you and hoshi have been dating for just over a three months. it's still fairly fresh but you still find yourself being surprised with little things. picnics on the weekends when the weather is good and bringing your favorite coffee when he gets off of work with honey sticks of course.
you find yourself at one of your weekly picnic dates again. this time he surprises you with a beach picnic. the sun setting is beautiful but not as beautiful as you are. hoshi catches glances when he thinks you're not looking but he doesn't realize how obvious he makes it, which makes you giggle to yourself.
hoshi still hasn't given you a pet name, or even said he loves you yet. he can't deny that the thought of saying it scares him more than anything. what if he freaks you out or scares you away? he's stuck in his thoughts until he glances at you once more and you just smile. you've continued to be his safe space since the beginning and even some time before that.
the sound of the ocean and the sun hitting against it is peaceful. you and hoshi don't have to talk all the time. you both find peace in being alone together. you smile at him when he glances at you again as the wind blows your hair, you look so perfect in his eyes this way. and the way you're eating the honey sticks he bought for you so sweetly, how did he get so lucky?
"hoshi?"
"hm?"
"its almost been four months. shouldn't we have pet names for each other?"
he thinks for a moment. he's not too picky about what you call him but he wants to make sure your pet name from him is perfect. it suddenly hits him when he remembers your favorite things. your favorite color is yellow because it reminds you of happiness, the sun, bees, and just so happens to be the same color as your favorite honey sticks.
"call me baby, honey."
a/n: i. love. hoshi. so. much. i feel that hoshi would be so sweet and probably get flustered around someone he's in a relationship with. imagine him on a beach picnic with his partner and tell you to call him baby (stream baby, honey) 😜
pairing: seokmin x reader
synopsis: A social psych class challenges you to test how humor affects attraction. DK’s in charge of stand-up sets. You’re in charge of audience reactions. You’re both in way too deep.
wc: 4.6
genre: Fluff, Comedy, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Friends
warnings:
a/n: happy birthday to dk and vernon!! two cuties hehe. My apologies if this lowkey doesn’t make sense, because reading through it lowkey made me a little confused… but i was a little tad bit a lazy to fix it….
This is apart of the Kiss Me, It’s for Academia Series!! All other parts of the series will come out on each respective members birthdays!!
The fluorescent lights hum over Lecture Hall 3B as you slide into your seat. Social Psychology 312 is supposed to be fun—at least in theory—but today feels like the start of something both scientifically important and personally dangerous.
Professor Kim clears her throat at the front, a tablet in one hand, pointer in the other.
“Good morning, everyone! Welcome to the Social Psychology of Humor module. This semester, you’ll be participating in a hands-on experiment: testing how humor affects attraction and social bonding. And yes, you will be graded.”
You take out your notebook, ready for the usual dry lecture, when Professor Kim continues.
“Here’s how it works. Each of you will be paired up. One student is the ‘Performer’—you’ll deliver a brief stand-up set. The other student is the ‘Observer’—you’ll record audience reactions, laughter levels, engagement, and anything you think might influence attraction. Every laugh, every smile, every eyebrow raise is data. Keep it objective… as much as possible.”
Your stomach twists when you hear the next part:
“Now, your pairs. Let’s see… Ah! Y/N, you’ll be paired with Seokmin.”
Your head snaps up. Seokmin? DK? The same Seokmin whose reputation precedes him—effortlessly charming, funny, and borderline infuriating in his energy.
Vernon, seated a few rows back, grins at you knowingly. He’s your friend—and DK’s friend too, the kind of person who exists to mediate chaos and tease mercilessly.
VERNON: Well… this is going to be fun.
YOU: Fun, yes. But also extremely scientific.
VERNON: Uh huh. Sure. That’s what they all say.
—
Professor Kim continues, writing the assignment expectations on the board:
Performer: 3–5 minute stand-up set, must include at least three self-deprecating jokes.
Observer: Record objective measures: laughter duration, smile intensity, eye contact, and general engagement.
Submission: Post-experiment report including transcripts, observations, and personal reflections (optional—but recommended).
“Remember, the point isn’t just who’s funny—it’s how humor influences attraction. Take notes carefully.”
You glance at Seokmin, who’s casually leaning against the side wall, hoodie oversized, grin teasing. He catches your gaze and winks, as if he already knows this is going to be… complicated.
Vernon messages you, again.
VERNON: “See? Already flirting. And it hasn’t even started.”
[0:00] DK walks on stage, sneakers squeaking, oversized hoodie flopping with every step. Audience murmurs.
[0:05] DK: “Good morning, class! Or as I like to call it… socially awkward humans in their natural habitat.”
[0:08] Y/N: laughs into notebook, scribbles “note: excessive charm detected”
[0:12] DK glances at you mid-joke. Eyebrow raise. Smirk.
You freeze mid-scribble, too aware of the way he’s watching you. It’s supposed to be objective observation—reaction levels, eye contact, mirroring—but all your carefully honed professionalism collapses when DK winks at you like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
Vernon, now seated a next to you, nudges your shoulder.
“You’re writing more about him than the experiment.” He whispers with a grin you could see with your eyes closed. You still however, give a mortified half-smile.
“It’s called qualitative data analysis.”
“Sure. If by ‘qualitative’ you mean swooning.”
DK continues.
[0:20] DK: “So, I was thinking—why did the social psychologist cross the road? To measure the chicken’s attraction to humor, obviously.”
[0:24] Y/N: snorts laughter into notebook
You immediately scribble a footnote: “Note: uncontrollable laughter – possible variable: personal bias toward humor source.”
DK pauses mid-joke and tilts his head toward you.
“Y/N, you’re laughing way too early. Is this… part of your scientific protocol?”
You flush. You weren’t expecting to be named. You clear your throat. “Uh, yes, very professional.”
Vernon groans loudly next you. “Oh my god, she’s officially doomed.”
—
[Case File – DK’s Observational Notes]
Subject: Y/N
Observations:
Laughter onset occurs ~3 seconds before joke punchline.
Eye contact is unusually prolonged; subject appears flustered when caught.
Scribbles notes obsessively; suspect personal bias.
Hypothesis: Subject may be more interested in performer than performance.
Recommended action: Increase joke directivity to target subject.
—
After class, you retreat to the corner of the lab, balancing your clipboard and laptop. Vernon plops next to you, dramatically sighing.
“So… how does it feel to be scientifically ruined by Seokmin?”
“Vernon, I am not ruined.”
“Sure. Your notebook is literally filled with hearts and doodles disguised as ‘reaction codes.’”
