#by:jiae
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12:15 am | kyh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: 12:15am
pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you
genre: fluff, small caps
words: 2.4k
author’s note: extra fic for tonight, just all around fluffy bf!yonk getting a call from his drunk s/o in the middle of the night. do enjoy.
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
younghyun loves the grind. but if there’s anything else that he looks forward to during a hard and long day of working, it’s the feeling of coming home once he’s done. he makes sure to take off his shoes with as less noise as possible, knowing the fact that his roommates slash bandmates are enjoying their sleeping hours of peace and solitude.
with just a loose shirt and boxers on, he finally feels less restricted and more comfortable in his own skin. the urge to clean himself of sweat, and polluted air that had clung on him with a nice, hot shower is tempting— but the exhaustion in his heavy shoulders and drooping eyelids convince him otherwise.
he’ll hate himself for dirtying his sheets, but tomorrow is sunday which means it’s time to do his laundry, anyway.
tossing his used clothes in the hamper, he prepares his body to get swallowed by the softness of his comforter, and the warm void of his thick blankets. of course, before he passes out entirely tonight, he doesn’t forget to send you a text. the one important thing he shouldn’t miss out on.
really tired. gonna crash in 2 seconds. text you tmr, love you
usually, younghyun would wait until you respond because the many heart emojis that come his way act as his goodnight kiss while the two of you are apart. besides, you normally reply in an instant which is a habit he’s worried about, really, since you need some rest too.
he tries to fight the sleepiness away from his senses, but the more he sits on his bed, back hunched and ready to collapse, the less energy he has left to wait for your message. he frowns, suddenly wondering about your whereabouts. you always tell him first hand if you’re too busy to check your phone throughout the day, and younghyun appreciates the thoughtfulness. even if he couldn’t reply “okay” right away, the two of you have a shared sense of understanding as to how your kind of long distance relationship works by now.
sighing, he eventually puts his phone on the bedside table and plops himself in the covers. it feels really, really good to be in his own personal space now, and younghyun thinks he deserves to rest longer than normal tonight; it was a pretty productive day in the studio. he finished another collab with an artist he’s been meaning to contact for months, and he was glad it came to fruition with great success. he also managed to write a few arrangements for the band’s upcoming album, even if the group decided it was too early to work on it yet.
younghyun believes it’s never too early as long as inspiration is present. if he didn’t so much as write down possible lyrics or harmonies on a piece of paper every day, he’d slowly feel his motivation being sucked out of him. if he was being honest, that was one of his worst fears as an artist, so every day is work for him, it just depends on how much he wants to get done in a day.
as his thoughts fizzle out in his mind, his consciousness brings him to dreamland until a constant vibrating noise disrupts him from his end table. younghyun is about to pull the sheets over his head, thinking nothing of the sound but an annoying notification from something unimportant— but then he remembers you.
with his second guess being right, younghyun has a twinge of guilt in his throat for believing you were not worth it to get up from the coziness of his bed. rubbing his eyes to seem more awake, he picks up the call and greet you in a whisper.
“hi, baby, what’s up?” younghyun says, voice low and hoarse from multiple recordings in the studio.
“cheese,” you mumble on the other end, voice rather solid and awake which causes younghyun to perk up a bit.
“what was that?”
“cheeeeese, brian,” you slur, elongating the repeated word as well as saying it in a higher pitch. immediately, younghyun senses the somewhat incoherent mumble in your nevertheless pretty voice, and judging from the fact you unironically called him by his english name, there was only one explanation: you’re drunk.
he finds himself smiling as he answers, “are you home, babe?” he wasn’t angry about you drinking, he does remember you telling him a few days ago that you might go out with friends but you weren’t sure when. maybe tonight was the night and you just forgot to remind him; no big deal.
“i think so?” you hiccup, followed by a soft chuckle. younghyun’s heart soars at the sound, and it pains him at the same time that he couldn’t be there to hold and take care of you. he leans against the headboard, making himself more comfortable as he listens to you ramble on.
“all i know is that— burp— it was wendy’s birthday… or was it her cousin? cause she was there too, and i never met her before and— oh my god, i don’t even remember her name i’m such a bad new friend— whatever, anyway, it was someone’s celebration and we bar hopped to a lot of places and it became really sweaty and loud and at one point i had a flamingo shot in my hand and and—”
“hold up, flamingo? you mean flaming?” younghyun interjects, chuckling at your jumbled up story. he imagines you shaking your head as you whine at him for interrupting you. “no, nooooo. it was red and fiery and there was a lot of smoke and i’m sure it represented the beautiful, long-legged bird called flemings.”
this time, younghyun couldn’t stop himself from choking out a laugh, and in turn you huff from the other end, and refuse to continue further.
“i’m sorry, go on. please, i’m interested with what happened after you took this mysterious shot that starts with an f.”
“are you sure you won’t laugh?” he hears you quip in a tiny, slurring voice, and it his chest tightens at the thought of making you go through this drunken state alone. younghyun cards through his hair in frustration towards himself, realizing how much he misses you in the moment. he doesn’t want you to stop talking, god if he can only see your lips move in person—
“i promise, babe. so, what happened next?”
“if you say so,” you mutter indignantly, but proceed with the story even though you’re unsure of where it’s going. “um, actually. that was it. i think i took everyone’s flamingo shots in their hands and next thing i remember, wendy or her cousin or whoever it was tucked me in bed and now i’m in the kitchen eating cheese.”
the string of words you had uttered made younghyun feel three emotions in succession: one, impressed that you were able to down more than one shot while he’s not there to monitor you; two, relieved that you confirmed your safety inside your apartment; and three, plain confusion as to why you didn’t stay in bed and instead, eating what you say is cheese while on the call with him.
“can we turn on the videocall?” he asks gently, and you hesitate.
“i don’t look cute right now…”
“you’re always cute. please?” he tries to sound convincing, knowing that you do get insecure when your face is flushed red from the alcohol. even still, he doesn’t tire from complimenting you otherwise.
“okay,” you relent, and younghyun’s heart skips a beat anticipating the sight of you on his phone. he turns on his camera, and he’s appalled at what he sees: daar under eyes, no make up on, and a face that describes weariness to a T. in this case, it should be him who feels insecure looking the way he is, but he’d take the risk if it meant seeing your face.
“hello? is this thing on??” after a few seconds of lag, your screen cleared up and younghyun watches you poke the camera repeatedly. “bri, it’s so dark in here am i even alive right now?”
you never fail to lift his mood up during an exhausting day of activities— as your schedules collide against each other, and there would be less time for moments like right now, younghyun only asks for a few texts sent his way as reassurance that you’re still with him. you always comply, and sometimes younghyun doesn’t get to uphold his side of the commitment during the rare days that he just want to shut off the world.
still, he’ll wake up from a text with your name on it, and the hearts he missed the night before. and he feels whole, and ready to take on the world again.
so this time, younghyun wants to make you feel heard— and seen, as these days work seems to occupy more of his time and burden him with the pressure of exceeding his own expectations. you don’t like seeing him worry about how he’s doing in the industry, so younghyun does his best to appear cheerful and curious in front of you— or his phone, at least.
“yes, you’re very much alive right now, babe. are you really eating cheese at this hour?” he shouldn’t have asked. it was obvious the thing in your hand was, in fact, string cheese being eaten in the most ungodly fashion, but it’s you— and younghyun would rather watch you bite into it, cringing inwardly, instead of passing out with another day longing for your presence.
“let’s eat cheese together,” you suggest, shoving the half-bitten string cheese into the center of the camera as if it was a mic being handed over to younghyun. “do you want to eat cheese with me, bri?” you ask again, tone small but hopeful. you put your hand down, and younghyun finally has a full view of your face.
you had taken your makeup off, judging from the bare skin and slightly smeared lipstick on the side of your lips. your hair was splayed out down your shoulders, a combination of curly and straight strands framing your beautiful face. he surmises you used a curling iron this morning, imagining the frustration on your facial features as you try to make it work.
“briannnn, cheese?”
younghyun focuses on the present, and he notices the glimmer in your eyes amidst the only light coming on your end was his screen’s brightness. he shakes his head slowly which causes you to pout.
“no thank you, baby, you can have it all.”
“but i saved some for you, right here. you get the other half. just like you’re my other half. hehe, get it?”
“yes, baby, that’s very sweet and clever of you.”
“you should hire me as your lyrics… manager. maker? lyrics person? lyricist!” you grin widely after figuring out the right term, and take another bite off the string cheese.
“i think you’re doing a great job at being my girlfriend, though,” younghyun tells you, and it takes a few seconds for those words to process until he hears the eventual whine, and covering of your face with your free hand.
“babe.” no response.
“baaabe.” you mumble something he couldn’t hear. younghyun takes in how adorable you are, and doesn’t pester you for a minute. this bothers you, apparently, as you peek through your fingers and catch him doing one of his silly faces that corners you to laugh abruptly.
“not fair!! you know that works every time,” you whine in defeat, and younghyun can only smile proudly in response.
“you know,” you start off, and younghyun prepares himself for another stream of consciousness on your end before you continue, “even if we’re far away from each other, and that we can’t eat cheese together, you’re still the best boyfriend in the entire galaxy.”
if there’s anything else that younghyun loves apart from the feeling of coming home after work, it’s the feeling of being loved by you.
he waits for you to finish your string cheese, and you argue that you’d like to eat another one. but it was getting late, and younghyun didn’t want to look even more tired on call, so he urges that you two fall asleep while the call goes on.
as he wiggles back inside the covers, he watches you struggle to get your whole body in the comfort of your blanket. his hand holds on the phone as he readies himself to sleep sideways.
“stupid blanket,” you mutter in annoyance, deciding to take one leg out of the warm sheets and at last, feel content on your bed.”that’s better,” you sigh, eyes falling asleep before younghyun.
“comfortable?”
“not really.”
“oh, why not?” younghyun asks.
“you’re not here beside me.” and your answer breaks his heart.
younghyun is pretty good at consoling you with his words at times when you need it, but you beat him to it this time.
“it’s okay though, younghyun, i can get by like this for now. i know—” you yawn in between, “you’re working super hard for the next comeback— actually, you work no matter what project you’re doing, babe. you’re insane, i hope you know that.”
it was younghyun’s turn to blush, and hide his face in the pillow. the drowsiness is making him soft, and weak from denying the truth in your words. he can definitely agree with a lot of people in his life that he needs to take it slow some days. and when it comes from you, he then knows to take that advice seriously.
“i do know that, baby.”
“it’s not bad, though!!” you object, zooming in to your eyes as if to let him know you’re saying it as a good thing. younghyun chuckles again, lifting his face up so he can witness your goofy antics once more.
“i think it’s… really badass. you go younghyun,” you yawn again, dropping the phone as sleep attempts to befall upon you. “sorry, my hand was getting numb.”
“that’s okay, go to sleep now.”
“no, you.”
“that’s literally what we’re trying to do, babe.”
he hears you snicker, and with that he felt it was okay to lay his phone next to him, too. he probably wouldn’t see your face in the morning on the call anymore as his phone wasn’t fully charged at all. however, as he hears you quietly snoring on the other end gives him a sense of security, and the status of his dead phone battery doesn’t matter so much for now.
“i love you,” he whispers into the night, eyes closing in, smile taking him to dreams where he can hold you tight.
“love you more, younghyun.”
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#day6 x reader#young k imagines#young k scenarios#young k x reader#young k au#brian kang imagines#brian kang scenarios#kang younghyun imagines#kang younghyun scenarios#by:jiae
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• certainty | kyh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: certainty
pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you
genre: FLUFF
words: 2.6k
author’s note: requested by @strxwberrifields :’) thank you so much for fueling the idea for this prompt. i think i strayed away a little, though, i’m sorry!
i hope it is still enjoyable.
also, youngk’s cover of when you love someone was playing while i wrote this, it helped set the mood a ton. (listen to it, you won’t regret it)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
there’s something about being in love
that you can’t put into definitive words
it’s so sickeningly cliche, you know that
there’s nothing more annoying than hearing
someone gush about their significant other
over and over and over— we get it! you’re in a relationship and it’s great and just
don’t rub it in, please
kidding aside
—you don’t think your relationship with younghyun is like that
if anything, you feel somewhat lacking in telling him how much you love the guy
dating a pretty famous bassist, idol, vocalist, business admin major—
scratch that. dating someone like younghyun is already out of the ordinary for you
and so you can’t help but feel… insecure, at times
or feeling left out from his idol circle and the fact that
you can never bring yourself to fully immerse in it like he does
you don’t blame him!! you never blame younghyun for who he is
it’s just a bizarre concept to find yourself even crossing paths with the now love of your life
for almost a year, might you add
the thought still sends goosebumps all over your skin
and a silly smile that gets you weird looks when you’re in public
man, if they knew who that smile was about
who your heart is for
they’d be jealous, duh
or judge you because—
you? with a guy like him? scoffs
you should get out of your head sometimes, it’s healthy (try it, please)
you’re good to younghyun, right? you think you are
a guy like him is smart enough to know what’s good for him… right?
STOP IT STOP you have a mission to do today
and that’s to bring the very same guy—
(plaguing your mind and disrupting the rhythm of your heartbeat every waking second)
—his lunch today
it’s just him in the studio; him and his bandmates have been doing their own thing for a few months now
which is a refreshing change of pace for everyone, you heard
but work is still work; and younghyun is recording yet another single to upload sometime soon
you’re excited, and jealous of how his mind works 24/7
but with that much thinking and execution comes a lot of hunger; and younghyun is not immune to not having an appetite
man’s stomach is the blackhole, anything that goes in there is nowhere to be found
(as if it never came in the first place)
you text him you’re by the entrance, and there’s a lot of typos
“hrre> i hv lunch. its heavy”
you know he won’t respond because there is no second wasted recording; you still do it, anyway
just in case
you’re greeted by a few people working in the bldg, some of them recognize you already which you’re still shy about
finally, you enter his studio, careful not to topple over the take out stuff you have in the bag
as expected, younghyun is inside the soundproof room where the ~*~magic~*~ happens, eyes closed and headphones on
immediately, your heart soars at the sight of him. it’s not a new thing for you to see him in his workspace
but it’s always a new feeling to watch how he lets the music flow in his presence
he can’t hear you but you’re careful in taking out bowls of ramen, broth, rice, and other side dishes on the coffee table. he’ll probably be done in a few minutes—
door opening louder than you anticipated
“you’re here!! and there’s FOOD,” younghyun exclaims, the headphones slung around his neck with the cord hanging in midair
you’re shook at his speed, but then again the one thing he loves the most is right in front of him
yep: food
you laugh, greet him with a kiss on the cheek (that warms your own face up, you’ll never get used to doing that) and let him know about his probably expensive headphones just dangling around
“eh who cares,” younghyun casually shrugs but you keep reprimanding him with an expectant look
“fine fine, i’ll put them down safely”
“good, have you eaten today?”
“yep but that was like an hour ago”
that’s younghyun for you, and you expected it. so you tell him to dig in
“it’s from the ramen place we tried a month ago, thought you’d want some soup since it’s getting colder”
his eyes light up like a kid opening his birthday present which he already knew what would be inside
“this is amazing, babe, thanks!” he reciprocates your kiss on the lips this time: short but sweet
you squeal, and temporarily feel calm and collected about his “approval”
you sit next to him, just watching him attack the noodles first, then slurping the broth with utmost grace (spoiler alert: he is chowing down like it’s his last meal)
and yet you’re falling so deeply in love again as you try to picture the image of him happily eating in your mind, framing it and keeping it stored there safely
“you’re not eating?” he asks in between bites of kaarage and takoyaki. it was practically a meal for three
you shake your head. “i ate before coming here” which wasn’t a lie, and he’d know if it was since he’d hear your stomach grumble
but that takoyaki sure looks tasty…
“wh—” younghyun shoves one right inside your mouth, chuckling as he watches you struggle to chew it so suddenly
“you know you wanted some,” he teases. pouting, you finish the takoyaki before trying to defend yourself
but younghyun had something else up his sleeve; or rather he grabs a tissue and dabs it on the side of your cheek
“someone was hungry,” he sing-songs, slanted eyes glinting with amusement
“you have the nerve to say that considering you finished a full course meal!” you sneer at him, feeling his gentleness as he wipes your cheek clean
you keep bantering back and forth like that; it’s natural, it’s what you like about your relationship
he finishes and it hasn’t even been an hour since you got here. someone can study this man’s digestive system and find new wonders of the human body in him
buuuut you kinda wanna keep younghyun to yourself for now— as much as you can, really, seeing as he’s an idol…
“that was sooo good,” he sighs, leaning back against the couch with one hand around your shoulders
you rest your head against his, cradling up to his warmth
he’s so cuddly when he’s just finished eating
not to mention
“zzz”
“younghyun, you have a song to record!” you shake him awake, and he’s not kidding either
the man just falls asleep!
“mm five minutes…” he dozes off, hugging you even closer to him. both arms around your frame this time
now that you’re face to face, you can clearly see the exhaustion smearing his perfect features
without make up on, his eyelids are veiny, there’s a shadow underneath them and his face just physically looks dull
the more he eases into you, the heavier his body feels sinking into the couch
and your heart sinks with it
younghyun works so incredibly hard— literally every single day, there is no stopping him from creating and doing and sometimes
you just want to tell him to slow down, pause for a moment
it makes your chest tighten, to think that younghyun thinks time is moving so fast for him
that he needs to accomplish so much before time runs out
you lift your hand up and card your fingers through his hair (he had it dyed black recently, and you’re all for it)
he hums in satisfaction and nuzzles his head against you even further
then, you move your hand over to his cheeks, tracing its height and going over the tip of his nose
boop
and steal kiss
he can really fall asleep like this, right next to you
you might doze off with him too
but, just like younghyun, true to his word—
he’s awake and back into recording mode less than ten minutes later
he stretches like a cat, and leaves you bewildered at the amount of energy he’s recharged himself with in such little time
“you give me energy, what can i say?”
“shut up”
he tries to clean up the empty bowls and used utensils, but you shoo the musician away
“go. work, i’ll handle this” he knows he can’t argue with you on that
it makes you feel useful to him, somehow, just doing these little things to accommodate for his lifestyle
you wonder if it’s enough
you spend the rest of the afternoon in the studio. while he records and edits and goes back to recording, you brought your laptop to do some work remotely
he lets you hear some of the recorded lines he’s done, and you nod your head all the time and say they sound perfect, they sound like him
he doesn’t really like that
“there’s bound to be something that’s missing. what else would you have liked to hear from this verse?”
he looks so serious, brows knitted, lips curled forward whenever he listens to himself in the audio
you feel bad; you don’t know much about music mixing and all that— plus you’re not lying when you say you like what you hear
but maybe in this area, there’s not much you can contribute in his life
and these are the moments when you think you fail as an equal partner
younghyun realizes the abrupt quiet in the air as you make yourself feel smaller than you do
“just a little more and i’ll be done for the day,” he tells you, patting your head reassuringly
you give him a meek nod, not meeting his eyes, and go back to some work
at least, you try. for distraction
he sounds disappointed— maybe you need to learn how to analyze beats and harmonies and such next time?
before you know it, younghyun finishes up and saves his progress
you’ve also fallen asleep a little there while sitting down on the floor, and your head on top of your laptop
“babe?”
when you wake up, the take-out bags are nowhere to be seen and your laptop is inside your messenger bag
“can i hang out at your place tonight?” younghyun asks, and you try to regain your senses
“yeah, yeah of course,” you say absent-mindedly, concerned thoughts swirling your consciousness
younghyun doesn’t bring a lot when he goes to the studio, he leaves the instruments in the room and only carries his phone and USB on him
upon exiting the place, he grabs hold of your bag and slings it on his arm
on the other, he invites your hand in his
you don’t say anything, still feel guilty for the incident a while ago, but accept his intertwining fingers
he squeezes yours tight, and gives you a slow, reassuring kiss on the cheek
“i’m sorry if i pressured you back there,” he apologizes firmly, looking at you straight in the eye
it’s a little intimidating, if you’re being honest
because when younghyun owns up to something— or even when he’s just determined about his words
he wants you to look at him, and see the truth in what he’s telling you
in retrospect, that’s how you fell in love
as that’s how younghyun confessed his own feelings
but now, he’s saying sorry for something you should be sorry for
before you even feel the tears well up, he has his hands cup your face, rubbing alongside your temples
the air is still outside, and there’s a faint noise of people chattering, walking, and existing in the world
but what you see is younghyun, and the way he presents you all of who he is at the moment
“it’s not you,” you start off the cliche, so you stop yourself
“i just feel like i don’t do anything…”
“anything?”
“in this relationship… that’s beneficial to you…” finally, words that explain some of your true, insecure feelings
you shut your eyes as tight as you can as to avoid confronting younghyun’s gaze
he’s quiet
probably mad
possibly about to break up with you
realizing that you’re right
instead, a slight pain on your forehead and you mutter a surprised, “ow.”
