome young man’ whenever you bought a bag of red bean stuffed-pastries on cold winter days. You had to walk a different route every morning towards your bus stop to avoid the convenience store you frequented together on one too many late date nights filled with soju and ramen. Even now, as the harsh winter transitioned into spring, you couldn’t bear to throw away the plane tickets you kept from your trip to Jeju two autumns ago.

“Y/N eonnie?”

“Hmm?”

“I think he’s talking about you.”

You scoffed, combing through Seulgi’s soft locks.

She persisted. “I’m serious – didn’t you two go on that trip to Jeju? He’s talking about it now.”

//

“I love travelling, but personally for me, the purpose of the trip really matters. Say, for example, a trip I take with the members for a performance is vastly different to a holiday.”

“Of course, that makes sense. You can relax properly on a holiday because it’s not work.”

“Yes, and that’s not to say that I don’t enjoy touring and seeing MyDays from all across the world. But the intention is different. There’s a lot of things on my mind when I’m on tour – do I have all my music equipment? How am I gonna play this particular song, or what adlibs should I do for this performance? Questions like that constantly pop up in my head, and it’s hard to quiet them down.”

“Yes, you want to perform and do your best.”

“Exactly, but the trips that I take for leisure, that is my true healing time.”

“You mentioned going to Jeju?”

Young K nodded, pausing for a drink of water. “Yes.” 

“Tell me about that trip. What did you do? Did you still think about music?”

“Well, it was very healing. In fact, it was one of the only trips I’ve taken in the past few years where I could truly let loose and be myself. I think that’s why I could come back and write all these songs.” Young K admitted. 

“Ah! So you wrote songs for this album on that trip two years ago?” The interviewer asked, intrigued. 

Your breath hitched, fingers pausing its work on Seulgi’s hair. 

“Not all of them, no. Since the start of Day6 I’ve realised how important it is to be constantly writing, constantly thinking of new songs, to ensure that we have melodies ready, on the go, that we can pull out at any time. So subconsciously, I’m always thinking about music.”

“Wow, as expected of a talented musician like yourself.”

Young K laughed it off humbly. “No, but seriously, it is so helpful to have a few melodies in the arsenal. Inspiration can strike at any time, and an unfinished melody could turn into a song at the drop of a hat.”

“Right, it’s almost like it was waiting for the right timing to come into fruition.”

“Yes, and that happened to me several times in Jeju.”

“Which songs did you finish on that trip, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Bits of the title song were written in a little hut next to the sea.”

Your breath hitched at the mention of the hut you stayed in with YoungK. The linen bed sheets, your tangled bodies, the smell of fresh saltwater and lingering scent of Hallabong oranges – the memories crashed over you in relentless waves. You set your scissors down as you and Seulgi watched YoungK’s interview with unwavering concentration, hanging off every single word. 

“So we have Jeju to thank for this wonderful title song! Anything else?”

A sad smile flashed across Young K’s face. You blinked, and in the next second, it was gone. Young K, ever the camera-trained idol, buried his true feelings and memories under layers of professionalism.  

“Songwriting has several stages to it.” Young K explained matter-of-factly, eyes wandering into a distance. “Melt Down was already near the stages of completion, and only needed a tiny push to get it over the line. Other songs like Help Me Rock&Roll had started a long while ago, so I brushed off the dust and progressed it further.” He paused for another sip of water. “She Smiled and Still There… I didn’t finish them until much later, but you could say they were conceived during that trip.”

The interviewer let out several gasps, praise after praise falling off his lips at Young K’s talent and creativity. As the conversation meandered towards more mundane questions such as Day6’s touring schedules and their plans for the upcoming year, you found it harder and harder to listen to his voice.

“Eonnie…” Seulgi’s voice was soft. 

She set her phone down and handed you a tissue. Unknowingly, your cheeks were stained with fresh tears. “Ah, thank you, Seulgi…” You always had your suspicions that those songs were related to your time together, but hearing him admit it out loud triggered an emotional response deep within you. 

“What happened?”

“Honestly… I don’t really know.” You sighed deeply. “Things just kept getting in the way. He’d be busy, and so was I, and we kept fighting over the same things, over and over again. Until one day, I just… I don’t know. I stopped answering his messages. And I guess he stopped trying to reach me.”

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I messed up, didn’t I? I’m so messed up…” You dabbed the corners of your eyes before they were filled with another round of tears. “I let him go…”

“No, it’s not all your fault. Relationships go both ways. If anything, he’s equally as responsible.” Seulgi reminded you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “Also, it’s never too late to fix your mistakes.”

You hiccupped, lips forming into a pout. “Isn’t it?”

“Of course not, look.” She nudged you to watch the television which was coincidentally playing the highlights from Young K’s interview that just ended.

The timing was immaculate. 

“Tell us, Young K, do you have any advice for those who resonate with your songs, especially the heartbreaking ballads? What do you hope MyDays will take away from your songs?” The interviewer asked his final questions. 

“Comfort, of course. We hope that Day6 songs can provide comfort to anyone out there who is hurting.” Young K turned to look at the camera with a sincere, piercing gaze. “No matter what happened in the past, just know that you and that person both tried your best. Sometimes things don’t work out for various reasons – perhaps it’s incompatibility, or maybe it’s timing. Call me a romanticist, but I believe that love conquers all. We have a song called The Power of Love, don’t we? Time heals all wounds, and maybe with a bit of luck, everything will turn out okay. Until then, Day6 and our songs will be right here with you.”

Seulgi shook her head at her fellow idol in mock disbelief. “I can see why you fell for him, he has such a silver tongue. Even I was convinced – and I work in this industry!”

“Me and all the other MyDays, I’m really not that special when it comes to vying for his attention.” 

“Are you joking?” Seulgi laughed at your denial. She cocked her head towards your phone, buzzing in front of the mirror. “You owe me 5 bottles of soju if he just texted you.”

You rolled your eyes, fingers shaking in trepidation as you picked up your phone. 

// 

[12:09pm] yk: hey, i know it’s been awhile. sorry it took me so long, but what are the chances that you’re free tonight?

[12:09pm] y/n is typing…

[12:10pm] yk: dinner’s on me.

[12:10pm] y/n is typing…

[12:11pm] yk: and drinks

[12:11pm] y/n: ok

//

“I should’ve bet more soju!”

“Aren’t you supposed to stay off alcohol before your comeback?”

“Who cares? There are other more important things in life, like seeing my best friend and genius hairstylist happy.”

[dayfics]

Lean on me

Sungjin x fem!reader

Words: 5.8k (PHEW. This was relaxing as hell!)

Warnings: detailed descriptions of depression, crying and loneliness, reader is sad in a new city, hurt comfort (my guilty pleasure), angst, fluff, Sungjin is the sweetest, he takes care of her, soft sex, looooooove, no roles really although he's in control, just sweet, slow lovemaking, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (don't be stupid)

A/N: This is one of my favorite things I've ever written. A tiny bit drawn from my experiences, because interning was... something. I'm glad about the knowledge I gained, but yup. Never again. I'm happy with my job (probably the only context I'd say that in).

Now playing: When You Love Someone by DAY6

You couldn't lie: adulthood was hard on you. Your jobs sent you and your boyfriend, Sungjin, to different cities, and you promised yourself you'd give long-distance a shot, because you knew Sungjin was worth it. And it was only a year; you'd make it through, you always did. The only problem was you found it a lot easier to shrink into your old habits and cycles when he wasn't around to keep a check on you.

None of your past college years were particularly eventful, but the last one seemed to pierce through your heart and exhaust you like no other. You weren't one for a large group of friends; you liked your solitude. Although, of course, Sungjin dispelled a lot of the loneliness you felt when he came into your life second year. But here, in a new city, the constant reminders of your outsider-ness in the form of already-formed friend groups, outings excluding you, and countless social media posts – they were too much to take, even though you'd experienced them before, just a year or two prior.

You longed for the familiarity of your hometown, the walls of your old house, all those times when you didn't cry yourself to sleep almost daily. Halfway through your 20s, you couldn't help but wonder – is this all your life was going to be spent doing? Longing? You always spiralled back into these thoughts, and you felt guilty expressing them to Sungjin, because he was killing it in Seoul. His boss adored him, everyone respected him, and he was the top performing intern. Jealousy was the absolute last thing you felt – you were so, so proud of him. But you didn't want to dampen his achievements with your moping, even though you knew he'd understand. The distance made it far too easy to bottle things up again, a habit he'd taught you to break.

You knew he'd be upset if he knew you were doing it again. But you couldn't help it, or that's what you told yourself.

One Friday evening, when you were getting ready to leave work, you saw your colleagues approach the door as a group, talking and laughing. Sigh. Were they going drinking again? You wanted to avoid the humiliation of a pity-invite, so you pretended to tweak something on your laptop for a few more minutes. Friday night outings. You'd gone for the first, and it was fun. However, the dull ache of your depression stopped you from going for the next few, and soon, they stopped inviting you. If you'd pulled yourself up then, would you have more people to call friends now?

It's okay. Just a few more months, then you can leave this place. Yet another thing you had to keep telling yourself.

As you leaned against the taxi window on the way to your apartment, you were contemplating your life again. This was your reality – it wasn't some fever dream that would wear off and you'd find yourself back in your hometown. Just the fact made you want to cry again; quiet public breakdowns were commonplace for you here. You held your tears well while paying the driver, even while walking to the entrance to your flat. But as soon as you got in, the floodgates broke. You collapsed to the floor, exhausted in every possible sense of the word, tears flowing freely. You were loud in your frustration, but you didn't care. All those nights you spent sniffling under the covers, they weren't enough – you wanted to sob, you wanted to bawl the way you did as a little girl when you had a fight on the playground, or something silly like that.

You wanted so badly to have someone to call, someone who could come, someone who could hug you and tell you you were being silly. The thought of Sungjin made you cry even more, about how sad he would be to see you so broken again. You thought back to the first night you spent in this apartment; he'd come to see you off before leaving to his own. He helped you set up everything, and you remember the tinge of sadness that came with the realisation that he wouldn't always be there to help. He couldn't, and neither could you. But you'd pushed it away in favour of better thoughts – this would open up so many opportunities for the both of you, and hopefully make your relationship stronger. The goodbye was short and sweet, and he kissed your forehead so tenderly you swore it could fuel your motivation for the whole internship.

Who knew you'd be doing so miserably without him? You stared at the promise ring you both shared, tears blurring your vision. He was probably looking at his own, too, wondering how you're doing...

This was the issue with living alone – no one could stop you from moving from thought to worse thought, spiralling down a tunnel of 'what-if's and making yourself feel worse. Back when you had roommates, you'd kept the spiralling to a minimum, mostly out of fear of judgement. But here, it was just you and your thoughts.