You glare at him, but secretly, you’re grateful. Having someone else make jokes about your predicament is easier than confronting how DK makes you feel.
—
[Video Transcript – Lab Cleanup]
Observer: Y/N | Performer: Seokmin (DK)
[0:00] DK lingers near the lab projector. Hands on hips, grin wide.
[0:02] DK: “Y/N, I noticed your laughter metric was… particularly generous today.”
[0:04] Y/N: “Professional observation. Strictly objective.”
[0:06] DK leans over the projector, close enough to smell the coffee on your desk. “Hmm. Objective, sure… but your cheeks are suspiciously red.”
[0:09] Y/N: makes note: cheek redness – independent variable: DK proximity.
Vernon snorts from the doorway. “Do you two need a warning sign or something?”
DK smirks, ignoring Vernon. He nudges your notebook with his finger.
“You’re supposed to be grading audience reactions, not mine.”
You scribble furiously, pretending to record “objective laughter metrics” while your brain screams: He’s right here. Why am I laughing this hard?
—
[Email Case File – Professor]
Subject: Stand-up Set Analysis
Dear DK and Y/N,
Today’s experiment confirmed a very important principle: humor is amplified when someone you find… interesting is watching. The data is impeccable—but I will be monitoring further to ensure it’s not contaminated by personal interest.
Regards,Professor Kim
—
You reread the email, cheeks heating, then glance at Vernon, who grins.
“Yep. You’re doomed. And officially declared the variable of interest.”
You groan, but inside, there’s a little thrill. DK is too much, and somehow, it’s the beginning of something dangerously fun.
—
The lab is buzzing with anticipation. Today’s the first real experiment: Seokmin’s full stand-up set, and you are the official observer. You clutch your notebook like a lifeline, silently promising yourself that professional composure will hold… even though your heart is already doing somersaults.
Vernon leans against the doorway, arms crossed, grinning. “Reminder: you’re not allowed to fall in love on the clock,” he murmurs.
You huff a laugh. “Very funny.”
“He’s wearing that hoodie like it’s a weapon,” Vernon adds, smirking. “You’re doomed.”
Seokmin steps to the front, stretching exaggeratedly, sneakers squeaking across the floor. He scans the room dramatically before locking eyes on you. “Ah, my favorite observer. Ready to judge my impeccable comedic genius?”
Your cheeks heat, and you make a mental note to hide your reaction behind the notebook.
He cues the projector, and the slides illuminate his stage. “Welcome, humans of varying social competency levels. I, DK, shall attempt to make you laugh… scientifically.”
You scribble frantically, trying to record audience reactions. The numbers blur as you catch yourself laughing before the punchlines even land. He pauses mid-joke and cocks his head at you. “Y/N, are you measuring my comedy… or my effect on you?”
You cough, smothering a laugh behind your notebook. The class erupts around you, but your attention is entirely on him. Your pen dances across the page, attempting to remain professional, while your heart betrays every objective measure you’re supposed to be collecting.
Across the room, Vernon shakes his head with an exaggerated groan.
“Just try to stay alive through this,” he mutters.
Seokmin’s grin widens. He gestures pointedly at you, as if turning you into a living experiment. “Ah! A data point has come alive. Reaction: instant blushing.”
You immediately scribble a note: Variable compromised: observer interest is off the charts.
He keeps shifting the jokes subtly, weaving them around your reactions. Things that shouldn’t be funny make you laugh. Things that are genuinely funny make you laugh too much. He knows exactly how to push buttons, and you are powerless to resist.
Later, during a break, you notice your notes are almost unreadable—sketches of smiling faces, hearts disguised as data charts, scribbles where numbers should be. And yet, you can’t stop. You’ve become part of his experiment without meaning to.
Seokmin walks over to you, hands casually tucked in his hoodie pockets. “Careful with those notes,” he murmurs, leaning close enough that you can smell the faint scent of coffee and mint. “I might steal them for… scientific purposes.”
You frown, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. Behind you, Vernon bursts into laughter, unable to keep quiet.
“She’s officially your human lab rat now,” he says, shaking his head.
Seokmin crouches slightly, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Or maybe I’m yours. Depends on which data set you’re analyzing.”
You nearly drop your notebook, your cheeks heating further, while Vernon snorts loudly, drawing attention. Seokmin smirks triumphantly and waves a hand dismissively. “Ignore him. He’s irrelevant to the experiment.”
—
[Email Case File – DK to Y/N]
Subject: Data Contamination?
Y/N,
I noticed today’s observations might be slightly biased… in my favor. Just a hypothesis.
Best,
DK
—
You reread the email, cheeks flaming, then glance at Vernon, who shrugs with a teasing grin. “Yep. There it is. He’s flirting with your experimental integrity.”
You groan, but secretly, the thrill makes you doodle another heart disguised as a bar graph.
By the end of the day, the first set is complete, and your notebook is a chaotic blend of scientific notes and personal fascination. You’re supposed to be objective. But you know, already, that objectivity has left the room entirely—and that’s the beginning of something dangerously fun.
—
The lab feels smaller after everyone has left. The fluorescent lights hum quietly, and only the projector glows faintly, looping the footage from Seokmin’s first full set. You’re sitting cross-legged on a chair, laptop balanced precariously on your knees, notebook open and half-doodled. Vernon leans casually against the doorframe, watching you with that knowing smirk that never fails to make you tense.
“Still measuring your heart rate?” he asks.
You huff a laugh. “I’m observing professional data. Obviously.”
He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced, and leans a little closer. “Uh-huh. Professional. Sure.”
At the front of the room, Seokmin crouches down, fiddling with the projector. His hoodie sways as he bends, and you can’t help noticing how… effortlessly he dominates the space. Every movement seems deliberate, almost performative, even when he isn’t on stage.
“Y/N,” he says suddenly, voice low and teasing. “You’re supposed to be grading audience reactions, not mine.”
You blink. “I—Of course. Strictly objective.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, smirking. He gestures at your notebook, tilting his head. “But you laughed at my jokes before the punchlines. That’s… concerning.”
You flush, flipping a page quickly to cover the notes you’ve scribbled—half observational, half doodles of him. “It’s just… anticipation.”
“Anticipation,” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. He leans over the projector, close enough that your shoulders brush. You try not to notice.
Vernon snorts from behind, arms crossed. “Careful. At this rate, she’ll start measuring flirtation intensity as a legitimate variable.”
You groan. “I am not doing that.”
Seokmin tilts his head toward you, one brow raised. “Are you sure? Because your pen keeps drifting, and your cheeks are… red.”