“that’s what you get,” younghyun says, seriously but his eyes show that of worry
you pout, and he tries to resist but he can’t so he kisses you
“for thinking the opposite of who you are to me,” he continues, letting go of your face and sliding his fingers in between the crevices of yours once more
you leave it like that, feeling just a tad bit calmer than before
but younghyun keeps looking at you, poking at your side which causes you to be ticklish
and he knows that
“you hungry?” he asks once you reach downtown
“just a little,” you say, thinking of what to cook dinner for the both of you soon since he said he’s coming over
“let’s get some galbi,” he urges, tugging you towards the restaurant with the glowing sign
“but you just ate…” you say quizzically, and as if on cue your stomach grumbles
well it has been a few hours for you
but for younghyun, technically he should already be full for the rest of the day!
“c’mon, my treat,” he doesn’t take no for an answer and you guys sit at a table with the stove in the center
for the rest of the night, he grills you your meat
doesn’t even let you put them on your plate, it has to come from him as you feeds you some of your favorites, galbi, gobchang, hangjusal; the whole nine yards
of course, he’s eating too, and laughing, and making you smile
“room for dessert?” he asks, and you shake your head no too many times
“get yourself some, i know you want to” you tell him, and he’s already calling for the waiter to bring him a mochi or two
he eats it while walking back to your apartment with you; and he seems like such a satisfied kid
you can’t go on throughout the day being all sullen with younghyun; it’s impossible
back in your apartment, you ease into the familiarity of the place
and so does younghyun
you ready some clothes for him that he’s left in your dresser to prepare a warm bath
but he calls you in the living room
“just a moment, younghyun”
“no no i need you now :(“
well, can you resist that tone? no
“what’s up? don’t you want to freshen up first?”
“i want you first”
:( “okay,” you say as shyly as your pounding heart can let you say
and you’re back in the same position as in the studio, right after he ate
arms around you, and he coaches your legs to rest on his
basically you’re koala-hugging him on your couch
“what’s this?” you say embarrassed. even in your own goddamn apartment, he makes you feel so many things at once
“being extra clingy”
“i can see that— but why?”
“so you don’t doubt yourself”
you’re taken aback
“there’s nothing that you need to change or do in front of me, or for me to make me love you more,” he starts off, and there goes his eyes again. staring, watching you. steady, serious but.. calming, in a sense
“because i already love you, so much. for everything that you do for me. all the little things.”
“i love you too,” you whisper, finding it hard to find words to describe how lucky you are to have him
again
but this time, you know he doesn’t mind
just having you right here by him is enough, having him recognize the small yet appreciated gestures that you do
and how he manages to check up on your own feelings so quick, and remedy the sadness just like that
there’s just something about being in love with younghyun
that words can’t express
but this moment with him right now can at least make you feel
that much loved by him too
#young k imagines#young k scenarios#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#young k x reader#brian kang imagines#brian kang scenarios#day6 au#by:jiae#dot series
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it just is | pjh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: it just is
pairing: park jaehyung (jae of day6) & you
genre: angst with a happy ending
words: 4.2k
author’s note: this took a few days to write because i wanted to approach it with sensitivity, and some realism from personal experiences. as i get to know jae as an artist, a day6 member, and a person even more, i feel so grateful for his music and his vulnerability that oftentimes is met with differing opinions from other people. i wanted to express that in this fic, and i hope i did the genre justice.
content warning: discussions of online hate, criticism, feelings of worthlessness, coping through them
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
You don’t get it— or maybe you do. You’ve been given criticism before; on a powerpoint presentation, college-level essays, exams with written solutions needed, even for work performances. It has its benefits, having other qualified people observe you through their own lenses. It makes you notice the errors in your answers, mispronunciations, and flaws in your work ethic you wouldn’t have been able to catch if you were tasked to evaluate yourself.
There’s a difference however, in the ways that you’ve experienced being given criticism and the way Jae has.
He gets criticized. Instead of firm and blunt observations that he needs to take into consideration, and adjust when necessary, he isn’t given a room for improvement. He just receives these words with a punch to the gut, a slap on his face, and it stings. A whole damn lot.
You think about the unfair times you were given criticism for work or a task that you originally thought was executed decently enough, at least for your standards. But that’s the point of being handed blunt feedback, is to let you realize that you can reach higher than this, go beyond what you previously had shown to others or even to yourself.
Criticism given to you over the years had always spared space for you to reflect, and grow with it. It was always supposed to be a weapon for you to take into your own hands, and wield it yourself. It was never meant to attack you full force, and leave you bleeding with no help in sight.
So maybe you do get it, but also you never really will when it comes to Jae.
Either way, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t pick up the phone at a time when everyone in the city should be fast, fast asleep. When people have already drifted off into a deep slumber that enables them to dream beautiful things.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you wouldn’t ride your bicycle so late at night which you absolutely abhor. The cold air hitting your face as you speed up against its current is rarely a welcomed feeling, but that was the least of your concerns as you turned the corner to his apartment.
When it comes to Jae, your mind hums a low beep, static noise to blaring fire alarms and resounding thoughts in an instant.
You don't think much of it, however. He's just another friend, one who is in need.
You never truly believed he could be alright by himself, but you wanted to give him a chance. Now, hearing his voice crack through your phone followed by the connection breaking apart, you struggle to forgive yourself for letting him be. Even for just a little bit.
There wasn’t a need to knock, but you’re worried Jae may have forgotten he even called you in hesitation in the first place. In order to avoid spooking him, you make your presence known more clearly in the darkness.
“Jae, it’s me. I’m coming into your room.”
The door squeaks lightly, but the view isn’t any different. It remains dark, and lifeless in here. Stepping inside, the air just got a little bit heavier, and Jae’s breathing sounds more difficult that you began feeling aware of your own heart rate speeding up.
Retracing your steps from the multiples times you’ve been here, you get to the small lamp he barely uses on his desk. You turn it on the lowest brightness setting, giving the room a bit more dimension. It gives you a better view of Jae laying down on his bed, eyes staring into the ceiling. His hands support the weight of his head, lifting it up from the sheets.
He sniffles for a split second, and your heart thuds like a mic stand dropping on the floor at an empty stadium.
“Hey,” you approach him, careful not to be too loud with your movements.
The mattress dips from the weight of your body, and Jae slightly shuffles to the side to give you room. The side of your lips twitch in response as you make yourself comfortable laying down next to him.
For the next few minutes, no one talked.
Not even a hello back from him, and that’s new.
It’s… concerning, to say the least. Even in his most stressful days, you’d stop by his place knowing it’d annoy him but the sight of you and the smell of homemade spam musubi never fails to brighten up his mood.
He doesn’t forget to tell you that, and it makes you feel needed.
Taking in a deep breath, you look at him in the corner of your eye. He’s not asleep, although his eyes flutter back and forth from keeping it trained to the ceiling and drooping it ever so slightly. You squint further, noticing dried streaks of tears blurring onto his skin.
Your voice shakes. "Tell me where it hurts, Jae.”
You will yourself to resist your own choked out sobs. You’re not even sure what the issue was today. It’s always different, as if they have a giant wheel reserved just for him that someone gets to spin for their own pleasure.
Sometimes it lands on the same, debunked misunderstanding. Other times, you’ve become shell-shocked at how quick they fill in the blanks with made-up accusations for the sole purpose of hurting him even more.
None of it makes sense, and what angers you the most is the fact that Jae made you promise not to interfere. You hate that he used that word with you, promise me, please? because both of you know the importance behind them, especially when said between the two of you.
Did he change his mind tonight? Did it suddenly become too much to bear that breaking the very promise he asked of you was his last resort for help?
“Tell me,” you repeat with more determination now than overwhelmed nerves.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Jae answers, cold and empty.
Any other day that you pester him with a makeshift therapy session, you’d take that as a challenge. But tonight, his words linger in the air and you can’t shake off the goosebumps on your skin.
Maybe he’s right; at this point, shouldn’t you be more irritated than concerned? If he’s not willing to at least describe how inflicting the pain must be with every word online stabbed into him, why do you bother cleaning up the mess?
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re not me. They say those things because it’s me. I’m the problem.”
“Jae—"
You have the script memorized, the tirade of counterpoints to every blame shifted upon himself, but tonight you stop the words spilling from your mouth.
You turn your body towards him, hands folded underneath your cheek, a lone tear falling from your right eye.
“Do you believe them?” You ask, and the pause in Jae’s staring doesn’t go unnoticed.
He finally looks at you directly, ever since laying down beside him on his bed. With his body still laying flat, he turns his head to face you, his lips pressed together roughly.
You elicit a tsk sound, ignoring the amount of time that has passed since your question. Your fingers meet the cracked skin on his lips as you gently pry them off of each other. It’s wet, and the bright ring of blood doesn’t surprise you. Instead, you wipe it away, pulling your hand back to smear it off your shirt.
At some point, Jae mouths you a sorry but you don’t acknowledge him. Just as he’s obviously avoiding your own query.
“You’re not sleeping well,” it was more a fact than another question thrown at him. You reckon he’d be more cooperative with you if you say it how it is without him denying openly obvious things.
“You’re only drinking dubious cups of coffee in a day with one meal in between, at the most.”
“I haven’t had an appetite recently.”
“But you’d cater to your growing caffeine addiction more so than bring your appetite back?”
You don’t want to sound mean, but the stress lines forming on your forehead aren’t helping with your attempt to ease into the conversation more slowly.
Jae sighs, and it’s one of his many signs that entails he wants to move on, talk about something that is less targeting his questionable behavior and more mundane shit that doesn’t fit into the mood of the room at all.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
Unexpectedly, you look back at him and answer with a hint of surprise, “You think so low of me.”
Jae laughs, and for a moment the room became brighter. Just a little bit.
“Dude, do you know what time it is?”
“Yes, do you?” It was a rhetorical question, but you’re sort of glad he’s not just staying silent anymore. “I don’t have class in the morning. Even if I did, I’d still be here. Just cursing you out more for making me bike in the cold.”
“It’s because you don’t wear enough layers, dummy,” Jae points out, pointing at the lack of thick clothing covering your upper body.
Your first instinct is to flick his forehead, nudge him by the shoulder, and call him a fool. How can you even think of yourself that way when you receive a call from someone whose voice was on the verge of tears?
But you let it go for now, it’s not like he’ll believe you. It’s not like it matters.
“I still haven’t gotten my From Friends merch, Jae,” you taunt him and he laughs once more. Slowly, you feel his mood change from dreary to a few degrees warmer as he sits up on the bed.
You follow his lead, keeping your knees close, chin resting atop them. You’ll humor him for right now, it’s probably best that you don’t force his feelings out in the open as unwanted as they may be. He might not allow you in the future if you do.
“You can have one of mine. They gave me a ton from the first test batches,” he offers, leaning into you as if to convince you even more.
“I’m seriously gonna hold you onto that. I’m not leaving your apartment tonight without a sweater or two,” you respond, darting your tongue out. Normally, Jae would reciprocate, and if he’s feeling even riskier, inch his face towards yours for shock value.
Tonight, he’s definitely acting differently than normal. Especially with what he says right after is not something you’d expect from Jae.
“Don’t leave tonight.”
“I—”
“Just for tonight?” Jae pleads, gaze fully on yours now. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but… I’m really, really glad you came. I wouldn’t know what… I’m just.. lost and I don’t know what else to think. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll stay,” you reassure him, not entirely sure what this entails.
This doesn’t feel like those nights you’d be here for sleepovers countless of times before. Those nights were planned, prepared, and eventually ends up with Jae sleeping on the couch and you hogging his bed, as per your request (yet he willingly lends you his blanket).
Maybe two, three hours at best— this was the amount of time you believed you’d stay. You’ll listen to him vent, or just sink into the silence with him. Either way, you knew your presence can only soothe his pain temporarily, and he won’t say it out loud so you show yourself out the door voluntarily.
He wouldn’t protest, just hug you goodbye and ask that you text him when you get home.
You awkwardly stretch out your legs, placing your hands on your thighs. Swallowing a nervous breath, you let out, “So, um, do you want to talk about it, pal… or…”
All of a sudden you can’t comprehend a single word you’re saying, while Jae just stares at you amusingly, his lips in a tight smile waiting to burst out in giggles.
“I’m trying to comfort you here!” you whine, pouting at the way he’s making fun of you. “When you suddenly ask me to stay just like that, it makes it… weird!”
“I’m sorry,” Jae chuckles airily, carding a hand through his ruffled dark brown locks. “It’s fun for me when I’m not the butt of the joke,” he continues on, tone spiraling to that of seriousness again.
“Is it something incredibly absurd again? What was it? What happened?”
Jae shakes his head. “The words don’t matter.”
You argue back, “Yes, they do. It’s what hurts the most.”
You’ve seen the tweets, sometimes even the hashtags and you wish there was a way to mass report the whole app altogether, and throw it all away in the trash. But Jae reprimands you for overreacting, even if you catch him smiling at the suggestion.
“Debatable,” he sighs outwardly, clasping his hands together and resting them in between the wall and the nape of his neck. “A lot of them are just empty words, sure, but the pain they inflict is something else entirely.”
There’s something about the way Jae speaks about criticism thrown at him that makes you frustrated.
It’s not a secret that there isn’t an ounce of defensive vein in you when you’re at the receiving end of people finding faults in your work, your character. You believe humans are overprotective of who they think they are, they’ve become, as much as they like to hide it.
But with Jae, he sounds way too calm and composed for your liking. Ironically so, since he mentions pain. Perhaps this is his coping mechanism, take them as they are, unembellished and oftentimes hurtful.
But it doesn’t have to be that way, because the more he speaks of them so nonchalantly, the less his eyes sparkle and show his true feelings.
Your eyebrows crease even further, examining Jae’s facial features that remain still and unmoving, giving attention to anything else in his line of sight but you.
“A lot of them are false accusations, you don’t have to accept what you think is false.”
“Are they, though? To an extent, I think it shows what others perceive of me on a daily basis.”
“So you’re saying you do believe what they say about you?”
“At this point,” Jae starts off, stretching his arms upwards before crossing them against his chest languidly. He looks tired. “What else do I believe in? You know when the negativity becomes so loud in your head, I can’t explain it, but the words that tell me to keep going get muddled and overpowered by everything that screams I’m not enough?”
You’re not sure whether to respond.
It doesn’t seem like anything you say can add value to his confession. You look down on your hands, not knowing what to do with them so you keep them intertwined. It’s sweaty, yet the buzzing of his air conditioner fills the air. For some reason, you can’t stop your heart from pounding heavily inside you either.
In a way, it’s possibly because of the realization that all you can offer Jae is an ear to listen to. All you can offer him is your body warmth hopefully exuding onto him, having the presence of another person in his space just to ensure that someone is listening to what he has to say. When no one else seems to let him do so online.
But you want to be more, you have wanted to be so much more. You wish your hands can extend themselves to his, pull him closer so he can hear your heart beating desperately for him. If it had a morse code of its own, it would have confessed the love you feel for him all this time.
It’s gone quiet again, so you slowly lift your head to sneak a peek at him. His eyes are closed, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with unwanted thoughts fogging his brain.
Great, the guilt makes it way on your shoulders, weighing you down with it. He asks you to stay, you don’t believe his sincerity, and when he’s opened up so much in one night, you lack the response he needed to hear.
“If it means anything, I don’t believe them. You have your share of dumb moments, sure, but who hasn’t? If they figured out how much stupid shit I have said or done in my lifetime, I don’t think I’ll have a career ever again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself now.
Your mind wanders back to those times that you’ve made yourself look like a fool in front of Jae, and he still holds you against them to this day.
“Remember when I said owls were the cutest animals ever? And then I saw a tumblr post of what their legs looked like underneath all of those feathers? I felt so betrayed,” you recall out loud, snickering at times the group chat you shared with Jae and your mutual friends consisted solely of those creepy baby owl pictures that have surfaced on the internet-- seemingly their only purpose was to torment you with the truth.
You had posted your intense distaste of the animal on your Twitter, rather proudly even. It was a good thing your account was private, but the shame you felt was too intense to keep it on your profile for too long so you ended up deleting it, anyway.
But imagine if someone had somehow saved that tweet and called you out for being cruel towards unsuspecting birds?
“Or the time I got so drunk, I basically roasted all of your solo songs, calling them the national anthem of a hopeless romantic who will never find the love they’ve been praying for?” This was before It Just Is with Seori, and it was a dare that Younghyun had given you as payback for making him act out a lovey-dovey manhwa scene with Dowoon.
You think, if their supporters heard that out of context, you’re most likely toast.
Understandably, these are all a stretch, and at the end of the day, you’re not as famous as Jae. And if anything, the “roast” you had blurted out was completely inaccurate of what you actually think of his solo projects.
A projection, if you will, of your own feelings. If anyone in your circle of friends wears the title of a hopeless romantic, the crown has been glued to your head since meeting Jae.
“I’m not making any sense,” you say, rubbing your cheeks for comfort while watching Jae just doze off into the night. You weren’t sure if he still needed you to stay, but you’d feel it would be amiss if you left.
You begin to shuffle your way off the bed to give yourself more space to think about your next move until you feel Jae’s hand reach for yours, and squeeze it tight.
“I didn’t say you can go,” he mumbles sleepily, eyes still fluttered close. Yet his lips are smiling, almost as if he’s dreaming lightly. If that were the case, you humor him, and let his hand fall into yours. You like it that way, too.
“Did you hear what I just said two minutes ago?”
“No,” he lies.
“Mhm,” you hum, slowly making your way on the bed again. This time, you sit next to him, his sweatpants clad thigh leaning against your leggings. Your hands still held together, albeit loosely, he lifts it up as if to examine it with droopy eyes.
“Thanks, though. Oddly enough, that made me feel a little better,” he admits. “Except for that time you said hated my songs. I don’t think I’m letting that go easily.”
“I was apologetic, and it was a dare! I offered you food for a week,” you protest, shaking his hand off but he doesn’t budge. He keeps it in his palms, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.
A blush escapes on your cheeks, pink and warm, and most definitely as a result of your nerves getting the best of you.
“True,” he recalls, and tilts his head to the side inquisitively, “but it sounded like you really meant it…”
“Jae, you know that’s not true. I literally stream them on soundcloud almost every day,” you say a matter-of-factly, but regret it since it wasn’t something that he had no knowledge about before tonight. He pulls your hand closer to his chest, and excitedly beams at you.
“No way?” He exclaims, and you have no choice but to confirm, a helpless pout on your face. “Yeah, I listened to it on the way here.”
“My number one fan, huh,” he coos, tracing the lines on your palm. You gulp hard, knowing how much sweat your hands had accumulated since meeting his touch. You really don’t want him to notice, but the soothing caress of his fingers felt better than not anything else in the world.
“Whatever floats your boat, dude,” you try to brush it off, and Jae nods animatedly.
You try your best not to appear sleepy as a yawn finds its way out your lips. Jae notices this, and sadly lets go. Then, he taps on his shoulder, the one right next to you.
“Sleep, my child.”
“Never call me that. Ever again.”
“Don’t be dramatic, and just lean in,” he insists, cradling your head until you plop down on him.
It feels awkward, angled a bit on the uncomfortable side. But he adjusts for you, and you feel your body giving in to the source of support for your weary mind.
“I can sleep on the couch—”
“Shh, no more talking.”
Silently, you roll your eyes and say nothing more. Your fingers fiddle with each other once again, remembering how much of Jae’s skin slid next to yours, and now your cheek is pressed down on his frame.
Again, this isn’t the first time it’s happened, but the events leading up to this particular night is all new to you. You allow your body to get comfortable, used to this feeling, even if it’s just tonight.
Your original plan was to be Jae’s shoulder to lean on, but the roles seem to have reversed.
Softly, Jae calls your name. For a second, you’re too immersed in the synchronized breathing the two of you share. When he brings your hand into his, your senses perk up but you refuse to look into his eyes; afraid of what he might see in yours.
“What? You said no more talking.”
“I’m happy you’re here,” he tells you, even softer than before as your hands melt together, filling the spaces between. You don’t know whether to let this happen, not understanding the meaning behind his actions.
It’s.. weird, unknown, foreign, but addicting. His touch is addictive, and you know you’re going to crave for more if you’re not careful with the dosage.
Biting your lip, you struggle to reply. He might mean it in a friendly way, but the invitation to relax right onto his shoulder, lacing your fingers as if they’re meant to be locked in place that way, it’s all too much for your brain to process— and definitely your heart.
Face hot, heart heavy with emotions, you say shakily, “I’m happy you asked me to.”
“Hm?”
“I.. want to be the person you call first when you’re feeling like shit. If possible, I want to be the only person.” There was no going back, no swallowing words you’ve let go in the open.
As you speak, Jae’s fingers tighten its grasp around yours. You feel weak, but you appreciate him supporting you this way as you keep going.
“I probably will never understand what it is you feel when certain words pierce through you too deep, like you said. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I want to know how you’re feeling, from good to bad. From the best and the worst of it all. I want to be there.”
“Who said you aren’t?” Jae’s low voice interrupts your stream of emotions, and it compels you to finally see his eyes. They’re shining, teary, and smiling at the same time.
You feel your cheeks soaking wet, and a hiccup arises out of your lips. With your free hand, you hide half of your face in embarrassment. Two idiots, crying together, hands never letting go of each other.
It didn’t seem long until you fell asleep on his bed. The only difference this time, from all the other times you’ve been here, Jae was sleeping beside you.