Squatting on the floor was starting to hurt, so you shifted to a more effective crying stance – fetal position on the hard marble. You felt the tears stain your cheeks, mascara no doubt painting your face black, running down your hair and dripping onto the floor. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt short of breath while crying; it was always silent, concealed and hidden. It felt good, in a twisted way, to finally let it all go. It was pathetic, so, so pathetic, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You absentmindedly contemplated having a loud crying session every Friday, because it seemed so therapeutic.

In all the crying-your-eyes-out commotion, you didn't hear the lock to your apartment click as the key was turned. Back to the door, oblivious, you continued lamenting and weeping, the comfort you got from it too irresistible.

The day Sungjin came and left, you'd surprised him with a key to your apartment. You knew he couldn't come often – the job was demanding, so was yours – but you wanted to convey the sentiment. He'd smiled and hugged you, promising that he'd see you as soon as he could. Only, you hadn't anticipated it to be a random Friday night, and the night you chose to cry so hard your ears started ringing. Not ideal.

Sungjin hadn't anticipated it either. But the sudden announcement of a three-day weekend after a particularly hard audit left no doubt in his mind: he had to see you. He couldn't stifle the boyish excitement as he stood at the gate of your apartment, imagining the surprise on your face when you'd see him walk in. As he climbed the stairs to your flat, he wondered if you'd changed anything about yourself or the flat since he'd last video-called you. What if your makeup style changed? He knew you'd look pretty as ever in anything.

The soft smile that'd gradually creeped on his face as he thought of you faded as soon as he turned the key to your door. Lights dimmed, your bag astray, and you lying on the floor, shaking. He'd seen you cry before, sure, thousands of times, but he'd never seen you so... helpless. Desperate. His heart twisted at the way you sobbed; he wondered what could've happened in the short while since you last called him. You were always fine on the phone...

Paralysed by his shock, he realised you still hadn't heard him enter. He wordlessly closed the door before setting his bag down by it, and walked the few steps over to where you laid – she didn't even make it to her room, he thought sadly.

The shadow over you immediately made you alert, and you cursed yourself for not double-locking your door like you always did. The breakdown can wait, you need to be safe first! The moment you turned around, Sungjin had kneeled at the same time, and was reaching out to touch you. It took you a second to process that you weren't seeing things, your boyfriend was actually right there. And he saw, in real life, what you'd been suppressing telling him. How on earth would you explain yourself without hurting him?

"S-Sungjin?" You said, almost cautiously, knowing how ridiculous you looked right now.

He took you in his arms immediately, his hand resting on the back of your head as he held you to his warm body. "Y/N..." He needed a moment to formulate his words, before he could even begin to ask you what was wrong. His embrace was so comforting in spite of the guilt you felt. You allowed yourself to sink into him, resting your hands on his chest.

"I'm sorry," you sniffled before he could say anything, and your trembling voice made Sungjin's heart ache. You knew what you were apologising for – hiding everything, but also because of what you let yourself become. You knew he'd be disappointed even if he didn't show it. Sungjin, on the other hand, was even more perplexed – why were you apologising? He was about to do it, say sorry for not being there for you, for not paying enough attention. But you beat him to it?

"Shh, don't apologise, what are you even apologising for, silly..." he whispered as he stroked your disheveled hair, and the gesture made you cry more.

You didn't know how long you sat there, your face buried in his chest, wetting his shirt with tears; it could've been minutes or hours. Only once your cries died down a little did Sungjin finally say something, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it before. "Why don't I get the shower ready for you? Let me take care of you, love? Then we'll talk?"

You nodded a 'mm' into his chest, but made no effort to move; you only held onto him tighter. Part of you was still anxious to face him; sitting like this was the easier way out.

Sensing that you weren't going to detach from him anytime soon, he held onto you as he stood up, and adjusted your hands on his shoulders so he could carry you. Now you hid your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent that you missed so much.

Sungjin walked to the bathroom, carrying you effortlessly as he turned on the lights. He placed you on the counter and stood opposite you, and you reluctantly removed your arms from him. You mustered the courage to look at least at his chin, since you hadn't made eye contact since he walked in on you. He wordlessly grabbed the makeup wipes on your shelf and pulled a few out. He noticed your avoidant expression, but chose not to comment on it as he held your chin and cleaned the makeup off your face. You didn't want to break the silence – partly because you wanted to avoid that conversation, but also, it was a comforting silence. Not an awkward one.

His gentle hands then disposed of the wipes, and he focused on your hair. With all the writhing on the floor and all, you didn't realise how tangled it was until he was unknotting it with his hands, so carefully that you could barely sense it. Once it was detangled, Sungjin just ran his hands through your hair; your eyes fluttered shut with the relaxing feeling.

The absence of his hands made you open your eyes again, and you met his gaze. "Let's get you in the shower. C'mon." He led you off the counter, and started to unbutton your blouse. You lifted your arms and moved when needed, falling back into that comfortable silence. He kneeled as he undid your belt and took off your pants; in spite of your time apart, it wasn't embarrassing or awkward.

Your boyfriend delicately turned you around to unclasp your bra, and you complied. After he took off the last garment you wore, he swiftly removed his own clothes. He gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before leading you to the shower area, and damn, you so needed this. Being taken care of, even for something as 'easy' as a shower. This was all you needed, honestly. How did he know?

You'd underestimated the intimacy of a shower together. Sure, you'd goofed around with him before, making shapes out of your shampooed hair and playing around with the water. But this was the first time you'd so desperately needed him to take care of you. It added to the seriousness of everything, your breakdown that you were yet to address, the confusion he must've felt. But you were eternally grateful that he was allowing you to receive his care without explaining yourself first.

Sungjin stood facing you as he turned the shower on, letting the warm water fall on both of you. "A bubble bath would've been more relaxing, but I can work with this," he says, lighthearted, and you crack the smallest smile. It was as though he sensed how anxious you still were. He was so tuned into you; his actions always conveyed that.

A faint smile remained on his face as he began to massage your neck and arms, the running water making it easier for his hands to glide across you. He gently turned you around again, shifting closer so he could press your shoulders properly. Your eyes closed in bliss again, both the water and his warmth enveloping you. You turned when he switched off the tap, but he shook his head. "Mm. Turn. I can't touch you properly this way."

Even in this state, your cheeks burned at the innuendo, but you said nothing as you turned back around. Sex was the farthest thing on your mind – okay, not the farthest, your gorgeous boyfriend was naked in front of you after all. But it was pretty low down on the list. You were too focused on the feeling of his comforting hands and soft voice to think about all that.

When his hands were back on your body, you had to stop yourself from making a sound at how good it felt. If the first massage was good, this one with soap to lather on was heaven. Sungjin knew your body, every crevice, every sweet spot, and every ache you had as a result of your poor posture at work. And he healed everything, with just his touch. When he got to your legs, he kneeled down in front of you, and placed your hand on his shoulder for balance. You watched as he diligently massaged your legs, making sure to scrub the particularly insistent marks from the day's tussle.

You felt overwhelmed by his sincerity. Your brain was screaming at you, lift him up. You don't deserve all this, not after you lied and kept so much from him. As much as you knew this, you selfishly couldn't get yourself to stop him. Instead, you absentmindedly played with his hair, partly dry since he let you get wet first. It was the first touch you'd initiated all night, and Sungjin noticed. After he was done with your legs, he rinsed his hands before taking out the shampoo. You enjoyed the silence again, quietly watching him as he faced you now, massaging your scalp. Before you could hesitate, you placed your hands on his hips, nearly on his back but not quite. You weren't sure if you could handle him being that close and not do anything stupid.

He ran his hands through your hair like before, and the sensation brought the same drowsiness from before. Sungjin was probably the best masseur in the world; you couldn't even feel time pass when he worked his magic. At some point, he'd finished with your scalp, and you'd fallen back into his chest. Only his gentle grip on your chin as he pulled away brought you back to reality, still slightly dazed from how good his hands felt. "I'll wash you now, okay?"

Eyes half closed, you nodded, and he turned the water back on. This time, he faced you throughout, looking at you as he carefully washed away all the soapiness from your skin. Then, he finished up with your hair, and let the water give you a final rinse. When he turned the knob off, you stopped him before he could leave to get towels.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him close as you spoke what you were dying to say. "Thank you so, so, much, Sungjin, you don't even know what that meant to me..."

He was taken aback by your sudden confession, but returned your embrace nonetheless. His hand assumed its standard position on your hair, although it was too damp to stroke. He kissed the crown of your head. "Of course, my love. You can tell me after I dry you off."

He left and walked in with two towels and he wore one low on his waist, wiping you off before tying the towel around your head and body. Somehow, the sight of his v-line peeking out and his faint happy trail was more erotic than seeing him completely naked. You were crazy, you knew.

Sungjin sat you down at your dresser, turning on the hairdryer. He wasn't the most efficient at drying hair, his movements clumsy. But he got it done, then added the serum you always use to the tips of your hair. He then walked over to your closet. "What do you wanna wear? Long sleeve? A nightdress? Shorts?" You turned around as you answered coyly, "Can I wear one of your shirts?"

That soft smile you loved so much was back on his face, and he said an 'of course' before going to get his bag. He'd only brought three pairs of house-clothes, but of course he didn't mind sharing with you. He realised you didn't have any of his clothes here since this was the first time he visited.

He took out an old black tee for himself to wear, and a dark grey one for you. You put it on and put on your usual cotton underwear, settling on the bed to watch Sungjin change. The muscles on his back flexed as he wore the shirt, and you had to distract yourself from thinking about how big his clothes looked on you.

Once he was done, he sat beside you on the bed, body leaning against the headboard. "You look beautiful in my clothes." You smiled before you shifted closer to him, still a bit nervous about the impending conversation.

"Come here."

Sungjin snuggled you against his chest, your body almost on top of him as he stroked your now-silky hair. "Talk whenever you feel like. I'm here." You knew he wouldn't let you hide anything, but he was giving you time. In spite of everything.

Sungjin saw his old self in you. In fact, he found the two of you very similar back in college. But instead of drowning in toxic cycles together, you'd helped each other break them, and Sungjin was positive he couldn't have done it without you. Seeing you now, he understood that lifelong habits were difficult to get rid of, and he didn't judge you for falling back into them. He'd been close to doing it too, many times, but he always mustered the strength to stop himself. The thought of you not being able to do the same made his heart shatter.

You gladly took the concession he gave you, opting to listen to his heartbeat for a few minutes before you started. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that this was Sungjin you were talking to – you trusted him more than anyone, and he'd understand anything. Now that he was here, in front of you, it was a lot easier not to hide anything.

"It's a long story," you started off, earning a chuckle from Sungjin. "And I don't want you to blame yourself for anything because it's all on me, okay?

