Just Two-fake Dating Besties In-love~ (PART 2 - Couple Rings)

Just two-fake dating besties in-love~ (PART 2 - Couple Rings)

JUST FRIENDS, a timestamp mini-series (2/5)

[14:35] → [11:13] → [15:37] → [18:00] → [01:21]

you and your best friend jaehyun pretend to date each other because you are a broke university student who likes to take advantage of some deals that require you to be, well, not single.

[11:13] You stared at the flyer in your hands as you and Jaehyun stood in front of the room designated on the piece of paper.

Some PhD students from the department of Psychology of your university were doing a study on romantic couples — a study that paid the participants that would be eventually included in the study.

After asking Jaehyun to be your fake fiancé that one time you felt like eating cakes (and the only way was to pretend to be an engaged couple to eat wedding cake samples), you told yourself that you weren’t going to ask him anymore because it wasn’t good for your heart.

You resorted to asking other guys in your group of friends such as:

Johnny, who lied to the staff at the restaurant that he was going to propose to you just to get some free champagne and cake;

Jungwoo, who didn’t mind pretending to be your boyfriend just so you could take advantage of the discount given to couples at the amusement park, and

Doyoung, who willingly went along your fake birthday dinner date plan to get free dessert.

Jaehyun made it known to you that he missed you and that he missed hanging out with you. You felt bad that you avoided him just a bit because you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings. But you did miss hanging out with your best friend. So, you told him that he could pick the activity the next time you guys hang out together, though not forgetting to mention thar your budget was a little bit tight for the month.

And he thought that pretending to be a couple for a study that could pay the two of you was a good idea. You honestly didn’t know whether you should be ecstatic about the idea or completely horrified. You chose both.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked him, your eyes trailed on the list of requirements printed on the paper.

He raised an amused brow at you and crossed his arms. “Too much of a chicken?”

You slapped his arm. “I’m being serious! This study is for their PhD dissertation! We can’t mess this up for them just because I need the money.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “We’re not messing anything up. We tick off all the requirements, anyway.”

“Which ones, exactly?” you deadpanned. The first requirement was that you two needed to be a couple. Last time you checked, you and Jaehyun were definitely not a couple.

“Well, first, it says that we need to be in a committed, monogamous romantic relationship,” Jaehyun reads out and bobbed his shoulders. “We’re best friends, it’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s really not,” you said bitterly, the words hurting you a bit more than you’d like to admit.

“Well, we’ve done pretty much everything together except stuff related to sex,” Jaehyun replied nonchalantly. Your jaw dropped at how blunt he was. “What? Did you forget that we made out with each other at Johnny’s party?”

Your eyes widened and this time, you landed a punch on his shoulder. “What is wrong with you? We both promised that we were never going to bring that up, again!”

He snickered in response before reading the next requirement, “–have been dating for at least six months.” Jaehyun nodded to himself. “That sounds about right.”

“Sorry, I think I have a memory problem because what happened to those six months, exactly?” you spluttered out. “I can’t seem to recall.”

You were all for doing whatever you can to survive. And it wasn’t really your moral compass telling you that acting as a couple with Jaehyun for a study was a bad idea, but rather it was your heart because you knew you couldn’t possibly handle Jaehyun acting so lovingly and sweetly to you like an actual boyfriend. It hurt you even more to think that he could act this way with a girl that was not you.

Jaehyun effectively ignored you. “–are currently living together. Well, we always sleep over at each other’s places so that’s fine. And, we’re both over the age of 18.”

You gave up at this point. For some odd reason, Jaehyun was really fired up for this activity and you wondered why exactly, but forced yourself to not think too much about it.

Just like how you forced yourself not to freak out when Jaehyun pulled out these couple rings for you two to wear, so that it’d be more “legit”.

Just like how you forced yourself to calm your heart rate down when he slid the ring onto your left hand’s ring finger and grinned at you childishly, before giving your hand a reassuring tight squeeze as you two entered the conference room for the study.

just two people in love 🥹

❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo

wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love

warnings: none

notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!

“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad. 

“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”

You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you. 

“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”

“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”

You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”

“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”

“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”

The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”

“Yes.”

Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”

You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples. 

Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable. 

Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect. 

Maybe… a little too perfect. 

He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day. 

The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too. 

Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you. 

“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water. 

It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”

You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”

“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”

“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”

Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”

Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it. 

This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo. 

That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind. 

“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”

“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”

Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this. 

“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”

“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”

Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”

“Not yet.”

Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you. 

It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise. 

As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks. 

There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again. 

And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens. 

Junhui bites back a grin. 

Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic. 

“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck. 

“Where?” 

Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you. 

He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind. 

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers. 

“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”

“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”

“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”

Junhui slurps his water loudly. 

“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”

He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases. 

“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”

Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”

“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”

You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately. 

“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”

“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever. 

“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”

Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't. 

“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”

Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”

Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him. 

“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”

Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”

You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there. 

“I'll see you later?” he says. 

You nod. “I'll see you later.”

Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away. 

You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him. 

And how much he loves you, it seems. 

“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”

“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face. 

“So do you see it or do you not?”

You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area. 

“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”

Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.

“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”

“Hm?”

You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh. 

“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”

Junhui grins. He really is a psychic. 

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect

Hannie is the cutest fisherman thusfar 😂

❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold

notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too

There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.

“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”

“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”

Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.

“How sick are you?”

“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”

You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.

He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”

“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”

Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”

“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”

“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”

“Come take care of me anyway.”

“No.”

You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”

That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”

“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”

Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.

He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.

───────────── 🧂

You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.

At least, you think it’s been five hours.

Maybe it’s been less than that.

Whatever. Time is weird.

The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.

“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”

Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.

“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”

That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead. 

Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.

His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.

“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”

You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags. 

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.

“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.

 “Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”

You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart. 

Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being. 

You blink again, slowly. 

Oh. 

By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.

“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”

He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.

But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.

“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.

Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.

“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”

Out of the bag, he pulls out…

A fluffy bunny plushie.

You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”

“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”

“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”

Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”

You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.

“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.

Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”

You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap. 

“Duh. I love you too much not to.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

the way i giggled at the perfectly timed “DIY” pun 😂

Stitches | l.sm

Summary: Seokmin is nothing if not the perfect boyfriend, so he decided to manscape a little to spice things up. Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying enough attention, and he’s been stitched up for a week. He’s determined not to let you in on why he’s rejecting your advances, but all it’s doing is making you think he’s not interested. Seokmin sees that you’re upset, but he just doesn’t know how to tell his girlfriend that he accidentally cut his penis and now has stitches in it. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ implied smut |  ☁︎ mild angst | ♥ completed works 

Word Count: 1486 words 

Pairings: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: fluff, mild angst (but it's me so idk how long it’ll stay mild), new relationship au!

Content Warnings: mentions of razors, stitches and blood (nothing graphic). Mentions of food.  