Arms over your frame, his long fingers finding their permanent place within yours. The two of you have exhausted your emotions enough that night, and there was plenty of time in the day to talk it all through.
You dream of what seems to be a possible future for you and Jae. Moments when he’d fuck up, when you’d say something out of pocket, but it was met with a healthy discussion between you.
And even if there are days when people online couldn’t understand the growth happening in his life, you see it. You see him, and you don’t hesitate to forgive, and give him space to grow. As he does with you.
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 x reader#day6 au#park jaehyung imagines#park jaehyung scenarios#park jaehyung x reader#park jaehyung au#day6 fic#by:jiae
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• in the mood for love | pjh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: in the mood for love
pairing: park jaehyung (jae of day6) & you
genre: FLUFF
words: 2.6k
author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a valentine’s day headcanon for our #1 twitch streamer, jae. i’ve never done headcanons before, so i kind of spun this in both ways: how i think he’d spend a special day with his s/o, and turn it into a fic(ish?) ngl these are fun to do
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
jae wouldn’t be the biggest fan of valentine’s day
as in, having one specific day assigned throughout the whole year
for you to hail gifts and love notes and roses and chocolates to the one person you love
yeah, he’d definitely be the “complaining” type, that is to say
before he met you
your relationship stands in the middle of being frenemies and actually romantically involved
there is never a day that jae corrects you on some weird unheard of factoid
(in which case he gets it wrong 95% of the time)
nor can you get away from his ridiculous antics that just tip you over the edge slightly
like, putting your favorite snack on the highest shelf he knows you can’t reach
or bombarding you with memes through texts while he’s in the bathroom
forcing you to play phasmaphobia, promising he won’t lock you in the room with the ghost
and proceeds to do exactly that plus runs away without you
where’s the team effort in that?
anyway, that’s basically the gist of your life having him as your boyfriend
so for valentine’s day, you know it would either just be
a chill day at his apartment, maybe play games that would resort to turning into a fiery competition
or watch the latest release of your favorite animes while he talks over every two minutes about a theory he developed prior
OR… hmm, well, you’re not really sure
this would be the first valentine’s you’d spend with him; and you’re very much aware for his
lack of fondness for the holiday
the days leading up to it, the only thing you’d hear from him is complaints upon complaints of this capitalistic expenditure that should be abolished
you know he jests, but you feel a little saddened
you spent so much time making a scrapbook for the memories you both shared in the few months you’ve been together
it’s not a lot, you rarely do intricate craftwork like this, but you were feeling sentimental
there’s polaroids of him streaming on twitch with you sneakily taking the picture from the side
a polaroid of the two of you at your apartment eating take out while drinking a little alc
even a picture of yourself which he took when you were knocked out on the couch, waiting for him to finish band practice
for an added touch, you wrote down cute (or snarky, it depends on how he views it) comments on each polaroid, just to make it more personalized
the nervousness hits you, what if he thinks this is all too much? too clingy? he didn’t ask for this, that’s for sure
but it was made with the labor of love, and it just so happens that the 14th was the day you started dating him… yeah, maybe you can make that as an excuse instead
usually, the both for you don’t really celebrate ~*~monthsaries~*~ and that’s okay
he’s busy with work and you have other duties to attend to as well— but one special gift shouldn’t be the cause of a problem, right?
on the day of ~*~love~*~, jae had some meetings at the company bldg. and so you ask if there’s a time during the night you guys can hang out
he doesn’t respond until a few hours later, and the whole time your heart sank deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach
you just have to accept him for who he is, you sigh, or maybe he’s just caught up with band stuff, which is usually the case— and you’re never not 100% supportive
he texts you that you can come over at his apartment, and for a little your excitement bounces back
“sorry for the late reply, the boys were here for a lil” he adds, and you’re confused— did that mean they’re still hanging out at his place? oh
you try not to think of it too much, having expectations beyond reality is what breaks a lot of relationships
and you have to remind yourself: jae isn’t like that, and you like jae for jae
you still bring the scrapbook with you, and ought to leave it under his bed or something so he finds a surprise later on (considering the possibility that you’re accompanied by 4 of his best friends during your 6 month anniversary and valentine’s day)
you arrive at his doorstep, anxiety soaring out of your chest for some reason. with the spare key he had entrusted you with, you open the door
it’s dark
way too dark
is this a prank? is he trying to conflate halloween with valentine’s day
“jae i swear to god if—”
and the lights turn on, but it’s not his house lights. they’re fairy lights. all strewn across the hall (where did he get that?)
little heart cut outs of different shades of red and pink seem to be taped all over the walls
you hear soft piano music humming from his speakers in the living room
but there is no jae in sight
“jae, what…” you’re at a loss for words
he pops out of his bedroom, trying hard not to grin so widely at you
“you called?” he says in the most annoying, teasing voice in which you can’t help but laugh-cry at
“wait wait wait this wasn’t the reaction i was going for” he says in panic, walking towards you and the sight of him just makes you cry a little harder
he’s wearing a tux inside his own house, and he’s holding a rose that’s bound to be crushed the moment he comes over to hug you
“wait, no the rose,” you say in between sniffles, taking it from his grasp and settling it on the coffee table
jae pauses, looks at you in a daze
you’re pouting, and you want to admire his outfit but also punch his silly face but he’s smiling at you and you’re embarrassed
“are you sad?” he asks a matter of factly, arms still spread open waiting for your approval for him to embrace you
“if you don’t hug me in the next three second i will be—”
“i would be the worst person to ever exist in the world to do that to you,” he says in your ear, and you soon feel yourself melting into his embrace
he’s so warm
and so tall
and so confusing you kind of just want to poke him where it hurts
but you indulge in the comfort of his presence
until you realize that you’re wrinkling his precious suit
“ok hol up” you interrupt the adorable moment, and jae seems to look confused
“wha”
“what’s all this?” you finally get the courage to ask, dried up tears on your cheeks yet a hopeful spark igniting in your chest
“well, i uh,” this is ultimate Jae Trying to Find Excuses with Futile Attempts To Do So 101
“did you really have a meeting today?” no answer
“did the boys help you with all this?” your head turns to look at all the cheesy decorations in the room
still no answer
just jae avoiding your suspicious stare, even whistling comically
“jae!” your nervousness from a while ago comes out as relief, and bubbling laughter as you playfully shake him for an answer “i thought valentine’s suck and we’re too good for that”
“you’re never too good for anything, well. except for me, you’re too good for me,” he finally lets up, wiping whats left of the moist tears on your face with a soft caress. his voice was soft, too, and it’s a refreshing and wanted feeling to hear him speak to you this way
“i know i can be a jerk about those kinds of things but… after meeting you, i think you deserve just the best,” he continues, finding your hand and holding onto it tight. “this isn’t even half of it”
“there’s more?” you quip, already satisfied with the cutesy re-decor of his apartment, but once he leads you to the island counter you see two plates filled with dinner food, and wine glasses ready to be poured with what seems to be red wine on the side
the vase in the middle was empty, and so you accept the rose that jae had picked up from the table, and carefully place it in its new home
“i’m… impressed. you did this?” you say
“if i said yes would you believe me”
“never,” you reply, knowing that younghyun probably had a little helping hand in here too
“well there you go, you know me better than myself already,” jae winks, and something flutters within you that causes your head to feel so light and just. focus on jae
pulling out the chair, he signals for you sit down with a royal gesture “before you, milady”
you’re laughing now, smiling from ear to ear at how ridiculous jae sounds but at the same time the two of you are having so much fun
you fall back into normal conversations with more banter than regular small talk; it’s so easy to be yourself with him
you keep admiring the suit he’s wearing, even his hair is slicked back with gel to cast the perfect valentine’s day look. you compliment him in between bites, and then mutter under your breath that you should have worn something just as elegant
“this wasn’t my idea,” he defends, and you’re sure one of the boys dared him to do it
“still, i don’t look the part as your date,” you half-joke, but your tone sounded sadder than you anticipated
“this,” jae says, looking at you and only you. for a moment you can’t find your breath
“you. this is you. and that’s who i love”
you’re smitten. that’s it pack up your bags this is it
“jae maybe ease up on the red wine?”
“shutup youknowyouloveit”
finally, you finish up the meal and you’re full
of food and love
he tells you to just chill by the couch as he gets something from his room, and you wonder what else he has up his sleeve
you’re grateful for bringing the polaroid camera with you to commemorate something so rare
but as you’re trying to take it out of your bag, you see the scrapbook (it’s hard to miss) and pull that out instead
should you give it to him now? or later?
while you contemplate on this, flipping the pages of the book jae has sprung up behind you
“hey i was looking for that picture of you all sleepy and drooling”
“JAE WHAT THE HELL”
you jump from surprise, almost flailing the scrapbook in the process as you see jae laughing his ass off from behind
you notice he has his guitar with him now (???)
“did you do this for me?” he sits next to you, setting the guitar on the side as you begrudgingly give him your gift. all of a sudden the unknown fear creeps up again and you hide your face in your hands
you hear him turn the page, a quiet pause, maybe a chuckle or two, and rinse repeat
“are you done????”
“no give me about ten hours”
“WHAT”
“i’m kidding, dude, this is amazing”
give it to jae to call you dude while in a relationship with you
but that’s when you know he’s genuine with his words
“i wasn’t expecting anything like this at all. this is so so so good, i love it. a lot,” he keeps complimenting you and it’s so hard to look at him when you’re red in the face and heart beating a mile a minute
“it’s nothing… i thought it’d feel too much since we haven’t been together long,” you confess, finally giving into seeing what jae looks like
he pout
he attac you with a flick on the forehead
and a pat on top of your head
“i don’t see it that way,” he says, sincerely. then he brings his guitar on his lap, and prepares his form as if he’s… about to sing something
the music from the speakers was soft enough to not disrupt his singing and guitar skills
you are one if not the biggest fan of jae and his band
and also, of eaJ
so you are very well aware of every song he’s put out there even winning five times in a self-induced contest as to who knows the lyrics better: the actual band member or the significant other
but what he’s singing for you right now
what those fingers plucking romantic melodies on the guitar strings
you haven’t heard of it before
and yet your heart feels so connected, so in awe of the way jae passionately sings in front of you
the man is shy okay, he’s a genius in his craft but when it comes to doing it in front of you he clamps up like a toddler on his first day alone in school
but right now, you don’t see any of that. you see jae singing words of happiness, admiration, love
for you
and he might not be meeting your eyes right now, it’s okay, cause you’re crying again anyway
you don’t want him to stop
you close your eyes and feel his words embed themselves in your mind
you want to keep this memory close to you, even if you can’t take a picture
it’ll ruin how special this moment is, really
it was short, sweet, but you’re not complaining
he finishes with a soft strum, and then finally sees your face in tears again
“i’m a bad boyfriend aren’t i,” he whines and he is met with the forceful (hint: soft) punches on his chest
“you’re literally the best bf ever wtf are u on about”
face wet, cheeks red, neck feeling warm from the wine
you’re a mess it’s as if you got dumped on valentine’s instead of serenaded by the love of your life
“why do you look like you got broken up on valentine’s instead of being—”
“yes jae i know”
“did you like it though? it’s unfinished but, i figured i wanted you to be the first to hear it”
“since...well.. it’s a song about you”
:( he wipes the tears with his thumb, and you steal a quick kiss on his lips
“i love it, and i love you so much u dork”
“i take it back you’ll never hear the finished version of this song”
“HEY”
(spoiler alert: he now keeps bugging you for more supportive comments and suggestions on the song)
(another spoiler alert: the night ended up the way you guys love spending time together: basking in each other’s company)
only this time, there’s poorly cut out hearts all over the walls
and there’s jae drunkenly mistaking lyrics of his song for another
and you singing along off-tune
happy valentine’s you two :)
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#park jaehyung imagines#park jaehyung scenarios#day6 x reader#jae x reader#day6 fic#by:jiae#dot series
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11:48 am | pjh
title: 11:48am
pairing: park jaehyung (of day6) & you
genre: fluff, bullet style
words: 2.1k
author’s note: mmm i’m kind of meh about this but i jus really needed to write so i don’t lose motivation, but this is just a short fic requested by this anon asking for a lazy day scenario with jae. hope it’s still an okay read.
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
once you receive a specific text from jae on a regular day
“whatchu doinnnn”
you know he’s wondering if you’re not busy, and if you come hang out at his place
which, for the majority of the time, you always tell him “not much. y?”
even though you’re 99% sure of what he wants out of you
you have already made your way to a coffee shop before he had replied
“same. wanna do nothing together? :)”
so u get two coffees: one americano and one vanilla latte (as much as you want to cut down calories here, there is no way you can drink just water and espresso by itself
you decide on getting two sandwiches as well, it’s close to noon and there’s a high probability that jae just woke up and he hasn’t even moved from the bed
you’re lowkey happy that jae texts you first (assumingly) during days like this because, honestly you miss the 6 foot lanky nerdy soft boy a lot
jae has a habit of keeping to himself during his downtime, especially now
but with him streaming and having new friends through the platform has helped him socialize and feel a sense of normalcy from the world, which you are really glad for
he’s mentioned how much he misses doing band activities but doesn’t really elaborate on them
he think he talks about it too much and that you wouldn’t want to hear his repetitive whining
you don’t have the needed bravery in your heart (yet) to tell him you will never get bored or feel burdened by his thoughts, no matter what they entail
so for now, when he asks of your presence in his lovely abode— you make time for him. always.
even if it’s just a lazy day of doing nothing
you knock on his door and text him at the same time. you look around his neighborhood and enjoy the peace and quiet outside. you wonder if jae’s soundproof walls work well enough for his next door neighbors this time. you had told him multiple times that sungjin wouldn’t appreciate the noise too much, and he if he wanted to play he can do so at your place
however you never suggested that last thought. it swam in the sea of your thoughts one too many times but it never came to shore. you thought too much about the implications of that idea
besides, what good came out of reminding him of his streamer noises is that he finally has an apartment of his own
and you don’t feel as shy or out of place whenever you came over to the one he shared with the boys
“oh hey, wasn’t expecting you,” jae had opened the door and you snap out of your wondering
he greets you with drowsy eyes, a full yawn and long strands of hair sticking out everywhere
you huff out a breath and show the goods in your hands. “you’re definitely gonna need this.”
his eyes light up as he recognizes the contents of the paper bag
“whaaaat you shouldn’t have, i was about to order for delivery,” he tries for an innocent tone but the goofy smile on his face makes that extra trip to the cafe worth it
“you’re welcome, jae.”
lazy days with jae come in two ways
number one: absolutely the title. you crash on the bed, he scolds you for it but then you feel his crushing weight on top of you for revenge or
you hog the couch, splay your legs until jae does the same thing and entangles all your limbs together it becomes a semi wrestling match
number two: he’d end up wanting to do something all this time, either jam on his guitar or play WoW with you in the background, just watching
commenting on things you have 0 knowledge about, and him dismissing every words you say with a random scream from his end
“you’re so bad at this lmao”
“NONONO STOPSTOPSTOP NONONO”
“is the riff supposed to sound like that? ew”
“you want your face to meet my guitar? :)”
yeah, banter between you can be brutal like this which is why it gets a little embarrassing to be your true self with him when the others are involved
today, jae seems to just enjoy sipping on his iced coffee while tippy tapping on the floor to sit next to you on the couch
??? how can a grown man do something puppies so effortlessly pull out… just as cute if not even better???
usually, silence isn’t how the two of you spend lazy days together. once he’s thought of a topic to talk about, however out of this world or mundane it could be— the conversations you share are what you cherish the most bonding with jae
“you ever think about the first piece of a roll of sliced bread?”
“you mean the weird looking pieces no one ever chooses first and leaves it there until there’s none of the good slices left?”
“the very one” “what about it?”
“you’re that slice of bread”
“well yeah? jokes on you, you’re the OTHER piece. there’s two in a pack dumbass”
one would mistake this as insulting, but this is how jae shows his affection to you, and you wouldn’t want it any other way
there’s a certain comfort in just.. not deliberating whether you’d overstep a line or say something that would be misconstrued. with jae, you appreciate the candid friendship you mutually benefit from
his sarcastic personality can be a pain at times when not needed, of course, but when you’ve missed him so much it just feels right
“jae your legs are too long for the couch get a new one.” he had taken over the other end of the couch with his legs over yours, and you’re trying your best to make the position comfortable
but being inches close to his socks and noticing that he’s intentionally moving his feet about just to annoy you
“you get me a new couch so we both fit here”
“bro do you know how empty my wallet is rn”
“as empty as your love life?”
“oh we’re talking about ourselves right now? ok cool”
he scoffs at your comeback, but he remains speechless and gives you room to breathe. you panic for a second thinking maybe, this is the unexplained boundary he has to draw a line on? love?
but he puts down his already finished americano, and looks back at you a deadpan expression
you sit up as well, nerves creeping up on your arm. you didn’t want to take it too far and in your defense, this isn’t the first time you teased each other about your, well, non-existent romantic endeavors
“jae, i—”
“oh my god did you see your face?? i was kidding chilllll” he starts to burst into a fit of laughter, the kind where he loses air and lolls his head back
this time you pout, reaching over to flick him on the forehead. his 6th sense had improved a lot overtime being with you as he blocks your hand away from his face, and sticks a tongue out
“you think i wasn’t prepared for that anymore?” he taunt, locking his grip around your wrist
“now you’re just making fun of me” >:(
“you get really puffy cheeks and look adorable when you’re mad”
“THAT IS NOT A VALID REASON!!”
eventually he lets you go, pats your head then proceeds to just ruffle it as messy as his, and in an instant your mood changes again
you shouldn’t lie to yourself anymore, you love jae’s company and it would kill you if he’d one day decide he’s too old or too “mature” for moments like this
you get winded up with denial of having a crush on your best friend, and you’re so sure he knows at this point
because he reels you back into the present and challenges you to a game os super smash bros
and when he loses, he does it again. and you win again, and this time he says it was just a warm-up and he shouldn’t go easy on you anymore
and then you win again, and you’re the one cackling in the air at his look of defeat as well as the 6 losses he had endured during the matches
“man you’re getting rusty”
“am not! i’ve just been playing WoW too much i’m not used to switch controls anymore…”
“sure buddy”
“HEY, 1v1 me in league right now, i dare you”
“no”
“WHY?”
“you only have one desktop, stupid. i didn’t bring my laptop”
“oh so by default I win :D”
nothing can ever get away with jae, he always needs to have the last laugh with you and at times it’s frustrating, but his carefree charisma has grown on you so much that you anticipate what else he has in store to give you a hard time
jokes on him, you fall for jae just an inch deeper the more he treats you comfortably this way
it’s only been an hour or two, but jae had decided that he’s done enough productive stuff for the day (read: losing too many times) and invited you over to chill on his bed
it’s not an uncommon sight for the both of you to lie next to each other, taking turns with queueing up music on spotify. songs you and jae love together, and those that are new to your ears
sometimes, you’d talk over the playlist— it becomes more of background noise as jae asks you about your day, the days before that, and what you’re planning on doing in the future
he doesn’t ask for specific answers, he likes to hear how you’ve been feeling, emotionally so
jae has always been intrigued by other people’s perception of themselves, of the things around them, and of what they think of the universe in the back of their minds
it was a little too much to handle, those questions of his, when you first were just getting to know each other
but he eased into it naturally, confessing about his love for the moon— its beauty in appearance, and the beauty of its purpose
which made you think… you’re in love with the moon too, not just what you see in the sky
but what you see right next to you right now
jae had given you enough time before to open up about your own thoughts, struggles, and share secrets with him. it didn’t take long until you found the trust between you and held onto it for dear life
lazy days with jae can be just that— lazy, loafing around the house, stealing a chip or two from each other’s bag, falling asleep to the sound of lofi music on the speaker
but it can go this way too: with jae explaining how good this one song can be, the metaphors every verse carries with the melody. “you’ve always heard of chocolate eyes or whatever, but blueberry? and to describe the setting sun as strawberry skies? amazing, GENIUS”
and you laugh, and listen to the same song over and over as per jae’s request until he overpowers the original vocals— and you don’t complain, there’s not a sound you love to hear on a lazy afternoon than his low register, the kind of singing he does just for the heck of it. he’s not exerting too much range, too much work on the words he sings— he’s just doing so to comfort him, to bring life to the room, to dwell on each poetic verse’s meaning
i’m so lost in your blueberry eyes
he finishes singing, and the playlist shuffles to an instrumental lofi track with an upbeat, charming rhythm to it
jae keeps his eyes closed, smiling to himself probably proud for his faux performance
“you done gloating in your head yet, jae?”
“shut up i’m feeling the moment”
you poke his shoulder with yours, and you’re suddenly hyper aware at how close the two of you are.. physically, right now
he turns his head towards you, eyes fluttering, lips slightly open. he catches you staring, and it’s too sudden for you to look away and pretend it’s not awkward at all
“what are you doing?” he asks, a lilt of teasing on his voice but his eyes never leave yours
“sh..shut up,” you quip in a small voice, looking down on your laying bodies before turning away, cheeks warm
“wait what? what i was asking a genuine question—”
“i was.. feeling the moment, okay? god jae you’re annoying” you mutter under your breath, a lousy response to cover up the pounding in your chest
“this moment feels really nice, doesn’t it?” he says next to you, quiet but gentle
you pause for a second, taking in his words and letting go of the smile you’re trying to hold off on
your heart is still racing, but there wasn’t a need to worry about stumbling with your feelings
if jae himself is enjoying your own company right now
“it is. if it’s with you, it really is.”