You nearly drop your pen. “I—I was just…”
He laughs softly, a sound that makes your stomach flip, and moves back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe but not enough to escape the tension. “Keep recording,” he says, half teasing, half commanding.
You scribble furiously, trying to maintain focus. But your notes are compromised: your charts are chaotic, your lines blurred by laughter, hearts sneaking into bar graphs, and illegible arrows pointing toward him.
“Why are your notes so messy?” Seokmin asks innocently.
“Because they’re scientific,” you snap, then immediately cover your mouth.
“Scientific,” he echoes, smirking, clearly enjoying your flustered state.
The projector loops a clip of his set, and you can’t stop watching. Even the smallest gestures—the way he pauses mid-punchline, the tilt of his head, the glint in his eyes when he catches yours—feel like they’re aimed directly at you. Your fingers twitch toward the keyboard, typing notes that are no longer about audience reactions but about him.
Vernon sighs dramatically from the corner. “You’re screwed. Do you realize that? Completely compromised as a professional observer.”
“I am not,” you insist, though your voice is weaker than usual.
Seokmin crouches again to adjust the projector, then glances back at you. “You know, if this experiment is about how humor affects attraction… I think we might already have some data.”
You blink, heart racing. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying,” he says, smirk widening, “the observer seems… affected. It’s scientifically interesting.”
You groan, burying your face in your notebook. Vernon laughs so loudly that you’re sure the neighbors can hear.
Seokmin crouches lower, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Or maybe,” he murmurs, “I’m affected too. Depends on how you measure it.”
Your chest tightens, and you feel the notebook trembling in your hands. Vernon clears his throat, oblivious to the chemistry crackling between you two. “Yep. Definitely doomed. All lab rats accounted for.”
—
[Video Transcript – Lab Review, 10:15 AM]
[0:00] Seokmin rewinds a joke clip. Pauses dramatically.
[0:03] DK: “Notice here, the observer’s laugh—three seconds too early. Suggests either anticipation or… something more personal.”
[0:06] Y/N: scribbles frantic notes, tries to remain objective
[0:08] DK leans closer to the screen, hand brushing yours accidentally.
[0:09] Y/N: notices heart rate spike, scribbles illegible data
—
The clip loops again, this time showing the part where you actually trip over your pen and laugh mid-punchline. He grins at you, clearly pleased.
“You’re cute when you’re taking notes,” he says softly, almost offhand.
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Vernon whistles from the doorway. “Ohhh, there it is. Direct observation confirmed.”
Seokmin shrugs innocently, but the teasing glint in his eyes betrays him.
You can’t help but laugh, despite yourself. The lab feels like a stage, and the two of you are performing a comedy that only you can understand. Every glance, every brush of his hand, every smirk directed at you is another data point you never expected to measure.
And somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, you realize that the experiment is no longer about the audience.
It’s about him.
—
The day of the midterm set arrives faster than you expected. The lab is packed with students, some eager, some skeptical, but none of them matter because all your attention is on Seokmin. He’s pacing in the back, hoodie swaying, sneakers squeaking in perfect rhythm with his dramatic stretches. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach knot—like he knows this experiment isn’t going to go according to protocol.
You clutch your notebook as if it could protect you from the chaos that is about to unfold. Vernon leans against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. “Just remember,” he says, “professionalism is optional when DK’s in the room.”
You ignore him, but you can’t help stealing a glance at Seokmin. He’s grinning, clearly aware that you’re doing it.
—
[Video Transcript – Midterm Set, 09:58 AM]
Observer: Y/N | Performer: Seokmin (DK)
[0:00] DK steps onto the stage, the projector glowing behind him.
[0:02] DK: “Welcome to the midterm experiment. Today, I will attempt humor on a larger scale, scientifically measuring every laugh and blush.”
[0:05] Y/N: scribbles notes frantically, already feeling flustered
[0:08] DK pauses mid-sentence, eyes locking with yours. “Ah, my favorite data point. Still blushing, I see.”
[0:11] Y/N: pen slips, almost drops notebook, laughs into sleeve
Your notes are hopeless. Columns meant for audience reactions are now filled with hearts, arrows pointing toward Seokmin, and illegible scribbles marked “variable: DK effect.” He notices immediately, and a triumphant smirk crosses his face.
[0:15] DK: “Observation compromised, huh? Interesting. I think the observer might be the dependent variable here.”
The class laughs, but you barely notice because every word is aimed directly at you. Vernon’s face in the back of the room is a mixture of amusement and helplessness. He starts tapping notes into his phone, likely documenting your complete loss of composure.
DK’s midterm set is longer than the first, and he’s clearly escalating for your attention. Inside jokes, subtle gestures, even puns that only you understand—every joke lands harder than it should. You try to measure audience engagement, but your hands shake, your pen stutters, and every laugh feels louder than it should.
When he leans slightly closer to the projector, gesturing dramatically with his hands, your heart stutters. You scribble: Independent variable: DK leaning. Heart rate: off the charts.
The worst—and best—moment comes when DK improvises a joke that hits you directly:
DK: “Ever notice how some observers take notes so seriously… they forget to breathe? Someone here might be guilty…”
You freeze. The room goes quiet for a split second. Then, without thinking, you laugh. Loudly. Heart-racing, unable to stop. He grins, satisfied. Vernon groans audibly.
VERNON: She’s laughing again. I’ve lost count. SOS.
—
After the set, the class claps, but you barely hear it. Seokmin walks over to you, brushing past your chair, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his hoodie.
“Careful,” he murmurs, almost conspiratorially. “Your notes are… very revealing.”
You bite your lip and look down at the chaotic page: arrows, hearts, illegible numbers. “It’s still objective,” you lie, though the blush creeping up your neck says otherwise.
He crouches slightly to meet your eye level. “Objective, huh? Because it looks more like… affection metrics to me.”
Your notebook slips again, and he catches it with a wink. “We’ll call this a collaborative experiment.”
Vernon, from across the room, laughs so loudly that half the lab turns around. “Yep. Definitely doomed. All lab rats accounted for.”
Seokmin grins at you, clearly ignoring Vernon, and your heart beats faster. He leans just enough closer that your shoulder brushes his. “Next set,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “I might need more precise data… directly from the observer.”
You can barely form a coherent response. “I… I’ll try to remain professional,” you manage.
“Good,” he says, smirking. “Try.”
And just like that, you know professional composure has left the room entirely.
—
[Case File – DK’s Private Notes, Midterm]
Subject: Y/N
Observations:
Observer completely compromised. Laughter occurs before, during, and after jokes.