"I trust you. More than anything, and I know you'll listen to me rant and cry and complain, 'cause I've done it so many times." You felt your voice getting shaky again, but you trudged on. "But I think not seeing you in person made me want to show you my best self, show that I was doing as well as you were. But God, Sungjin, I was so miserable...

"I was always more of an introvert, but it got so much worse at this place. You know, I had friends at uni, but you were always my go-to, even before we dated. And I didn't mind you having other and more friends, because that was your personality. I always admired that about you."

Sungjin's hand moved to your cheek at that, thumb lightly caressing your face. He was silent, waiting for you to spill everything out.

"But I think – if I'm totally honest – knowing that you were happy and enjoying Seoul in spite of it being so new and different... it made me wonder why I couldn't be like that. And I think I kinda accepted that I couldn't ever be like that. That should've put me at peace, but I started hating myself for it, for never trying to make my life better or make the best of whatever I have. And it felt unfair to both of us to complain to you about it, because it would seem like jealousy. Which it never was."

Your hand moved to the side of his neck as you went on, "I'm always proud of you, especially now, because you're killing it. And as much as we're always there for each other, I didn't want to burden you with my moping because you deserve to enjoy this success.

"I planned to tell you whenever we met, because I just couldn't bring myself to do it over a call. I didn't expect you to walk in when I had the worst breakdown I've had in months. I don't know what pushed the line, but I was just so... sad today. I missed my old life. I missed you, so much. And you see how unfair it is, right? To call you and beg you to come, even though I'm sure you missed me too." You spoke every word that came into your brain, months of journal entries pouring out to the person you trusted most. "It's not that I didn't feel safe telling you. But I think you get what I mean.

"I guess I didn't realise how dependent I was on you to keep my bad habits in check. And I sound like such a kid right now, I know. I think I graduated high school only in papers. I don't think I can get myself to cry to you over the phone, even after this. And I'm already scared about what'll happen to me once you leave. If I'm being honest."

You had to take a short break to compose yourself; the tears started to flow without you even realising. You readjusted yourself so that you were closer to Sungjin's neck, and your body was almost fully on top of his. Sungjin had other plans, though, because in the middle of your moving, he shifted your positions to face each other, chests still flush. It was better for him this way, he could see you; it was worse for you this way, he could see you.

Your boyfriend wiped your tears for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight, and you had a bitter flashback to all the times you'd woken up with salty skin from all the crying you'd done. It took you only minutes to get used to Sungjin's care again, and you knew you had it bad.

"And the worst part is," you sniffled with a sad smile with his hand still on your cheek, "people tried to make it better for me. Even my boss noticed how lonely I was. But I always rejected their offers to nights out and Friday parties, they probably thought I hated them or something..."

"You didn't want to give them any expectations to live up to." He provided, and you looked up at him. He always knew what you were thinking; you didn't even need to say beyond a few sentences for him to understand your mind completely. "Exactly," you sighed as you looked at his broad chest, resting your hand there.

"I'm sorry for not telling you," you added after a momentary silence, meeting his eyes again. "I understand, darling," Sungjin spoke softly and sweetly, "I would never be mad at you for that. But this should be the last time. I'm never too busy to talk to you, no matter how serious it is."

You started to tear up again at that, and you cursed yourself internally. It was embarrassing that you craved his affection this much. You knew he wouldn't hate you for it, but it still seemed so... desperate.

"Hey. Hey," he spoke earnestly, "you don't ever need to look your best or hide from me. It's not embarrassing. I love you, every part of you. Don't ever forget that, Y/N."

The conviction in his voice gave you the warmth you'd been missing these past few months. You knew Sungjin was dead serious; he hated when you hid yourself from him. It was one of the first things the both of you had to work on in your relationship.

"II love you too, Sungjin. So much, so much," you whimpered against his chest, and he held you in his arms. "I won't hide again. I promise. I-I'll call you when it gets too much. But I don't want you to prioritise me over work, alright? I want you to do well, too."

"When have I ever failed at multitasking, honey?" He replied instantly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You let out a little chuckle at that, trying to calm your shaking voice. "I'm serious! You're not the only one who cares. I want you to know that. You're the most important person in my life. I want you to be happy."

Sungjin sighed, the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek. "I'm really as happy as I've ever been. Because of the job, because of Seoul, but most importantly because I have you. You think I'd have had the courage to go all the way to Seoul without you supporting me? You're my motivation, you know."

"Oh, God, Sungjin, I just stopped crying," you sobbed through your fresh tears, and Sungjin let out a loud laugh, probably the first of the evening. "It's true! Don't you believe me? Huh? That you're my one and only?" He craned his neck to look at you, and you just hid your face in his chest. "Stop," you giggled, but he continued. "That you're the love of my life?" A kiss behind your ear. "My girl?" A kiss to your temple. "My lovely, smart, gorgeous woman?" One on your cheek. You had the stupidest smile on your face through it all, and he was unrelenting. "Look at me, my beautiful girl."

You moved your head away from his inviting chest to meet his eyes, and he wiped your tears, again, with a fond smile. "I couldn't have done it without you. And I am so proud of you." Sungjin's lips met yours before you could respond, and your eyes closed of their own accord when you felt his soft, slow kiss.

Just being with Sungjin felt like home. But his kiss was like the warmth of the kitchen enveloping you; a sweet scent wafting through the air, the faint hum of a melody, and the familiar smile of your boyfriend. Strangely, ever since your first kiss, that was all you could think of whenever he kissed you, and it was a comforting image. One you had missed dearly for the past months.

There was no urgency in the kiss, in spite of your time apart. It was gentle. There wasn't any urgency in the way you tugged at his shirt, either – it was a faint pull, barely there, and Sungjin could've mistaken it for an accidental touch, but of course he didn't. He pulled away to look into your eyes for any leftover hurt; he wanted to know what you were doing this out of. Pain, or longing?

"Are you sure, baby?" You opened your eyes and nodded, a soft 'yes' leaving your lips, followed by, "I missed you."

"God, I missed you more," he replied roughly as he sat up to take off his black shirt, and you watched as his glorious chest came into view again.

"Sungjin, you're so handsome," you said in a dazed voice, a couple octaves higher than a few minutes ago. Your boyfriend was bashful, as you saw him awkwardly rub his neck in embarrassment. You loved complimenting him solely because of his reactions; it was like he transformed back into that sweet, shy stranger you'd met in your second year. You sat up to look at him closely, your hands running down his chest. You kissed him lightly on his lips before moving to his jaw and collarbone.

Before you could go lower, though, Sungjin stopped you with his hands around your wrists. "I love this, I love you, but I want to take care of you, sweetheart," he said, that fond smile back on his face. With a light blush around his neck that you pretended not to notice.

"Okay," you smiled happily, circling your arms around his neck again. He lowered you onto your back again, resting on his forearms as he looked at you with so much adoration you thought your heart was going to burst. He kissed you once more, gentle as ever, and you felt yourself get needier by the minute. You sighed contentedly as he moved his hands to lightly massage your breasts, your back arching in pleasure. The fabric restriction frustrated you, so you moved your hands to lift up your (his) shirt. But Sungjin stopped you, "No. Keep it on."

"Sungjin," you whined, and he could tell you were getting impatient, so he adjusted himself to touch you where you needed him most. "Sorry, baby, just missed you..."

He held back a groan looking at your dampened underwear, loving the effect he had on you. He took his sweet time taking it off, savouring your reactions and seeing your pussy after so long.

"Fuck... Gorgeous," he rasped, and your hands flew to grasp his hair before he even touched you. His fingers ghosted around your clit, barely there, causing you to buck your hips out of need. He used one arm to hold your torso down while he continued his featherlight touches, your little whimpers egging him on.

Before you cried out of frustration – he knows you're almost there – he finally indulged you, inserting his finger into your wet, needy core. It slipped in so easily that he wasted no time adding another, breaking eye contact only to watch his finger disappearing inside you. Sungjin didn't want to wait any longer; his hard-on was starting to be painful in his shorts. So as you neared your orgasm – pretty quickly, his brain added – he took out his fingers, making quick work of his shorts. Your eyes, screwed shut, opened questioningly, wondering what his intentions were. Was he punishing you? The thought did excite you, you'd admit, but you were too tired to enjoy it completely. You were just about to voice your concerns when he pushed his cock inside you, the stretch making you whine as you looked up at him.

"F-Fuck, Sungjin, ah..." you moaned as you gripped the sheets that you had definitely made a mess of. He leaned forward again, capturing your lips in a kiss as he finally started moving. Your hands rushed to hold onto him, his neck, his shoulders, anything, as he filled you up deliciously.

"Missed this. Missed you," he repeated as he broke away for breath, forehead touching yours. His large hands roamed over your body as he continued thrusting, making no rush since he knew this was how you liked it. "G-Gonna cum," you whispered. Maybe it was the time apart, maybe the way he took care of you, but you knew you wouldn't last long either way. "Me too, baby," he grunted, never breaking eye contact. As you felt the knot unravel, teary-eyed, you said, "I love y–"

Before you could finish, he was taking you in for another kiss, swallowing up your moans as he finished inside you. You held onto his shoulders tightly as he slowed his pace before stilling completely, giving you time to recover.

"I love you most." He said earnestly as he pulled out, giving you a final kiss before moving to get up. You didn't want to let go of him; you wanted to enjoy this moment more before you inevitably fell asleep and it became a memory. But Sungjin was unrelenting – you knew he wouldn't allow himself to leave you like this. So you sighed as you freed his shoulders, and he smiled at you before going to the bathroom to get a towel.

You heard the water run as he was probably cleaning himself up, and you stared at your ring again, unbelieving that all this had happened. Your boyfriend emerged with towels and a fresh pair of underwear as he sat down near your legs to clean you up. You were still fiddling with your ring as the room fell once again into that comfortable silence as he took care of you. There was a sort of dreaminess in your expression as he lifted your hips to put on your underwear, and as he replaced the blanket you'd laid for a fresh one. Without even realising, you'd began to cry, just thinking about all Sungjin had done for you.

You didn't even want to think about how this night would have usually passed, crying and waking up exhausted, like on so many other occasions. You were overwhelmed with gratitude, and as soon as he noticed your tears he was by your side again.

Your thumb was still touching your ring as he held your face, turning you towards him. "You don't have to thank me," he said before you could even open your mouth. "And one day," he continued as he held your right hand in his, covering your thumb with his own, "I'll ask you to marry me, so you know I'll be there for you forever."

You squeezed his hand as you cuddled into him like before, feeling the sleepiness overcome you despite your immense happiness. "I love you so much, Sungjin."

His hand rested on your head once again, the soothing strokes lulling you to sleep in his arms.