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#day6 x reader#park jaehyung imagines#park jaehyung scenarios#park jaehyung x reader#park jaehyung au#day6 jae#dot series#by:jiae
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in ruins | kyh
title: in ruins
pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you
genre: heavy angst, not a happy ending i’m warning you, small caps
words: 4.0k
author’s note: i love hurting myself this way.
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
you thought upon knocking on the door, you’d be greeted by the one person you have been looking forward to seeing all week. instead, an unexpecting friend of his unlocks it ajar, eyes peering over to your figure before realizing who you were.
“wonpil, hey,” you greet him amidst the confused expression on his face. it brings him back to his senses, shaking his head slightly before fully letting the door open. he gulps slightly yet you catch it, but don’t question why he looks.. so nervous.
“is this a bad time?” you hesitate, taking one small step forward as you crane your neck to look around the apartment. wonpil immediately shakes his head again, sidestepping and gesturing his hand over. “no, no! please, come in. make yourself at home.”
“okay, thanks…” you trail off, a small smile on your lips but a certain emotion tugging at your heart. with a better sight of the inside, you notice dowoon lying down on the couch with his phone on hand, seemingly focused on a game that requires both of his hands to control. wonpil closes the door behind you, and excuses himself to the kitchen before asking, “did you want anything to drink? water, tea?”
“i’m okay, wonpil. thank you, though,” you tell him, nodding your head to let him be. as he makes his way to get a glass of water for himself, you walk into the place further, taking in the minimal decorations and a few picture frames hanging on the walls. it’s been a while since you’ve set foot in the dorm, and taking in its unique scent and interior gives you some comfort from the anxiety building up from your stomach.
you tell yourself that’s just how wonpil acts around you when younghyun isn’t around: a little shy, polite, and a smidgen bit careful not to say anything weird. you wish, at this point, he can get used to your presence. then again, you only get to see most of them whenever the bassist invites you over.
“hey, dowoon, what’cha playing?” you attempt to start a conversation, standing next to the edge of the couch where dowoon’s head rested. his sight is obstructed by the screen of his phone, so you bend down to check what has gotten most of his attention: genshin impact.
“ah, jae had told me you rolled a keqing yesterday, that’s pretty cool,” you comment, and dowoon jumps from the sound of your voice so close to his ear. you get up, stepping back while apologizing. “sorry, sorry! didn’t mean to be nosy.”
“no, you’re good—” he starts to say, sitting up from his comfortable position while pausing his game, haphazardly placing his phone on the side. a scratch on the back of his neck, he glances over to you. similarly to wonpil, he looks surprised to see you here. “oh! how’s it going?”
“it’s going,” you reply quickly, realizing more and more it doesn’t seem like you were expected to come. weird, you wander in the back of your mind, younghyun usually gives them a heads up when you’re coming over to hang out or just pick him up to leave.
“did younghyun not say anything today?” an air of silence is felt, and now you’re more concerned when turning to look at his bedroom door— he’s not in there.
“he probably forgot,” wonpil chimes in, approaching the living room as he sets down his glass. “hyung has been really busy lately, so it might have slipped his mind.”
“yeah, yeah. it’s no big deal. you’re always welcome here,” dowoon adds, an encouraging smile appearing on his lips. you reciprocate, albeit a little forced, feeling less sure of the fact that the plans you and younghyun had made and promised to pursue are starting to crumble beneath your feet.
sighing deeply, you grip onto your purse and interrogate further: “he’s not in his room, is he?”
the drummer and pianist steal a glance at each other for a split second, but every detail of their silent conversation is not lost on you. that’s a look of panic, worrying what you’d feel if they told the truth, rapidly forming excuses in their heads they can use to white lie their way out of the situation.
“he’s…” wonpil begins, and dowoon’s ears have warmed up to the tense air looming all over you three. a door to the left creaks open, and for a moment you’re relieved. maybe you were overreacting, already affected by the many times something similar has happened to you, but there was no reason not to forgive younghyun.
however, this time, it’s different. if that’s not him coming out of the door right now…
“hey, i’m gonna go on a run—” sungjin informs his roommates, locking the door in his wake. he finally looks towards the three of you in the living room, and given his certain sense of maturity— and analyzing what’s going on by the awkward expressions painted on your faces, he gives you a wave of his hand.
“hi. you’re looking for younghyun?”
“sungjin, i… yeah. where is he?” you let your breaths stabilize, not wanting to break down in the middle of what once was a familiar space, and is now becoming more and more foreign to you. as wonpil and dowoon remain quiet, pretending to busy themselves with his almost empty glass of water and overheating phone respectively, you keep your eyes on sungjin. begging him to tell the truth.
he delivers, but his stare is hard, almost as if he’s hiding something behind the glassiness of his eyes. “he’s been out for the whole day. he said to not wait up on him since he still has another work schedule tonight.”
as you stand there, knuckles turning pale with the way it holds onto your purse for dear life, you scoff sarcastically. leaving sungjin’s gaze, the anxiety had reached the base of your throat, restricting words of profanities to come out of you like a broken dam.
“you can wait for him in his room. did you text him?” sungjin continues to console you, walking closer but allowing personal space between you. “i can call him while i run, he’s going to get annoyed eventually and pick up.”
“yeah, i’ll do the same as hyung. we’ll blow up his phone so he can come back home,” dowoon joins with a perk to his voice, seemingly anticipating their master plan to succeed. wonpil nods along, but doesn’t meet your gaze, only swirling the remaining liquid in his glass.
“you don’t have to do that,” you let them know as much as your voice can muster before breaking. “i’ll take you up on your offer of waiting for him, if you don’t mind. i’ll call him myself.”
sungjin brings his fingers in between the bridge of his nose, contemplating on accepting the compromise. to hurry things up, you bring a hand to his shoulder and squeeze it gently. he seems to understand as he nods firmly, patting your hand before you let it go.
“okay. let me know if he doesn’t come back in an hour, yeah?”
“yes, sir.”
“do you want some snacks? leftovers? are you hungry?” wonpil goes off with his questions, and it’s an endearing sight to watch him treat you so politely in his humble abode. honestly, at this point you’d rather leave and forget this day even existed— but you needed answers, and you know you’re not getting it from them.
you don’t want to, anyway, because they shouldn’t be involved in this. they don’t need to be. this is between you and younghyun, and if you were to wait for him again, for the longest time— and maybe the last time, then so be it.
you’re not going to leave until you get what you wanted.
“don’t worry about me, wonpil. i’m sorry for intruding on your night,” you apologize, bowing down before him as you make your way to younghyun’s bedroom. thankfully, he left it unlocked, and you swung the door open and close in an instant. with your back on the door, your labored breathing comes back— it took a lot from you to stay calm, collected, and unbothered by what’s going on. you didn’t want to make it a big deal, they’ve seen this before, and it usually gets resolved.
like you said, forgiveness was not an uncommon concept with you and younghyun. you believe it’s essential with how… complicated your relationship is with each other. you’ve fucked up a couple of times, said things that weren’t within your best intentions to, and younghyun didn’t hold grudges because of them.
he would be upset, justifiably so, but after a day or two, you were both back to normal. he reassures you there wasn’t any bad blood, and he understand the frustration himself.
from then on, you tried— really hard not to fuck things up anymore because it’s scary. it’s terrifying to think about the consequences of unwanted words, uncalled for actions with a person whose schedule is jam packed everyday, and his thoughts never ending.
younghyun is always on the run, whether that be hopping from studio to studio or collecting ideas for a new song and another.
it’s not like you aren’t busy yourself, but the degree to which he pushes himself further into his career is miles ahead from yours. and it’s not your place to complain about, it’s your choice to be supportive, though. which you promised. from day one, and he kissed you like it was the one answer he needed to hear.
you miss it. you miss him, his lips, his touch; everything that screamed younghyun, it’s right here. in his room. the only thing missing is the person himself, him.
you walk over to his bed, kept clean and sheets folded. always organized, rarely leaving miscellaneous crap in random places. sometimes it’s intimidating, to visualize the kind of person who inhabits this room, but knowing who he is, you feel safer than insecure here.
walking over to his desk, a black notebook sits atop with a pen to the side. ah, you notice the cap is missing, and you look for the miniscule thing all over the place. you find it on top of his dresser, and quickly put it back in its place.
you guess, there are some things that younghyun forgets, that he misses, but never the big picture.
you’re tempted to turn the pages over, but respect his privacy nonetheless. it might be lyrics he’s not ready to show anyone yet, and you of all people know what it’s like to write something new, a genre you haven’t dipped your pen in yet. it’s quite the daunting experience to bring it into the world, for other inquisitive eyes to read.
most of the time, younghyun’s words are never amiss. in fact, they always fall in the category of perfect, for you. you don’t like to admit that because he will never believe you, so it’s best to keep it a secret for yourself.
you enjoy his new releases better that way, making you feel more special in a sense that you’ve heard his melodies first. you’ve heard the stories behind these metaphors face to face.
you wish you could see him face to face right now.
before you forget, you pull out your phone and pull up younghyun’s messages with you. your text was sent three hours ago, and it was read which made you think okay, he’s seen it and acknowledged the fact that you’re coming over, maybe he’ll reply once he gets a break soon.
he never did.
you scroll up to the previous messages, a lot of back and forth short phrased responses that don’t mean as much as the way you guys would constantly bombard each other with long conversations.
have you eaten? yeah, a lot. you? yup, out with a friend rn. ight, stay safe. u too.
r u asleep? no, in the studio. oh, it’s super late. yeah, working on stuff. alright, text me when u’re home? i’ll try.
he never did.
feeling a tear fall down to your cheek, you wipe it away roughly and begin to type another text.
i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. do you remember our promise? please respond.
your hand hovers on the send button for longer than you thought, and you bite your lip in anticipation for a decision so foggy in your brain. should you? should you be this upfront and accusatory? it’s not that bad, right, because he did promise. and now you’re here, the only one taking care of that promise— what’s his excuse?
i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. are you coming back soon? is what you sent instead, feeling the lump on your throat getting bigger and your eyes welling up hot, salty tears. you try to compose yourself. sitting on the edge of his bed, hands going over his white sheets as a way to ground yourself.
you can’t cry, the walls are too thin and dowoon or wonpil will know. and wonpil will be too polite to leave you alone, and dowoon wouldn’t know how to confront the situation and just run to his room leaving wonpil by himself.
it felt like forever that you wake up uncomfortable lying down on younghyun’s bed. you blink a few times before sitting up straight, your side hurting from the way you fell asleep on the mattress. you straighten out the right half of your hair that had been messed up having plopped down on the pillow, and look for your phone in your purse.
it has been an hour since you got here, and no new notifications on your phone.
you have had a fair share of getting stood up on blind dates before meeting younghyun, and at one point you stopped caring. boys don’t deserve your tears, you’ve never even met them and if they thought you were fooled by their persona online, then they were dead wrong.
but this is younghyun, the guy who proved himself different. the guy who came to your first date spot prim and proper, an hour earlier than the designated time. to think you were actually going to cancel this one because it was too tiring, too predictable at this point.
but seeing his selfie that day, a table already reserved for the two of you and you haven’t even gotten ready yet, you felt guilty for assuming so wrongly of him.
two years later, you’re thinking you should have listened to your gut all this time.
as you are about to leave and practice what you have to say to the boys in the living room, the door opens and in comes a disheveled looking younghyun. his coat hangs on his arm, his hair a little haggard but his smile soon disappears upon seeing you invading his space.
“oh, you’re here.”
oh? you’re here?
you stand up from the bed, eyes directly staring at him just five feet away from you even though he feels like a galaxy away with that kind of answer.
“did you look at the texts i sent you?” you deadpan, trying your hardest not to seem fragile.
younghyun shakes his head, plops the coat on his dresser and shrugs. “i’ve been busy, did you need something?”
“you don’t remember?”
he stands rigidly, his own fox like eyes avoiding your burning stare. they focus on the wall, with his lips in a tight line.
he looks different to you.
there’s something about the younghyun in front of you that makes you question your presence in his room. and how unwanted he’s making you feel.
“younghyun, what’s going on?”
“what do you mean by that?”
“don’t play dumb with me. you promised, hell, we promised we would see each other tonight,” you remind him, your voice rising a pitch higher and it strains your throat. you drop your purse on his bed, and cross your arms defensively.
anything to make you feel safer in the cold that has entered the room once he got in.
“something came up, i’m sorry. you know how work has been,” younghyun explains nonchalantly, still refusing to see you. refusing to tell you the truth with his eyes.
it’s not enough anymore.
“you could have texted? you could have let wonpil or dowoon or even sungjin tell me that , you’re busy, you can’t even do that?”
“i don’t want to bother them.”
“well, younghyun, guess what? you’re bothering me!” your sudden outburst causes him to turn towards you, eyes wide and brows furrowed.
they definitely heard that, and they’re definitely listening from the outside. but any worries about your image towards his friends had gone out the window by now, only to be left with an ounce of desperation for an explanation. an answer. an apology, even.
he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you’re scared to break off the eye contact at this point. you’re determined to tell him you’re not really mad, just frustrated. you’re not holding a grudge, you just want to hear it from him that he didn’t mean to do this to you. that he didn’t mean to hurt you this way.
your vision gets blurry, but you force the tears to pool over your eyes and not fall down. not right now, not when his gaze is steel and intimidating.
“i’m leaving, stay as much as you’d like but i’m not going to be back until midnight,” he dismisses you, grabbing his coat to bring it with him.
a scorn burns on your mouth, words tasting like lead when you say: “leave, that’s all you know how to do.”
this stops him from his tracks. a pin can drop in the middle of the room, and you still can’t hear it. your thoughts are screaming, a headache forming on your temples not understanding how it’s come to this so suddenly.
you didn’t mean that, but now your tears are saying sorry for you. you sob standing up, arms on either side and hands shaking from the pent up frustration popping out of your veins.
you’re tired, so tired of being the one to adjust. of being the one to stay when he leaves, and foolishly wait for him to come back. only that he doesn’t, and this time he probably never will anymore.
“pull yourself together,” younghyun tells you, tone hinting pity which aggravates you further. he doesn’t look as mad anymore, but his shoulders are tense and his eyes fierce. “we can talk later. i have dinner with heejin and i still need to record kiss the radio later—”
“dinner? with who?” you snap, tears momentarily stopping with the mention of a name you’re unfamiliar of. “when did you schedule this? could it not have waited after tonight when i have been asking you for some time together for this very day?”
younghyun rakes his fingers through already unkempt hair forcefully, distaste in his mouth as he shoots back at you, “i told you i’ve been busy, heejin and i have a song together and it’s supposed to come out in two days so we’re meeting up as much as we can—”
“yeah, okay. over dinner, at a fancy restaurant away from a recording studio, am i right?”
“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“younghyun, it’s my fucking birthday,” you talk over him, your voice speaking over the loud beating of your heart. sweat drips down your temple, the headache hammering itself on your skull as the tears escape down the surface of warm cheeks. suddenly, you hear yourself laughing. monotonous, without emotion, as you see younghyun’s scowl snap into a look of confusion, then of realization.
“i know what the fuck i’m talking about, brian. and from the looks of it, you don’t. you never did.”
“you should have told me—”
“and i need to remind you of that? after knowing each other for years?” you snap back. the walls vibrate with the volume of your cries, and you hear a knock on the door and a person asking if everything is alright.
younghyun looks back, but doesn’t respond and turns to you with pained eyes, a fine line between guilt and feeling bitter. he knows he should have remembered. besides, your first date with him was on your birthday too.
“enjoy your fucking evening, brian. i’ll see myself out,” you mutter under hot breath, breathing hard and eyes red. grabbing your purse, you walk past the man you thought you knew. and now he just feels cold.
it stings when he grabs you, and he loosens his grip when you exclaim loudly. “brian, stop.”
“i’m sorry. i’m sorry i fucked up.”
“it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“yes, yes it does,” he pleads, pulling you closer to his body. you shiver, not liking the way he presses into you with a desperate attempt to forgive him. maybe if it wasn’t today, you’d drown yourself in his needy touches, inhale the scent you miss having all over your skin, kiss younghyun on the lips and understand he’s human too.
not anymore, not when all the chances you have given him were taken for granted, and there’s nothing left inside of you to give him another one. you’re all out, exhausted from the waiting, the forgiving, the crying. exhausted from it all.
“younghyun, let me go. please. i’m tired.”
he hesitates, but once you pull yourself off him he releases his stone cold grip. your eyes hover downward, face sticky from the tears you have shed.
no more.
coming out of his room, wonpil and dowoon are nowhere to be found anymore. it was only sungjin, sitting by the island counter, scrolling on his phone absent-mindedly. he notices your presence, looks up and offers you that warm smile of his even if his eyes sympathize with your heartbroken gaze.
“i’m so sorry,” he whispers.
you close your eyes, shake your head and offer a grateful smile. for him. “not your fault. i’m sorry you had to hear that. please let the others know i’m deeply sorry.”
“text me when you get home, okay?” sungjin hops off the barstool and places his hand on your shoulder this time, transferring the kind of warmth you have been needing all day, all week.
you know he’s just being kind, roped into the tail end of your disastrous break up with younghyun so you nod once. he doesn’t take it and adds, “i’m serious. if i don’t hear from you, i will text you. multiple times. you’ve seen me do it.”
with no escape from his compromise, you emit a small laugh and firmly nod this time. “okay, sungjin. thank you.”
“happy birthday, by the way,” he consoles you, and you do your best to keep another wave of pain locked up. you thank him, accepting the side hug he offers you, and make your way out the door.
as the breeze outside doesn’t do well in vanishing the evident sadness on your expression. you walk the streets of the city holding in a breath, careful not to attract too much attention to your lonely self.
you get home barely alive, shoes left on the doorstep and your clothes slithered off on the hallway. you text sungjin what he wanted to hear, and once you’ve landed on your bed, you let it all out again.
birthdays were never really a favorite “holiday” of yours before you met younghyun on this very same day two years ago.
it was as if being alive on this earth for another year was a favor given to you by fate, having to know younghyun even more as the days go by past it. as much as he created meaning to your birthday for the past two years, this time, younghyun had destroyed everything you built together.
the pieces are too small, much too fragile to make your heart whole again.
#young k imagines#young k scenarios#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#young k x reader#brian kang imagines#brian kang scenarios#day6 au#by:jiae
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all alone | kyh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: all alone
pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you
genre: heavy angst, fictional universe
words: 3.7k
inspired by: 50 proof by eaJ (give it a listen if you please, here)
author’s note: this is my first fic in years, feedback appreciated.
content warning: alcohol use, swearing, description of anxiety and loneliness
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
It’s not a matter of when, but of how you’re going to stop yourself. They keep saying it heals with time, but no one ever tells you how much time you need to feel completely fine again.
So, instead of waiting for that moment, you take it upon yourself to numb the pain inside. It’s easier to keep it bottled up, then pretend to wash it away with age-old whiskey taken from a nearly empty cabinet.
Your friend reminded you to buy anything other than 50 proof alcohol, but that’s what’s left on your grocery list nowadays.
She’d come by to keep you company, but there’s always an excuse. An emergency meeting, a family gathering, a blind date across town.
It’s okay, you text her repeatedly. At this point, you’d rather she focus on herself than judge you for decisions affecting your life.
The moment they get angry at you, it is time to push them away.
You’re not about to be the reason for another falling out; another heartbreak; another memory turned sour and hard to swallow.
A big gulp of fiery hot liquid comes into contact with your throat, and you exhale with a wince. Ah, just the way you think you like it.
But no one’s stopping you, so why not keep going? You haven’t reached your limit yet, even though you’re not sure what that would look like. It’s no matter, though, it’s your apartment— your bathroom floor, your money, and your own fate decided.
Once the tears trail down your cheek, you have a moment of self-awareness. What are you doing? Glancing at your slippers, sweaty oversized shirt, and frizzy strands of hair sticking out of your head— when exactly did you start looking like this and decided, “Yeah, I feel comfortable in my own skin.”?
You dart your tongue out slightly, tasting salt on the corner of your mouth. It’s wet as the tears keep coming. Tonight’s one of those nights, you laugh sarcastically.
You’re probably going to play russian roulette with your medicine cabinet tomorrow; you’ll either be lucky and find a couple of painkillers lying around or be reminded of the emptiness that surrounds you. Usually it’s the latter, but maybe you’ll be lucky this time?
You scoff loudly at the idea. Another gulp of alcohol, and it stops the tears momentarily. Just so you can indulge in the sound of your heavy breathing, vision blurring the sight of your kitchen.
Your phone lights up on the couch, buzzing and emitting a soft light that disturbs the dimness of the room. It can’t be your friend, it was a double date night with her co-worker, or some shit you don’t really care for. Although you remember pieces of memories that include you being in the same exact situation a few months prior; it’s a bit hazy now, probably due to the alcohol.
