#doyoung reader insert

you carefully place the solved rubik’s cube back onto his desk as he plops down onto the bed. as he starts up his phone to game, you sift through the stack of papers on his desk. biology, math, english literature and social science. all subjects you have helped him in.

“hey, quit gaming already. talk to me,” you throw his eraser at him and it hits him square on the head. he yelps.

“hey! what was that for?” doyoung frowns in your direction while massaging his head.

“to get your attention. you can’t play games all day, you know.”

“why not?”

“because i’m here and i’ll never let you play.”

“...i hate you.”

doyoung slaps his phone onto the space beside him and huffs in annoyance, his brows knitted together in childish anger. he looks just like a bunny, and you resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.

“so… anything interesting happen in school lately?” you ask, launching yourself onto doyoung’s bed and tuck-and-rolling when you land on the sheets. you prop your head up on your elbows and blink at him expectantly.

he puts his finger in between your eyes and pushes you back so you almost roll off the bed. “no, nothing interesting.”

you narrow your eyes at his dilating pupils and notice how his knuckles turn white as he grips his phone. “liar, liar, pants on fire. you can never lie to me.”

he looks a little miffed at your response, but replies, “no, i can't.”

“so tell me.” once again, you look at him with child-like curiosity in your eyes. only this time, it is much more intense. what could he possibly be hiding?

“y/n, i don't want to tell you.”

your face falls and it’s your turn to huff in annoyance. “i hate you too.”

doyoung looks at you out of the corner of his eye and sees you sulking. “fine, dumbass.” you grin in response. “i still hate you though.”

“this random girl in my class, she… she came up to me during lunch and said she liked me. i don't even know why. we’ve never talked.”

“gee, it must be your charming personality then,” you drawl sarcastically. he flicks your forehead again.

“what do i do? what should i say to her? ‘i don't feel the same way about you because we’ve never interacted before’?” doyoung cringes at the thought, groaning and dragging his hand down his face. “i just told her i'd think about it. this is so embarrassing, honestly.”

“hah. not that your parents would ever approve of some random girl at school who doesn’t have fantastic grades or looks or connections. are they still trying to set you up with the daughters of their friends?”

“yep. and it’s always awkward because usually both of us don’t want to be there and we just sit there in silence, staring at each other and waiting for the adults to decide we can finally go home. not once have i met someone remotely interesting.”

“well, that’s love for you,” you chuckle. “hah. love. what a scam. i bet my parents said they loved each other and all that mushy shit. now they’re filing for divorce and arguing every minute of every day.”

“it’s… a scam, to you?” doyoung gives you a look, but you don't know what it means.

“yeah, pretty much. i mean, how many couples stay happy their whole lives? do you know how many people’s parents are divorced? how much ‘love’ could they have felt for each other? certainly not enough to stay together in the long run. in my opinion, the concept of ‘love’ is all fake, made up by people who are so lonely they are delusional with feelings of longing for company.”

“you say all that so casually. like you’re just talking about your opinion of a band, not defacing the name of ‘love’.”

“well, like i said, love is pretty inconsequential to me. like bands.”

doyoung swallows and hesitates before saying, “what if… what if i told you that i think i'm in love?”

you give him the side-eye, then throw your head back in laughter. “if you told me that, i'd tell you that that’s good for you, but don’t say i didn't warn you when it inevitably goes sour.”

“oh.”

you pause and look at doyoung. he is frowning at his lap, and the tips of his ears are red. you cautiously ask, “did i… did i say something wrong?”

“maybe this is a really bad time to say this, but i think i might be in love. with you,” doyoung finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you can see the conviction in his eyes.

you still, and all you can hear is your steady heartbeat. you stare at him for a while, letting that information sink in.

“i know this is probably way too much for you, but i just wanted you to know. you don’t have to act on it, and if you want to just forget this happened and go back to the way we were, i won't fault you. just, please don’t hate me for this. please let us at least continue being friends.”

you shake your head slowly. this is not what you want. this is not what you expected to happen. you exhale shakily, and tell doyoung, “i don't think i'm emotionally ready for a relationship. i don't think i'll ever be. i'm sorry, doyoung.” you pay close attention to his reaction. after all, doyoung is your best friend. you’ve spent your whole life climbing from your room into his via the windows.

he looks away and nods in silence, and you know that you have his understanding. he knows your parents have been fighting since you were both children, and he knows you’ve watched their relationship fall apart. but you can see that he is crestfallen, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“i should go,” you whisper. he nods.

you climb back out of his window.

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