Smut Warnings: none, but just implied smut

Authors Note 1: thank you to my lovely seoksluts @the-boy-meets-evil @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @kwanisms for encouraging this <3  Taglist: @aaniag and @dkluvrsclub and @thegirlwhoimagined @ressonancee and @tomodachiii @bitchlessdino @onlyseokmins @gyuminusone because why not <3

“So, you’re telling me you have a cut on your dick?” Mingyu repeated as he wiped away the tears from his eyes. He had been laughing at Seokmin ever since he confided in Mingyu. 

“Shut up, I was right. I should have gone to Jeonghan hyung,” Seokmin whined, and Mingyu laughed more at his comment. 

“No, he’d probably upload your bleeding penis to the group chat,” Mingyu teased, making Seokmin throw a towel at Mingyu’s head. 

“Can you help?” Seokmin pleaded. 

“I think that Y/N would prefer to help you when it concerns your penis,” Mingyu joked, making Seokmin reach for the hairbrush on the bathroom counter to throw at Mingyu’s head. 

“Okay, calm down. I’ll take you to the doctor, and after that, we’re going to discuss why you think throwing things in an argument is a solution,” Mingyu offered, earning a glare from Seokmin. 

“Stop whining, it could be worse. You could, I don’t know, have severed your entire dick off. All you did was let a tiny little cut, which after a week will be fine,” Mingyu scolded as Seokmin went on his third meltdown of the day. 

“What do I tell Y/N?” Seokmin wailed; he had been a mess after the doctor told him that he’d stitch up his cut, but he’d have to abstain from any activities that would exacerbate his cut–which included sex. 

“Just tell her the truth?” Mingyu offered, confused, wondering why Seokmin couldn’t be honest with you, his girlfriend. 

“No, she’s going to think I’m an idiot,” Seokmin mumbled. 

“I think she already thinks that, ow!” Mingyu yelped as Seokmin smacked his head. 

“Dude, it’s not that serious. Tell her you wanted to make your penis pretty and accidentally sliced a bit of it,” Mingyu suggested earning a glare from Seokmin. 

“Or you could say that you wanted to attempt an “at-home” circumcision,” Mingyu joked, his suggestion earning another smack from Seokmin. 

“No, I know what I’ll do. I’ll ignore her advances; it’s just for a week, and I’ll make it up with the best sex ever,” Seokmin said determinedly.

“Okay, first ew, second, don’t because you’ll ignore her, and she’ll think something’s wrong with her,” Mingyu warned. 

“No, she won’t. She knows I think she’s perfect,” Seokmin argued. 

“Okay, genius, you do what you think is best. Just try not to slice up your dick again. Besides, you could go to a salon, and they’ll manscape you nicely,” Mingyu teased, making Seokmin whine again and lie back down on the hospital bed. 

“Baby! You’re home!” You exclaimed, running to greet your boyfriend, who held out a hand, stopping you from hugging him. 

“Sorry, I'm sore. I fell during practice,” Seokmin lied, hoping you didn’t catch his tone. He was a terrible liar. 

“Oh baby, should I get you something? Ice? Or maybe I can draw you up a warm bath to soothe your muscles?” You offered, and Seokmin shook his head furiously. 

“No!” Seokmin yelped, confusing you. 

“I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry,” Seokmin said, calmer, and you just shrugged. 

“Well, I hope you’re not too sore for me to kiss you,” you asked, hopeful. 

“Uh, no, I’m not,” Seokmin grinned. 

You walked towards your boyfriend, and you were about to kiss him when he moved his face away. Your lips landed on his cheek. 

“Seok?” 

“You wanted a kiss, right?” Seokmin asked, grinning, and hoped you wouldn’t question him further. 

“Yeah. I guess,” you mumbled. 

“I’ll go change, and we can cuddle and watch a movie?” Seokmin offered, making you smile. That sounded more like your boyfriend. 

“Sounds good.” 

You both weren’t cuddling as you watched the movie. Seokmin had his hand on your thigh but still kept at least a couple of inches of space between you. You were confused, but you did want to cuddle him, so you reached out your arm. Before you could place it on Seokmin’s thigh, he inched away from you, yelping. 

“What the hell?” You asked. 

“Why are you touching me?” Seokmin asked, exasperated, hating how the words sounded and hating how your face fell after hearing his words. 

“I just wanted to get a bit closer to you,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Well, I’m not always in the mood,” Seokmin said defensively. 

“Well, you’re the one who suggested a movie and cuddles?” You argued. 

“That doesn’t mean we need to be stuck together like glue; sometimes I don’t want you cuddling me,” Seokmin spoke quickly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even think. 

“Oh,” you said quietly, looking at your hands. 

“Baby, that's not what I meant,” Seokmin said, trying to backtrack. You looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“No, it’s fine, um. I have some work to finish, so uh, I’ll catch you in a bit?” You said as you got up from the couch and walked off to the bedroom, not giving Seokmin a chance to speak and stop you. 

Later that night, you decided you’d get ready for bed without Seokmin, even though you two liked doing your night routine together. You figured he needed space, so you gave him just that. 

“Baby?” Seokmin called out, and you pretended to be asleep. You felt the bed dip as he lay down next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin mumbled as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You placed your hand over his. 

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, turning to face him. This made Seokmin gasp and inch away. 

“What the hell, Seok?” You asked, now annoyed. 

“Baby, it’s just that I need to keep my distance from you right now,” Seokmin admitted, and you glared at him. 

“Fine, keep your distance,” you huffed, grabbing your pillow and heading to the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Seokmin asked. 

“The guest room. I don’t know what is wrong with you right now, but you’re not making me feel very wanted, and since you want space, I’ll give you space,” you ranted, walking out of the bedroom and slamming the door behind you. 

Seokmin knew better than to follow you, but he knew he needed to fix this. He grabbed his phone and started texting Mingyu. 

The following morning, you decided to ignore Seokmin until he told you why he was behaving so funny, and while it was incredibly petty of you to do so, you were hurt. 

You emerged from the guest room after you took a shower, and the only thing you could find to wear was one of Seokmin’s shirts since you were determined not to go into your bedroom. You pouted, put his shirt on, stepped outside and made your way to the kitchen. 

“Baby!” Seokmin greeted, and you saw a lavish breakfast spread on the kitchen island. 

“What’s all this?” You asked, gesturing to the food. 

“This is my attempt at apologising for my atrocious behaviour last night,” Seokmin mumbled, looking like a sad puppy. You let out a giggle, sat on one of the high chairs next to the island, and took a strawberry and bit into it. 

“Why are you laughing?” Seokmin asked. 

“I wouldn’t call your behaviour ‘atrocious’ just odd,” you said with a grin and patted the seat next to you. 

“So why were you so skittish?” 

“Don’t laugh, okay?” Seokmin pleaded, and you nodded, allowing him to continue. 

“I wanted to, uh, I guess, groom myself a bit. I think the term is manscaping, and I got distracted and accidentally nicked my penis, and I had to get stitches, and I can’t do anything for a week,” Seokmin explained quickly, and you pressed your lips together to try and not laugh. 

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh,” Seokmin whined, and you giggled and placed your arms around his neck. 

“Oh, my sweet baby, why did you think you needed trimming?” You asked, placing a kiss on his cheek and making him smile. 