But also because you use what coordinated strength you have to approach the ringing sound. You can’t make up the caller ID which should be the first red flag that you shouldn’t answer the phone.
You never do when you’re like this, but something inside you just doesn’t care anymore.
You slide your finger across the screen, fumble through the circles you can make out until a static hum goes off louder than usual. Finally on speaker mode, you put the phone back on the couch as your body drops down on the floor.
Resting the bottle on your side, you cradle your heavy head against the palm of your hand and exhale a long drawn out, “Heyyyyyyy, who’s this?”
God, you sound horrible.
You hear nothing but static, and wonder if there never was a call at all. “Is anyone there? Hello? Hello?” You’re starting to get annoyed, grabbing hold of the bottle’s neck and taking a short swig. It causes you to cough, your fist pounding helplessly against your chest.
“What are you doing?” He sounds sad, disappointed, and concerned on the other end. You don’t know who it is, but the knots in his voice deem familiar to you, somehow.
“Who is this? I’m gonna call the cops on you,” you drawl out, not understanding your own logic. “Why are you calling me at—” you try and check for a watch on your wrist to no avail, so you leave the question at that.
Hiccuping, you blurt out, “I don’t know who you are.”
“It’s Younghyun. Leehi keeps calling me, asking to check up on you. Did you receive her messages?”
Frankly, you understood at least two words with his reply. Leehi and messages, immediately you seethe with anger once again. Your friend on the double date texted you? With droopy eyes, you check your notifications, and the caller is telling the truth.
10 text messages left unread, and none of those words she sent mean shit.
“Tell her to fuck off.”
“I won’t do that. Where are you? At the bar or in your apartment?” He keeps asking all these questions he doesn’t have the right to in the first place. You feel your face scrunch up in frustration, figuring out who’s so concerned at your well-being so randomly on a Thursday night.
“I’m not telling you anything. I don’t know you! Please stop bothering me, sir,” your voice cracks in the end, a semblance of fear creeping up onto you. This is why you never answer calls with alcohol controlling your system.
“It sounds quiet in there, so you’re in your apartment,” he continues, ignoring your nonsensical pleas. “I’m nearby, can you please stay put for another 20 minutes or so? I’m coming to check up on you.”
“I told you I’m calling the police if you even come near my doorstep!” Your frantic tone causes your body to shiver, welled up tears leaving eyes that start to sting.
No one has been at your apartment for months; it’s not that they don’t ask. You don’t want them to come in. You don’t want anyone to see how you’ve been when you’re all alone.
He calls your name on the other end, and again, and again he whispers it like a gentle reminder. A song to soothe your anxious mind, and it works. For a moment, you remember the feeling of comfort and security in the form of arms wrapped around you, and this very same voice to calm you down.
“It’s Younghyun, okay? Please take deep breaths, you’re okay. You’ll be okay. I’m on my way very soon,” Younghyun instructs. His hushed voice contrasts your shaking whimpers, yet you follow what he says with relative ease. It’s so familiar, fragments of flashbacks filling your mind one after the other.
“Please unlock the door soon so I can come inside. I don’t have a spare key anymore,” he continues. That’s weird, he always had it to access your apartment whenever he wanted. You were the one to insist on that, too, since he basically lived with you for… a while.
Reality tries to get in the way of the memories, you block it off for just a little bit more with the last drop of alcohol. It should last you throughout the night.
In a daze, you do what Younghyun told you: unlock the door, and take deep breaths. You don’t want to be completely sober, so you refrain from drinking water even if your throat has been begging you to.
A lucky soju bottle hides itself from an empty carton of milk inside the fridge, so you grab it hastily. No shot glasses needed, you go straight for it.
Younghyun didn’t tell you to stop, so why should you? But something in your stomach suggests you do. It’s a wincing pain you’ve had before, but this time it digs deeper than that. A liver concern, dehydration, or perhaps guilt?
You couldn’t think any longer as you heard a soft knock against the front door. Followed by Younghyun coming in quietly, his steps barely audible. As if he’s never set foot in your apartment before. Or at least, maybe it feels different this time.
As if you haven’t seen him and remember his presence anymore.
“Hey,” he greets you quietly, and his voice is so much better in person. “It’s dark in here.”
You’re not sure how to move forward from here. You’re back on the floor, head laying weirdly on the couch that your neck has started to hurt. Your hands hold tight onto the soju bottle as if it’s about to be taken away from you. It’s the one tangible thing keeping you grounded. Your mind begins to float away again upon seeing Younghyun’s face.
He has that effect on you, but you didn’t consider it ever happening in months.
You think you’re sleepy, but really you become hyper aware of his every move. It’s just hard to see with droopy eyes, and the silent steps he takes on the hardwood floor.
He turns the light on the hallway to the bathroom, and even with its faintness you squint at the source of any kind of brightness in the room.
“Sorry, I just didn’t want to step on anything,” Younghyun apologizes. He places a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and takes out what looks to be a bottle.
Definitely not alcohol, you frown.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” you tell him first, the croak of your voice so heavily dissimilar to the friendliness of his. Yours sound guarded, unsure of yourself. “I have this,” you add as you sway the soju bottle in the air. The liquid spills on top of your head, and Younghyun is quick to take it away from you.
“H-hey—” you argue, but the cold bottle of water has now replaced your source of alcohol, and your lips continue to curl downard. Younghyun shortly laughs at your reaction, but you don’t find it funny.
“That was mine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Give it back.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Prick,” you mutter under your breath. “Don’t let it go to waste, then, drink.”
Younghyun sighs, shaking his head while meeting your figure on the floor. The soju bottle remains on the counter, out of your reach. His slanted eyes point towards the neglected bottle around your grasp.
You find yourself staring mindlessly, his face showing smooth textures and a hint of base make up doning his features. You’re in awe, just like before, of the beauty in front of you. So close to touch, just the tip of your fingertips to graze against his skin.
If only you didn’t feel so guilty and looked like shit.
“Staring at me won’t make you sober up any sooner,” he chastises you, sitting with his legs crossed. He looks dapper, a fine suit without a tie and two buttons opened up. Was he at a photoshoot? A company dinner? A date?
That last thought shoots a strange numbing sensation on your chest.
“Why are you here?”
Younghyun looks taken aback at your bluntness. It doesn’t seem like you’re drinking that water anytime soon as your focus shifts at his presence in your apartment. He lets it go this time, then, entertains your question for the sake of your satisfaction.
“I told you. Leehi called me. She’s been worried about you recently.”
“Oh, has she?” You sass him just for the sake of it.
“Yes,” Younghyun doesn’t give in to your bluff, his voice suddenly firm and unnerving. “She cares about you a lot, and I understand if she hasn’t had the time to come see you very often anymore, but she works long hours and—”
“Why are you defending her? Did you just come here to lecture me like a little kid? I know how the world works, Younghyun. I know people can be busy, and that they have their own fucking problems to deal with. I know, okay? Fuck, I know that!”
The words just leave your mouth like poison, it was ready to spill out of your guts all of a sudden. It just needed an opportunity to.
You didn’t expect it to come tonight— in front of Younghyun, out of everyone.
Maybe that would slap him cold and hard with what’s going on. Maybe that’s the final straw with you, not the uninviting welcome to your apartment, not the refusal to drink the water he’s bought you, but the words you have spoken. It’s always been the most hurtful.
You avoid his gaze, suddenly feeling small and even more guilty of how you’re acting. You know you’re not supposed to lash out like this, you hate angry confrontations that can be avoided. But this is why you drink alone, cry alone, and fall asleep when the sun goes up— alone.
Younghyun was never supposed to be here witnessing this.
Just like how you predicted, you see him stand up and walk away. It’s what you deserve, right? No one ever wanted to stay.
But you don’t hear the door slam shut following his departure. You don’t hear his footsteps trudge their way out of the door, out of your life once again.
Younghyun approaches the corner of the living room where the heater is, and turns it on.
“I don’t know how you do it, but I won’t be able to stand the cold like this,” he says with the same gentle, knowing tone of his. “I hope you don’t mind me turning the heat on a little bit. Are you warm, though?”
You don’t understand what’s going on.
Yes, it’s been a chilly autumn season but not that you cared. The alcohol hits you from within, igniting unfound frustration, anger, and desperation in every corner of your soul then almost instantly numbs it all for you.
With parted, dry lips you manage a meek shake of the head. The sweat on your shirt dried up, and your shorts aren’t doing any better making you feel cozy either. You compensate by hugging yourself, the condensation of the bottled water touching the goosebumps on your skin.
“You should probably drink that before it gets lukewarm,” Younghyun suggests, walking three steps forward to sit next to your figure. He gives you space, almost like a shield in between your bodies in which either of you are afraid of breaking.
Finally, you relent to his wish and chug the water in seconds. It cools your throat along with your state of mind. A bit more stable now, with the way you see things, and process your surroundings. Your conscious eyes land on Younghyun’s worried gaze, and you struggle not to fall back into them.
“I’m… not really mad at Leehi, I hope she knows that,” you quip quietly. The haziness drifts away from your consciousness and floats midair. It clings to the barrier in between you and Younghyun, frosting up unseen glass as Younghyun studies your features carefully. And he waits for more of what you have to say.
You don’t follow through anymore, so he adds to the conversation. “I’m sure she knows. She’s just concerned about you.”
You reply with a subtle nod, wishing you had more water to drink.
“I’m worried about you, too.”
And he says the magic words that start the first broken piece of glass stopping you from seeing him eye to eye. You turn your figure away from his sitting one, knowing that the more you attempt to find the answers in his eyes the harsher the tears will come from your own.
“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine.” What a massive fucking lie, you think bitterly. It’s not like you to lie out loud, You say what’s on your mind when needed. And if it isn’t, then you know best not to bother others and keep it to yourself.
“C’mon, we both know that’s not true,” Younghyun disagrees— in the most polite way he can that it hurts. It hurts to hear him pander to your childish behavior right now, to have him tiptoe his way around your insecurities.
This is what you didn’t want to happen, and yet in the end you meet your own demise this way.
“How can I help?” He urges on.
He can’t.
“I want you to feel better.”
You won’t.
“Please tell me how.”
You don’t even know the answer to that.
He sighs, but he tries hard not to let it bother you. Younghyun’s always been like that, so perfect and so accommodating. Wasn’t that supposed to be a sweet gesture from a lover? To know your needs, and meet you in the middle. You basically met a match made in heaven with him years ago.
What went wrong?
“I can’t believe you still have that shirt,” Younghyun points out. He pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight. He’s trying to look so small, innocent.
It’s funny, you think, and recall the nights he convinces you to be the big spoon for once. His sturdy frame was difficult for your arms to gather in one warm embrace, but whenever you tried he never complained. And it was nice.
You try to regain focus, and look down at the shirt you’re wearing. The print has faded so much that anyone who didn’t know its history wouldn’t have guessed what words were imprinted on it originally. But you do, and for a moment you thought you had forgotten— or at least, actively erased from your mind.
But this shirt has always made you feel like you have a sense of connection to this world, to a person you once held in your arms.
“I can’t believe we had Dowoon design that logo before. Nobody really told us how it really looked,” Younghyun chuckles in the night air, temperature going up a few degrees.
It wasn’t hot, you weren’t bothered, it was just… right.
And suddenly, you remember what he’s talking about. Because you were there, and you were this close to dropping the truth onto them that yes, it’s hideous, no one will buy your merch, but the grin on their faces and the spark of excitement in the room was too huge to disrupt. You then convinced yourself that yes, their fans won’t mind, they love you for your music. They love you for you.
You were supposed to love Younghyun for who he is.
“I liked it— eventually,” you admit and Younghyun raises an eyebrow. Defending yourself before he gets a say, you add, “It’s a sort of charm you and the others had. Up and coming in the scene, innocent boys singing their hearts out because you have nothing better to do.”
“Hey now, I was in college with you. I had midterms literally the day after our first official gig,” Younghyun corrects you lightly, and you do remember that. You’re starting to remember it all, like a kaleidoscope of days, weeks, and years through Younghyun’s starry eyes.
You don’t realize the barrier has begun to shatter until you feel the heat of his hands hovering over yours.
“What is it? Tell me, please. Tell me what’s on your mind,” you hear him say repeatedly. He has even moved so much closer to you, his hands grasping yours the way you held the bottle of whisky for nights on end.
He holds you like he cares, like he doesn’t want for you to disappear. For a second time.
“I let you go. I let you go, and now I’m left with nothing but haunted memories of you. Of us,” you sob into him, the sturdiness of his body keeping you from shaking terribly.
Younghyun wraps his arms around you, the way he would when you fell asleep waiting for him late at night on the weekends. Younghyun cradles your fragile figure within his tight embrace, the same way he’d tuck you in bed when fatigue overcomes your system. Even when he’s tired himself, even when he’s on a tightrope of his own priorities— he made you his first.
But you didn’t want that, you knew that wasn’t good for him, his career. The peak of his fame alongside friends he’s known as family for so long would be right around the time you decided to move to a different city and pursue your own passion.
There was no way it’d work. You’d be too far away from their studio, his and his bandmates’ apartment, the company building, everything. Everything Younghyun built from the ground up with his talent, his opportunistic mind, his own purpose in life.
The visits happened less often, the calls coming in at hours you couldn’t accommodate for anymore. People flock to him, and it’s the sort of crowd you flinch at, disassociate yourself with, it’s not who you want to be.
But it was Younghyun’s, and you loved him so much to take that away from him.
And yet, in the place you’ve buried yourself deep; hours away from where you once lived with Younghyun, months after the dreaded decision you falsely stood your ground for. He’s here, with you.
Does he still love you now?
“Don’t think too much right now, okay? You worry your pretty face with all your troubled thoughts like that,” Younghyun reassures you softly. If you had the strength to react to his superfluous words, you’d do so just like before. But exhaustion overcomes you— from the drinking, the sobbing, and the weight of your guilt draping over Younghyun’s shoulders as he embraces you even further.
You don’t deserve such warmth, such tender love, you hurt him. He can’t love you after that.
“I’m sorry—”
“No,” Younghyun shakes his head, ruffling your hair next to his face. He lets you go for half a second, and before you know it his hands are secured around your waist again. You don’t protest, but your eyes seem mesmerized by the way his demand you to see him.
“I’m sorry,” he shares your words, “for not coming sooner.”
The next sunrise doesn’t sting you in the eyes this time. This time, you fall asleep without nightmares accompanying you in bed. And this time, you wake up to what seems like a beloved past of yours. But it’s not, it’s the next day, and Younghyun stayed.
You let him.
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• stress-free | kwp
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: stress-free
pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you (she/her pronouns)
genre: FLUFF, college!au
words: 3.4k
author’s note: @pirimiritiddy requested a fic about wonpil, and here it is. it went on for longer than i previously planned, buuuuut. i hope it’s still okay aaaa
(this is the 1st time i’ve written something for wonpil so if i get his personality wrong, i do apologize. i am also a baby myday huhu)
this dot fic (bullet style) is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario that i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: dowoon (currently only 2/5 completed)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
wonpil hates his schedule for this winter term
who assigns a class that is only available at seven in the evening??
3 times a week
during THE WINTER
did he mention it’s a major lecture he’s required to take??
psychology of stress, more like
this class is giving him the kind of stress it is specifically warning its students about
anyway, what can he say. he chose this major, there’s only 1 more term after this one and then finally: graduation
it’ll be fine, he’ll live
thank the heavens they didn’t need to attend the first two meetings, but some reading material was provided
and was expected by the professor to have been read and reflected upon
the class is really living up to its name because when wonpil opened the pdf
it was 30 pages of tiny font sized sentences (for ants!) about the definition of stress and how it affects every part of the body yada yada yada
wonpil tried. he really tried
that is to say he fell asleep on his desk while going over the same 20th page of the document
if it weren’t for jae shaking him awake, he’d miss his first night class
it would’ve been nice… if only the professor didn’t take attendance (something about being generous enough to make the first 2 classes “free,” so everyone has an obligation to come in for the remainder of the semester)
great, he’s stuck freezing his ass off just walking to the bus stop alone
hopefully they turn the heater all the way up in the auditorium or else
the thousands spent in tuition would have literally been for nothing
overdramatic wonpil, can you blame him
he thinks about reading the remaining 10 pages on the bus, even if he knows nothing of value will be absorbed
he wants to tries anyway, he does feel a little bit refreshed from that impromptu nap
the bus has arrived, and it’s packed as usual; a lot of the students riding the shuttle are just yet to take off in the following stops
wonpil squeezes his way inside, 30 pages of stress psychology research gripped in both hands
“excuse me, sorry,” wonpil mumbles, eyeing for a spot to sit to make him comfortable
because once all the people standing up leave, it’s usually a race for the exit
he’ll never understand college students
finally, he sees an empty seat way in the back. there was a girl on one end and two other students who seem to be ready to get off on the right side
wonpil doesn’t mind sitting next to someone, but once those 2 are gone he’ll just scoot over to give the girl on the left some privacy
she seems very much in deep sleep anyway, wonpil wonders if her stop is coming or she’s riding to go to campus?
wonpil doesn’t have time to think about other people, it causes him unnecessary stress
once sat down, his eyes focus on the last page he left off of
the words register as gibberish in his brain, and with the bus moving so much it makes it even more difficult to follow along the paragraphs
wonpil takes in a deep breath, holds it in, and sighs very heavily
his patience is usually the best out of his friends, but this class is turning more and more into the psychology of how to get you stressed tf out instead
the bus nears its next stop, and the two people on his side stand up to leave, yes he can breathe normal air
however
hold on
his shoulder feels heavy
turning his head slightly, for some reason once the bus had stopped its engine the girl’s head had flipped over to lean against wonpil’s shoulder instead
oh no oh no oh no
his shoulders suddenly freeze, as if blasted with a ray gun filled with ice
it’s heavy and he can’t move, it’s numb and this girl’s hair is splayed all over his his sweater
and she
she smells of coffee, and wonpil inhales it in
it’s not foul or anything, but it’s definitely exuding notes of espresso bean and freshly roasted coffee
it makes wonpil feel a little more awake
but he still can’t move his shoulders, and suddenly he’s panicking because the bus started moving again and even though capacity has lessened by 80%
someone decided to sit on the other end of the row he’s at
so if he even attempts to move, he’ll still be seated next to someone
wonpil grumbles, lower lip jutting forward
something shifts
and he realizes he shook his shoulders a little bit with his frustration
“ah…” he exclaims inaudibly, panicking at the possibility that he had woken her up from her nap
wonpil tenses up, shoulders stiff and eyes peering at his side to see what she’s up to
she lifts her head just a few inches off of wonpil’s shoulder, and for a moment he’s relieved that maybe she realizes what’s going on
but wonpil only hears a soft yawn coming from her, and she returns to using his very rigid shoulder as her pillow during this bus ride
let’s just say that the next thirteen minutes was more stress-inducing than wonpil wanted it to be
right when the bus reaches the final stop (main campus), wonpil exerts any and all efforts he has to shake his shoulder, up and down, enough to elicit an awake response from this stranger
the moment he feels her let up, wonpil dashes through that bus door like there’s no tomorrow
he is greeted with the coldest wind hitting his face, and his shoulder feeling numb from all the.. pillow roleplaying it did, if you will
wonpil feels bad, borderline guilty for leaving her like that— what if she’s asleep until now?? he can almost hear soft snores from her end for a minute there, too, and it took so much of wonpil to resist chuckling at it while in panic mode simultaneously
suffice to say, he was not able to read the rest of the document
in wonpil’s defense, he had encountered it first hand — how stress overcomes one’s body and mind
he forces himself to focus on what’s ahead, as boring as it sounds
he enters the lecture hall with a few minutes so spare, deciding to sit in the back
the projector screens are big and wonpil is not about to take his chances of getting called on today
luckily enough, he finds a row with visibly no other student sitting around the area
shoulder feeling more alive, he comes back to his senses as well
he takes off his outer sweater as it had become toastier inside. he still had a couple layers beneath his clothes
as the professor starts talking, wonpil finds himself yawning a few times
he doesn’t know if the video playing on screen is boring him or the girl in the bus affected his sleepiness
suddenly he remembers the smell of coffee, and how that’d sound real good right about now
he slaps both of his cheeks lightly, trying to take him back in the zone of at least writing down important notes
he’s on the fifth bullet point of his note-taking when the door behind him opens abruptly
it wasn’t loud or disrupting to the whole class, virtually no one even batted an eye
but thats because they’re far from the door
and wonpil is literally ten feet away, so when he feels the cold suddenly hit his back he had to know the source of the sudden hit in temperature
the class hadn’t been going on for less than an hour, and there have been students coming in on the other end of the auditorium
so wonpil isn’t that surprised that another student has just arrived
he caught a glimpse of her hair, but that’s about it as wonpil goes back to his tedious notes
until the very same person scoots herself in wonpil’s row
he huffs under his breath, the illusion of some privacy now shattered
with a polite (semi-forced) smile, wonpil turns to the side to greet his classmate
again, wonpil becomes frozen in spot
kind of like when you feel a magnetic pull somewhere, you follow it
and then suddenly you see it from afar, not believing your eyes if it’s actually real; if it’s actually there
in wonpil’s case, he’s one seat away from her
recognizing the flow of her hair, but more importantly
that distinct scent of coffee beans from her clothes
this time, wonpil has a clear look on her face and he’s… speechless
his polite smile has turned into a look of awe, eyes glued towards her
she senses his gaze, turns to him and quickly bows down as a polite greeting
“sorry, but has the class been going on for a while?”
she speaks
“oh, um, what— what?”
