#youngpil

[tangerinepocket]

young k & wonpil being adorable for day6 seasons greetings 2026 🦊🐰

[pinkspringbun]

[ypinletters]

youngpil photoism (through the years)

[she-wu]

lg twins first pitch & hit ヾ( ˃ ᴗ ˂ )◞ • *✰

[gnabnahc]

when the cuteness aggression really hits 💜🩷 credit

[basstokeyboard]

Hongkong 2024

[tokkintoyoungpil]

Part 1: you, me, us (in) hong kong - somewhere only we know

[erreversible]

mind reading au [youngpil]

WIP day6 fic young k/wonpil

preview:

“What did you just say?” Younghyun asks, over the swooping freefall of his insides. The sound of his own voice, the loud chatter in the restaurant, the sizzle of the meat on the grill between them — all suddenly sound very far away. His skin feels prickly, hot, then cold, then hot again. It feels like a nightmare.

He’s so off kilter it takes him a second to realize Wonpil hadn’t actually spoken out loud.

“Mm?” Wonpil doesn’t seem to notice Younghyun had just read his mind. He’s utterly immersed in looking for the next thing to put on his plate, hands clasped before his chest.

Look up, Younghyun thinks at him.

Of course, Wonpil can’t hear him. After surveying the cluttered table, he finally picks up his glass of beer and stares into it. Tipsy already, going by the pink of his ears.

“Wonpil-ah,” Younghyun says.

“Mm.”

“Look here for a second.”

“Why?” Wonpil asks, but he does. Their eyes meet.

Warmth. That’s what hits him first, square in the chest. It’s familiar, the same kind of warmth Younghyun feels on quiet nights when it’s just the two of them and they get talk about the things they never talk about during the day. But underneath that warmth, there’s a current of prickly dread, mirroring Younghyun’s. A thundering heartbeat. Fear and anticipation mixing into a dizzying sludge. Then comes the vague shape of a thought:

Say it again.

“Wonpil-ah,” Younghyun says instinctively. Wonpil blinks in surprise, eyes quickly flicking away, but not before Younghyun catches that — a flush of pleasure crawling liquid down Wonpil’s spine. The shadow of it fades fast, leaving Younghyun cold.

His arm moves on its own, finding his cup of somaek and raising it. “Cheers.”

“Ah. Cheers,” Wonpil murmurs, biting his lip.

Fuck. Younghyun tilts his head back and downs the glass.

to be continued…