Cheeks red for the majority of set.
Physical proximity correlates directly with blush intensity.
Recommendation: Targeted humor and personal attention recommended for further data collection.
—
By the end of the day, your notebook is a disaster zone: numbers, graphs, doodles, hearts, and illegible notes about DK’s every glance. The experiment is supposed to measure humor and attraction, but in reality, it’s measuring you—your reaction, your flustered fascination, your unwillingness to stay objective.
Vernon watches with a smirk, and Seokmin… well, he’s clearly enjoying every second.
And somehow, despite all the chaos, you’re already looking forward to the next set.
—
The lab is quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound as you settle at your desk, laptop open, notebook at the ready. You’ve been reviewing the footage of Seokmin’s midterm set for what feels like the hundredth time, pretending it’s strictly for analysis, but every laugh, every glance, every subtle gesture makes your chest tighten in ways your scientific notes aren’t supposed to record.
Your inbox pings. You glance down to see a new email from Seokmin. You bite back a groan—your heart races before you even open it.
—
[Email Case File – DK to Y/N]
Subject: Confidential Observations
Y/N,
Today’s data suggests your responses are… fascinating. Your laughter occurs consistently before punchlines, which may indicate anticipation… or personal interest. I’ve included a timestamped video clip for further analysis.
Consider this strictly professional… unless you’d like to discuss findings privately.
DK
—
You reread it, your cheeks heating, and type a reply almost reflexively:
Y/N (reply):
DK,
I assure you, any bias is strictly objective. Though I will admit, your timing may be influencing my measurements… purely as a variable.
Y/N
Seconds later, your laptop pings again. Another email.
DK:
Acknowledged. Noted.
But I might need to repeat the experiment… under controlled, more direct conditions.
DK
You groan, leaning back in your chair, notebook sliding to the floor. Vernon, who has been hovering somewhere near the lab door, snorts.
“Ohhhhhh. That escalated quickly. You’re officially his lab rat. Good luck.”
You groan again, but secretly, there’s a thrill in knowing this is only between you and him. The rest of the class is irrelevant; the experiment is just the two of you now.
—
Later, you meet him by the projector to review clips. He rewinds the video to a joke you laughed at far too hard.
“Notice here,” he murmurs, pointing at the screen, “the observer laughs three seconds too early. Suggests anticipation, maybe… personal interest.”
You glance at him sharply. “I’m recording objective data, not… interest metrics.”
“Objective,” he repeats, smirking. “That’s convenient, because it looks like… something else entirely.”
You groan, burying your face in your notebook. Your notes are hopeless: arrows pointing to him, illegible charts, tiny hearts disguised as statistical markers.
Seokmin crouches slightly, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Honestly… your reactions are the best part of this experiment.”
You lift your head, eyes wide. “I—That’s… you can’t write that in the report.”
“I didn’t,” he says softly, but his grin betrays him. “Just… observational commentary for my own records.”
—
[Video Transcript – Private Lab Review, 2:03 PM]
[0:00] DK rewinds a joke clip. Pauses dramatically.
[0:03] DK: “Here. Observer smiles before punchline. Reaction recorded. Data looks… revealing.”
[0:06] Y/N: scribbles frantic notes, tries to remain objective
[0:08] DK leans closer, hand brushing yours accidentally.
[0:09] Y/N: heart rate spikes, pen trembles on page
The brush of his hand feels like an electric shock, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of every tiny movement between the two of you. Vernon’s soft whistle from the doorway nearly makes you drop your notebook.
“Direct observation confirmed,” he says with a grin.
Seokmin ignores him, crouching closer. “Or maybe I’m just… as affected as you are. Depends on the metric.”
—
The next email from him arrives while you’re scribbling your “official notes”:
DK:
Subject: Follow-Up
Y/N,
If you want to maintain scientific rigor, please consider this a reminder: continued exposure to me may further compromise your observations.
Optional: coffee meeting for “field note review.”
DK
You blink at the screen. Your cheeks burn, and Vernon, leaning over your shoulder, nudges you.
“Field note review? Uh… yeah. That’s not professional anymore.”
You groan, knowing Vernon is right, but also knowing there’s no way you’re going to say no.
—
That evening, as you leave the lab, Seokmin calls softly from behind you: “Don’t forget to bring your notes tomorrow. I might have… further observations to discuss.”
You freeze, then manage a weak smile. “I’ll bring them… for science.”
He grins, walking a step closer. “Good. I think the experiment is getting… interesting.”
And somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize that “interesting” is the understatement of the semester.
—
The lab is packed tighter than ever. Every chair is taken, every laptop open, and you’re frantically reviewing your notes one last time, trying to prepare for the “final experiment” that Seokmin promised would be the most challenging yet.
He’s standing at the front, hoodie pushed back slightly, projecting confidence with every step. His grin makes your chest tighten. Vernon, leaning against the back wall, gives you a dramatic thumbs-up. “Brace yourself. This is it.”
You swallow, flipping open your notebook to the chaos of doodles, hearts disguised as charts, and scribbled notes about DK’s every glance. This is supposed to be about humor and attraction, but by now, it’s clear the experiment is all about the two of you.
Seokmin cues the projector and steps onto the stage. “Final experiment,” he says loudly. “Humor at maximum exposure. Observer attention required.”
You bite your lip, holding the pen like a lifeline.
—
[Video Transcript – Final Set]
Observer: Y/N | Performer: Seokmin (DK)
[0:00] DK paces the stage, every movement exaggerated.
[0:02] DK: “Welcome to the culmination of our semester-long study. Today, we measure humor, attraction, and… observer susceptibility.”
[0:05] Y/N: scribbles notes frantically, already flustered
[0:08] DK pauses mid-joke, eyes locking on yours. “Ah, my favorite data point… you’re still blushing.”
[0:11] Y/N: pen trembles, heart races, illegible notes scatter across page
He launches into a set that’s longer, bolder, and more personal than before. Inside jokes, subtle jabs, puns that only you understand—everything is aimed at making you react. You try to maintain professional distance, but every joke lands like it was written exclusively for you.
At one point, he leans over the projector, brushing your shoulder with his hand. The small contact makes your chest skip a beat. You scribble a frantic note: Independent variable: DK proximity. Heart rate off charts.
Vernon, unable to resist, whispers to someone behind him, “She’s officially lost all objectivity. All systems compromised.”
—
After the set, Seokmin walks over, projecting casual confidence but clearly savoring your flustered state. “So,” he murmurs, voice low, “what do the data say?”