–––

Feedback would be greatly appreciated! ❤️

[mingyusleftbigtoe]

I NEED DAY6 FANFICS TO FEED MY DELUSION😭😭 THE POST CONCERT DEPRESSION IS HITTING💔💔

[jazziwritesthings]

One of the only day6 writers I have found and now i can't access their page. It's like it's gone 😭😭😭😭 im so sad. I had notifications set and everything. I miss you @livewithgratitude

[dearly-somber]

To The Moon | kyh

-> pairing. idol!younghyun x non-idol!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, established relationship

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 689

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. Brian’s voice >>>

-> collection. songfic

-> started. Sept. 12th, 2020 @ 22:25

-> fin. ???

-> edited. Aug. 21st, 2021 @ 22:15

-> divider credit. @saradika-graphics

<LISTEN TO THE SONG HERE!>

It was dark, and you were outside in the town square, sitting on a chair as you busked with some strangers.

"Fly me to the moon," you sang, smiling at the boy grinning at you through the crowd, unable to help the charisma that showed while you sang the song.

Throughout the song, Younghyun was sure that he fell for you all over again, his eyes watching you fondly. He had met you through Jae, who had introduced you as 'my sister's best friend'. You were around Sungjin's age, and you absolutely adored their music.

You had also mentioned that Dowoon was your favorite, because he was the youngest and cute as hell. Brian hand't been to happy about that conversation.

You finished the song off beautifully, staring at Brian as you sang in a gorgeous honey-voice.

"I," You smiled at him softly.

"Love," You tilted your head cutely.

"You..." You winked at him with a grin, bowing as the people around started applauding your performance.

"Waaah. Noona, that was great!" Younghyun said, welcoming you back with a hug and kiss to your cheek.

You giggled, scrunching up your face as his lips touched your cheek before he pulled away, your arms wrapping around his torso.

"Thank you."

He smiled at you stupidly, taking your hand and leading you onto one of the carts that were driving around the place, asking the driver to take you back to your hotel.

You leaned against the back of the cart as Brian leaned against the car-railing, looking out at the brightly illuminated city that was full of life and buzzing with activity.

You smiled, leaning up and off of the back of the cart to give him a warm back hug, leaning your cheek against him and sighing contentedly.

"What? You can't be tired already, can you?" He asked playfully, turning around to wrap his arms around your waist, looking down at you lovingly.

You shook your head with a pout, leaning your chin on his chest. “Not at all. I just felt like giving the guy I like a hug."

He snickered, pecking your lips and pulling away with a shit eating grin. "I thought you loved me, noona?"

"Eat shit, you brat—" You huffed angrily at him, turning away with a pout.

“Noona wait, I was kidding!"

•••

You put the key to your hotel in the keyhole, unlocking the door with a giant koala clinging to you, his head nuzzled into your shoulder. You hung up the keys and lightly pushed Younghyun off to hang up your coat. He made sure to remove his coat, too, the turtleneck he was wearing showing just the tips of his fingers.

You had managed to kick off your shoes before Brian grabbed you again, his own shoes somewhere in the corner of the room. You tried to get him off as you started nearing the bed, huffing and puffing with your effort. You turned around suddenly, yelling at him tiredly before squealing as your knees hit the back of the bed, in turn making you loose your footing.

"오모!—" You grunted as you landed on your back, Younghyun hovering over you. He watched you with slowly dilating pupils. You chuckled, leaning up to kiss him slowly, pulling away just as you noticed him trying to deepen the kiss, making him chase after you hastily. He whined when you 'tsked' at him, smirking playfully when you pushed him off and moved further up the bed.

"Not now, Foxy. I'm tired." He pouted at you childishly, nevertheless getting in next to you and wrapping himself around you. He sighed comfortably, pressing his nose into the nook of your neck before softly singing the same song from the busking station to you. You closed your eyes blissfully, smiling as you heard him whisper: 'I, love, you...'

You turned around, kissing his nose and brushing a strand of hair from his face.

"I love you too, my little fox." He smiled at you, kissing you before making you nuzzle your head under his chin, playing with your hair until the two of you fell asleep.

[multiphandomunnies]

day6

reactions

s.o has a piercing/tattoo

crush is a cancer

crush is a pisces

child’s first word is “appa”

crush is a leo

crush is an aries

s.o is in a band

s.o has a big family

s.o writes poetry

gf is sensitive around her time of the month

gf is a solo artist

gf is a capricorn

buying a ring too small

imagines

jae

it wasn’t bad at all

the best news

giggles and candy canes

you’re an angel

sungjin

young k

cotton candy kisses

wonpil

i’m not sure

dowoon

didn’t expect this

not as planned

you never knew

[rommwnpl13]

eternal young k blonde hair please save me

[unmanageable-day]

days gone by | chapter 4

previous chapter → next

summary. after a typical break-up, your cousin tried to set you up with his friend who happened to just broke up recently as well. after months, you knew it wouldn’t end well and the universe agreed, as suddenly he went m.i.a and it was easier for you to live being free and single. until one day he texted you again…

genre. social media!AU, fake dating!AU / angsty (still trying to find spots to add some fluff)

pairing. DAY6 Young K (Kang Younghyun) x female reader

[yoonguurt]

note: just because these groups are in the archive does not mean I’m not writing for them. it just means i’m not actively writing for them. any series planned for one of these groups will most likely be recast with a group i’m actively writing for or scrapped.

most works are 18+ (minors dni)

♤ - angst || ♡ - fluff || ♧ - smut

✍ - ongoing || ✗ - discontinued || ⎋ - hiatus || ✓ - completed

drabbles

☁ stages of jealousy || m.yoongi ♤

⤜ When your friend with benefits goes out with someone else, you make sure to find a way to bring him back to you; 788

☁ sick day || j.hoseok ♡

⤜ Your boyfriend takes care of you when you're sick; 791

☁ something new || m.yoongi ♧

⤜ You're needy and your boyfriend is more than willing to help; 990

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

series

☁ world of darkness || ot8 ♧

⤜ a series of one shots featuring supernatual bts; --

oneshots

☁ taken || p.jaehyung ♧

⤜ a new boy in your mythology class seems to think he knows about the myths first hand; 6,521

drabbles

☁ territorial || k.jongin ♧

⤜ After running away from your pack and arranged marriage, the man you were supposed to marry comes to bring you back; 2,066

drabbles

☁ for the grade || i.jaebeom ♧

⤜ Being forced to work on an important project with the man you despise makes you rethink what you thought you knew; 5,506

☁ finally || m.tuan ♡

⤜ All you want is Mark, but you could never tell him that; 619

☁ heartbeat || k.yugyeom ♡

⤜ Being pregnant is not what you need right now, but your boyfriend won't let you worry alone; 809

☁ wild ride || i.jaebeom ♧

⤜ Teasing your boyfriend may not have been the best idea. Or maybe it had; 1,172

☁ welcome home || k.yugyeom ♧

⤜ You welcome your boyfriend home in the best way you know how; 647

drabbles

☁ tell me baby || l.hoseok ♤

☁ maybe one day || l.minhyuk ♤

⤜ Loving your best friend when he's gone all the time is hard on the heart; 381

⤜ Minhyuk finally gathers the courage to confess; 647

☁ mine || l.jooheon ♧

⤜ You get more than you bargained for when you make an attempt to see what your husband has been hiding; 2,083

reactions

☁ ghost hunting with monsta x

⤜ What it would be like to go ghost hunting with the boys; 382

series

☁ a familiar face || y.kihyun ♤

⤜ You meet a man who feels awfully familiar, but you've never seen him before. :: 01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05

drabbles

☁ dance for me || m.lee ♧

⤜ You never expected taking dance lessons would lead to having the hot dance teacher's hand down your pants; 2,246

series

☁ quatervois || m.lee, n.yuta ♧

⤜ You've been with Mark for so long. Your best friend Yuta despises him. He swears he has a reason. :: 01 || 02

©️ yoonguurt. do not repost, continue, or translate my works. graphics by kwanisms

[sxfterhearts]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ florist!wonpil x interior designer!reader (ft. best friend baker!younghyun and side day6) ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff for our bday boy <3

♡ word count: 4,184 words i got carried away

♡ author’s note: happy birthday kim wonpil you are the softest sweetest most affectionate idol ever i hope you celebrated well today!!! thank you for being you <3 be happy always hehe

//

Is he… pouting?

Kim Wonpil, 31 years old, dressed in an all-white outfit with a brown apron tied around his waist, hands clasped in prayer, shoulders shaking in disbelief. Kim Wonpil, the owner of the town’s best and only florist. Kim Wonpil, your seatmate in kindergarten, who lived two blocks away from you. 

This Kim Wonpil, the current version of him, at least, was standing in front of you, pouting.

“Please, Y/N… Just let me have it, I beg of you!” His voice reached an uneasy shrill, as he whined with little to no shame. He even unclasped his hands and reached out to tug at your sleeve. “Just this once, c’mon…”

You stood, transfixed, unable to believe that a grown-ass man was acting like this.

Over what, you may ask? Well, this entire commotion was caused by something so trivial; so simple – a slice of strawberry sponge cake.

The last slice, to be specific.

Look, you won fair and square – you reached the bakery first, and that’s even after messaging your friend Younghyun, the owner of said bakery, that you were calling dibs on his infamous strawberry cake.

You envisioned yourself sitting cross-legged in your room, your iPad playing some drama that you barely paid any attention to, as you indulged in a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of strawberry cake to celebrate the end of a long week.

But it seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Guys…” Younghyun whisper-shouted from behind the counter, his brows knitted in frustration. Why were all of his friends absolute weirdos? He secretly wondered whether this was a sign from the universe to find better friends. “Hurry up, you’re holding the line!” To the patient old lady standing behind you two, he put on his best customer service smile and reassured her in his well-practiced customer service tone, “Won’t be long, ma’am!”

Wonpil turned to Younghyun, pupils shaking in desperation. “You can’t let her have it, hyung, please. I’ve been such a loyal customer, I’ve been buying from you for three decades! How long has she been here – like a week?”

“Four months, mind you.” You corrected him, huffing.

“Please, Younghyun… Not today, of all days…”

A lightbulb flashed above the baker’s head. “Ah, you’re right! How could I forget?” He smacked his palm against his forehead. Darn it, his memory was getting worse – he really was getting old. “Y/N, look, I’m really sorry, but Wonpil has to have it. It’s his birthday today.”

At that, the fight in you dissipated. You let go of your iron grip on the tray, and handed it over to Wonpil. Sure, you loved your desserts, but at least you had morals. “Oh. In which case, here you go. I’ll have something else.” 

“Oh, thank you, Y/N! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He set down the tray and engulfed you in a quick, yet tight hug. You froze, not knowing what to do with your hands, and simply settled into his tight embrace and the lingering floral and earthy scent on his clothes. 