“I don’t know to make my penis more appealing.” 

You let out a laugh pulled away, and placed your hands on Seokmin’s pouty face. 

“Baby, I think you have the prettiest dick in the entire world. I’ll yell it from the rooftops if I need to,” you comforted him, making him smile at you. 

“You’d yell it?” Seokmin asked. 

“Yes, baby, I understand, and I respect that. You can always be honest with me. I’ll never judge that,” you explained further, and Seokmin pouted as he nodded. 

“I’m sorry about last night,” Seokmin apologised. 

“It’s okay. Can you at least give me a proper kiss?” You asked, and Seokmin nodded. He leaned forward and captured your lips in the softest kiss ever. 

“Mm, 100 more of those today, and you’re forgiven,” you offered. 

“Done!” 

“Uh, babe, what would you yell about my dick?” Seokmin asked as he walked away to fix you a plate. 

“Oh, simple, I'd say that Seokmin has a very nice DK.” 

Part 1! ♡ *re-reading this is just,👩🏻‍🍳💋, everytime*

this mini series is like opening the pandora’s box on crossing-that-just friends-line. Got them delving into desires and something a lil more 😉🤫

don't kiss and tell ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: what happens when your three best friends ask you to decide which one of them is the better kisser? content: non-idol au, a lot of making out, suggestive, all three boys r lowkey crushing on you, cursing wc: 4k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"so we have a small bet going on..." jeno starts, taking a seat at the foot of your bed. mark grabs one of your stuffed plushies and settles it between his arms as he sits.

"according to hyuck," jeno pauses, rolling his eyes in the direction of the youngest of your mutual friends who didn't bother finding a place to sit next to the other boys, instead taking his spot beside you and letting his head fall onto your lap, "he's the "best kisser" between the three of us,"

"bullshit," mark interrupts with a cough, glaring his way.

hyuck scoffs, grumbling a "yeah? why don't you come find out," while grabbing your hand and directing it to his scalp so you can play with his hair.

with slightly narrowed eyes, mark scoffs. "don't worry, that's what we're doing this for, right?"

"well," hyuck sighs, turning to face him, "I can guarantee it's not gonna be you. remind me, how many girls have you kissed again?"

mark scoffs loudly, just as hyuck had done moments ago, throwing his head back in annoyance.

"anyway," jeno holds out his arm to redirect the room's attention back to him, "we made a bet and we kind of need your help,"

with your fingers distractedly running through hyuck's locks, you purse your lips in thought, looking between the three boys expectantly. "how exactly am i meant to help?"

mark clears his throat, averting his gaze, "well, um..."

"you see, we agreed that, um-" jeno tries to explain, but his voice grows quiet.

"we needed someone t-to-"

"and we figured, you know, i-if it was you,"

your eyes narrow as you notice the way mark's ears start glowing red. he can no longer meet your gaze as he speaks, neither can jeno. the two boys stutter through their attempts at explaining your role in their little bet. that is, until hyuck lets out an exasperated sigh and shoots up from your lap, having grown impatient.

"we need you to kiss us so you can decide who's the best kisser."

your eyes go wide, breath hitching in your throat. "no," you shake your head, "no fucking way." and as soon as the words leave your lips, all three boys start protesting, speaking over each other in a hurry.

"I told you she'd say no." hyuck complains.

jeno blinks quickly, reaching for your shoulder, "no, no. y/n, you have to help us decide. i'm tired of hyuck insisting that he's good cause he practices on his hand every night. please," he pleads.

"i don’t practice on my hand, dipshit-"

"we need someone who is unbiased and- and who will be honest with us. that's you!" mark tries, but you're still shaking your head frantically, a scowl tainting your features.

"you guys can't ask someone else?" you attempt.

"yeah, you're right. jaemin and renjun must've slipped our minds," jeno replies sarcastically.

in defeat, you groan loudly, sitting up on your knees to create some distance between them and you, arms folding over your torso, "god, you guys are so weird!"

"Is that a yes?"

you think to yourself for a moment, weighing your options.

undoubtedly, your best friends were attractive and given the chance to kiss them, under different circumstances, you probably might... if you didn't know them as well as you do or before you had gotten as close as you have, then maybe.

either way, it would not be for a bet. If one or more of them got the wrong idea... or if you did... what then?

you stare at them, noting how they stare back, each with their own intentions and motives. jeno looks beyond desperate to prove hyuck wrong, entirely done with the younger boy's nagging persistence on the matter.

hyuck, of course, is looking to you, pleading for you to give him the chance to prove himself right, so he can rub it in. he also keeps staring at your lips, ever since he sat up, and you don't doubt that a part of him is curious to find out what it's like to kiss you.

mark seems to be somewhere between wanting to end the discussion between the two boys, and secretly wanting himself to be revealed as the winner, maybe as an unexpected surprise to everyone; perhaps, because he's the oldest, he's meant to have the most experience, but you and the boys know very well how shy mark gets about stuff like this.

you huff out a breath, unable to stare at their desperate expressions any longer, "fine," but before they can whoop and cheer, one of your fingers comes up to silence them. now, it's your turn to stutter, "b-but, there are terms and conditions. and y-you guys have to unanimously agree to all of them or the deal is off. okay?"

they all nod quickly, sitting up to listen to your list of rules with attentiveness.

"firstly, this is a one time thing, okay? there will be no more friend-on-friend macking after tonight." the boys nod their heads yes without protest. "as for the winner, you guys have to promise you won't get mad at me for who i decide. also, renjun and jaemin are not allowed to know out about this."

hyuck's eyebrow raises in immediate protest, "woah, but what if-"

"hyuck, i don't care." you say firmly, "they are to, under no circumstances, find out. the winner can brag to the other two losers in this room and that's it."

"but if I win-"

"hyuck," mark stresses, glancing at you, then back at the younger boy as if to hint that if he keeps pushing, you might change your mind about participating altogether, "shut up."

"fine," he sighs out.

you clear your throat before continuing. your eyes glance away as your voice grows quiet, "lastly," you mumble, "i don't want this to hurt our friendship, okay? and if it's going to or if things will be weird between us th-then... i don't want to do this at all,"

"hey, y/n," jeno grabs your hand reassuringly, "it won't change our friendship, we can all promise that, right?"

"of course,"

"right." they echo.

you nod once and swallow thickly, "well, erm, do you guys have questions?"

mark raises his hand like a school boy, "they're about the technicalities," he explains, chewing on his lip awkwardly at the sudden reality of the situation.

"okay," you whisper, anticipating his question.

"how long can we um, kiss you for?" he mumbles, suddenly growing shy.

"I think... 10 seconds is fair."

"woah, 10 seconds?!" mark's eyes grow wide.

instantly, hyuck laughs, elbowing mark to urge him to stay quiet, "i can do a lot in 10 seconds,"

jeno's head perks up as a thought comes into his head, "i have a question,"

"shoot,"

"is our score based on your personal taste or, is there a rubric? it needs to be fair, you know," he adds when hyuck gives him a glare.