You try to respond, notebook clutched like armor. “Scientific… results… inconclusive,” you manage, voice shaky.
He grins, crouching slightly. “Or maybe,” he murmurs, “they’re conclusive… just not about humor.”
Your pen slips, nearly falling, and he catches it with a wink. “We’ll call this… a joint observation.”
Vernon whistles, shaking his head. “Yep. Complete chaos. Confirmed.”
—
[Email Case File – DK to Y/N, Post-Final Set]
Subject: Experiment Conclusion
Y/N,
The final data are in. Observer completely compromised.Suggestion: a one-on-one debrief… preferably over coffee. Or something more… experimental.
Regards,
DK
—
The lab is quiet now, the semester winding down. You sit with your notebook, reviewing the final compiled data—the chaos of doodles, hearts, and arrows pointing at Seokmin. Officially, your report is “complete,” but unofficially, every page screams him.
Vernon pops his head in, grinning. “Well, all experiments are officially over. How’s your… relationship with DK?”
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “We’re not—this is professional…”
Vernon snorts. “Professional? Yeah, sure. And the cats will do my taxes.”
Seokmin appears at your side, hands in his hoodie pockets, watching you with that infuriatingly charming grin. “So,” he says softly, “the experiment… did it convince you?”
You blink. “Convince me… of what?”
“Of us,” he says simply, crouching slightly so you meet his eyes. “All the measurements, all the notes… they’ve been leading here. To this moment.”
Your heart races, mind spinning. You open your mouth, then close it, overwhelmed.
He leans in slowly. “So, Y/N… what do you say? Want to see the results… together?”
You can’t stop yourself. You nod, barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
And then it happens. The kiss is soft, tentative at first, but full of all the tension and humor and chaos of the semester. Vernon, from the doorway, pretends to clear his throat.
You laugh, blushing, resting your forehead against Seokmin’s. He grins, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “I’d call this… a perfect study outcome.”
“Control group unnecessary. Y/N already convinced.”
You roll your eyes, but can’t stop smiling. The semester may be over, the lab cleared, but somehow… the experiment isn’t done. Not by a long shot.
summary: inspired by that one concert moment of the older members admiring dino! thought it'd be super cute and wholesome for the reader to be the photographer of this moment. this bond took years to build, i’m so beyond proud of them!
it's nearing the end of the performance. the boys are getting closer to their end ment. you've been capturing every photo you could through the three hour concert. every member comes alive through your lens, showing each of their personality through photos.
the older members gather in the center of the stage as dino stays behind. chan always had a spark in his eyes when it came to performing. you make sure to snap a photo of him as he continues to dance and entertain the carats. past the viewfinder, you see all of the boys admiring dino.
it was the perfect shot. twelve hyungs admiring their maknae even though they're all grown up now. you've been their dedicated photographer for roughly five years, but their bond only grows stronger as they progress.
snap
your camera captures the scene of a group that started as strangers and ended up like brothers, like a family. it makes your heart swell as you admire every member equally. this time, you manage to capture it in one photo.
and as the saying goes, a photo says a thousand words. this photo says more than the heart of seventeen could say, but they don't need to. their eyes say it all.
a/n: ughhh i love ot13 so much. i'll post the link to the tiktok that inspired this very short ff. seeing them grow is so bittersweet but i cannot wait to see what comes next for them <3 no one loves seventeen more than seventeen!
a/n: he is so beautiful. kim mingyu, the man you are. if he intimidates you, he will make you change your mind in the first five minutes of seeing him. he just seems like he would be so sweet and highly affectionate to his partner.
mingyu, your tall puppy dog of a boyfriend. he's definitely the type of person you'd take to a party if you're more on the shy side. he makes you feel so comfortable, holding your hand through every crowd and making sure not to let go. who eats your leftovers if you ate too much or sips the last of your soju that is too strong for you.
do not be fooled by his tall stature. he knows how to play his role well. be strong and intimidating when someone crosses you but is the most clingy, tall man child when you get home. he is so tentative to your needs regardless of what they are. you're craving ice cream at three am? he's already got the car keys.
and don't doubt that you'll be getting selfies from him at all hours of the day. whether he's on the other side of the country and you're probably still sleeping, that selfie is going to pop up on your phone. your matching phone case making an appearance when he takes mirror selfies, with the back of his phone being broken of course. along with the sweetest message: "i love you so much baby. i'll see my y/n soon, i can't wait!"
he holds you when you're stressed about work or school, making you forget what you were stressed out about in the first place. he'll give you those sweet puppy dog eyes when you overwork yourself, which he knows will persuade you to take a break. oh, and he will make your favorite food just because :) how you were blessed with the sweetest puppy like boyfriend, you'll never know but you sure as hell aren't letting him go.
a/n: ughhh i love him so much. all of svt is THE standard but there’s something about dk that i just cannot ignore. he’s the sweetest and if i imagine him as a bf, this is exactly how.
lee seokmin. the type of man to walk on the side of the sidewalk nearest to the road for you. who picks the prettiest sunflowers just because they remind him of you. who sends you cute silly updates when he’s traveling to remind you he’s always with you.
he makes you breakfast in bed, cuddles you extra tight when you’re sick, and never forgets your favorite things. he sends you photos of every pretty sky he sees, or the cute corgi he saw on a run.
the absolute sweetest and most kind person you’ve met. so kind in fact, he stayed on the phone with a telemarketer for thirty minutes because he would feel bad if he hung up. so incredibly sweet that he calls his friends at exactly twelve am on their birthdays, and never forgets. if they don’t answer, he makes sure to leave them a voicemail, along with a birthday message just for extra measure.
when you argue, he sulks when you tell him you need some time for yourself. when you calm down, you don’t even make it through the door before he apologizes and attacks you with kisses. not forgetting the thousands of “i love you’s” in between. if there’s one thing you admire most about him, it’s his heart. and his heart is forever tied to yours.
warnings: unprotected sex (pls wrap it), semi public sex (?), was not heavily pre read beforehand, if there’s any others pls lmk!
this is 18+ MDNI (after cut)
nerd!hoshi who is so quiet that he fades into the background. always immersed into his textbooks at the university’s library to prepare for the upcoming exams.
nerd!hoshi who’s favorite subject is biology because he likes to learn about the human body. he finds it fascinating how every function in your body is connected one way or another.
nerd!hoshi helps you study when you come to him for tutoring. he explains the subject in a way you understand and makes sure to bring you extra snacks. he opens the doors for you, brings an extra pencil just in case you forget yours, and notices how most of your stationary is pink.