Younghyun cleared his throat from behind the counter. Wonpil immediately let you go. “No PDA in here, please, for the sake of the customers.” He looked like he was a school teacher ready to reprimand delinquents. “Wonpil, I’m so sorry – it completely slipped my mind. I’ll bake a cake for you this weekend as an apology.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, hyung.” The birthday boy’s mood took a 180 degree turn as soon as he’d laid claim on his beloved strawberry cake. “This is more than enough. Besides, you’ve given me the honour of decorating your bakery with my floral arrangements for the past few years. That alone makes me indebted to you.” 

“No, I insist. I’ll bring it over to Sungjin’s so we can all celebrate. Oh, Y/N!” The baker turns to you. “You said you’ve been having trouble making friends, right? Why don’t you come over to Sungjin’s place this Sunday? We’re having a casual get-together to celebrate Wonpil’s birthday.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Wonpil whispered to you. “It’s really just an excuse to get the band back together for a jam session.”

Younghyun sucked in his breath in an attempt to sound threatening. Wonpil remained unfazed by his antics. “Don’t spread lies.”

“Younghyun really wants the band back together.” Wonpil added.

“I just miss you guys! Adulting is hard, and our band days were so carefree. We were so youthful back then…” He said wistfully.

“You still are! Haven’t you heard, thirty is the new twenty!” You added, trying to comfort your friend. You were grateful for the topic change, especially since you could feel your cheeks tingling with warmth at the mention of your recent woes. Alas, the difficulty of making friends as an adult. “But yes, count me in! I’d love to come!”

//

That night, as you tucked into your custard cream bun with immeasurable glee, you recounted the conversation at the bakery.

Kang Younghyun was your longtime friend; an indispensable part of your childhood. The moment you stepped through the classroom doors and laid eyes on his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle backpack, pencil case and lunchbox, you knew you were destined to be best friends. The two of you stuck together through thick and thin – from crying next to each other as your mothers dropped you off at kindergarten, to comforting each other with liquor and video games after yet another teenage heartbreak, all the way to supporting each other to chase your dreams. You had his back and helped him stand his ground against his parents when he told them he wanted to carry on his grandmother’s legacy of running the town’s bakery, rather than furthering his studies. In return, he cheered you on from the sidelines as you sat your parents down and broke the news that you were moving out of your little town to the big city, with grand plans to make it big in the interior designing world.

Little did you know that ten years after that conversation, and many, many tears later, you would wind up back in the place you once called home. 

For most of your 20s, you fought tooth and nail to break into the industry. As a country native and a woman, the odds were stacked against you from the very beginning. Yet, you were relentless and determined, vowing to fight hard for your dreams. Your hard work brought you to dizzying heights – from starting as a graduate at the country’s number one interior designing firm, you rose all the way to the top, eventually flying out to cities near and far to present your work at conferences, and learn from other cultures as well. 

All the travelling and the adventures were surreal – it felt almost too good to be true, and at times, you had to pinch yourself; to remind yourself that this was the life you were living, the life that you fought so hard to have. 

And yet, when you came back to your hotel after yet another client meeting, and watched the New Year fireworks from the vantage point of your executive suite, you felt a deep pang in your heart. You had never felt as profoundly alone as when you were sitting on your bed, still donned in your business suit, looking down at the crowds on Victoria Harbour as they enjoyed Hong Kong’s fireworks and light show extravaganza. No amount of milk tea, dimsum or beef noodles could fill the gaping hole in your soul.

The truth hit you like a ton of bricks – the world was filled with endless wonders, and you had no one else to explore them with.

So, after a decade of floating through cities with unknown faces and unfamiliar street signs, you drifted back to where it all began – your hometown.

It was a small coastal city, once the centre of trade thanks to its huge ports, but now a sleepy seaside town that benefited from domestic tourism and the occasional tour bus. Most things existed singularly – there was one post office, one hair salon, one bakery, one florist, one grocery store, and so on.

You thought you would get bored, unaccustomed to the slow pace of life. But you fully embraced slow living. In the first month, you soothed your tired soul by spending hours strolling by the beach, shovelling snow from your driveway, reading with a cup of warm beverage, catching up on shows, and eating home cooked food. 

In the second month, you began your research. You started making plans for your own interior designing business, hoping to transform the spaces and businesses in your hometown.

In the third month, you set your plan to action. You rented out a small office space, gathered old contacts, and slowly started building your clientele. 

The months passed in that way. Winter turned into spring, and you felt your energy being replenished, little by little, one bowl of rice at a time.

But it was still awfully lonely. As much as you hated working late nights, the sense of camaraderie with your fellow team members and the jokes told over boxes of takeout made you miss your previous life. At times, your fingers hovered over the “Call” button, wondering whether it was appropriate to call your former work besties for something as simple as a leisurely chat (you always held yourself back). You even missed the times you spent after work wandering aimlessly across the city, getting lost amongst the crowd of office workers rushing home to their dinner dates or their families. As lonely as it sounded, being in a place with lots of people reaffirmed your sense of self. It made you feel like you were a part of something bigger than yourself.

Which is why you really wanted to make an effort with Younghyun’s friends. You knew that he joined a band after you moved to Seoul, thanks to his consistent spamming of rehearsal videos on KakaoTalk. You had practically memorised their voices by now, along with the little quirks they each had when playing their respective instruments. Perhaps this was odd, but you had been friends with Younghyun for so long now that it seemed like a no-brainer to you – what was his, was also yours. You had no doubt that despite never meeting his former bandmates, you would get along just fine.

One bandmate in particular, caught your eye. You could never seem to tear your attention away from their soft-spoken keyboardist. He appeared to be a man of few words, always lingering in the corners, but when he opened his mouth to sing, you swore the gates of heaven opened up to welcome you. You spent one too many nights in your early adult years comforted by his soothing voice and the way his fingers smoothly glided across his beloved instrument.

As you sipped on your chamomile tea, you pondered over how you could contribute to the birthday party. Younghyun had mentioned it was a casual get-together, but given it was a party after all, a little bit of decor wouldn’t hurt, right?

//

Wonpil arrived at Sungjin’s right on time.

“Y/N?” He was sporting an oversized grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were painted in green and brown stains. You figured he’d come straight from work.

You got up from your crouched position on Sungjin’s doorstep. “Wonpil!” You greeted him warmly, pulling him into a hug, as though you were lifelong friends, and not mutual friends who recently reconnected in the past six months. 

He stiffened in your hold, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu wash over you at the way your roles were reversed. After a moment of hesitation, his arms came around to pat your back, awkwardly. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” You pulled back, flashing him an excited smile to conceal your slight nervousness. Besides, you thought to yourself, I really hope you’ll like what I planned for you. “Younghyun and I go way back – so any friend of Younghyun is a friend of mine.”

“Likewise,” Wonpil responded with a tight-lipped smile. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” You quickly produced a party hat from behind your back and placed it on Wonpil’s head, your fingers tingling as they grazed the soft skin of his chin. 

The two of you made your way through Sungjin’s gigantic house to the backyard. It was eerily quiet, and all Wonpil could hear was his own heartbeat thundering between his ears. Being this close to you was certainly not great for his health. He racked his brains for something half-intelligent to say, but couldn’t come up with anything. Over and over, his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. 

“They’re in the backyard.” You explained, hoping to cut through the silence, yet your voice was barely above a whisper. Being left alone with Wonpil made you more nervous than you initially imagined. 

He hummed. “Ah, right.” His voice echoed throughout the empty space, and your mind was immediately sent back through time. That voice that got you through those turbulent years away from home, was now the voice trailing just mere metres behind you. 

“Are you ready?”

His brows scrunched in confusion. For what – ?

With a click, you unlocked the glass door to the backyard. Sungjin’s parents loved gardening, so when they built the house, they purposely left a huge amount of space for a garden and expansive backyard. Wonpil had been to his band guitarist’s place countless times after practice or just for hang outs, but he’d never seen it like this before.

The overarching trellises that led into the fountain at the centre of the garden were dressed in its best robes. Spring was right around the corner, and the purple wisterias were early this year. With the flowers in full bloom, and sparkling fairy lights dotted across the trellises, Wonpil had no idea where to look. He took a step slowly under the trellis, hoping to inspect the beautiful flowers more closely – he was a florist, after all. Instead, he found photos strung up at the ends of evenly spaced branches. 

His eyes glinted in wonder and awe as he took in the scenery unfolding before him. There were photos – some really old, and some new ones too. There was a photo of baby-him crying at his 100th day celebration, all dressed in his tiny hanbok, his sister standing above him with a toy in hand. There was another photo of six-year-old-him crying at the gates of his kindergarten, carrying a bag as big as his little body, his fist poised at his face to rub away the salty tears. There was one of him staring straight at the camera, his fingers grazing the keys of his father’s old piano. There were countless photos – one of him at his high school graduation, arms looped around Younghyun’s shoulders; one of him posing in front of the Seoul Arts Centre after watching the orchestra (he wouldn’t shut up about it for months); another of him and his family in Jeju; a photo of Wonpil in front of his shop on his first day as a florist, a snapshot of the band…

Speaking of the band…

“Wonpil!” Sungjin’s voice filtered through the garden as Dowoon began counting down with his drums. “Are you ready to have some fun tonight?”

The birthday boy couldn’t stop the laughter that rose to his throat. He laughed, but not before choking up in tears. Everywhere around him, he was surrounded by the precious memories of his life, as the band started playing a rock version of Happy Birthday. There were photos of him in his uni days, with that god-awful buzzcut. There were photos of him struggling through the initial years of starting up his florist business, where he lost one too many nights of sleep over numbers that refused to add up. But there were also photos of him by the beach, splashing water at his friends; his bandmates; his brothers. There were photos of them performing – whether it be in karaoke rooms or in front of an audience. 

The last photo was not one he recognised. Poised at the end of the walkway, was a two-picture collage. On the left, was a cropped photo of him standing around the birthday boy of the day, Younghyun, along with the rest of his classmates. It took awhile, but Wonpil remembered where it was from – Younghyun’s mother had brought in a strawberry cake to share with the class, and Wonpil had wanted to eat it so badly. He was so sad that he couldn’t stand in front of the cake for the picture that he burst into tears. 

On the right, was a much more recent picture. He didn’t remember posing for this one. It was a picture taken from Younghyun’s bakery, of his florist shop front. He was holding the strawberry cake that he took from you with one hand. With the other, he was gesturing at the bouquets on offer, helping a customer. In the photo, his eyes sparkled, and his smile was dazzling.

He wondered, did he always look like that?

Somehow, he knew to turn around. You were watching from a distance, trailing behind him. Your arms were crossed against your chest, a sheepish smile adorning your features. “Sorry, I swear I wasn’t stalking you, you just looked so happy that day.”