"both," you decide after little thought, "part of my decision will be personal taste, and part of it will be the general stuff like," you brush your hair out of your face nervously, using your fingers to count out, "pace, skill, confidence,"

"where are we allowed to touch you?"

"hyuck," jeno rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up. he was about to smack the younger boy when mark held an arm out.

"actually," he stops him, "that's a fair question. i wanna know the answer,"

the three share a look, then turn to you expectantly.

"oh," you blink, "the PG rated areas,"

"yeah, but, where? I don't wanna overstep my boundaries," hyuck fails to hide his smirk and you sigh.

"you already are." you half joke, shaking your head, "anything from the shoulders up is okay. arms are okay, too, i don't know. if anything is too far i'll let you know then." you explain, "do you guys have any more questions?"

jeno looks at everyone, waiting, then speaks up to break the silence, "no one is allowed to ask questions after we start, that's unfair to whoever has already had their turn. so is everyone sure they have no more questions?"

"yes, nerd," hyuck smartly replies, leaning back on his hand. the other one comes up to his lips.

"okay," you breathe out shakily, "who's going first?"

"well, hyuck, since you talked a big game, why don't you kick us off?"

busy biting the skin around his nails, he gives jeno a disinterested look, "nah. everyone knows you leave the best for last,"

"i'm definitely not going first," mark declares, shaking his right hand no in front of him.

jeno sighs, looking at you with soft eyes, "okay. i guess i'm first?"

you nod slowly, scooting a little closer to where he sat.

jeno sits up straight, tucking his legs under his bum and kneeling. his hands reach for your forearms, but once he notices the moisture forming on his palms, he quickly retracts them, wiping them on the material of his black pants, "if you wanna change your mind, you still can,"

"relax, dude, you're more nervous than she is,"

"hyuck," mark gives the boy a smack on the arm, gesturing for jeno to continue.

"i'm okay," you assure the boy in front of you, and yourself, as you wait for him to make the first move. he's flushed, making a conscious effort to maintain eye contact so he doesn't appear as nervous as he really is.

"alright, here goes," a second or two pass. he loudly sighs and mumble, "i'm gonna do it now."

"jeno?"

"yeah?" he blinks.

"don't warn me," you giggle, "or count it off, or whatever. just do it,"

"right," he nods, letting out a little nervous laugh.

his hands come up to rest on the back of your arms, holding you steady. the gentle look in his eyes helps you relax, and you allow yourself to loosen up under his grip. jeno, on the other hand, leans in a little shakily, as if he's waiting for you to stop him any second.

mark and hyuck's curious eyes on the two of you don't seem to be helping his case either, especially when hyuck opens his big mouth again.

"bro, If you're gonna hold her like that, you might as well back out now-" his comment is cut short by jeno snapping his head over to him, sending the meanest of glares his way. He's seething, nostrils flaring.

"fine, sorry-" hyuck quickly apologizes, but none of you have the chance to reply because one of jeno's large hands has left your arm and is now resting on your jaw, right under your chin, holding it in his grip. he turns your face back to him. any hesitation he had moments ago is gone and his lips are on yours.

holy shit.

1 second...

if it wasn't for how hyper aware you were of just about everything right now, you might have missed the small gasp that left mark, or the sound of hyuck slapping his hand over his mouth.

2 seconds...

jeno's lips are moving rather quickly against yours, certainly projecting the frustration that lee hyuck awakens in him with his ruthless and deliberate provocations.

and while a little rushed, it's nonetheless, undoubtedly, an intoxicating kiss. he's modest about using tongue, only allowing it to brush against you, not any further. instead, his lips do all the work, tugging and pressing on yours at a speed that makes your heart beat faster.

despite the fact that there's a lot of motion going on between your lips, it's easy to follow, especially with jeno leading you. his other hand situates itself on your mid back, bringing your chest close, right against his.

5 seconds...

at first, jeno was holding his breath, but at the prospect of your breasts against his chest, he can't help the air that slips through his nostrils, tilting his head even more to the right so that he can easily capture more of you. your bottom lip sits between his, plump and red from the way he's sucking on it. his thumb rubs your jaw, soothingly, though by now, your nerves feel very far away.

8 seconds...

jeno leans into the kiss, as if trying to get as close to you as humanly possible, tilting you slightly back so that you have to grab his arms to keep steady. they're hard and warm under your fingers, and you instinctively squeeze them as jeno moves against you. your fingers trail up to his shoulders, nails slightly pressing in.

10 seconds.

mark clears his throat, but neither of you hear it.

hyuck claps his hands together once, finally breaking you apart as he shouts, "okay, okay! that's time! 10 seconds are up... geez," he breathes, looking between the two of you.

your hand flies to touch your lips, eyes opening wide. you try to keep your expression as stoic as possible, but it's hard to do so, especially when the boy in front of you just kissed the shit out of you.

jeno's shyness is long gone, and his eyes are now looking between your own, his usual half moons as large as saucers. he's a bit shocked at what just happened and just how good it felt.

hyuck pats mark on the back, "alright, bro, you're up."

"wait, what about," jeno clears his throat, voice a bit hoarse from what happened a moment ago, "what about my score?"

"she has nothing to compare it to yet. you have to wait till the end," mark insists, kneeling before you just as jeno had done.

jeno nods once, forgetting entirely about his previous commitment to receiving a fair score, mind blank and foggy after your kiss. truthfully, the fairest score would be given right after each kiss, but he can't seem to find the means to argue anymore.

instead, he shuffles away, getting up from your bed and turning in attempt to hide the redness spreading on his face. you watch him until mark let's out a little breath, drawing your focus back to him, narrow eyes looking at you through his brows.

his hands reach back to pull up his jeans that were beginning to slip down, then he settles, waiting for you to give him the go ahead.

he looks a little more confident than earlier, but being completely honest, you don't know if it's genuine or a mask he's put on in front of the other boys.

you've known mark the longest, and not once have you heard him talk about a girl he's liked, much less kissed.

you don't even know why he's doing this at all.

"mark,"

he scrunches his nose as if to ask 'what?'

"you don't- you know-" you sigh, unable to think of the right words, "you know you don't have to do this right? it's just a stupid bet and well, i know how you get about stuff like this. i don't want you to feel pressured or like you have to go along with it just because-"

he snickers and shakes his head at your rambling, leaning forward and using both of his hands to cup your face.

"y/n"

"yeah?" you whisper.

"shut up," he mumbles, and presses his lips against yours.

1 second...

his lips are soft and smooth, moving against yours painfully slow. so slow that it's almost torturous, teasing.

it's messy, the smacking sounds of your open-mouthed kisses ringing around the otherwise quiet room. his tongue swipes at your lips, warm and wet and taking its sweet time to taste you. it moves around, eager to swipe at your teeth and lap at your spit.

he savors you, kissing you as if there was no time limit, as if the other two guys were not watching, as if this wasn't just for a bet.

4 seconds...

your arms naturally wrap around mark's torso and he responds by leaning his hips forward until they're pressed up flush against yours.

you yelp into his mouth, surprised, and he quietly moans at the minimal friction against his groin, rolling his head around so that it's tilted toward the other way, allowing him to make out with you in an entirely new angle.