“oh,” she looks confused, but rephrases her question, “what time did the class start? i had a hard time finding this lecture hall.”
she’s talking to him, not just leaning her head on his shoulder
“seven”
was all wonpil could say
“it started at 7? cool, i’m not that late then!” she cheers, grinning shyly. wonpil watches the way she puts a strand of hair tucked beneath her ear. she’s pulling out her laptop from her bag when she notices a pair of wide eyes still on her person
“is… is this seat taken?” she asks, and wonpil hasn’t even taken in the fact that this is the same person from the bus
“yes”
tongue-tied wonpil strikes again, blinking back his own obliviousness to her question
“i mean— no, now it is, by you. you’re sitting there, um, i— feel free to sit wherever you want”
he’s scrambling for his words, flustered cheeks heating up amidst the warmth of the room
she just nods her head in understanding, and wonpil finally realizes he’s been staring at her direction for longer than he should have
“STRESS”
the professor verbalized into her mic which causes wonpil to look to the front all of a sudden
right, right. he’s at a lecture. what’s gotten him so fidgety and embarrassed and now all that he’s pretending to type on his google doc is
sdfjfjdfhshllsghgjghsh
just so he looks busy next to the girl who fell asleep on him on the bus
was there any point in preoccupying his mind with thoughts of her, and her head resting on him? no it’s stupid, wonpil knows this.
people do it all the time, by accident, due to exhaustion, they don’t mean a thing by it
but wonpil is curious, and this is going to kill him. for sure
so he peeks at her again, and like a normal, decent student that she is (compared to wonpil at this point let’s be real) her hands are busy hand writing whatever the professor was saying
meanwhile, wonpil continues to sdfjskgnglddfjs his way to a passing B in this class
even in this large, spacious lecture hall he can still take in her scent
maybe it’s a new perfume that’s up and coming, that’s why it smells so strongly on her
oh! he can ask that? hey, do you mind sharing what line of perfume you’re using? it smells really good
it sounds like a common question, right? i mean if you wear strong fragrances you’re bound to be asked a question about it
he’s about to ask, he really was so ready to ask, what was he gonna lose? his dignity?
over a simple, inquisitive question?
“and now before we go on a twenty minute break, it’s time to introduce yourself to the person sitting close to you”
...
why do college professors have to do this?
wonpil bites his lip, at this point in time he’s a senior who’s fed up with ice breakers like this. if it were any other person sitting next to him, in front of him, behind him— he would just go with his usual introduction
“hi i’m kim wonpil, studying psychology and i graduate in the spring. i’m taking this class for a major requirement”
then go about his merry way.
but with her? she and him have history
sort of, and it’s the kind of history that is recent and wonpil is unsure if she is even aware of the weird string of fate-like connection they have
or, wonpil, hear your consciousness out
it’s not a big deal, and in the scenario she doesn’t remember she fell asleep on the bus on another person
then you can just say hi like usual, and cut the string of fate there and then
(but does wonpil really want that?)
“hi”
oh crap she’s started it
wonpil braces himself for whatever outcome this interaction comes out to. he’ll let her speak, and tailor his response from there
“i’m sorry, this might be really weird but that’s your sweater, right?”
so she didn’t give her name, her major, anything substantial about herself but instead shoots wonpil a question
pointing at the sweater that’s draped on the seat in front of wonpil
wonpil doesn’t even check to look. he gulps, nods his head and squeaks, “yeah… why?”
something in her eyes flash by, almost like a glint of recognition
she puts a hand on her mouth, and wonpil can make out the faintest shade of pink blushing its way to her ears
it’s kinda cute
“did someone happen to… fall asleep on you on the bus coming to campus today?”
“... yes?”
“that was me” she buries her face even further into her hands, almost lowering down to the chair
wonpil thought she was gonna fall for some reason so he had to remedy the situation somewhat
“i.. i, um, did you have a good nap?”
great comeback
wonpil was so ready to leave the auditorium and never come back after the break
but he hears her giggle, and slowly come out of her shyness
and it’s a sweet sight, to finally see the way her cheeks look full of embarrassed laughter
as she twirls around a length of hair nervously
and taps the pen on the surface of her desk repeatedly
it was endearing, and wonpil forgets about why he was panicking in the first place
she then explains that she had work the whole day, and only had an hour to rest up before going to this 7pm class
wonpil listens intently, watching her mannerisms and the lilt in her voice when she continues to apologize for falling asleep on him without realizing it
“i’m not usually a deep sleeper, but work was exceptionally tiring today and i just needed at least a bit of shut eye” wonpil nods understandingly, almost worried about her health
“where do you work if you don’t mind me asking?”
“at the coffee shop a few blocks away from campus,” she answers, head tilting to the side “i’m still wearing my uniform for it… is it too obvious?”
wonpil didn’t even realize her black long sleeves was a cafe uniform
but it did explain her strong coffee smell
“something like that,” wonpil decided to say, curling his lips upward, feeling content and relieved at the turnout of events
for the 20 minute break, wonpil thought they’d reconcile over what transpired between them and mind their own business soon enough— even if he thinks it’s hard to do that now knowing something about her
which intrigues wonpil
and, quite frankly, he’d like to talk to her more
just so he has an excuse to watch her emotions paint her face beautifully
but there was a pause right after their short conversation
and in real Awkward Wonpil Fashion, he shows her the 30 page reading material, in all of its flimsy glory and starts asking questions about it
“so uh did you read the whole thing? i thought it was interesting up until the part that i dozed off”
and wonpil got his wish; he sees her eyes shine in surprise at his sudden attempt of an intellectual discussion
but she doesn’t deter him away
and actually, she’s read the whole damn thing. and wonpil was beyond amazed at the level of detail she explains to him about the parts he didn’t understand
he actually starts typing real notes while she was talking
this made her laugh in between her explanations, and wonpil didn’t understand what was so funny about
the fight or flight response
“it’s just. the way you’re typing this down so seriously, i’m sure the prof can explain it better”
wonpil shakes his head no, shakes it so much it hurt his temples
she laughs again, and he likes hearing that sound
“do you want to see what i’ve typed the past hour and a half of this class?’
“bet :p”
“actually nevermind” flashbacks of dsfkjsdjffdslkg ring true in wonpil’s mind as he quickly backspaces the nonsense in his notes
and the conversation continues from more psychology talks, to figuring out they’re in the same major but she’s a recent transfer student from last year
and had been juggling work and school since the start of her senior year
wonpil wonders why he hasn’t seen her in the coffee shop yet
he would have done a double take the first time meeting her there for sure
“oh you’re too kind,” she suddenly replies???
wonpil had said his thoughts out loud
without further embarrassing him, she says that she had only started working there since it’s more convenient for her; wonpil feels grateful she doesn’t dwell on the compliment any longer
alas, the break finishes and the droll of the professor’s voice reverberates throughout the room
this time, though, wonpil definitely feels more alert (awake enthusiastic) as the two of them exchange little comments about the class material
and before you know it, class is over and wonpil is an excited bunny. since they’re by the door they got to leave before everyone else
wonpil thinks it’s time to part ways… but this time they’re not fully strangers at all. they’re taking the same class, same major, they even know each other’s name.
surely this isn’t the last time, right?
“hey, wonpil…” he didn’t even realize that they have started walking towards the bus stop together
“hm?”
“i think i owe you one,” she starts, stopping her tracks to face him. eyebrows up in hesitation, wonpil waits for her to finish
“you know, for taking over your personal space for my own comfort”
“oh that? haha that’s nothing :)” honestly if wonpil can do it again he’d volunteer in a heartbeat
“no, really. let me make it up to you. coffee? on me? i make a mean cappuccino” she winks
it strikes through wonpil’s heart
no need for resuscitation.. yet
“or a matcha latte? whatever you’d like it’ll be on me”
“anything!” wonpil exclaims, suddenly realizing the offer being given to him, the excitement bubbling up inside him again. “i mean, anything you’d like to have me try. surprise me,” he corrects himself
that manages to have her grin widely, eyes twinkling in excitement similar to wonpil’s and he thinks
they can get along
they can get to know each other better this way
“would you be up to go for one now?”
“oh— oh! now?”
“yeah, that way none of us takes the risk of falling asleep back on the bus hehe”
well, he really wouldn’t mind that happening a second time
“really now, wonpil?”
andddd he exposed himself again
it’s fine, she tugs his hand slightly to lead him to the bus that has arrived and wonpil follows in a daze
it’s a little full, so they have no other choice but to stand and hold onto the railings above
“guess no falling asleep here…” she teases, and now wonpil can’t use his hands to hide his blushing face
but the feeling of her just close by
and the scent of coffee lingering in the air
in between them
just inches away from each other
it’ll do for now
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#kim wonpil scenarios#kim wonpil imagines#kim wonpil x reader#day6 fic#dot series#by:jiae
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raining | kyh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: raining
pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you
genre: fluff, fictional universe
words: 4.4k
was listening to this playlist while writing.
author’s note: overwhelmingly cliche, like kdrama levels of it. be forewarned. i am in my youngk feelings tonight, folks. i just wanted to write something sickeningly cute & i think i achieved it lol. do enjoy, regardless.
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
The moment you step outside the door, you immediately regret it. You were never one to love the cold, you actually welcome it— but when signs of heavy rain are bound to happen within the hour or so it’s not advisable for anyone to enjoy a walk outside.
You pull on the ends of your sweaters even more, keeping the tips of your fingers enclosed in the warmth of the fabric. A slight yet wintry breeze whispers against your ear and you shiver involuntarily. It was a win-win situation to cover your head with the hoodie as your hair had seen better days before, and it keeps you extra protected from the cold.
The convenience store was a mere ten to fifteen walk from your street, it shouldn’t be a big deal. So here you are, shuddering in house clothes, trudging your way to the nearest mart to snag yourself a cup of noodles or two, and maybe buy a drink to keep you toasty on the way back.
Hands tucked in between your sides, you briskly make your way to your destination. At eight in the evening on a weeknight, there seems to be a couple of people enjoying a chilly stroll outside.
Well, the only difference is that they’re all dressed for the occasion: thick coats, thicker scarves, and an overwhelming sense of excitement for this weather.
“They better go home soon before it starts to rain,” you mumble under your breath, costing a fog to escape in front of you. It looks nice, though, that they have one or another person accompanying them tonight. Some with hands held tight and others just comfortably walking side by side.
The sudden chattering of your teeth makes you question your bitter sentiment. You decide not to think about it any further as you approach the blinding lights of the convenience store.
Pushing the door open with some elbow grease (they really need to replace that), you’re welcomed with a whiff of plastic packaged items, coffee brewing on the side, and the silent hum of cash registers at the front.
You’re starting to feel the heat of the inside replace your slight shivering, but you ought to keep the hood on and make the trip as fast as possible.
Walking towards the ramen aisle, your eyes widen at the sheer possibilities of microwavable meals you can have tonight: curry-flavored, spicy seafood, extra hot with three Xs, it’s shameful that you find these all so appealing.
Before your mouth waters embarrassingly, you grab three cups of your choice and cradle them in one hand securely. Moving over to the chilled section, you check the price of a small container of kimchi to see if you’re lucky enough to spice up your dinner for tonight.
Unfortunately, you don’t think it fits your budget, recalling that you just grabbed a couple of coins from the counter before leaving the apartment.
Somehow, while being preoccupied by the fact that you can’t have any kimchi, your head collides against someone’s back. In the most awkward encounter that can happen, cups of noodles drop on the floor. Your hoodie falls off your head, revealing the hair you’re trying to keep away from the public.
With heated cheeks, you apologize profusely to this person’s back, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking!” You don’t even wait for them to turn around as you quickly bend down and grab your items.
He picks them up before you do.
You get a glimpse of him in the seconds he’s bent down; his hair parted in the middle with a little curl to them, roots are dark brown but everything else of a faded grey, his thick brown coat nicely shaping his shoulders, and as he slowly stand upright you have a clear view of a black turtleneck that hugs his neck perfectly, and his face—
“No worries, it happens,” he tells you casually, holding onto your dropped items. His eyes are slanted and yet you see gentleness in them. As he gives you a small smile, you notice his high cheekbones protruding from such graceful features.
The sudden warmth emanating from your thrift-store find sweater makes your face feel like it’s about to erupt from embarrassment. You scramble over to grab your cup of noodles from his grasp, grazing the skin on his hands. Even that sensation felt so soft for such a short period of interaction.
You do need to go out and see people more.
“T-thanks,” you manage to blurt out. From all the apparent staring you’ve done in the past minute or so, you find your eyes glued on the floor intensely.
“Excuse me…” you trail off almost inaudibly, but he gives you space in the aisle you’ve collided so you can stand in line for the register.
It felt like an eternity being face to face with him as people have formed a queue to pay already, but you will yourself not to look back. It was a… lucky accident?
If you can call it that— you still look like you haven��t unearthed yourself from your hermit cave for months. And him— well, to put it frankly, he just looked unreal to be sauntering his way at a local convenience store.
You shake your head, quickly pull up your hoodie once again and tighten the straps a little bit more forcefully this time.
It’s hard to hide the shame, but at least your hair will be out of sight again.
Impatiently, you tap your foot with the sound of the clock on the wall. Some problem of some kind with the scanner up front was causing the line to lag, and not to say so first-world problem-haver, but the less time you spend in here, the more time you can scream into your pillow back home.
A stretch of the neck, you look up, down, and side to side. On your left, your eyes catch something too familiar.
Something in the universe is clearly toying with you because as soon as you crane your head just a tad bit further, you find the same gorgeous man standing behind you. He’s looking somewhere else, eyes pointed in the distance and his lips pursed together in thought.
Why. Is He. So. Cute. Just standing there like that?
“Hi,” you see his lips move, voice low but friendly. “Your ramen alright there?”
“Me?” you squeak out. His eyes train themselves on you, and for a second he looks just as confused. But he comes back with a short laugh, and you feel like shrinking into dust.
But it doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at you, it wasn’t mean or said with a grimace at all.
He nods his head confirming your silly question and adds, “Yes, the ones you’re holding onto for dear life in there.”
“These?” you ask again, like a complete dysfunctional human machine. “Oh, um— yeah. They’re fine. Hahaha,” you reply and you sound nervous.
You shouldn’t be, he’s asking a legitimate question and you’re making it out to be like an interrogation! Snap out of it, reprimanding yourself in the head. This is not how you talk to people at all.
“Good.” He continues smiling at you, but his eyes shift elsewhere. Well, that’s probably your cue to stop this uncomfortable situation for yourself, and for his good as well.
But he’s still talking, and addressing you it seems.
“I think it’s your turn.”
“Hi, I can take your stuff right here, miss.”
“Yes, please! Thanks,” you hurry off to the front, out of breath and out of words left to speak.
There was no point to keep looking back, you’ve done your part acting the way you did. Maybe you should have just waited until tomorrow to get groceries, you would have benefitted from sleeping in earlier than showcasing how clumsy you can be to a complete stranger. (Not to mention someone your type.)
The employee speedily checks out your items and puts them in a paper bag. She asks if there was anything else you’d like, and you contemplate on the hot coffee that you wanted. You pull out the coins and one lone paper bill you had in your pockets to assess if it’s within your budget.
“Is this enough for what I got?” you lay out your change and then some on the counter. It may be your imagination, but it feels like the guy behind you is watching. You shift to the side slightly to hide the fact that you’re paying with coins.
She glances at your choice of payment, and says words that could literally be the cause of your death tonight. “I’m sorry, do you have an extra fifty cents? These would only pay for three of your cup noodles, miss.”
Robbed of one, already cheap choice of dinner tonight, her voice seemed to increase in volume revealing your insufficient amount of cash on hand to everyone in the store.
She watches as you blink your eyes tight, face squirming hard.
“It’s okay… I’ll just get those that I can pay for,” you respond meekly, and she nods. You don’t hear anything else anymore, maybe she was offering a coupon or whatever, you had one mission and one thing in mind only: get the hell out of there.
You take the paper bag, bow your head in thanks, and head out the door faster than you can realize that the rain had started pouring hard for what seemed like a few minutes prior.
Now your sweater is drenched, your paper bag is starting to crumble from the bottom, and you didn’t bring an umbrella.
Nor do you have any money or phone with you to call a cab to your apartment.
In an effort to keep some parts of you not wet, you keep to yourself just barely outside of the store where the roof is still hanging; just enough to cover half of your body from the pouring rain. It’s amazing, you think, what absolute god must you have angered for you to be stuck in something so stupid like this?
You can’t go back in the store, the guy is still there— suddenly you realize with a panic in your heart. He’ll see you here, right next to the door, waiting for the rain to stop once he exits out of the store.
Either way, he’ll recognize you, and to pity you or laugh at you secretly, it’s his choice now. It’s his right to, you wouldn’t care anymore.
Let the clown music reverberate in your ears, it’s an anthem you’d proudly sing amidst pouring rain.
With your thoughts seeming to come to life for the nth time, the door opens with an annoying chime, and as you look up it’s him, of course, it’s him.
But he’s not laughing nor does it look like he’s just going to avoid your sorry figure. He stands next to you, opens up his black umbrella at an arm’s reach and puts it over both your heads. His shoulders touch your wet sweater, and you’re inclined to move away but the umbrella can only cover a tiny area.
You hold in a breath, afraid when you exhale he’d see panic written all over your face.
“You okay?”
You nod, keeping your gaze forward, into the dim surroundings and the pitter patter of the night sky.
“Do you have any means of going home?” He asks again, and you’re sure he’s looking at you.
“I was planning on walking…” you finally quip, quiet and unsure of yourself. “Once the rain stops,” you let out a shaky breath. Frankly, you feel more stressed out than nervous at this point.
He doesn’t strike you as a man with malicious intent so far, and if he were to rob you right here right now, well — he should know, of all people in this store (aside from the cashier) that there’s nothing of value with you at the moment. You’re basically of no value as far as you can tell.
Sad.
“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, and you take a quick peek at him. He scans the surroundings, eyes focused and eyebrows knitted together. He looks back at you, and you’re frozen in place.
“Let me call a cab for you,” he tells you with concern.
“I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” you say frantically, dismissing him with one hand. The other was still holding the wet paper bag against your chest, and you feel it dampening your sweater each second that passes by. “I can just wait it out in the store.”
He continues to look at you as he pouts, and you stand there next to him feeling small. You appreciate his kindness, really, but you know a guy dressed like that has better places to be at and you’re here slowing him down.
“Honestly, it’s okay,” you try and ease his worries, but he doesn’t look convinced. “I live, like, fifteen minutes away. I have nothing else to do at home, so there’s no reason for me to be back so soon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you urge on, smiling at his politeness. “Besides, I don’t want to keep you here. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Nonsense. It should be the rain apologizing to us,” he says with a tsk.
You can’t help but giggle at his silly remark. He’s handling this stress-free while you haven’t stopped sweating since he stood beside you with the umbrella.
“How about this, I give you my umbrella—” you start to protest but he puts a finger up, coaxing you to bite your lip to keep it shut. “— so that you can walk home without getting rained on too much, and I’ll call myself a cab.”
It was a tempting offer, but not quite reasonable to you yet.
It’s the generosity he’s offering which shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, in fact, you should feel relieved. But your guard is still up, even if the rain isn’t letting up itself anytime soon.
If you keep declining him, who knows how much more patience he has to appease your feigning grandiose modesty?
“I’d pay for your cab if I had money with me right now,” you admit shyly. “Unless you’re comfortable with an online transfer, I’d have to know your information...” It was a stretch because maybe at that point you’d learn of his name, but you didn’t want to go too far.
“Don’t worry about me for a moment. You can take my umbrella, and I can take a cab. We get home safely, with one of us less drenched unfortunately, but everything will work out in the end. Deal?” His proposition sounds so firm and settled that you had no reason to deny him anymore.
So you relent, much to your own benefit, too. “Fine.”
He chuckles at your unintentional curt response. You correct yourself, “I mean— thank you, for the umbrella. Sorry, I was just stupid to go out without one, knowing it was gonna rain sooner than later.”
“Happens to the best of us,” he chuckles again while pulling something out of his own paper bag. You recognize it immediately, the cup noodles you had to let go of.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have—”
“There you go again, rejecting what I’m putting down here,” he chastises. “It would be a shame if,” he looks at the label before continuing, “Savory Shiitake Soup was left out unwillingly with his other cup noodle pals.”
You stop yourself from internally cringing at how he read it so slowly, as if he’s never had cup ramen in his life. You’d believe it, too, but then again he’s the one parading his sophisticated looks in a local store at a random town.
“I stick to the basic kinds,” he explains, seeing the meek surprise on your face.
It is almost twenty degrees out yet your body temperature is steaming hot. You admit defeat (to yourself) and open up the paper bag so he can put the cup inside. Secretly, you’re thankful the whole gang is in there which makes your stomach grumble all of a sudden. And he hears it.