What can he say? Beauty really was in the eye of the beholder. “No, it’s fine.” He paused to sniffle, cheeks wet with tears. “You captured me perfectly.” 

//

After all of you devoured round after round of barbecued meat, the band settled into their positions and began to play. You watched on as their sole audience, clapping and whooping and singing along to every word, surprising not only the band but also yourself with your impressive memory. You sang your hearts out, you drank, you ate Wonpil’s favourite strawberry cake, and became well-acquainted to the band whose lyrics spoke straight to your heart.

You couldn’t have asked for a better night.

“Y/N?” He punctuated his words with a bright chord, probably a C major, if your ears served you right.

It was a little past midnight. Sungjin and Younghyun were doing the dishes in the kitchen. Dowoon had passed out on the couch half an hour ago after downing one too many shots of Kaoliang. That left just you, and Wonpil, out in the backyard, sitting under the stars.

You were a little buzzed, the level of tipsy that made you feel like you were floating on clouds. Wonpil, however, was a little more than tipsy, judging from the way his body vibrated at his burst of giggles.

“Yes, Wonpil?” You replied just to amuse him, watching him intently from your seat not too far away from his keyboard.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Another round of giggles ensued.

“What, the photos?” You decided to tease him a little. In all your years of knowing Kim Wonpil, you’d never seen him like this. “How do you know it wasn’t Younghyun or the others?”

He blew a raspberry with his lips. “Nonsense.” He shook his head so violently that you feared he’d fall off the edge of his seat. “All these years, they’d never do something so…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Romantic, for me.”

You blushed. Admittedly, when you brought up the idea to Younghyun, he’d given you one of his signature knowing looks, and asked further about your motives. You had to endure several rounds of intense questioning before he’d agreed to hand over his personal collection of Wonpil photos for you to look over and print out for decorations.

You had to admit, though, you had no idea how much your lives crossed until then. It was almost like you were two parallel lines – extremely close to each other, but never touching. Looking through all of the photos, it wasn’t hard for you to find yourself in the background, especially in those earlier years. Whether it was a shop that you used to frequent, or a park near your school, the backdrops of his photos were so familiar. As you flipped through the photo albums and watched Kim Wonpil grow older through the years, you felt something stirring within you. His smile, his tears, his expressions – they felt familiar to you. 

Wonpil paid your silence no mind. “You were my first customer, you know.”

“What?” Your eyes met his at this sudden revelation.

“2011, December 15. The day you left this place.”

You gasped audibly. You remembered, then. Your memories of that day came flooding back in a rush. It had been so difficult to convince your parents to let you go, and whilst your dad insisted on driving you to the train station, you couldn’t bear to look at their sorrowful faces as you left behind your old life.

Younghyun took you instead. He showed up at your doorstep characteristically late, which led to one too many punches and swear words being thrown around. Once you piled your suitcases into the back of his car, you swung the passenger door open, only to find a massive bouquet occupying the seat. 

“Younghyun? What is this?” You looked at him from across the driveway, shooting him a nasty glare. “Dude, I don’t like you like that! We’ve talked about this!”

Younghyun shoved a middle finger as he slammed the boot shut. “Please, don’t flatter yourself. Those aren’t from me.”

“What…? Then who are they from?”

Younghyun shrugged. “Secret admirer. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Yah! Kang Younghyun!”

“Wonpil…” The present you felt your eyes fill up with tears. “I never knew…”

The man laughed bitterly, looking down at his hands, unable to meet your eyes. “Perhaps it was for the best. I left a note to wish you good luck, but I never signed it. I was just…” He stared up into the dark night sky. All of a sudden, he could feel himself sobering up. “I was happy to watch you from afar.”

“Wonpil, I had no idea… If I did, I…”

“You what?” He looked at you, then. Eyes dark, filled with emotions you couldn’t name. Emotions too intense for you to put a finger on. “Y/N, like I said, it’s alright. If anything, it’s my fault for being a coward.”

You held his gaze, too lost in this moment; in him, to look away. You thought through your words very carefully, knowing that a single misstep would be less than desirable for all parties involved. “Well, how about now? Is thirty-one year old Wonpil brave enough?”

Wordlessly, Wonpil stood up and walked over to you. His hands met yours, beckoning you to rise, and he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame. You melted into his embrace, sighing in satisfaction at the warmth and comfort a simple hug from him granted you. Closing your eyes, you placed your ears against his chest, feeling and hearing the vibrations of his heartbeat. No doubt, it matched yours.

In the past week alone, Wonpil was a whole different person to you. Once your kindergarten classmate who loved to cry at any small inconvenience, to the vocalist and keyboardist of your favourite band, and now to the owner of the florist that you stopped by every week to pick up fresh flowers for your home. And yet, it was in the little moments you spent flicking through his photo albums that gave you a deeper understanding of Kim Wonpil. Not only did you find fragments of him in his past, but you also caught glimpses of what your life could look like with him in your future. The thought of being with Wonpil both excited and scared you. Could this be the comfort and familiarity you were looking for – a home, with Wonpil?

“Excuse me,” Younghyun cleared his throat. 

The two of you sprung apart in an instant. Your hands flew to cover your face and Wonpil shoved his deep into his pockets.

“If you’re both done being teenage lovebirds, can you please keep the chairs away? Oh, and don’t even think about sharing a bed. I’ll be watching you.” Younghyun stuck his two fingers towards his eyes, and then towards the two of you, for dramatic effect. “Both of you.”

“Shut up, Kang Younghyun!” The two of you groaned in unison.

[epilogue.]

“So, what do wisterias represent?” You asked Wonpil, fingers toying with his as you sat across from him in Younghyun’s bakery. It was his lunch break.

“Hmm, it depends on the colour. Purple is associated with romance, love and good luck. White symbolises new beginnings.”

“So, new love?” You mused.

“Actually, new love is probably better represented by purple lilacs – a budding romance. Why, is this a trick question?” Wonpil asked.

“Nope, just curious.”

“Guys, you know I exist, right?” Younghyun groans exasperatedly from behind the counter. “Can’t believe this is what I get for playing matchmaker…”

[dayfics]

Hi! 22 and 50 with Sungjin. Thank u ❤

Sungjin & 22. “Show me how much you missed me.” + 50. "Please, I can't sit still."

♡ Send me a request!

1.5k words

I couldn't resist writing reader w/ a praise kink. It fit well with the prompt, sorry! Also hereafter if you guys would like to specify who says the dialogue (in case I got it wrong, haha), I don't mind at all.

You were just about to fall asleep on the couch when you heard the front door of your apartment unlock – Sungjin was finally home. He'd been gone on a work trip for the last two weeks, and you'd whiled away the time trying to meet your deadlines, watching movies and texting him whenever the both of you were free. But in spite of regular contact, what you missed the most was his touch. The way he would put his arms around you when sitting together, feeling his warmth as you slept on your shared bed, and of course, the more intimate moments.

It'd been so long since you felt his fingers in you, or sucked him off, or even kissed him. Two weeks, yes – but when it came to Sungjin, even one day without his touch had you experiencing withdrawals.

So when he walked into the apartment, you jolted awake and ran over to give him a hug; he was dressed in a simple suit but you couldv'e sworn he had gotten more handsome in the past two weeks.

You relaxed completely as soon as you felt his arms around you, one of his hands coming to stroke your hair like it always did. You loved that little habit he had whenever he hugged you. "Hey, sweetheart," you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Sungjin, god, I missed you so much," you warbled into his chest, taking in his warmth, hugging him tighter.

"I know, I know, me too..." he cooed, closing the door with his foot for privacy.

After a minute or two, Sungjin kissed the top of your head as he tried to pull away, but you didn't move. You felt more than heard the deep chuckle that came from him, before he said, "I'm all yours, baby. Just let me freshen up and I'll be with you in five minutes."

You reluctantly let him go into the bathroom, knowing that he couldn't fully relax till he was clean. You could appreciate that about him.

After five agonising minutes, Sungjin emerged in all his wet-haired glory, wearing a loose shirt and shorts. It was embarrassing how turned on you were, but who could blame you? You watched as he shook a towel on his hair and put his used clothes in the laundry basket. You admired his legs and strong arms, the way his shirt spiked slightly as he dried his hair and, well, everything about him. He was so, so classically handsome, and you were beginning to crave him more and more.

He walked over to the sofa, where you were sitting, but you decided to stand up and meet him halfway instead, catching his amused face before you tiptoed to kiss him. Your hands roamed over his chest and torso, desperate to be closer to him. Sungjin held you by the waist, and the feeling of his hands on you, but not doing anything, was almost enough to make you cry of frustration. You whined helplessly against his lips, grabbing onto his arms.

The kisses grew more passionate, and his hands started to move along your back, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You were getting more worked up by the minute, and you could tell Sungjin was too, by the way he grunted against your lips. Soon enough you were breathless and reluctantly broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

He moved his hand to cup your face. "I missed you." he said again, looking into your eyes with so much love and admiration.

"I missed you more," you said, leaning into his touch. You took his other hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with his.

"Oh, yeah? Show me how much," he smirked.

You were mildly surprised, because you didn't see this playful side of Sungjin often in intimate moments. But you loved to please, so you promptly sunk to your knees in front of him. The slight raise of his eyebrow told you he was taken aback by your eagerness, and the way he looked at you intently was causing an almost unbearable throb between your legs.

You knew, though, that if you were good for him now, he'd be amazing to you later. So you ignored your needs for the time being, and instead slowly moved your hands up his thighs over his boxers. You pulled them down by the waistband, biting your lip as you immediately felt yourself get wetter when you saw his dick in front of you. Sungjin carded a hand through your hair with a lazy smirk on his face; he loved watching your reactions.

You started with a few strokes along his length before you took him in your mouth. He let out a low groan. "Fuck, you feel so good," he said in a tone that made you squeeze your thighs, desperate for some relief.

His grip in your hair tightened as he started to control your movements, picking up the pace. When you went as far down as you could, and your nose pressed against Sungjin's abdomen, he held you there for a bit, and you tried your best to relax your throat to take him in. "Ah, Y/N... you're so good for me, such a good girl."

You interlocked your fingers in an effort to control yourself; to have him praise you like this after what felt like forever was almost torturous. You started to tear up a little as his movements sped up, your eyes fluttering shut as Sungjin continued to guide you on his dick. "Look at me," he commanded, and you glanced up at him through your eyelashes to his handsome face, damp hair falling on his forehead. "Lean back baby, let me fuck your mouth, can you do that for me?"