6 seconds...

one of his hands moves to swipe at your hair and brush it away from your face, and even though you're supposed to be judging the kiss, your mind can't stop spinning at the feeling of him pressing against you.

he's at least a little aroused... that or mark lee is secretly packing.

9 seconds...

you melt in his hands, letting him completely guide you and guide the kiss. he keeps his slow pace until the very end, when hyuck calls out,

"10 seconds."

obediently, mark pulls away once his time is called, but before releasing your face from his hold, he presses one last, quick kiss to your mouth. your cheeks and ears burn hot, and you're almost certain that they're bright red.

you didn't imagine that right? he moaned...

you can tell by the way his bottom lip is caught between his teeth that he's trying to hold back a grin, and just like jeno, mark gets up, leaving his spot open for hyuck, who is next in line.

as mark stands, you watch the way he slickly readjusts his pants, taking advantage while jeno is distracted: he's busy preparing the timer on his phone for hyuck's turn, while hyuck is sliding over and situating himself in front of you, eyebrows wiggling and smirk ever so present.

mark turns back around unnoticed, hands in his pocket as he watches. jeno shoots him a look, something almost like a glare. his jaw is locked in place, tight and unyielding. if you didn't know him any better, you might even say he's mad.

you clear your throat, hand pressed to your chest to try to soothe your palpitations.

"i have a question," hyuck starts, blinking at you.

"nope, no way," jeno points his finger at him, immediately shaking his head, "nuh-uh. you're not allowed to ask questions, that's not fair to me and mark,"

"oh, loosen up, jeno. it's not like you're gonna win, anyway,"

"hyuck, i swear to god-" he threatens, closing his fist.

"alright, alright. no questions, then." hyuck rolls his eyes and turns to you, giving you a small smile, "just tap me if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? i'll stop."

one of your eyebrows comes up in confusion, but hyuck is already staring at your lips and licking his own.

he leans in slowly, pausing for only a moment to meet your eyes, then letting your lips connect.

1 second...

ironically, his approach tells you that he's the shyest of the three. his lips are gentle, barely pushing against yours. and just when you think he's gonna deepen the kiss, he pulls away.

then, he does it again: kisses you, and pulls away.

2 seconds...

his lips are ghosting yours, hovering just a centimeter above, and just when you suspect he'll do it again, he takes you by surprise.

his lips mold into and work against yours, roughly, desperately, not pulling away this time or hesitating in the slightest. his pace is somewhere between jeno's fast one and mark's slow one; it was right in the middle. he's rough and messy and greedy, tasting your lips smugly, which he's secretly wanted to do for a while.

simultaneously, a set of cold fingers tickle your waist, brushing up under your shirt until it rides up, the material left to rest under your breasts. his hands slide along your skin until he's holding you in his arms, grabbing onto your waist and squeezing your skin in his hands.

alright, perhaps he's not the shyest.

4 seconds...

your arms cling to his neck and dive into the nape of his hair as his tongue slips into your mouth, progressively exploring more of you.

his breath is mixing with your own, small pants fanning your face, arms tightening around you when you start to mirror his desperation.

7 seconds...

you need to feel him closer, far too worked up after all the kissing and touching tonight. he seems to get the memo, because one of his hands moves up to hold your head, laying you back until your head hits the pillow.

hyuck props himself up above you, not letting his lips leave yours for longer than it takes to gasp for a short breath, even neglecting himself of air it meant soaking up every last second of you.

10 seconds...

he's too giddy, too excited, hands grabbing at the bare skin on your sides.

"time." jeno calls out.

hyuck drowns out jeno's voice with a muffled whine that he releases into your mouth, continuing to kiss you for as long as he can.

"dude, dude. time's up." mark urges, patting the bed beside you guys. even then, his efforts go unnoticed.

it isn't until jeno literally pulls hyuck off by his shoulder that you guys stop making out and you return to reality.

"that was like 12 seconds, hyuck." jeno grumbles, narrowing his eyes.

"oh, sucks to suck, jeno. you should've made your kiss more memorable if you were worried that-"

"I'll literally beat your ass-"

"stop bickering, both of you!" you groan, holding your hands out.

that seems to silence them rather quickly, all three boys looking at you with eyes full of anticipation.

you clear your throat, at last able to catch your breath, "okay, that was... interesting." you voice out, barely above a whisper. now that they’re all focusing on you, you’re slightly embarrassed to face them. you could feel your cheeks burning, mind bustling with thoughts as you recall each experience.

hyuck snorts, "yeah it was." but you ignore him, fanning your face with your hands to cool it down.

"i don't know where to start."

"well, you can walk us through your thoughts," mark nods patiently.

"yeah, okay. um... they were… they were all very different." you breathe, casting your glance down to the ground. their silence is your cue to continue, “they were all good, really good. and i hate that i’m admitting that, but it’s true.”

“right, but one of them had to be better right? like, according to the rubric?” jeno insists, perking his head up.

“honestly, i don’t know. I think you all got a perfect score as far as the general score goes… none of you were sloppy or bad or whatever. they were all good kisses.”

mark nods understandingly, “so, who would win according to your personal preference?”

you look between them all for a moment, “you guys won’t be mad?”

“no,” they all agree.

“regardless of what I say, you guys won’t be mad? at me or at each other?” you rephrase suspiciously, raising your eyebrow.

with a little more hesitance, they reply, “…no”

“alright,” you purse your lips, sensing your following words were probably the best way to go, “then i’ve decided. no one wins.”

hyuck chokes on air, “woah, woah-“

“wait, what?”

“that’s not fair-“ jeno argues.

you shrug your shoulders, “i liked them all. can’t pick, sorry.”

jeno shakes his head quickly, looking at the other two boys with annoyance, “there has to be one you liked even a little bit more,”

“nope,” you insist.

mark looks slightly disappointed, though he doesn’t seem to be as affected as jeno or hyuck, who both look distraught, like this is the worst news they’ve gotten all week.

hyuck holds a hand to his chest, “y/n, please, you have to pick. i know it’s me, just admit it-”

“you have to choose, i refuse to lose to this moron-“

sitting up straight, you cross your arms stubbornly, “fine, then i pick mark.”

“YES- wait what?!” hyuck snaps his head over to you, mouth agape.

mark looks up, eyes widening, “me?”

“for good sportsmanship.” you affirm, shooting him a small smile. jeno and hyuck erupt into complains and protests, eventually divulging into an argument with each other. fed up, jeno reaches over to smack hyuck over the head, and the two run outside, chasing and yelling after one another.

mark, who is left to look at you in shock, blinks twice in your direction, “so, was mine actually your favorite?”

“maybe, maybe not,” you smile slyly, “I was just tired of dealing with those two.” you point at the door.

mark laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair, “tell me about it.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“Blind sided by a feeling he’s never known” trope 🤭 (Part 3)

♡ Reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

iii. breaking up is hard to do

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words: 4.8k

warnings: none

——————————

You and Kai still hadn’t kissed since Yeonjun’s party months ago, when you were two weeks into your fake relationship.