“I take it, it's almost dinnertime,” he points out.
“Shut up,” you say, lips pouting. To a stranger.
He laughs at the bluntness. “It’s the perfect meal for a weather like this. If you have any eggs at home, I recommend cracking one in right before you eat it.”
“Yes!” You exclaim loudly, eyes shining with interest.
You’ve always done that with your ramen, albeit you hear of some people’s disgust over such a technique.
“I do have eggs at home, thank god, but I can’t believe you do it that way too,” you disclose. It makes the soup eggy and more creamy, what can you say?
“I add a drop of chili oil for added spice on mine, that really seals the deal for me,” you continue, feeling a little less uptight being next to him. However, the moment you uttered those words, his face grimaces for a second as he gulps and nods absently at you.
“You’re not a spicy guy yourself?” It comes out before you register what those words could mean otherwise.
He doesn’t catch it or at least, he doesn’t mind. He laughs again, and the gleeful contrast of his voice to the harsh rain is somewhat giving you warmth inside.
(And not the sweaty kind.)
“Not in regards to food, sadly no,” he says. “My friends tolerate it better than I do, so whenever I have the chance to cook for them I have to separate their portions if the recipe called for some kick to it.”
“You cook?”
“I try to,” he implies sheepishly, cheekbones turning up with the way he grins. It was endearing, watching him explain how it’s become a hobby of his for the past few months and that his roommates have benefited as a result.
All the food talk continues to make you hungrier, but the way he shares personal stories all of a sudden is a delightful experience for you. His eyes glint animatedly when he recalls the time when two of his friends fought over leftover bulgogi, in which he had no choice but to make some more. At two in the morning.
You listen intently, and laugh when he reaches the punchline and prideful banter about the people he seemed to deeply care about. It didn’t even matter how hard hitting the rain felt against the ground, you were actually covered quite expansively by the umbrella.
In return, you quickly notice that the side of his coat has been drenched all this time. Instinctively, you pull at the sleeve of his clothing, surprising him by the movement as you butt heads for a moment. It wasn’t hard, but it definitely paused the natural flow of conversation you two were having.
“You’ve had the umbrella mostly on me this whole time,” you chide almost regretting doing so, “Sorry.”
“It’s just clothes,” he chuckles upon realizing what just happened, but afterwards his smile returns. “Thanks for looking out for me, though.”
You feel yourself smiling too wide from that comment.
You think of something to say before you get too comfortable with this feeling, and then you remember: “You haven’t booked your way home yet.”
“Oh! You’re right,” he says a little too quickly, and you feel a twinge of disappointment weighting in your stomach at how fast he reacted to that.
Of course, at the end of the day, he’s just stuck with you due to some unlucky situation you found yourself in. He’s just doing you a favor.
He checks his phone for a few minutes, the light illuminating on his face. You notice the hard lines of his jaw and the curvature of his nose a bit more definitely now, and it’s amazing how one person can look like that.
This time, you reprimand yourself from staring too much and so you watch the people passing by again. Hand in hand, raincoats and umbrellas in their grasp as they fight against the current of the rain.
“Okay, I just finished booking it on the app. It says it should arrive in less than five minutes,” he brings you out of your reverie.
“That’s great to hear,” you say with as much enthusiasm as you can. You eye the handle of the umbrella in which his hand has been gripping all this time. You know you’re soon to be left with it, alone, as he rides the cab and finally part ways with you.
“I can keep holding on to this until it gets here,” he says, almost reading your mind. “I hope it is of good use to you tonight, and in the near future.”
“I’ll keep it safe and useful, of course,” you say, feeling the pit of your stomach get heavier and heavier. You’re not sure what it is, or you’re probably in denial. You start to count the seconds in your head, imagining how to tell him goodbye and perhaps… never seeing him again.
You don’t even know his name.
“I’m Younghyun— before I forget,” yet again, he hears the pleas in your mind and you ought to keep the thoughts silent as he suspiciously introduces himself.
“I’ve been exposing my friends’ and their ways of borderline gluttony to you, I haven’t even given you my name yet.”
Younghyun, you repeat in your head. Your lips curl upward at the sound of his name, it suits him well.
“Do you mind if I can get yours as well?” It was a polite question, nothing out of the ordinary of two people meeting each other for the first time.
But Younghyun seemed to have other, further plans from that. His phone is still on, and it’s facing in your direction. Looking down, you see that he has an unfilled out contact information on the screen.
“Oh,” you mumble out loud, not wanting for it to sound too pleasantly surprised. He takes it the other way, however, as he tries to retract his phone. “Sorry, I thought— I just wanted to know if you got home safely and—”
“No, please! It’s okay. I’d— um, I don’t have my phone on me right now but I can text my number if that’s alright with you,” you explain quickly before he can put it back in his pocket.
With an openly relieved expression, Younghyun changes the app to his messages and gives you his phone. You type in something easy to recognize in addition to your name on it, and send it to your number. Right as you give it back to him, a car with its headlights on park upfront, beaming the two of you with its brightness.
“I guess that’s my ride,” Younghyun hesitates. “I know it seems odd, but I really enjoyed talking to you despite…,” he finishes by looking at the puddle forming underneath where you both stand. You agree with a hearty laugh, the uneasiness you feel inside dissipating.
“Thank you, for the umbrella. And my cheap shiitake noodles,” you humor him, but your words are laced with sincerity.
He hands you the umbrella, enclosing his fingers over yours as you grip onto the handle tightly. His hand is just the right temperature, cozy and warm. It immediately sends your head reeling.
“Are you sure you don’t want to share the ride with me? I think I’ve proven enough to you that I’m just a beginner in the kitchen, and not an evil person,” Younghyun suggests. You nudge him just enough to tip him over the edge, playful and amicable on your end.
“I’ll text you, I promise. Is that good enough for you, Younghyun?” With the sound of his name coming from you, lips widen in the most cheerful grin he’s shared to you today.
If you’re being really honest with yourself, you feel a little special.
“You better stay true to your words.”
“Go home, Younghyun!”
You watch his ride pull out of the parking lot, and drive into the night. It’s funny because the rain went from hazardous conditions to gentle whispers of droplets which makes walking back home easier for you, probably even without an umbrella.
But you hold onto it tight, knowing that Younghyun had his hands on the same spot makes you squeal like a teenage girl on the way home. You walk faster than normal, pools of water on the pavement splashing at the ends of your sweatpants. It’s disgusting, you most likely need to change completely, but it was far from your concern.
You get home and head straight for your bed where your phone was, disregarding the drenched clothes you have on dripping on the sheets.
The text from Younghyun’s number came through, and inspecting further he texts you two more times.
You giggle, finally letting out giddy feelings where no one can judge you. You text him back.
And you think that’s the end for today, and you think of things to say for tomorrow that wouldn’t make you seem like you’re overstepping it. But your phone vibrates in your hand, and your eyes stare at his quick response.
Your heart pounds in your chest; it’s heavy, weighing down on you but for completely different reasons.
You plop down on your bed head first, pillow against your cheek. You actually do it, you scream. Not of what you thought you’d be doing, but the complete opposite.
Before you pass out in excitement, you manage a reply.
You do end up staying up late at night, eating your well deserved hot cup of noodles. But the laptop isn’t on, and you decide you can catch up on shows some other time.
You and Younghyun text the night away, it’s not awkward anymore. You feel yourself easing up to his banter through messages and gifs which you try to one up him every so often.
The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and instead your heart continued to pound heavily in your chest. It was exhilarating, to say the least, but you welcomed the feeling of having something to look forward to.
You remind yourself to not only do groceries tomorrow, but also do your laundry. (You never got to change into something more dry that night.)
#young k scenarios#young k imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 imagines#brian kang imagines#brian kang scenarios#young k x reader#young k au#day6 au#by:jiae
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• with you | kwp
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: with you
pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you
genre: flufffffff
words: 2.9k
author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you
you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions
granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances
not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career
ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right
albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music
you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him
but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say
as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all
it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you
this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other
you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes
when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment
dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you
so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him.
(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)
you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…
flowers!!
“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand
“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back
it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long
“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands
“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him
but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment
“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is
“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long.
you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time
he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics
“thought you could get away with that huh”
and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection
you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here
“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works
but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way
one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about!
you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist
he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something
“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response
“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”
“that’s…. a little gross, babe”
sue you for missing him that much!!!
but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing
you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand
but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes
it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them
and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way
you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break
but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat
“were you even listening to what i said?”
“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him”
wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version
he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor
“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”
“you just have that face”
wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy”
“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner”
“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter
“i am.”
there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form
since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room
he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off
the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place
it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil
when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you
and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and
it’s such a sight to behold
nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead
you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out
but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too
hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun
however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out
you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart
you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window
and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look
as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time
“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine
you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes
“mmm” is your response
“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner
before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him
and you can never get used to it, to him
“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart
suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away
now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home
“what if we bake”
“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out
in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him
“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”
“do you need my help then, wonpil?”
“yes pls “ :c
so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team
you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference
“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge
“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients
“... where’s the cheese”
“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge
“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for
“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients
now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride
you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit
“i can mix this in—”
“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this”
“but wonpil—”
“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you
“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing
he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl
and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in
that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame
and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess
you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed
and you just know you crossed the line
“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way
“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious
and you actually love him more
“yeah but i wanted to impress you”
if only you knew wonpil
“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly
the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture
taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs
that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly
at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth
“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip
“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek
you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence
the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face
“oh it’s on, wonpil”
“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin
you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big
bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil
his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat
“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”
“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now
should he be turned on? threatened?
he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate
“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there
taking in what just happened
so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter
fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to
share a bath together :)
maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up
bath foam on his hair, on your nose
soapy kisses, the works
you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash
you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time
“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”
“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”
…”
“okay point taken”
you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven
the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly)
“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him
“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already
he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food
the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise
y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought
and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same
with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)
#day6 scenarios#day6 imagines#day6 x reader#day6 au#kim wonpil imagines#kim wonpil scenarios#kim wonpil x reader#day6 fic#dot series#by:jiae
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• the answer | psj
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: the answer
pairing: park sungjin (of day6) & you
genre: FLUFF, non-idol!au
words: 2.7k
author’s note: requested by this anon for a pregnant s/o headcanon with sungjin.
truthfully, this prompt is very new to me and at first, i thought i wouldn’t be able to write something. but i think i tried? i hope it is still enjoyable! (i have been binging sungjin compilation vids recently... i am in deep)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
sungjin is the most animated husband to a pregnant partner you’ve ever seen
and you have a handful of your friends who have gone through the “journey”
way before you did, so seeing the way their significant others react
to the baby bumps and sudden emotional breakdowns during double dates
it’s quite a show, really. they’re either so stunned, so careful due to their partner being more “fragile” than normal
and others who look calm and collected, seeming to have read every book on pregnancy and child bearing they can get from the local library
and of course, their partner admires the dedication and earnest reactions they all have towards this new beginning for the both of them: a life, growing inside their belly. how exciting
(and terrifying. absolutely terrifying)
so when you finally used one (that turned out to be five, just to be sure) pregnancy test you kept hidden in one of the bathroom cabinets
the rush of emotions start falling out: disbelief, pure bubbling joy, adrenaline rush of excitement, and then a few heavy pounds of anxiety
“baby you’re taking too long in the…” you hear sungjin’s concerned voice coming closer to you, and it trails off when the two of you meet eyes for the first time that night
that you realize you’re pregnant
“how many did you take?” is his first question, tone void of anything that you’re suddenly scared he didn’t want this yet
“five,” you reply quietly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub while holding onto the tests strips
“should you take one more just in case?” he asks again, eyes wide and mouth hanging way too open for your liking
whining to him you say, “we might as well go to my doctor to make sure at this point because i think five is overkill already.”
a pregnant pause
you’re getting just a tiny bit annoyed at sungjin’s non-response at this point. he just looks like a fish out of water, and if you just didn’t find out you’re pregnant and are currently registering your own emotions, you’d have slapped him silly right there
but that’s just how sungjin reacts, especially with how important this all is to the trajectory of your shared life
“come here,” he tells you, arms spread out. face still nonchalant, but you swear you heard a hint of joy in that tone
you give in, though, because it’s sungjin and he’s suddenly getting teary eyed and you don’t want him to wait any longer—
“what do you think?” you whisper against his ear, folding into his embrace as he tightens his grip around your waist. the doubts that filled your mind about him not wanting this for any reason disappeared right when his warmth embraced you
“i think you’re gonna be the best parent ever,” he says but the way he’s squeezing you so hard causes you to audibly squirm
he lets go in a flash, apologizing back and forth
“sungjin it’s okay!!” you laugh, tears of joy welling up in your eyes because sungjin is already panicking about hurting the baby in some form due to him hugging you too much “i think the baby will be fine for now!!”
“let’s go,” he states, his hands holding onto yours and his eyes determined
“to where?” you laugh incredulously. sungjin’s switching of emotions in two seconds flat is hilarious to you, but you humor him for a moment
“to the doctor, so we know you’re healthy and the baby is healthy and what else we need to prepare for so that you can—”
it’s 9pm
ok it’s time to shut him up now
kissing his lips softly, you rest your forehead against his and the two of you share the peaceful silence inside your bathroom, in your own house, where your family soon will bloom
“too soon, sungjin,” you remark, smiling as you feel him blush inches away from you
he nods briefly, taking his time to kiss both of your cheeks and you indulge in his genuine love and care
“i’m so happy to do this with you,” he says, “to build our family together”
“i am too”
“should we start planning on the nursery room?” and there he is again, back to going on overdrive it makes you the less crazy one
you calm him down and remind him that it was grocery shopping day tomorrow then you can set up the appointment for your gynecologist. it seems to bring sungjin’s excitement down
by the end of the day, all the scrambling emotions you had accumulated once learning about your pregnancy has dwindled down to the most important one you have: gratefulness for sungjin
so that was just the beginning, right
in the following weeks that you have been confirmed to be pregnant yes, congratulations, a lot of things have changed in the household
from your newly bought maternity clothes, to less hours spent at work, and the empty room in your house finally being given the opportunity to bring it to life
it wasn’t only you doing the renovating, actually sungjin doesn’t want you near any tools or paint brushes at all
he wants the baby safe as well as your physical body
he is overreacting. you are only a month in
“you tell me the color of the walls, where the crib should be, and the paintings you want hung. i’ll do the work. deal?”
“no take backsies?” it sounds like a plan too good to be true
sungjin chuckles at your suspicion, but nods firmly
“fiiiine”
there was definitely a change in atmosphere in your relationship, however. it suddenly became a bit more… intuitive? it boggles your mind because sungjin has always been the perfect husband for you since day 1
but each passing day, he’s becoming so much more careful, gentle, and all-knowing with you
for example the one morning that you just felt the urge to throw up everything you ate the day prior among other things
sungjin had already prepared the bathroom with extra paper towels, a glass of water to gargle with
and even brought awaiting breakfast in bed, just a few fruits maybe an oatmeal and brewed tea (just the way you like it)
he doesn’t take too much time in the bathroom when he showers (and sings loudly) before a gyne appt or just when the two of you were supposed to bond that night
this is kind of a given but grocery shopping is more of a competition than cooperation months before
who brings the most bags and gets to the car the fastest (without spilling anything) will not cook food that day
now, sungjin doesn’t hesitate but almost force you to stand by the entrance of the place, and make you wait there until he finished putting the stuff in the car and drive where you were
“i need exercise too, sungjin” you’d poke him on the side while on the drive home, and sungjin just half-smiles
those days he’d try and order take out instead because, well, sometimes he just doesn’t want to cook
and you’re prepared for this, at least he lets you continue your hobby of being the master chef in the kitchen
it’s a nice way to bond with the baby and your husband. as sungjin plays music in the living room through a speaker or by singing himself
you enjoy trying new healthy recipes
the baby bump is forming shape now, your clothes definitely give out a hint. it’s been a complicated ride of what to feel about it
excited, thrilled, of course, sungjin takes a moment in the morning to really look at you
and his child that you bear so beautifully, and with so much grace
the sun shines somewhat through the curtains, and sunjin wonders how you sleep so amazingly well
his eyes never tire of tearing up with incoming thoughts of the next few months, years with you and your little boy or girl. he doesn’t even have an inch of doubt that you’re going to raise them well, and raise them kindly
on the other hand, as sungjin thumbs over your cheek, admiring your presence in front of him...
synchronized breathing
sungjin is afraid if he will not be enough for his child. there’s so many things that can go wrong in the first three years, let alone the moment they’ll come to this world
what if he gets cold feet? what if he cannot financially support the two of you anymore? what if you become disappointed at how he’s presenting himself as a good father?
it pains sungjin to realize all of these what-ifs. with a few more minutes to spare before he has to go to another day at work, sungjin makes sure to feel the curve of your belly, and transfer over his warmth to you
he closes his eyes, immersing himself with the beat of his heart, knowing that it’s for you and your family
if you’re lucky, you wake up to the whispers of sungjin about the many different things he loves about you, his forever partner, the future super parent of your child
resisting to open your eyes and see his embarrassed face is almost harder than not drinking coffee nowadays
but you get used to it, just barely seeing how shiny his eyes get, how relaxed his features become and how much love leaves his lips
saying your name, singing to the baby a little good morning jingle, telling you both
“i love you so much, more than you can know in this lifetime”
and when sungjin is busy at work, half relegating tasks to his employees and the other burying down the anxiety about leaving you at home all day alone
you do your part to ease his worries, sending him cute texts throughout the day
sometimes he even asks about the belly more than about you
“hows the baby?? can i see?? does it feel different today?? did you feel a kick? do you think it will be twins??”
(god you hope not)
“sungjin you are at work and i can hear your colleagues laughing at your excitement, quiet down!”
he’s so proud, so so proud of you. getting those texts and short calls from you while he’s away does more assurance than you think
he readied himself by asking his family members about parenting, asking his friends about their opinions, and reading so much online that he’d forget to do his share of the workload in the office
being 100% prepared is his mission, and he thinks you’re not taking it seriously. you say it comes with intuition for you because, well, you’re carrying the baby. but there’s one thing the both of you just cannot explain to each other which confuses sungjin all the more
your cravings
it was fairly normal in the beginning, maybe you wanted cheese on everything one day, and then you just had to add peanut butter on your garlic bread… okay, at least sungjin didn’t have to eat it with you
but the times that you didn’t have the ingredients you were specifically asking for, sungjin was at a loss for words
“sungjin…” you whine on the bed with him, sitting up as best as you can with the bump and pushing his shoulders so he gets up. he was lying down but had his back facing you, as he he had tried multiple times to convince you to go back to bed already
it wasn’t successful
“babe it’s too late to go out,” he’d murmur, hugging the pillow close to him as if to block out your voice. this offends you, a little over the top than normal, so you continue shaking him up
“but i neeeed it. the baby neeeeeeds it. you want the best for baby, right? anything baby wants, baby gets, right?” you say with a pout, although futile as he couldn’t see you
sungjin groans lightly, understanding that cravings aren’t even explainable on your end but there must be something in the house that can, well, emulate what your tastebuds desired— or, sorry, the baby
“we have leftover vanilla ice cream in the fridge, sweetheart, will that be okay for now? we’ll get the other flavor tomorrow morning,” sungjin calms you down, turning over to see your face soaked with fresh tears
this gets him to sit up, cuddle mode on, but you refuse
“baby, i’m sorry—”
“no i’m sorry sungjin, i just wanted to eat because i can’t sleep if i don’t but you’re upset and now i feel so lumpy and gross and—”
“hey hey no,” he scolds you softly, never liking the way he hears you call yourself such a word. his arms embrace your from behind, hands secured on your bump as he peppers you with tender kisses on the side of your face, kissing the tears away
“sungjin i don’t look cute right now,” you pout, somehow knowing what you’re saying is ridiculous to a point and irrational, but also the way you’re thinking isn’t logical right now
“that’s a lie,” sungjin tells you. “don’t ever believe that.”
you find his hands caressing your bump, and intertwine them together. sungjin lets you breathe in and out for a minute, as he finds it the best way to help you out when emotions start to overwhelm you
no words, no distractions, just the feel of him and his security
“do you really want strawberry cheesecake ice cream right now, babe?” he finally asks as the tension from your body dissipates. you nod and crane your neck to the side just enough to meet his lips with yours
one kiss, two kisses
sungjin looks at you brightly, smiles and nods once
“okay, i’ll get it for you, you just stay here and rest. okay?”
exhausted from the emotions but still hungry from your cravings, you follow his words. after, he tucks you back in bed, gives your bump a quick peck and goes out the door
“don’t forget the potato chips :c” you text him 5 mins later
“of course love, pickle-dill and strawberry ice cream ready for you soon ;)”
when he came back, he didn’t think to spend the next 20 minutes watching you put the potato chips as a sort of topping for your ice cream
suffice to say, it was a strange night that ended in laughs, you trying to get him to take a bite (which you succeeded), reminiscing on old times, and falling asleep with him fitting right by your side perfectly
it were these moments that you feel more and more in love with sungjin because he doesn’t just care for you
he cares with all of his being, and you make sure he knows how much he’s appreciated with the little things he does, and the big things he shows off to you
the nursery room gets done earlier than expected, and surprisingly enough sungjin let you paint a patch or two of the wall. you spend time off decorating the whole place with pictures of the two of you way back then, pictures of your child’s (favorite) uncles, paintings you have finished that embodied the love you have for your future family, everything that reminded you of home with sungjin
“you think our baby will like it?” sungjin asks you right after hes finished with the last picture frame. it was empty, undecorated, but hung right next to the crib.