Of course you could. You loved being good for him, even now, even though you were so desperate to feel him you could cry. You sat back on your heels. Your immediate obedience was intoxicating to Sungjin, you were so eager to please him. "God, you're an angel," he murmured almost to himself; you looked so sweet in this moment, even though his dick was in your mouth. "Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

He bunched up your hair to have better control of you before he thrusted into your mouth, starting slow so he didn't hurt you. You tried your best to keep your eyes open, the view too erotic to miss: Sungjin's head slightly tilted backwards, his mouth occasionally leaving a shaky breath, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. Your knuckles were white from the effort it took to stay still — your panties were soaking at this point and it was obvious how needy you were.

You could tell he was close by his grip on your hair and the soft moans he let out. The sight and sounds in front of you were so sinfully pleasing you almost couldn’t bear it — Sungjin was fucking hot.

He picked up the pace for a time before asking, “Can I cum in your mouth, sweetheart?”, the nickname wildly contradictory to what he was doing with you. You moaned around his dick, which he took as a yes and which brought him to his orgasm.

You swallowed without him asking, which he swore could’ve made him cum again untouched. He tilted your chin to look up at him, moving some stray hair from your face. Sungjin always made an effort to be gentle with you, especially after rougher moments like these.

“You were so good, baby,” he smiled down at you, “do you want anything else? Hm? Let me make you feel good.”

You looked so beautiful with your slightly disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, sitting down and looking up at him with teary eyes. Wait, teary?

On realising you were crying, Sungjin immediately knelt down with concern on his face. He brought his other hand to your face and gently wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“Are you okay, darling? Was I too rough? I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“Please fuck me, Sungjin…”

“…What?”

Your emotions were all over the place, and Sungjin’s clear shock made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. More of the crying though, because you wanted him so bad it was unbearable.

“Need you to fuck me, please, I can't sit still, missed you so much,” you rambled through small sobs, not even caring about how desperate you sounded. It was all true, anyway.

Sungjin closed his eyes with a small chuckle, relieved that he didn’t hurt you. He wondered what incredibly noble thing he might’ve done in another life to deserve someone like you in this one. Saved a country, maybe? “You,” he said, hands moving to hold yours, “are going to be the death of me.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby, don’t worry.”

[amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix]

there you'll be || day6 [psj]

Warnings: major character death, heavy angst(?)

I won't control you, but MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. This is not for you, please.

Pairings: Park Sungjin/(F) Reader, implied past Yoon Dowoon/(F) Reader

Plot: What if you only have today to say goodbye?

Genre: Established Relationship

I keep a part of you with me,

And everywhere I am, there you'll be

This was written 8-9ish years ago, and re-written and posted on ao3 3 years ago.

This concept came from my sister's dream, and she asked me to write it, and probably the main reason why i decided to have an ao3 account lmao

This was originally written with a different fandom and pairing and was supposed to be a part of this fic universe i wrote (but didn't finish). Re-written so it can be better, I guess (hope)??? but the concept is still the same with some major changes tho

Reposted here because there is a tragic lack of day6/reader fics uwu

anyway, all readers are appreciated! luvluv

🕛

6:00 – 7:00 a.m.

Y/N woke up to an irritating sound. It was this shrill beeping sound that made her want to hurl the object at the wall.

When she opened her eyes, she reached for the alarm clock and turned it off. "Shut up," she said, exhausted, and looked at the time. 6:00 am.

For an ordinary Saturday morning, six am is way too early. After dropping out of the university from her second course and running away with Sungjin, Y/N's life has changed; from the simplest things like her sleeping pattern to the biggest ones like missing her family. She wouldn't say she regrets it, she just wishes the situation was different.

Her usual weekends start at nine, and she always wakes up before Sungjin does. She would often be the one to go down to make breakfast for the two of them.

Sometimes though, when struck with an ahem inspiration, she would wake him with a lazy hand job—or a blowie, whichever she prefers—until he slightly shifts position and fist the bed covers. Slowly peppering his hips with kisses until Sungjin groans in annoyance to whichever is rousing him from his beloved, peaceful sleep. Y/N has to stifle her laughter because she knows just how grumpy he is when woken up 'too early', but how he won't be able to stay mad at her. He'd smile down at her and say in that sexy just-woke-up voice of his that he'd go back to sleep so Y/N can go ahead with what shennanigans she was trying to do.

Today though, that was not the case. She has to get up early because the local high school she volunteers at made a weekend program for writing and music. Every second Saturday, she would be facilitating two classes; a writing workshop in the morning, and the music sessions in the afternoon. Sometimes, she would take Sungjin with her, and he would teach the students how to play the guitar.

After switching the alarm off, Y/N got up and stretched her legs and arms, loving the way her joints popped as sleep from her muscles fade.

It's also during this time of the day, however, that she can't help but think of her life before this.

It has been five years. Y/N is sure her children doesn't recognize her anymore. After running away with the boyfriend of her ex-husband's twin brother, she's sure Dowoon would never let her be a part of their children's lives anymore, no matter how much he used to love her. Betrayal would definitely kill people.

Y/N padded sleepily to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

After getting ready for the day, she went down to cook some breakfast for them. Before leaving the house, she decides to check on Sungjin and wake him up early for his doctor's appointment. He sleeps through the alarm, and might miss his appointment.

She opens the door to their room quietly and see Sungjin's still sleeping form on the bed. She gently shakes him, just enough to wake him up.

"Sungjin?" She shakes him again when he doesn't respond. "Babe? Wake up."

Sungjin hums, cracking an eye open. "I'd be going," she says with a soft smile.

"Hmf... don't you want me to go with you?" He asks sleepily as he rubs his eyes. Y/N shakes her head, running her fingers through his hair.

"It's fine. You have your appointment today with Dr. Park, remember? Wouldn't wanna miss that." Sungjin pouts, and she smiles. "I'll bring home that Kimchi stew you like."

"Yeah?" He smiles at her hopefully through bleary eyes.

"Yes. So get your lazy ass up now, or you'll have to rush again." She slaps his bum and kisses his lips before she stands up. "I'll be home early. Get up now, 'kay? Love you." She shuts the door to the bedroom just in time to hear the faint and almost muffled love you too from Sungjin.

She leaves the house minutes later, not helping the smile on her face. She thinks that at the end of the day, after all the heartbreaks and challenges they had to face, running away with him is always worth it.

9:40 am

Y/N gives the students their second writing exercise for the day. She walks around the room and smiles down at Charlie, one of her favorite students in the writing program. The kid is really talented in writing.

Y/N wonders fleetingly about her twins. She wonders if they will inherit their father's love for music books, or her love for long novels? She puts her arm around the other and smiles to herself. She wants to see her children badly and maybe, just maybe, have some with Sungjin in the future.

10:30 am

Y/N was just about to tell her students to take a 15-minute break when she heard a commotion outside. One of the teachers ran up to her classroom with panic in her eyes. Y/N immediately knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" she asked.

"There's someone with a gun!" It took Y/N a minute to fully get that. "He's in the building. Send your students out."

She didn't need to be told twice. "Class, I need you to leave everything behind and quickly exit the room." She tried to keep her voice even so as not to alarm them. She didn't want them panicking, even though she felt like throwing up.

"Now!" She hoped her students can forgive her for raising her voice (she never does), but now's not the right time to think about that. Both teachers looked out while the students filed out of the room hurriedly.

"Did someone call 911?" she asked as the last student got out of the room. The other teacher's answer was cut short by the sound of gunfire, followed by screaming.

"Go, go, go!" Y/N yelled at the students as they all ran towards the direction of the stairs.

Y/N was nearing the stairs when pain blooms in her shoulder. She didn't dare look back as a second one hits her back, then her leg. That's when she lost her balance, and crumple to the ground face down. She heard more screaming as students ran for their lives before she felt the bullet to her neck, and she's—

12:00 pm

Y/N raises her head from the table with a gasp.

Disoriented, she looks around and blinks. She doesn't know she had been snoozing. Had she been snoozing? It feels like she had only blinked.

Huh.

She looks at the clock; 12:00 pm.

She hears the chatter of the students outside as she sees the essay exercises on her table. When she looks up, however, the classroom is a mess. The students' things are everywhere, and the chairs are all askew.

She remembers the panic and running, but nothing else. What happened after that?

She tries to recall as she flexes her head, pressing lightly at the pain in her neck. Not being able to come up with anything from her bizarre dream(?), she starts to clean up the mess.

1:08 pm

Y/N had successfully cleaned up the messy classroom by herself. She didn't notice that there were no students on the floor anymore. She slung her bag to her back and locked up the classroom.

It wasn't until she reached the second floor that she saw another soul. It was, however, a police officer.

What the...?

She walked towards the man, and called out to him.

"Excuse me?" He didn't seem to notice her. She called out to him again to no avail, the police turning his back on her.

"What the fuck?" Bothered, she continued down to the ground floor, where she saw more police officers.

She tried to talk to another police officer, but she was still ignored. She was getting frustrated and weirded out with each passing second. It's like they cannot see her. She didn't understand what's happening and felt her head spin, eyes prickling with tears of confusion.

She looked around, and finally, one person seemed to see her. The lady was looking straight at her. Relieved, Y/N walked towards her; she didn't know why, but she felt compelled to talk to her.

When she was close to the lady, she tripped a little on her own feet. She looked down and when she looked back up, the lady vanished.

"Looking for me?"

Y/N spun around to reveal the lady that had been staring at her.

"Yes..." Y/N said, torn between feeling embarrassed and confused. "But, you're there before. How...?"

The lady smiled at her. "You have more important questions to be answered, don't you think?" Y/N, who was dumbfounded, had just managed to nod.

"Come with me," the lady said. She turned around and started walking away, not waiting for Y/N to respond.

1:45 pm

Y/N cannot believe her eyes. She, or more accurately, her body, has been lying on a body bag in the quadrangle.

"B-but... h-how...?" She can only stammer in confusion.

This is just not possible. Y/N tries to breathe in and out to stop the spinning of her head, clutching her hands in each other.

She finally turns to the lady beside her, who is still staring at her lifeless body.

"You got killed," she answers Y/N's unspoken obvious question. "You're one of the last people he'd managed to kill before he was taken down by the police."

When the lady points at the bullet hole on her neck, a picture flashes through her mind.

Y/N remembers the pain through her shoulder, then her back and leg. Lastly, she remembers the blinding pain on her neck after falling to the ground.

After long minutes of disbelief, Y/N finds it in her to finally speak, her voice hoarse from the brimming emotions in her eyes. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

She badly wants to believe that maybe she was really just dreaming. Maybe this is all just a practical joke. By whom, she doesn't know.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Her companion just shakes her head. "I'm so sorry."

That was the last straw for Y/N. Tears pour from her eyes as her world comes crashing down and her dreams shatter. She falls to her knees as she sobs her heart out.

She isn't ready to die yet.

Maybe this is payback for everything she did, for everyone she killed.

Sungjin.

How is he supposed to move on? How is she supposed to move on?