That thought crossed your mind from time to time, and it crossed your mind again while you sat in the bleachers with Aeri and Yizhuo, watching your school’s soccer team go up against their rivals from AG High. It was the final match of the season, AG were the defending champions, and you were losing.

Until Kai scored a goal, putting both teams neck-in-neck. Even amidst the chaos of all his teammates huddling around him, cheering, and ruffling up his hair, his eyes found yours instantly. You beamed.

Throughout the game he’d missed every goal he attempted, and you could tell he was getting frustrated. His brows were low and his jaw was clenched, and he barely glanced in your direction. Now, he was glowing so bright you’d think they’d already won the championship.

“Did you see how Kai looked straight at you?” Aeri whispered to you, a wicked grin on her face.

“Shut up,” you whispered back.

They did win the championship, and Kai scored the winning goal.

All around you, the students in the bleachers erupted into cheers. Kai’s captain tackled him to the ground and his teammates piled on top of him, yelling and laughing. You let them celebrate on their own for a while, but when the other players’ friends and partners started making their way down to the field, you had to follow them.

The second he saw you he pushed past his teammates and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. He was sweaty and out of breath, but you didn’t care.

“The MVP of the championship finals doesn’t even get a kiss?” Yizhuo teased.

Pointedly, you cupped Kai’s face in your hands and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Well, hello there,” he grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. His eyes shone with pride, and he couldn’t stop smiling as he basked in the glory of their win.

“That’s it?” Aeri baited, egging you on with a mischievous smirk.

“Damn. I remember when you couldn’t walk down a school corridor without finding Kai making out with someone inside an empty classroom,” Yeonjun joked.

You tensed up, praying Kai hadn’t noticed. You didn’t know if your heart could handle having to kiss him again properly. It took you two full weeks to get over the first one.

“Y/N’s different,” Kai said calmly, his hands still on your waist, speaking to the group but looking only at you.

The justification you’d both been giving all this time for the lack of PDA in your relationship, as opposed to all his previous flings, was that you were shy. And it was true. Sure, you flirted with people a lot, but you weren’t ever one to kiss and tell, and people knew that.

He had felt you tense up after all. You could tell from his eyes, sweet and worried and reassuring. Maybe it would’ve been less painful to just kiss him instead of having to listen to him call you different while he looked at you like that, knowing it was a lie.

——————————

You kissed (for real) the very next week.

For the first time that weekend, you were going to spend the afternoon at Kai’s house instead of him coming over to yours. You vaguely remembered visiting his house before, most likely for a party a couple of years back, but it didn’t look all that familiar to you when you arrived.

His parents were out of town, and you had expected him to seize the opportunity to throw a wild party because of it. But all he wanted to do was order fast food and have you over for a movie night, and you weren’t complaining. He had promised you that movie projector system in his basement all those months ago, right?

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Kai said, opening the front door and inviting you in. He realised the insensitivity of his words the second he said them, wincing slightly and giving you an apologetic look. You shrugged it off.

There was nothing humble about his abode. You were fairly sure his foyer alone, large and cavernous and grand, dwarfed your entire house. The long driveway bracketed by gorgeous flowered hedges and the front garden complete with a koi pond and waterfall feature had already rendered you speechless long before you stepped over the threshold.

You found such ostentatious displays of wealth gaudy as all hell, and you felt the same way about Azeri and Yizhuo’s houses. It was a wonder any of them, let alone all three of them, could turn out as normal as they did.

“Do you want a house tour, or-” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. He’d shrunken into himself, eyes glued to the floor and his broad shoulders rolled inwards, somehow appearing small despite his height and impressive stature. Awkwardness was a new look on him, at least as far as you knew.

“That’s alright,” you said. You actually did want a house tour (and to see his infamous basement, complete with movie projector system, retro arcade games, and mini bowling lane) but that seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. “Let’s just go to your room.”

So he led you up a coiling marble staircase with dark wood handrails, sturdy and polished, down a long corridor with more rooms than you could count. More rooms than were in your entire block of flats, it appeared. He looked embarrassed, almost ashamed, as you arrived at his bedroom.

When he finally pushed open the door and let you in, he couldn’t stop watching your expression. You knew this because you could feel his piercing gaze as you glanced around his room.

It was massive, more than thrice the size of yours, with an attached en-suite bathroom, walk-in wardrobe, and private balcony. He had a king-sized bed, a small sofa by the wide windows, and a large desk complete with a full gaming PC setup. Half of his bed was covered in stuffed animals.

“I like your plushies,” you said, before you noticed the wall above his desk.

Like he’d mentioned to you all those months ago, he had put up a collage of pictures of him and his friends, notes, letters, and the like. But there were pieces of memorabilia that were very familiar to you.

The first one to catch your eye was the photo you took of him at the botanical gardens, the one with the red leaf over his face as he stared mysteriously at the camera from behind it.

The second one was of you, also from the botanical gardens, except you weren’t aware it existed. You were facing away from the camera, a broad smile just barely visible in your side profile, your eyes wide while you admired the autumn leaves. When had he taken that?

You looked closer.

The receipt from Stackies, where he had paid for you and refused to let you pay him back. A recipe for crepes you’d scrawled on the back of a napkin for him one night while you cooked together for your little brothers. A polaroid of you and him taken on the field after his championship game, with your hands cupping his face and his hands on your waist. You were both looking at each other, paying no mind to the camera.

When he said you were different.

“This is a cute picture,” you complimented casually, trying to sound like your heart wasn’t aching. “Can I have it?”

“No! That’s my copy,” he refused. Ah, the perils of non-digital photography. He reached over your shoulder and pulled a different polaroid off of his wall, handing it to you. “Here, you can have this one.”

The polaroid was from Yizhuo’s party a while back, after most of the guests had gone home and you were helping with the clean-up. Kai was preoccupied with gathering used cups into a bin bag and you were trying to get his attention. You had on Kai’s student athlete jacket and were tugging on his sleeve.

It took a while, but you eventually remembered why: you had found an unbelievably embarrassing love note in one of the cups, perhaps written as a drunken confession. The folded piece of paper, a torn receipt stained with whatever had previously occupied the cup, was pinned between your fingers.

The photo captured the exact moment he turned around to look at you, his eyes falling to the sight of his jacket on your shoulders. The smile on his face was soft while yours was excited, wanting so urgently to make him laugh. Was that really how you looked at each other?

“Thank you,” you said, still studying the picture, running your thumb over its glossy surface. Finally, you turned back to Kai, who now seemed even more embarrassed than he was earlier.

“Yeah, don’t mention it. What do you want for dinner?”

——————————

You were drowning. In a mountain of stuffed animals.

“Can we move some of these to the floor?” you asked, moving a blue shark plush aside so you could lean back against the pillow behind you.

“No, they’re my children,” Kai said. “Why are we watching Ratatouille, again?”

“It’s a good film,” you answered, hugging one of his many teddy bears to your chest.

He laughed. “Okay, I guess I just thought we’d watch something more ro- conventional.”