nerd!hoshi has never had a girlfriend before. he was shocked when you asked him to be your tutor. little does he know that you heard nerdy guys are the best when it comes to more than just studying. he can feel his heartbeat starting to race when your shoulder brushes his as you scoot closer to him. he’s acutely aware of how close you are, how he can smell your sweet floral perfume, how soft your skin looks.
you have nerd!hoshi in the back of the library in one of the rooms you can rent out. he’s never been in a situation like this before, you on your knees in front of him, staring at up him so pretty. he’s never even been in a room alone with a girl. he’s staring down at you as he watches you unzip his pants. he’s clenching his fists so tight, his knuckles are white, his jaw is tense. he tells you that you shouldn’t do this here in the library but he’s been such a good tutor, you just had to repay him back.
when you pull down his pants just enough to release him, your mouth waters. he’s not only big but thick. you can’t wait to feel it inside of you, you wonder how his body works, what he reacts to. once nerd!hoshi finds his own confidence, he slides his hands through your hair and tugs on it, enough to make you moan around his cock. he can feel the vibration causing him to groan lowly.
“shit- you feel so fucking good around my cock. just like that. such a pretty girl y/n.” he strains.
you continue your momentum as your glossy lips are wrapped around his tip. he’s close, you can tell. the way he’s panting, his legs are tense as he’s fighting demons trying to stay standing up. you can feel the pool of your own arousal pooling in your panties at his praise. you release your lips, causing a pop that hoshi swears echos in his head.
“can’t have you cumming yet.” you get up from your knees and grab his hand, walking back until the back of your thighs hit the table. you lay your back flat and hoshi immediately gets down on his knees to get a taste. he’s never been intimate with anyone but he wants to impress you, needs to. he plays with the waistband of your lacy pink panties. guess your stationary isn’t the only thing that’s pink.
“don’t tease, please.” you ask needy.
“beg.”
“w-what?”
nerd!hoshi found his inner tiger and suddenly he’s holding your legs down, teasing your nipples through your shirt until you beg him to touch you. and he got what he wanted. the sounds of your plea was music to his ears and if he never gets to do this with you again, he might as well go all in. his fingers slide your panties to the side, his cold fingers causing a shiver down your spine as you feel him insert his digits.
he has beautiful fingers. you can’t deny that you’ve thought about using his fingers for your own pleasure once or twice. you moan as he moves faster, he’s only determined to make you feel good.
“hoshi!” you moan out but he muffles it with his hand over your mouth. you almost forgot you were still in the library. thank god these study rooms are good at keeping most of the sound in.
“shh. gotta stay quiet baby. don’t wanna get caught before you finish, do we?”
god no. the last thing you’d want to do right now is to stop. not when his fingers are hitting your g-spot and he’s thumbing your clit so perfect. and the way he called you baby, like you were already his before he even really got to have you. you might have just scored with the best nerd you’ve ever imagined. you never expected the quiet nerd to be so good at more than just hiding behind his books. learning about the human body was hoshi’s speciality after all. he knows that when he curls his fingers, your breathing becomes more rapid. your heartbeat beating out of your chest as he fastens his pace. you grip his wrist tightly, feeling your own release approaching.
nerd!hoshi was so shy and quiet when you first met him. you never thought he’d be this dominant. his low and sultry voice doesn’t match the guy that wears attack on titan socks to school. or the guy that has anime posters on his wall. you might have just ruined hoshi but he’d never complain about it. he surprised himself by how his touch manages to make you shudder but if he can make you feel the best you’ve ever felt in your life, he won’t stop. not now, not ever.
“god- need you inside. please hoshi.”
he slows down his fingers. he leans down to whisper into your ear, his voice velvety and his breath hot against your skin. he lines up his still hardened cock to your entrance that’s more than ready for him.
summary: you and him are enemies to lovers (??) definitely a complicated relationship but i digress. wonwoo and y/n have been at each other’s throat since middle school but maybe everything he thought about you was wrong, even his own feelings for you.
pair: fem!reader x enemy!wonwoo
genre: fluff, au (? im new to writing LOL)
warnings: mentions of fighting, bruises, cuts, etc.
word count: 3.4k
it was a friday afternoon after school. you push out of your desk and sling your backpack over your shoulder. yuqi walks with you towards the back of the campus where the baseball fields are, its shorter to get to the bus that way. once you walk past the bleachers, you hear commotion and students gathering around them. you and yuqi look at each other confused before you run towards the crowd. you push through to see wonwoo laying on the floor, bloodied. your body tenses at the sight, the other students spread out and leave once they realize wonwoo is half passed out.
you tell yuqi to go to the bus without her. she doesn’t say much as she walks away, not without glancing back at you first. you take a soft breath as you walk closer to wonwoo who is sitting down on the dirt leaning against the bleachers. he’s holding his bruised ribs, his glasses half broken on his face. the broken glass caused a cut around his eye and his knuckles are black and blue.
“what do you want?” he says half annoyed, half cold. you wouldn’t expect any less from the boy that’s hated you since the seventh grade. what you did, you have no idea. you sigh frustratedly, staring down at him.
“you look like hell.” you state bluntly.
“right back at you darling.” he scoffs.
you roll your eyes at his reply. everything he does just makes you want to punch him in the face, too bad someone else got to him first. it’s quiet for a few moments. you continue to glance at him every few seconds before you speak.
“can you walk?”
he takes a deep breath. “i don’t want your pity.” he retorts back.
you roll your eyes before you take a few steps forward until you’re kneeling down to him. you gently grab his arm to wrap it around your shoulder. you take your time as you pick him up. he doesn’t understand why you’re being so gentle with him, the person that hates him the most but you don’t understand either. he groans in pain as you help him up. he’s badly bruised but he manages to stand up. you lead him to a nearby bench as he limps, making sure not to apply too much pressure but you notice.
“thanks” he mumbles under his breath.
“don’t mention it.” you sit a few inches away from him on the bench. another agonizing few seconds go by before you speak again.
“where does it hurt?” he snaps his head towards you surprised by your sudden genuine care.