“absolutely, appa made it with love.”
“and sweat”
and he holds you right there, the fresh scent of furniture and a new beginning amidst the air
he holds you and your blossoming family in his careful, gentle hands. and you whisk yourself away in the moment and how perfect it was, how grateful you are to live this through with sungjin
a slight kick reverberates within your bump, and sungjin glances at you immediately
another bump, and the two of you slowly form the widest grins
“i guess you got your answer, sungjin.”
his answer has already been in front of him
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#park sungjin imagines#park sungjin scenarios#day6 x reader#day6 fic#by:jiae
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hello, this is an outdated masterlist of mine. please refer to this post for a more active one (1/1/21)
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
fic rec (exclusively got7 + day6)
requests closed for the time being, my apologies.
fic masterlist (all day6 for now)
day6 fics
all alone with youngk (3.7k, angst)
raining with youngk (4.4k, fluff)
it just is with jae (4.2k, angst)
in ruins with youngk (4.0k, angst)
day6 time stamp fics
12:15 am with youngk (2.4k, fluff)
11:48 am with jae (2.1k, fluff, bullet style)
day6 dot series (bullet style fics)
certainty with youngk (2.6k, fluff)
in the mood for love with jae (2.4k, fluff)
the answer with sungjin (2.7k, fluff)
with you with wonpil (2.9k, fluff)
scenario: falling asleep on the bus
stress-free with wonpil (3.4k, fluff, bullet style)
beat of my heart with dowoon (4.3k, fluff, bullet style)
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• beat of my heart | ydw
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: beat of my heart
pairing: yoon dowoon (of day6) & you
genre: fluff, non-idol!au, college!au
words: 4.3k
author’s note: finally, a dowoon fic that i thoroughly enjoyed writing (hence how long it is) it went on a different track than planned, but isn’t that how most of my fics are turning out to be? lol. please do enjoy!
this dot fic is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: wonpil (currently only have 2/5 completed)
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
there isn’t a lot that occupies dowoon’s mind. he gets classified as an introvert by people who have known him for years but this doesn’t mean too much for him
sure, he likes to keep to himself and only open up to people he’s trusted for a while which… is the kind of life he wants to lead
with that being said, other things that goes under Dowoon’s Approved Interests would be: playing the drums, playing a ton of games, and… animals
upon entering college, he wondered if he’d have the free time to care for animals just like when he was younger, volunteering at the nearest animal shelter in which everyone who worked there knew who he was
and always regarded him as the shy little boy but also borderline an animal whisperer. it gave dowoon lots of fun memories to look back on his childhood, and for a moment he considered studying veterinary science to continue his passion for loving dogs cats and everything in between
but another love of his life was introduced in first year high school, and that is the drums. as his social circle expanded (as much as he permitted it to, so not by a lot), so did his club activities in music and even playing as a filler in different bands became his priority (next to academics)
he still visited the shelter from time to time, it wasn’t something he could just drop so easily; bonding with stray-turned-angelic pets waiting for their forever family was his form of therapy, in a way, when music got too complicated at times or when he’s struggling with a class
and then there’s playing league or overwatch or pubg to release stress in a more high-energy fashion
so when the time came that he needed to choose a major, the first thing that came into mind was music theory. he wanted to get better at playing drums, understanding notes, and improving his performance skills overall
he’s experienced frustration over figuring out the rhythm for certain songs he liked to play before, so this is what made him decide that music is the type of interest he’d want to pursue as a career
and bonding with animals… well, would be just that. this way, he doesn’t get burnt out with the one hobby he feels much peace with. his happy place, if you will
so imagine dowoon’s surprise when he learnt of a volunteering organization on campus that caters to helping out local animal shelters on the weekends. literally what he has been doing since he was a wee lad
it was perfect timing to have passed by the club booth during intro week, he already planned on auditioning for the established bands on campus (day6 sounds like a perfect fit for him, tbh) but he hadn’t reached that level of confidence with his drumming skills yet
distracting himself with going to the shelter every so often would help him leave the dorm for a bit (his roommate ha subtly asked many a times for him to ease off of the mouse clicking during the late hours of the night and shouting, “gg” over and over)
the first few times he went to the org’s events at the shelter, it was… a little awkward
one, he didn’t know anybody and two, he isn’t exactly the cute little shy 10 year old he once was that knew every auntie and uncle in his small town.
and everyone else in the event… already seems to know each other. dowoon recognizes the guy who handed him a flyer talking to the animal shelter coordinators up in the front. he had been lost in the crowd of his peers that he has no idea what’s going on
he just wants to pet sum dogs and play laser pointers with cats, is that too much to ask for?
suddenly, everyone had dispersed into groups and apparently you choose where you want to be included in
great, dowoon is just smiling awkwardly to himself as he feels the tips of his ears blush bright red
“hi! dowoon, right? do you have a group to join?” he whips his head to the sound of your voice, just a few feet ahead of him. he’s confused as to why you knows his name, so he points to himself and feels the flimsy paper nametag attached by double-sided tape on his shirt
oh, duh. they had the new prospective members do it a while ago
he sees your name too, and remembers it in the back of his head like a prayer
dowoon shakes his head, perpetually shy and blushing hard now. you feel a sense of guilt singling him out like that in the crowd, so you approach him more closely and signal to follow you
“i’m part of the board members, and we don’t have enough people in our group so you can come join us!” as publicity chair, it is your duty to make others feel comfortable and welcomed in the org. and this is your time to shine
“we’re looking at some bigger doggos today, do you have any pets, dowoon?” you try to make polite introductions as you lead the group to where you’re assigned. like a lost puppy on his own, dowoon follows suit. he’s grateful for some guidance, and actually seeing the animals calm him down for a moment
and it doesn’t feel like everyone’s staring at him anymore as he hears chit-chatting surrounding the place
so he focuses his attention on you instead, and he somewhat regrets it
he’s not those guys who don’t have girl friends, but most of the friendships he’s formed with them are due to the fact that he was introduced by a mutual friend
so dowoon is, how do you say it, entranced by the way you talk about your first big dog in the house
and the two that followed after, and how you stopped playing with your friends from the neighborhood
because all you needed in life were your golden retrievers and newfoundland
dowoon finds himself sharing his own childhood experiences of spending time at a shelter, but never having a dog of his own
“family allergies,” he shrugs and you pout for him in frustration
wow, he’s never seen someone so invested by the fact that he never got to own a pet for himself
“well, dowoon,” you tell him as you’re approaching the section of big dogs, “i hope you enjoy your time here. this is one of the biggest shelters near campus, and fortunately a lot of dogs and cats get adopted every month!”
your enthusiasm for #adoptdontshop makes dowoon feel excited again, he’s just itching to be back doing what calms him down in a therapeutic sense
you instruct the other members to join in a pair or a trio to assist the shelter coordinators with grooming some of the dogs and going for their scheduled walks
this makes dowoon suddenly panic inwardly again, why does everything have to be done in groups?
“want to come with me?” you ask him in the middle of his inner monologue. you’re met with a look of surprise similar to how he reacted when you called out his name just a few minutes prior
“me? you’re not partnering with anyone else?” you shake your head, “as you can tell, they’ve already made up their minds. you’re one of the only new people i saw come to our event today, so i’ll be glad to show you around!” and you genuinely are. it’s rare to see a newbie look so obviously excited to be here, let alone by themselves
usually the people you’ve come to know who join your events are just there for the instagram stories or a pseudo-date of some sorts. you’re happy they’re helping out the shelter with taking care of the pets even for a few hours in the day, but their intentions lie far and beyond with what you have in mind joining the org
however, having approached dowoon and giving him your usual spiel on your love for dogs— he was actually listening and nodding along to the right moments!!! it was so refreshing, especially with the way he’s just excitedly tapping his feet right now awaiting where you’ll lead him next
“oh, let’s hang out with lady! she’s actually going to be adopted soon, but i want you to meet her,” you lead dowoon to one of the bigger stalls on the right where lady was. you call out to her, and immediately you see a tail of a fawn colored pitbull sway back and forth
she comes near you first, sniffing and licking at your petting hands. lady senses dowoon standing idly by your side, and you’re about to tell him how to approach the dog when dowoon does it for himself
he bends down to her level, lifts up a loosely closed fist and lets lady smell her first. “hi lady, nice to meet you. my name is dowoon,” he coos at her, finally lady lets him in her space as her tail wags even faster
“that’s amazing,” you point out, “we had a really hard time teaching her to trust new people”
dowoon shrugs, grinning while he’s at it and you can tell how modest he’s trying to be. but the way he’s rubbing lady’s belly and chuckling at her snorts make you believe that dowoon knows what he’s doing. and he’s enjoying it to the fullest
“thank you for trusting me, miss lady,” dowoon tells the dog who has completely fallen in love with him too. you just watch him, in awe of the scene before you until dowoon looks your way
he catches you having a weird, goofy smile and so you fake cough your way as an excuse and tuck a hair beneath your ear. “does she need to go for a walk?” he asks you, tone inquisitive and hands busy petting lady much to her delight
“we can, y-yeah,” you find yourself a little out of breath, so out of the ordinary for you. but you comply to his wish and ask the coordinator for lady’s leash and the record book.
and that’s kinda how you and dowoon started hanging out a lot on the weekends. after that first event you met him, you’re quick to tell him about the incoming ones the org has for the following weeks (albeit some were supposed to be a secret, you couldn’t resist) and that you’ll be really happy if he came
for the pets, of course
dowoon had informed you that he’s trying to join a band on campus, so he might not be at every event you described. although he’ll do his best, for all the other dogs and cats he hasn’t met yet. you become curious about the guy, but not enough confidence to ask about this band or anything other than his love for animals
so for the next few weeks of the semester, whenever you get to lead an event you’re always looking for a shy boy in the crowd. and 80% of the time, dowoon comes through
there are instances when the other board members ask you to proceed with a diff group or a diff task, and before they can sweep dowoon away from your group…
“ah, actually he’s interested in becoming my intern, so i think it’s best to keep him under my wing!”
“we’re doing interns??? now?? i thought we canceled that—”
“he’s just interested, nothing too serious or finalized but yep— ah, dowoon, over here!”
what a save, and gladly dowoon didn’t hear
he’s actually formed a few acquaintances within the returning members, and it makes you proud to see him come out of his shell a lil
even if you don’t know much about him yet, just his major and the band he’s trying out for (which is looking very good, in his terms) as long as dowoon voluntarily wants to attend the events, it’s a success to you
“who are we meeting today chief?” dowoon would tease you once the event has started, and it’s becoming a running theme in your guys’ greetings
hmm, you decide, major,” is what you’d call him (as you squeal and squirm involuntarily inside) “bathing ole’ mister winston or trying to teach tiny toffee how to sit and stay for more than two seconds?”
dowoon visibly shudders, remembering the time the english mastiff mister winston slobbered him so much as a form of thanks for keeping him squeaky clean, and you basically laughed at his face for 15 seconds straight
“let’s teach toffee some tricks today,” he relents as you already knew the answer but wanted to see reactions of his flashbacks
you’re not sure if any one of the board members have noticed your particular liking to dowoon. if they did no one said a word because the whole point of the organization is
to have fun with animals and prepare them well for their furr-ever home, which is what you and dowoon love doing together. there’s a kind of synergy that you feel being with dowoon and working with one dog
dowoon knows more techniques on how to calm down anxious dogs than you’ve ever learned being in the org
you have to admit sometimes you’re still skittish, jumping from loud sounds or yelping in response to mister winston pawing at you (and his paws are bigger than your face)
or maybe it’s the fact that dowoon is there teasing you instead, intentionally hiding from you when you need a helping hand only to return with a handful of kittens in his embrace. “sorry, they were calling out to me and i couldn’t resist.”
you’d roll your eyes and attempt to get upset, but the way his own shines and his shy giggle coming out of him when the kittens fight their way to nuzzle against his cheek— it’s harder than you thought
anyway, you tell yourself that you’re keeping dowoon by your side because the two of you learn a lot together, and the back and forth coordination you have with tougher to care for dogs makes the job easier, it’s really that. it really is
or maybe it’s more… because as the weeks go by and dowoon couldn’t come round the shelter on the weekends, he asks if you want to see him practice with the band he’s joined
unfortunately, a lot of the times clash with your events or other school related activities, so dowoon insists on sending you videos of him playing the drums
it was a wild ride of messages, to be honest, because at first the camera would just be showing the ceiling, and then it would be recording his shoes, then just the surface of a drum until the vibrations shake it off of wherever dowoon was putting his phone against
nevertheless, you’d listen to how he plays the instrument he truly loves, and it was another side of him that got you feeling enamored
the day has come that there was no event at the shelter, and dowoon alongside other day6 members were having a busking session on campus grounds
“i’ll record you this time, dowoon, you don’t have to rely on faulty angles and physics anymore,” you tell him minutes before the gig started. you’ve seen dowoon give off a positive, excited aura in the shelter, but being with his bandmates and sitting in front of his drums— you’re observing a different side of him
and it’s addicting. to watch
“oh, guys by the way, she’s the one i was telling you all about,” you hear dowoon tell his members while you stand on the side. a question mark pops in your head, what does he mean by that???
soon after, everyone introduces themselves to you and shakes your hand. and you’re stunned, having known their names before (courtesy of dowoon) but not really associating a face with it
“you didn’t tell me your friends are good looking,” you tease dowoon, “you’re hanging out with the right crowd,” you add, poking him on the side to watch his reaction
and you get what you wanted, ears blushing and hands shoving you away playfully
around you, a crowd has started forming and you notice people from the org watching on the sidelines too
posters fill up the air with names of the members— and even dowoon
huh, why does that hurt a little inside (maybe you should have made a poster too? you glance at dowoon to see him gazing upon the cheers of the crowd and perhaps his name in sharpie, enclosed in hearts by his supporters)
that hurt a little more too
you shake away the weird feeling, and remind yourself that you’re here to record him for the first time, and to listen to him play live
when they finally begun their performance, you became more speechless than you thought. you’ve gone to indie music gatherings before and have watched a couple of up and coming bands do their thing
but day6 is something else— and most especially, you know the drummer
the ones those girls behind you are screaming your ear off for
he’s a god with the drums, eyes closed in parts that require careful and soft beats but you see the fiery look in them once the song comes up to its peak
it was thrilling, it was a sight to behold. dowoon in his other element, another side of dowoon you’d love to get to know more of
you resist from screaming his name so that your recording doesn’t sound ugly (you’re sending it to him after all), but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t beating as loud as the rhythm of his drums
a few times during the performance, you catch him looking at your direction, but you’re not sure so you just raise a thumbs up with one hand while the other holding your phone feels strained as they go on
it’s ok, it’s all for dowoon
an hour later, their set ended with a bang and girls and guys alike flock to the members to get a poster signed or something else of theirs (dowoon had already given you a pre-signed poster. friendship benefits?)
you didn’t want to leave without congratulating him for a very successful first gig, so you sit by the benches. a little farther away from the platform where they performed to give yourself fresh air, and understand why your heart continues to pound so hard and so fast
and the cheers for dowoon’s name playing back in your mind
it’s the after show adrenaline, you tell yourself, rewinding the footage you recorded to pass the time
your mistake since it was all just dowoon
there were times when you “accidentally” zoomed it in his face, and kept it there. for minutes on end
god why does he smile like that, stop you’re hurting my HEART
“someone’s a fan,” a low, litling voice creeps up behind you
and your first instinct is to punch the invader of your personal space
which you did (albeit not as strongly as you wanted) but when realizing who received said punch…
“dowoon holy shit WHY WOULD YOU GO BEHIND ME LIKE THAT”
“I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR REACTION WOULD BE SO VIOLENT”
so uh, there you suddenly are
in the college’s nurse office
with the drummer of what seems to be a rising band on campus, dowoon
getting his bloody nose (literally) checked out, and asking him serious questions without you in the room
“did she really think i’d punch you like that???”
“i think it was really nice of her to look out for me, you know,” dowoon smirked, and the two of you had already come out of the office and you were ready to actually punch him for real this time
but you decline your desires because you still feel a bit guilty
a part of you knew it was dowoon, the voice was a dead giveaway, but you’re “logical reasoning” says you didn’t want him, nor anyone, to see you admiring his face on video. playing it on loop
“i’m sorry,” you finally say, cringing at the turn of events tonight “can you still make it to the band’s after dinner party? can you still eat with your nose like that?”
“you’re so weird,” dowoon replies, pinching the bridge of his nose as he elicits a short “ow” of pain, and you can’t help but feel so terrible
“ughhhhhh dowoon pls say i didn’t break your nose or else your fangirls will hate me”
“what”
“you heard me don’t make me say it again”
“say what again :)” at this point he’s just messing with you, his nose doesn’t look crooked anyway and he definitely knows there were girls fawning over him!!
“c’mon, i’ll pay for the uber to take you to the restaurant,” you urge, it’s the least you can do for physically hurting the person who seems to be confusing you what draws the line between being a friend and… potentially liking them more than that
dowoon doesn’t respond, just shakes his head no and walks alongside you
“what do you mean no???” you’re baffled, why would he decline such a good offer??
“no i’m not going to the dinner, it’s fine i get to see them every day,” he reasons out. he stretches his arms and evokes a yawn. “besides i’m pretty beat from the gig, so i’m just gonna crash back at the dorm”
you’re not convinced, what if he’s just pretending to be sleepy so he doesn’t bother you anymore? biting your lip, you contemplate on persuading him to go but buying his dinner (you’re not sure how that will work) until he stops in his tracks and
pinches your cheeks
to stop you from thinking as your eyes land on his
dowoon huffs, eyebrows creased with concern as he says, “you look like one of the dogs we fed last week who wanted more food in his bowl, but he doesn’t know he’s on a diet.”
he.. really compared u… to a dog????
“what do you mean by that,” you counter, cheeks heating up from the sensation of his fingers pinching at them. not too painful, but enough to consciously feel the pressure of his touch on your face
not to mention his focus is all on you
“you’re upset because i won’t give in to your apology gift,” he explains further. “but really, i’m fine. you didn’t break any bones, and you aimed for my nose. if it were my hands that got hurt then it’ll be a different story”
you groan outwardly, not knowing how to best him out of his logic
“c’mon the bus is coming soon, let’s call it a night,” he says, releasing your cheeks from his grasp and instead, tugging at your hand to follow his lead this time
you don’t let it go
once you enter the bus, dowoon finds an empty two seater and slides right in by the window seat, patting the one next to him. you reluctantly take the spot, still reeling from the way he held your hand so effortlessly, still confused about how you feel about him, still wanting to make it up to him
“is there an event tomorrow?” dowoon asks, escaping you out of your reverie. you churn your brain to think as this is a good opportunity to divert your attention somewhere else
“i believe so. i’m not leading the event, but it’s basically adoption day at the shelter. did you want to come?”
“of course, if you are”
“oh,” that caught you off guard… he can always come to events even if you aren’t, he’s a member now and he’s good friends with the other board members…
“if you’re not, then are you busy doing something?” he yawns again, eyes becoming droopier by the minute as the bus takes it leave
“not really… we can go… together,” you attempt to string coherent sentences together, but the sight of dowoon dozing off at the electric hum while the bus moves entrances you
his pale soft skin contrasts the tiredness in his voice, trying to keep himself away by answering you
“mm. yeah, i’d like to go with you...anywhere… with you,” he starts mumbling, head dangerously close to colliding against the window
silently, you chuckle. and admire the hardworking effort you’ve seen dowoon achieve so far, it makes you momentarily forget about figuring out your feelings
cause it’s kinda obvious with the way you’re seeing him right now, usually you’d tease him, take a picture for blackmail or even feel slightly awkward sitting in the bus next to each other
but right now, you admire him. and wish you can talk to him more about the band, about his dreams, about going to events “as long as it’s with you”
you hear him continuously mumble string of phrases that are incomprehensible at this point, and instead of making fun of the guy (you’ve done enough damage to his nose), you gently tell him, “sleep, dowoon. i’ll wake you up when your stop is here.”
“mmkay,” he gives in, breathes out heavily and
leans against you
resting his head on your shoulder, even making himself more comfy by nuzzling his cheek by the junction of your neck
in a way it sets your heart aflame
but on the outside, you feel at ease. that he can easily take the hit with his nose just mere moments ago and willingly let his head, and his mind rest for a little right by your side
you don’t have to wonder about your feelings anymore
you’d want this to happen more in the future, and hopefully
you’re just wishing upon a star here, that dowoon feels the same
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#day6 x reader#yoon dowoon imagines#yoon dowoon scenarios#yoon dowoon au#dot series#by:jiae
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