You expected to be nervous, but you weren’t. It felt surprisingly familiar, lying on Kai’s bed with him as rain battered his closed windows. When he first hit play on his laptop, you two were barely touching. By the time the film ended, his arm was around your shoulder and your head was on his chest.

“That was a good film,” he admitted, somewhat begrudgingly.

“See? I told you.”

He was about to respond when a loud crack of thunder ripped through the room, scaring you half to death. You jolted at the noise. Somehow, neither of you noticed just how much heavier the rain had gotten. It was storming now, with howling winds and lightning repeatedly flashing across the dark sky, even though it was still early in the evening.

How were you going to get home now?

You pulled yourself out of the bed — which was difficult to do given the rocky terrain of stuffed animals on which you struggled to find purchase — and over to the window. Kai was right behind you, drawing his heavy cream curtains back with the push of a button. Automated curtains, you mused. Both interesting and wholly unnecessary.

“Maybe you should spend the night here,” he suggested, frowning at the way the rain fell in thick heavy sheets and the way the wind whipped so ferociously that even the biggest trees wobbled.

“I can’t leave my brothers by themselves,” you said, shaking your head, your fingers curled tightly around his windowsill. “The power in our building always goes out during storms and they get scared.”

Kai paused to think. “It’s still early,” he began calmly, trying to soothe you. “Let’s wait and see if the storm lightens up.”

He tried to distract you for the next hour, even offering you the house tour he so desperately wanted to avoid giving earlier in a bid to take your mind off the storm, but nothing worked. You weren’t really listening to him the entire time, constantly fidgeting with your phone and glancing out the window.

“It’s calmer now,” you mumbled to him, biting your nails. That was a bad habit from your childhood you’d mostly gotten over. Mostly.

The winds were nowhere near as ferocious as before, and the lightning and thunder had stopped. The rain was still heavy, however, and the storm was only going to worsen later that evening according to the forecasts.

“How are your brothers?” Kai asked quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side to comfort you.

“Scared. The power’s coming and going,” you replied, your phone pressed to your ear. If you weren’t so anxious, his gesture would’ve given you butterflies.

“I’ll send for a car while the road conditions are good,” he offered, half looking at you and half watching the rain outside. “They can spend the night here.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. Daeseong, the elder of the two, was only seven. “They’re kids. They’ve never taken a taxi without me before.”

“Not a taxi. I’ll call my driver,” he answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation.

You were speechless as he took out his own phone and began tapping away at it, only snapping back into action a full ten seconds later to call your brothers again.

Too anxious to talk, you passed the time helping Kai work on his current Lego project while he sang excerpts of songs you both liked to keep your mind off of the storm. As much as he could, anyway. He could see it in your eyes even when you tried to hide it from him.

Your brothers both arrived in one piece just as the storm began to pick up again. You fed them the leftover pizza for dinner while Kai set up the guest room, even changing the bedsheets for them.

He returned from upstairs once he was done and you were just finished with the dishes. “We can put them to bed now,” he said.

We? We? WE?

You ushered the two boys upstairs, with Kai staying silent as they squealed at the size of the house and how fancy all the furniture was. He watched on with amusement as you ordered them into the bathroom to change into their pyjamas and wrangled them into bed.

“This bed is softer than mine at home,” Daehyun whined. “I want this one.”

You shoved one of Kai’s stuffed animals into his arms so you wouldn’t have to explain the economics of quality mattresses to a four-year-old. He’d been complaining incessantly earlier about how much bigger Kai’s kitchen was compared to your own.

“I packed Daehyun’s bag for him. He’s too young to do it himself,” Daeseong told Kai proudly, eager to be complimented. You stifled a laugh, watching them from afar.

“You did? Good job, little man,” Kai praised, ruffling the boy’s hair. He was always so sweet with them.

The second your brothers were asleep and you were back in Kai’s room, you threw yourself at him with enough force that he stumbled back momentarily.

“Woah. Everything okay?” he asked with a light laugh, hugging you back.

“Yeah. Thank you,” you mumbled into the front of his hoodie before letting him go. Looking up at him, too exhausted to feel embarrassed, your gaze shifted down to his lips. “I want to kiss you, Kai.”

Again, just like at Yeonjun’s party nearly three months ago, he didn’t bat an eyelid. He placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him. “Me too.”

You kissed him gently, tangling your fingers in his hoodie strings just to give your hands something to do. You remembered why you needed two weeks to get over the last kiss now; he was addictive, everything about him.

It was a bad idea to kiss him for any reason other than to add credibility to your fake relationship in front of witnesses — you knew that logically. That’s why you’d refused him the very first day he’d come over to your house. Then again, if logic was your strong suit you wouldn’t have been in a fake relationship with him to begin with.

When he pulled you back in for another, you didn’t stop him. His lips were so soft, his hands were so warm, and his cologne was just strong enough to be pleasant without being overpowering.

Like before, the way he kissed was slow and patient, not a shred of urgency detectable in his motions. He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss with a low hum, reaching under the hem of your jumper.

Not for the first time, you clammed up, splaying your fingers across his chest and pushing him away.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“I- I haven’t-” you were too nervous to finish your sentence, settling for gesturing vaguely to his bed instead despite knowing he was the last person who would make fun of you over something so trivial.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to,” he said. His ears were red.

By the time both of you wound down, the storm had eased up considerably. The drumming of the rain was still heavy enough to be audible through his closed windows and heavy button-operated curtains, but in the absence of vicious thunder or wind it was more soothing than frightening.

With Kai next you, though, you didn’t think you would be scared even if those were present. He had offered to sleep downstairs in the living room like the gracious host he was, but you’d wrapped your fingers around his wrist and asked him to stay.

And he did, turning off the lights and joining you under his duvet.

“Thanks for letting us stay over,” you whispered for the fourth or fifth time that night, resting your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady against your ear, above the backdrop of the rhythmic rainfall.

He kissed the crown of your head. “Of course.”

——————————

Kai didn’t understand how he went two and a half months without kissing you, because now that he had (and not for show this time) it was all he wanted to do. Every time he met you at your front door so you could walk to school together he was filled with an overwhelming urge to feel your lips against his.

“Daeseong and Daehyun love the plushies,” you told him on Monday morning. He’d let both of them pick their favourites from his collection and take them home the night of the storm. As you were showing him pictures of your brothers with their new toys, he caught a glimpse of the polaroid he gave you in your phone case.

His friends had asked him more than once why he never invited you over before then, or why the two of you were so much less physical than he normally was with other people. He usually just brushed it off with a comment about commute times or your shyness and left it at that, as unbothered and nonchalant as ever.

But when another soccer player in the year above him asked him if you were as good in bed as you were at flirting, Kai punched him in the face and got sent home early. No one ever mentioned the subject again.

“What’s with 53? Why does he keep glaring at me?” you asked Taehyun one day when he came to the bleachers for a water break.

Taehyun turned around. “Who, Hangil? Kai almost broke his nose. Didn’t he tell you?”