“where doesn’t it hurt?” he replies.
you don’t say anything as you reach inside your backpack for your emergency kit that you keep on you at all times. you grab a bandaid, a q-tip, alcohol wipes, and some ointment for the cuts on his face and knuckles. you get up from the bench and bend down to him examining his cuts. your faces are only a few inches away. his breath hitches but he doesn’t push you away, not when he’s in this much pain.
your eyes zero in on the cut on his cheek. gently removing his glasses, you set them down before moving his bangs out of his eyes that are drenched in sweat. wonwoo hates this. hates that someone pities him, especially the annoying girl that sat next to him in seventh grade history class. but why do your eyes look so pretty right now? he’s never noticed how long your lashes were before. or how pretty you look when the wind blows your hair-
“this is gonna sting.” your voice cuts through his inner monologue. he blinks at you before he winces from the alcohol wipe cleaning his half dried cut on his cheek.
“agh- you couldn’t have warned me before?” he clenches his fists from the sting but he lets you finish cleaning. you apply some ointment and gently place the bandaid over it. this is the closest you’ve ever been to wonwoo’s face. even bruised and beat up, he looks so beautiful. has he always had a scar near his eyebrow? were his lips ever this pretty?
you quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts. why the hell are you thinking about his damn lips right now y/n? you clean his bruised and bloodied knuckles as you try to think of anything else. your hands are so soft against his rough and calloused palms. once you remove your hands from his, he feels almost empty.
you shuffle through your bag again until you found the ice pack that your mom packed in your lunch box. its half melted by now but this will have to do. you hand it to him. he looks at the ice pack and back up at you. he scoffs and takes it from your hands. he applies it to the side of his ribs. he winces again and shivers from the cold liquid hitting his side but it is helping relieve some of the pain. maybe you’re not as useless as you look.
“why the hell are you helping me anyway?” he asks indifferently.
you don’t say anything because honestly, you’re not too sure either. you grab your backpack from the bench and sling it over your shoulder. wonwoo clenches his jaw just slightly from the mere thought of you leaving and for what reason, he doesn’t know. you look down at him as he sits silently.
“how are you getting home?” you’re avoiding the question and you both it but wonwoo is too tired to even argue with you right now.
“i can walk.” he says firmly, almost distant.
“like hell you are. how far do you live?” you reply back.
he mumbles under his breath. probably something about how annoying you are but he knows damn well you aren’t gonna let this go and he is definitely not gonna make it home in his condition.
“not far.”
you nod and you go to reach for his arm to wrap it on your shoulder again but he moves away.
“i can do it myself.”
“asshole.” you mumble under your breath as you begin to walk ahead. with the pace that you’re walking, he could easily catch up to you even while he limps but watching you walk away makes his chest hurt. he groans dramatically.
“wait.” he calls out.
you stop mid step and smirk to yourself, knowing that he couldn’t make it home by himself. you end up walking home after you go back and forth a little while longer. even with a limp and broken glasses that you know he needs because about as blind as a bat, he still doesn’t apply all of his weight onto you.
“stop doing that.”
“stop doing what?”
“just rest your weight on me. i’m not made out of glass, you know.”
he would normally pinch his nose bridge at how annoyingly stubborn you are but he can barely lift his arm right now.
“i never said you were, dumbass.”
and against everything in wonwoo telling him he shouldn’t, that you’re just doing this because you feel bad for him, he rests his weight onto you. your hand rests on his wrist as his arm is draped on your shoulders. even under these circumstances this feels weirdly romantic. neither of you says much as you walk to his house, besides the normal banter of calling each other an asshole or a dumbass. he can’t help but feel as though you have an ulterior motive to helping him. there’s no way you’re this nice or gentle naturally without wanting anything else in return.
“this is it.” he says as you stop in front of his house. you help him up the steps to his front door.
“is anyone home?”
“just my mom.”
“hm. what about your dad?”
the conversation is quickly cut off as his mom opens the door, which wonwoo is secretly thankful for. his mom’s eyes widen as she sees her son bruised.
“wonwoo-ah, what happened to you?” she asks worriedly.
you and wonwoo both glance at each other. his eyes secretly asking you not to say anything. his hand subconsciously squeezes your shoulder. is he actually asking for your help? it might not be directly but you definitely have to rub it in his face later.
“oh, he, uh, fell down the stairs at school, they’re slippery.” you try to make light of the situation. wait, why the hell are you covering for your enemy right now?
“oh my goodness.” his mom gasps and helps grab his other arm. “would you be a dear and help me take him inside?”
“mom, its fine-“
wonwoo is quickly cut off by his mom shushing him. you can feel yourself tense but you smile at her and nod anyway. wonwoo is about to explode. you weren’t supposed to help him. you were supposed to stay far far away from him at all costs. he hates that you even saw him vulnerable and now he has to endure you interact with his mom. this day could not get worse.
you and his mom make it to his room and set him down on the edge of his bed. he groans in pain from the new position but he clenches his jaw to try and hide the pain.
“let me get you some medicine. would you be okay with staying with him? i’ll be right back.” she leaves in a hurry before either of you can protest. its just you and wonwoo, in his room, alone. neither of you say a word as you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room and he stares down at the floor. after what feels like an eternity, he finally looks up at you.
“why?” he asks genuinely. why did you help? why are you still here? why did this happen? just, why?
you open your mouth to reply but his mother returns before you can say anything. she hands him some pain killers and water.
“drink up and get lots of rest.” she says as he gulps the medicine, she plays with his hair. your eyes soften at the sight. you never would’ve thought you’d end up in this position but you’re not apposed to it. not when he looks like a child that just got hurt as he looks up at his mom. you realize you’ve probably overstepped enough today and clear your throat.
“i should probably get going.” you know you should leave, but your feet your dragging as you start walking. “make sure to ice his ribs and give him medication every 5 hours. no more than a few days.” you smile at his mom before you bow at her. “it was nice to meet you mrs. jeon.”
his mom thanks you as you walk out. before wonwoo can even process what just happened, you’re gone. his mom follows your advice, she doesn’t know why but she feels like she can trust you. thankfully he has the weekend to rest. the next day, wonwoo lays on his bed staring at the ceiling as he rethinks everything he’s ever thought about you. his thoughts are interrupted as his mom knocks on the door to give him more medicine. she sits on the edge of the bed as he sits up to take a sip of water. she admires him for a few moments.
“you’re thinking of her.” she says more as a statement than a question.
wonwoo nearly chokes on his water. “no, i’m not.” he says it way too quickly, way too defensively, almost like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone. his mom laughs to herself.
“she’s a sweet girl.” she says.
“her? she’s the opposite of sweet. she’s as bitter as coffee.” he scoffs to himself.
“oh really? bitter people don’t help others the way she helped you. you came home with a bandaid on your cheek, bruised knuckles, and bruised ribs. i know it wasn’t you falling down the stairs.”
wonwoo’s eyes widen at his mom’s observation.
