Fake scenarios + one shots (y/n x h/n)

•fake dating• |darling|

Y/n pov:
My best friend finally convinced me to come to this couples' party. The problem? I was single. Still am. But H/N agreed to be my fake date for the evening.
We've known each other for a few years; our friends are mutual, so we've met through them. He doesn't talk much, rarely smiles, and is known as our school's player—which is exactly why I asked him to be my fake date. But I have to admit, I have a crush on him.

"Everybody take a seat, we're going to play a game."
I already regret coming. Everyone sits down—except me. All the seats are taken, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of all the couples.

"Just sit on your boyfriend's lap, shouldn't be a problem," a girl I don't know shouts over the blaring party music. She's right. But little does she know—H/N is not my boyfriend.

I turn around and see him smirking at me. Well, here goes nothing. I sit on the very front of his lap, barely on his knees, trying not to make things more awkward than they already are.

Suddenly, I feel a strong hand wrap around my waist. H/N pulls me closer, pressing me against his chest, adjusting me higher onto his lap. He doesn't let go. Instead, he keeps his hand on my waist.

I don't complain. It feels surprisingly good, sending little electric waves through my whole body. A fluttery warmth spreads from where his hand rests on my waist all the way to my stomach.

"Okay, we're playing truth or dare." Oh no.
The game starts, the questions getting bolder, the dares wilder. I am so screwed.

"Him," a guy says, pointing at H/N.
"Truth," H/N replies.
I silently thank him for choosing truth.
"Does she drive you crazy? And if so, how?"

I freeze, glancing around in panic. Luckily, not everyone is paying attention, but a few people are waiting for his answer.

"Stand up, darling," H/N says. A strange request, but I do as he says, standing in front of him with my back turned to him.

"She drives me crazy in every possible way. Her innocent behavior, her angelic voice, and her smile. But mostly... her body."

I feel his fingers brush through my hair first. "Her hair drives me crazy, especially when it's in a ponytail or when the wind plays with it."
I never knew he noticed these little details about me.

Next, his hands glide down my arms, slow and deliberate, before taking both of my hands in his.
"Her hands drive me crazy. They fit perfectly in mine, and I constantly want to hold them. They're so soft... I want them everywhere on me."

His hands move to my back, tracing small circles, before sliding down to my waist.
"Her waist drives me crazy. I want to hold her by it all the time."

He briefly strokes over my butt, leaning in to whisper, "I think we both know what I would say right now."
I can't help but smile.

Then, his hands trail lower, cupping my thighs.
"Her thighs drive me crazy. Once they've been wrapped around you, once you've touched them, you miss them every second they're not there."

He turns me around, and for the first time, I meet his gaze. His eyes are burning with something I've never seen before. "Okay, that wasn't the truth," he admits.

"Her body doesn't drive me crazy the most—it's her. The way she thinks, the way she acts. That's what I admire most."
But he's not done. "Her eyes drive me crazy. When the sun shines on her face, they almost glow—the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. When you look at them for too long, you get lost in them."

His gaze drops to my lips. "And her lips... they drive me crazy, because every time I look at them, I want to kiss them."

I stare at him, speechless. Those were the most beautiful words I've ever heard. Then, someone starts clapping.

I turn to see everyone watching us. My cheeks heat up. H/N just said all of that in front of everyone. He's insane.
But before I can say anything, he smoothly moves on, looking at someone else.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"Give your boyfriend a lap dance. Or whatever."

He doesn't wait for my reaction. Instead, he pulls me back onto his lap, but this time, I'm facing him. Then, without a word, he lifts me up and walks us through the crowd, out the door. The night air is cool against my skin. He sits on a bench, alone with me in the moonlight.

"Sit on my lap again, darling. I like it when you sit on my lap." I don't argue. The moment I settle down, his hands find my waist again.

"Those things you said... they sounded so real." His eyes meet mine, and he smiles.
"Because they are. Every single word, I meant it, Y/N."

"Then show me." I don't know what comes over me, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
"Kiss me like you mean it." He doesn't hesitate.

His lips meet mine—soft at first, testing, then deeper, more desperate. His fingers trace my body, and I tangle my hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
When we finally break apart, breathless, he grins.

"Do you believe me now?" I nod.

"I believe you. But do you believe me when I say... I might feel the same?" His smirk returns.

"Prove it to me, Y/N."He doesn't have to ask twice.

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Screaming, crying, shitting rainbows. This is my favourite fake scenario now, I just came up with that ahhh crazy, sometimes I love myself. But my expectations now, well fuck they higher than I was yesterday

what the fuck am I saying, I was never high in my life

ANYWAYS

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