"Sungjin." She sniffs. "Don't I even have the chance to say goodbye? I wanna say goodbye to him."

"You only have until before midnight," the lady says.

"Thank you," Y/N replies.

The lady just smiles at her sadly, her eyes telling her that she understands how she feels. She wonders briefly if they had been in the same situation. The lady vanishes right before her eyes, leaving Y/N with a broken heart.

2:50 pm

She looks for Sungjin at the clinic, but he was not there. She goes home and he was there, sleeping soundly on the sofa. His arm has a band-aid, for his tetanus jab.

Sungjin hates getting shots the most. Y/N knows he hates hospitals and injections, and has a big mistrust with the institution, and it makes her chest swell with love for him.

It makes her heart shatter, though. It's so hard to leave and say goodbye to someone you had forsaken your world for, especially when you're starting to think that everything is turning out fine. She was just starting to build her world with him, planning their future and thinking of having kids.

Sungjin looks so peaceful and beautiful, having no care in the world that Y/N just wants to frame this moment. She knows she can't, so she'll just watch over him for as long as she can. Maybe it will last longer than taking a picture, or maybe it can stop the time. If not, then she can at least keep this picture embedded in her mind before she disappears forever.

3:38 pm

Sungjin shifts from his position, rubbing his eyes and yawning on his hands. Y/N wipes her eyes with the back of her hand so he won't see the tears that had been steadily streaming down her face for the past hour. His eyes find her, and smiles that beautiful smile she fell in love with.

It sends her heart skidding on the floor, and to splinter a little more at the thought of leaving him. She bites her lip to keep the tears from falling further, and smiles back at him.

"Hey," she says, barely keeping her voice steady.

"Hey," Sungjin smiles at hear again, but his smile crumples when he takes in her bloodshot eyes and runny nose. He shoots up and engulfs her in a tight hug.

It was the wrong thing to do as Y/N loses it again, tears escaping down her cheeks. He rubs her back soothingly.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Are you okay?"

"I love you. Please never ever forget that," is all she can say.

"And I love you more." Sungjin pulls away and cups her face into his hands. "Now tell me what's wrong—and don't you try to lie. I know you so well."

She debates telling him because he deserves the truth, but she can't find the right words to say. "I'm fine," she sniffs and shakes her head. "I'm okay."

"You're definitely not okay." He pulls away and holds her arms. He frowns when he notices her body's dropped temperature. "Where have you been? You're awfully cold!"

"I'm fine. School's let out early." Y/N sits up straight and smiles, wiping at her tears. "Did you—have you seen the news?"

Y/N is nervous to ask that, but she has to know. She knows he would be shattered when he knows that he's talking to a ghost. Technically, Sungjin can still touch her, but she's already a ghost.

She also can't forgive herself for breaking their promise of forever.

"Not yet," Sungjin says. "I was so tired and sleepy so I had to go straight home. But we can turn on the TV anyw—"

"No!" Y/N grips his hand, cutting him short of turning on the TV. She looks close to tears again that he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"No." Y/N composes herself with a fake smile to appease the surprised features on his face. "I'm just asking. I'm sorry for yelling."

"You're acting weird," Sungjin says.

Y/N puts on her best I'm-okay face and smiles at him. "I'm okay. I just had a snooze at work and I had a bad dream."

I wish this was all just a bad dream.

"I just want to make sure you don't forget I love you, you know? Despite everything that happened to us." She looks down and smiles sadly. "I'm sorry I made you worry for nothing."

Sungjin pouts, but pulls her into another hug. "It's fine, babe. I just love you more and more every second because you're the only person who loved me truly, and never left me."

Y/N's heart can't get any more broken.

5:55 pm

For the past few hours, Y/N and Sungjin were just curled up on the loveseat. They were watching a sappy romcom that seemed to mock her in the face as it was about leaving a loved one behind and coming back for them. On the other hand, it's a good reason for her to cry her eyes out without raising suspicion, safe and snug under Sungjin's arms.

Too bad, the peace doesn't last forever.

7:40 pm

Y/N is currently waiting for Sungjin to come back. She originally opposed to the idea because she has a bad feeling about it, but he said that he needs to get some food (since Y/N forgot to bring home some). It has already been an hour since he went out, and the store was only a 15-minute walk—five if you use a car.

What is taking him so long?

8:20 pm - 9:45 pm

Y/N was just about to go looking for Sungjin when the front door opens and shuts with a slam. Next came the heavy footsteps that sounded urgent and almost running.

Y/N stands up and was about to see if it was him (who else would it be?), when he comes running into the living room. He was panting and has a disheveled appearance, eyes puffy with the evident tear-stained tracks in his face.

Shit.

"Sungjin...?" Y/N steps forward, but Sungjin steps backwards. "Babe...?"

"Who are you?" he asks as he tilts his head to the side, an incredulous, almost crazed look in his eyes.

"What?" she asks, knowing fully well what is going on. "It's me, Y/N! What kind of stupid sh—"

"You're NOT Y/N!" Sungjin almost yells. He walks towards her and shakes her by her shoulders. "Who are you? What did you do to her?"

"Babe, it's me!"

"No!" He lets go of her and walks to the other side of the room, his back against her. He turns around, and he has tears in his eyes. "You're not her."

"I am!" she cries out, but he refuses to listen. His mouth is curled in an angry sneer. "I know it sounds absurd, but I came back for you... to say goodbye."

"How can I believe that, huh?" he laughs, but there is no humor in his voice. "Ghosts are not real, whoever you are."

Oh.

"How can you expect me to believe what you were saying?" he asks, but she can't give him an answer. "Answer me!" he screams when she stays silent.

Y/N suddenly feels tired. Heartbroken.

"I love you," she says instead. She looks down at her hands, and see that she is starting to fade as time passes by.

Sungjin laughs a ruthless laugh, not noticing the change in her, and it breaks her heart even more. She can't find it in herself to cry, mainly because she's already cried out as heck, and it's not like it will change anything.

"Just stay away from me," Sungjin says, face taut with anger. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Y/N can only nod. She debates reaching out to touch him, but backs out at the last second. She leaves her coat by the door, and gets out into the cold night.

She's already cold, anyway.

11:15 pm

Y/N begins to think about how her life has been and thinks how far she'd come. She's pretty proud of herself for coming this far.

She would want to say goodbye to her kids and to Dowoon as well, but it's not like that's in the cards right now.

She looks at her wristwatch, the one Sungjin gifted her for her birthday.

11:15 pm.

Right, 45 minutes left.

It's funny how she can't cry anymore, probably because she's past the sixth stage of grief. She thinks she had already accepted that she will be gone by midnight, and crying makes no sense at this point. It's not like it'll bring her back, or bring Sungjin back.

Speaking of which, she looks to her left and there Sungjin is at the other side of the park. She's pretty sure he hasn't seen her yet, so she stands up and keep her head down.

She walks toward a more secluded part of the park, not risking a glance back at him. She doesn't want to fight with him again. She'd rather go quietly without an affair, than have a big blow up with Sungjin. After all, this what she's good at; running away.

"Y/N!"

Ah, shit.

Y/N tries to walk faster without seeming like she was running away from him. If she runs away, he'll know she heard him. Y/N walks on, chanting a nopenopenope in her head.

Nope, indeed.

Nearly there.

"Y/N, please," Sungjin says, sounding out of breath and too near. "Wait."

Just keep yourself together.

"Y/N!" Sungjin grabs her wrist, spinning her around.

Her gaze lands on her wrist, and she sees that she was fading away fast. She pulls her hand back to her fast, careful not to draw attention to it. Too late though, because Sungjin's eyes are drawn to it.

She pulls the sweater's sleeve to cover her wrist and clear her throat. "Yeah." She laughs awkwardly. "Sorry 'bout that."

"It's true, then." Sungjin's face crumple. He looks younger, almost like a kid. "I was hoping it was just delirium from the shots."

She laughs quietly. "You don't get delirious from shots."

Silence.

Y/N takes a deep breath, and smiles like her heart's not on fire. "I'll be going."

"Where?" he asks in a small voice.

She shrugs. "Hell, maybe?"

That turns out to be the wrong thing to say, because Sungjin bursts into tears a few moments later.

No, no, no.

"I'm sorry," she says as she takes a step towards him. She suddenly stops, him asking her to stay away still ringing in her ears.

"I'm sorry," even though she doesn't know if she's saying sorry for the joke or for ruining his life. "Sorry."

"I was hoping—" he says as he hiccups, wiping at his tears. "I was hoping this was all just a practical joke."

Y/N smiles sadly, still keeping her distance. She badly wants to pull him into a hug, but she can't.

"Do you regret it?" she asks him after a minute of silence. He looks at her and it breaks her heart, but she just can't bear not knowing before leaving. "Do you regret choosing me?"

"No," he insists, shaking his head. "Never."

She nods with a small smile. Me, too.

"Thank you," she says. "That's all I need to know."

She turns toward the other side of the park, but he walks in front of her and blocks her way.

"Don't go," he begs almost desperately. He kneels in front of her and hugs her legs, still crying like a kid. "Please just take me with you."

"Sungjin..."

"Please," he cries harder. "Please please please."

Y/N unwraps his arms around her legs, and kneels with him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Please don't leave me," he cries on her sweater. "You're all I have."

11:55 pm

Five minutes.

They spent the last almost-hour talking and crying. They reminisced about everything, and Y/N apologized, mostly. Everything she failed to say, and failed to make him feel. She spared nothing.

She looks at her wristwatch. 11:55 pm.

Her hands are almost transparent at this point.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't able to keep my promise" she says, taking Sungjin's hand in hers. "I mean it when I said I love you, and I want you to be happy—"

"—I can't be," Sungjin replies. At least he had stopped crying, but it looks like he was about to again.

Three minutes.

"Close your eyes, babe." He does, and she kisses his lips one last time.

"I'm gonna miss you," she says. "I'll wait for you, okay?"

"I won't take long." Sungjin's voice is quivering.

One minute.

"I love you." Her skin starts to glow while she was speaking, her body flowing like ashes in the wind and drifting upwards.

"I love you, too," Sungjin says.

When he opens his eyes, he was alone on the park bench.

He stays there for a long time, wishing she heard him.

She did, and she carried his love with her to the dark skies.

fin

[wonwon06]

made a little something with my favorite songs :)

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Today is a different day… at least for me

I feel a little different…it feels new….it feels good

My confidence has defiantly heightened for sure

I got a power in my walk and people are looking at me different

Especially you….

I honestly don’t care what people think right now

I feel like I’m at my ultimate high and who I am is all that matters

But what do you think…..

Your stares are different from the crowd

What does that mean?

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Author's Note: I hope you like it! I have tons of these that I can make hopefully it sounds good.

[rommwnpl13]

i love him he's so cute i need to hug him 😖