“how did you-“
“a mother knows more than you think and the way she looked at you, covered for you, she cares about you. i think you can trust her.”
he almost laughed at that. almost. trust you? he’d rather get beat up again if it meant that he had to trust you with anything. but then his mother’s words really started to settle in his mind. ‘she cares about you.’ is ringing in his head that he doesn’t even his realize his mom left his room.
over the weekend, you decide to go back to the same bench you took care of wonwoo at. the back of campus, the baseball fields, behind section three of the bleachers. you don’t know why you came back but it’s weirdly comforting. his hand in yours, the way you touched his face. you shake your thoughts and sit down at the bench soaking in the weather as the birds fly. you stay there for awhile thinking about anything and everything. you place your hands on the bench as you’re about to get up until you feel something. you look down at what you’re touching. wonwoo’s glasses.
how you managed to remember the way to his house, you’ll never know. you clutch his broken glasses in your hands like it’s something precious. why the hell are you bringing them to him? they’re already broken. or maybe this is just a valid excuse to see him again. you take a deep breath as you stand at the front door before you knock. his mom answers the door and she lets you inside. before you walk down the hallway, she speaks.
“you’re y/n, right?” your breath hitches but you nod.
“yes ma’am.”
to your surprise, she smiles as she shakes her head fondly. “wonwoo put gum in your hair in the ninth grade because he thought you were so annoying. i’m sure he’ll be more than happy to see you.”
your eyes widen slightly at the reminder of the memory. he was such an asshole, he still is. you don’t say anything as you make your way down the hallway. you knock on his door. wait, did she say he’d be happy to see me?
“what?” he calls out through the door.
“it’s me.” you reply.
its quiet, weirdly quiet until he calls out again.
“come in.”
you enter his room and see him laying down. his hairs messy, he’s wearing a black shirt that you always thought he looked good in. maybe coming here was a mistake.
“what do you want?” he says coldly.
“i came here to return your glasses you asshole.” you smack the glasses down on his desk before you turn to leave, until he stops you. you don’t know how he managed to get up so fast from his bed but his hand is holding your wrist, firm not hurtful.
“thank you.” he says barely above a whisper. you could feel a shiver run down your spine as you turn to look at him. his hand still around your wrist. he’s so tall, his shoulders are so broad, you can’t stop yourself from swallowing as you admire him.
“wonwoo, you need to eat!” you hear his mom calling from the kitchen. his grip loosens just slightly as he sighs. he’s about to walk past you before you stop him this time.
“i got it, go lay down.” he hesitates but reluctantly lets go of your wrist as he goes back to sit down on the edge of the bed. you grab the food from his mother in the kitchen and bring back a tray of food for him. it’s the same smell of ramen that he brings to school for lunch every day. when the hell did you even notice what he brought for lunch?
“here.” you set the tray down in front of him taking a seat at his desk. he used all of his strength to get out of bed and stop you from leaving that he can barely lift his chopsticks to his mouth. you watch as he struggles and giggle to yourself. little does he know that hearing your laugh is music to his ears, its the prettiest thing he’s ever heard.
“what are you laughing at dumbass?” he retorts back. he hates that you’re watching him struggle but he’d do anything to hear that pretty noise come from you again.
“oh me? nothing.” you smile innocently and cover your smile with your hand. he rolls his eyes, feigning offense as he tries again. you laugh once more before you get up from the chair and take the chopsticks from his hand.
“open up.”
there it is again. you bending down to him, your face inches apart as you wait for him to open his mouth. he looks at your eyes almost intimidated by how intimate this feels. you think he’s actually about to give in, but wonwoo wouldn’t be wonwoo if he didn’t make things hard for you.
“i’m not a damn baby.”
“you can’t even feed yourself right now. god, you’re so stubborn.”
“i’m not even hungry.”
and right on cue, his stomach growls. you laugh again. god, every time you laugh he swears time stops.
“if you say so, i’ll just eat it all myself then.”
you lift the noodles to your mouth, about to take a bite before wonwoo’s stomach growls again. his mouth watering at his favorite ramen. he groans.
“fine. just hurry up.” he finally gives in.
you smirk to yourself and begin to feed him. he examines your every move. how you hold your chopsticks, how you’re so attentive to him, how patient you actually are. the air is charged but neither of you move. your small giggles filling the air every so often. you decide to tease him and take a bite of his ramen. your cheeks bubble full of ramen. did you just use the same chopsticks he ate from?
“oh wow, this is really good.” you say, your mouth half full. you’re about to take another bite before wonwoo grabs your wrist. your eyes widen slightly as you look down at him. he looks back at you. you swallow but you just so happen to swallow all of the food in your mouth without chewing, how you didn’t choke is a mystery. you glance down at his lips and take note of the spicy ramen sauce on the sides of his mouth.
“you have a little…” you trail off as your body moves before you can register what you’re doing. your thumb wipes away the leftovers of the sauce. wonwoo swears his brain short circuits right then and there. your soft hands touching his face again, your lashes, how close you are. he doesn’t push you away, couldn’t even if he tried.
“… y/n.”
“y-yea?”
“why are you being so damn nice to me?” he asks as if he’s asking for you to have mercy on him. that you being nice to him stung worse than you hating him. he moves closer, ever so slightly.
“because i- i just”
“just tell me you hate me. please.” he says it quieter than you’ve ever heard him. his hand subconsciously tightens around your wrist. saying you hated him, even if mutual was easy, but the way he’s looking at you, his eyes are pleading. you can’t bring yourself to say it because every time you’ve talked was never real. this right now, is the realest interaction you’ve ever had.
“i can’t.” you whisper back.
he grabs the ramen out of your hand and sets it down before he cups your face so gently. you never thought a guy like him could ever be as gentle as he is right now. your lips part slightly, you glance down at his before they look back at his eyes. you both lean in, your lips less than a breath away from each other.
“wonwoo, what if i hurt you?” you think back to his bruises that are still apparent. he shakes his head slightly.
“i’m not made of glass, you know.” damn asshole using your own words against you but it doesn’t stop you. if anything, you lean in closer. he was so distracted by you that he forgot to kiss you back until you cupped his face in your hands. you taste so sweet. how the hell does one taste sweet after eating ramen? ‘she’s a sweet girl’ his mom’s words ring in his head again and damn was his mom right.
he releases from the kiss just enough to speak.
“stay.”
a/n: wonwoooo. this was not heavily pre read beforehand so i apologize if there were any mistakes. there could be a possible part 2 since the ending is open ended. any feedback or comments are greatly appreciated. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!