“What? No. Why?” you asked. Kai didn’t have a violent bone in his body; he hardly ever raised his voice, let alone a hand. Taehyun just grinned cryptically and returned to the field.

For the last two weeks, Kai hadn’t been able to get that night out of his head. The way you’d rushed to hug him after your brothers fell asleep, the sleepiness in your voice when you declared you wanted to kiss him, how naturally you nestled into his side as you slept.

If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be perfectly happy to go three months without getting laid just because of a fake relationship with someone he barely knew, he would never have believed them.

You continued coming to his soccer practices when you could, spending your afternoons doing homework by the field until you absolutely had to leave, and he continued coming over to your house for dinner to hang out with you and your brothers.

But something had changed, and you were acting differently.

He realised that when he kissed you in the bleachers after his practice on Friday. You were kissing him back, your hands in his hair like you didn’t mind his after-practice grossness (you never did), but he could tell you were distracted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling away and reaching for your hands.

“You need to stop kissing me like that, Kai,” you sighed, staring down at your intertwined hands, at his thumb running soothingly over your knuckles. “I can’t- I can’t keep doing this.”

His heart sank. He stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

“I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not anymore. You say this is just for your friends, but you put my brothers to bed and have photos of us up on your bedroom wall,” you mumbled, your voice so soft he could barely hear you. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you that night, but at least at the start I could tell when you were pretending. I can’t anymore, and if we keep going like this I’ll break my own heart.”

His thumb stopped. “I- I like spending time with you,” he said hesitantly, his heart pounding in his chest.

That was the understatement of the century and he fucking knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say what he refused to admit was true.

“That’s not an answer, Kai. Either we date for real or we break it off. I won’t be mad no matter what you choose,” you promised, shaking your head and pulling your hands out of his grasp. Your fingers were trembling. “But not knowing hurts too much. I’m sorry.”

The thought of you hurting, hurting because of him, sent a stab of pain through his heart. He didn’t know either. He didn’t even know what you were apologising for.

“Can we at least get to our 100 day anniversary?” he asked, his face twisting at his own demand before he’d finished his sentence like he was already aware he was being selfish. You stayed silent and reached for your bag.

His friends were right; he was immature. He wasn’t ready for this. He wanted nothing more than to grab you, hug you, and tell you he loved you. But he couldn’t.

What he ended up saying was, “Can I walk you home, please?”

An agonising few seconds passed of you looking at him without saying a word. He couldn’t read your expression, but it was the same one you’d had on at his championship game when he chose not to kiss you.

Finally, you spoke. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He walked you home in silence. Your hands kept brushing accidentally as you walked side-by-side on the narrow pavement, neither of you daring to hold the other’s. Normally when you reached your house he’d give you a kiss goodbye. This time, you headed inside without even so much as a glance in his direction.

——————————

That was just about the last conversation Kai wanted to have with his friends before he talked to you.

After your fight (it felt wrong to call it a fight when neither of you had even raised your voices, but he didn’t know how else to describe it) on Friday, he hadn’t spoken to you at all over the weekend.

But he still picked you up from your front door on Monday and you both showed up at school together as if nothing had happened. In front of your friends he still wrapped his arm around your waist, and you still laughed at all of his jokes.

He pulled you aside at the earliest possible opportunity.

“Can we talk? Please?” he asked in a whisper, half-expecting you to just walk away.

You didn’t. “When?”

“After my practice today.”

Although you agreed then, you didn’t show up after school. He kept glancing over at the bleachers searching for you, trying to spot your trademark Rick Astley QR code laptop sticker throughout his practice. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t playing very well.

“Kai! Get your act together or get off the field!” his captain shouted the second their third practice game ended as everyone else scattered for a quick break.

Kai gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut to keep his sweat from dripping into them, and bowed in apology before scurrying away.

“Why are you so out of it today?” Taehyun asked, frowning as he handed Kai his water bottle.

“I have a stitch,” Kai lied, pretending to double over in pain.

His captain’s call-out worked. Once he was convinced you weren’t going to come, he stayed focused enough on the game to not be singled out again. He wasn’t looking over at the bleachers at all, fighting every urge in his being not to think about you.

So he didn’t notice you when you turned up right when his practice ended until Beomgyu pointed you out.

“Where’s your stuff?” Kai asked as he jogged over to you. Really? That was the riveting question he was opening with?

“I went home first to get dinner ready,” you replied, explaining your lack of school bag and binder.

You had left and come all the way back to school just for him. For some reason, that made him feel worse. He sat down beside you, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead, still breathing heavily from practice. He couldn’t tell if you were angry or not.

“Uh- wait.”

He fumbled for his phone and opened his Notes app, looking for the two paragraph-long sappy idiotic stream of consciousness he’d written the previous night. His eyes glossed over it, and he understood then why his teachers were always yelling at him for not proofreading his essays.

“Kai,” you called, watching him stare at his phone screen. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“Fuck. Yeah. I-” he looked at your face, then back at his phone. You didn’t seem angry or nervous or upset, just calm. Your hands were folded patiently in your lap, not fidgeting at all. He wanted to hold them.

I feel the same way. Why was that so hard for him to spit out?

“You’re right,” he forced out instead through gritted teeth. “Let’s break things off.”

You closed your eyes and turned away. I take it back, he screamed at you in his head.

“Why were you so nice to me?” you asked after a few seconds of silence, your voice starting to shake. “You did things you didn’t have to, things no one else was privy to. What was the point of all of that?”

Down on the field, his teammates were all packing up their things and getting ready to head home. Beomgyu stood around watching you and Kai talk, but Taehyun eventually managed to drag him away.

He glanced back down at your hands, now curled into loose fists in your lap, so he wouldn’t have to look at your expression.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, but I’m not sure what else you expected out of this,” he said, his heart beating so fast he felt physically ill. “I hope we can still be friends.”

All he could think about was the pancake doodles on your calendar. When you took that photo of him at the botanical gardens. How you hummed quietly under your breath as you washed dishes together. Like you’d said, things no one else was privy to. The moments belonged only to you and him.

“I really liked you, you know,” you mumbled, picking at your nails and trying not to cry. “Before all of this started.”

It hit him like a freight train. You liked him? More worryingly, did he on some level know that in his subconscious? Had that been the reason he’d chosen to ask you, of all people, to pretend to date him? Had he used you?

“What-”

“I spent the last three months trying to figure out if you felt the same,” you told him, turning your phone over in your hand and unintentionally flashing him the polaroid in your phone case. He made the mistake of glancing down at it, at the smile on your face immortalised in the flimsy frame. How you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“I guess I don’t have to wonder anymore,” you muttered.

It wasn’t like him to be speechless, but for all the words he was screaming at you in his head, he couldn’t get his vocal cords to cooperate.

He watched in silence as you strode across the field, taking long, brisk steps like you couldn’t get away from him fast enough. It was a cold night and you were just in your school uniform, and he wanted nothing more than to give you his jacket.

You had granted him a second chance and he tore it apart right in front of you. Why? All because he was too afraid to admit he liked you back?

——————————

thanks for reading!

-minastras <3