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jensthwa · 23 days ago

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mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind.

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened.

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful.

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence.

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you.

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you.

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise.

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him.

He never really wanted to kiss you.

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time.

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along.

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you.

That, of course, didn't happen.

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now.

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.”

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend.

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control.

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why.

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?”

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?”

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.

“God help you, my dear friend.”

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment.

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks.

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night.

He fucked up.

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her.

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday.

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him.

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.”

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real.

If only people knew.

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?”

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise.

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath.

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!” Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout.

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended.

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first.

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?”

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.”

“Are you getting married?”

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?”

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.”

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.”

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.”

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?”

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to.

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process.

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his.

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue.

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family.

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.”

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment.

Alright. Okay. He can do this.

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves.

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.”

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?”

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.”

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…”

“Carefree?” Hwa offers.

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—”

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies.

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats.

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates.

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?”

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain.

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face.

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns.

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?”

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.”

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods.

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all.

He thinks.

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him.

“Babe, don't call her that.”

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?”

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile.

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him.

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—”

“Intense?” Gyuri offers.

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.”

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?”

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug.

“You're something way worse then,�� San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!”

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts.

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually.

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now?

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus.

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday.

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time?

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden?

He groans and then shakes his head.

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies.

“Is there going to be a marriage?”

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends.

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway.

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table.

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.”

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?”

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Because we're not in love!”

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?”

“No!”

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!”

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding.

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.”

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders.

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails.

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.”

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?”

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.”

Hongjoong frowns “Why?”

“I have a schedule now, so…”

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?”

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa.

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little.

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?”

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!”

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—”

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.”

She pauses and then makes a face.

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.”

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.”

“Did I?”

“Yeosang was there.”

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly.

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.”

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.”

“The big deal is that—”

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out.

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes.

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity.

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't.

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number.

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind. +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please). +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart.

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips.

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.”

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love.

“Thank God.”

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory.

“Ugh.”

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day.

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink.

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend.

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting.

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this.

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else.

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to.

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this.

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable.

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house.

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you.

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside.

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning.

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real.

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though.

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing.

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved.

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home.

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place.

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore.

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure.

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind.

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day.

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?”

“You said casual.”

“And this is your casual?”

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright?

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little.

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow.

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it.

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?”

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is.

“Duh.”

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little.

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either.

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't.

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into.

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you.

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe.

This proves that you helped change that. Good.

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly.

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort.

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly.

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.”

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi.

“I think you're a little jealous.”

“What?”

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous.

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.”

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.”

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?”

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug.

“Are you sure?”

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements.

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom).

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?”

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both.

“Everything alright?”

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter.

“We're fine. Did you need something?”

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.”

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.”

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?”

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?”

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—”

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!”

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.”

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.”

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles.

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason.

“Thought you said these kids were tough.”

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity.

“You better not get caught, Jeong.”

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach.

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?”

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first.

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass.

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch.

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho.

You checked when you were upstairs.

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on.

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game.

But maybe you should've.

“Get out.”

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.”

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.”

“How? I literally fit in here, too.”

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb.

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault.

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!”

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back.

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.”

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.”

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—”

“I don't care, get out!”

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on.

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up.

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm.

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time.

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off.

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.”

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.”

“Different how?”

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.”

You get what he's trying to imply.

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.”

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.”

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.”

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.”

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately.

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him.

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.”

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.”

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response.

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.”

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.”

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?”

“More like Barry Pearl.”

He scoffs “Who even is that?”

“Exactly.”

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback.

And wait.

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.”

“You didn't ask.”

“Would you have told me if I did?”

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue.

“See?”

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.”

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho.

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two.

“Well, you got great reviews.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.”

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time.

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words.

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.”

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him.

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends.

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way.

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great.

If you someone would just interrupt yo—

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time.

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here.

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine.

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions.

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well.

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing.

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass.

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere.

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths.

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked.

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need.

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course.

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home.

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead.

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist.

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit.

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.”

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist.

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words.

“Cicadas.”

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.”

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable.

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.”

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.”

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.”

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice.

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?”

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long.

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.”

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room.

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway.

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table.

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.”

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.”

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast.

“I'm not very good at it.”

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.”

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?”

“Yeah, you should go with me.”

That's hilarious.

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh, but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him.

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.”

“What? You told them?”

“They kind of figured it out.”

“Hm, because you have no bitc—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.”

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.”

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.”

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today.

Deflect.

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.”

He lets out a tired breath.

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever.

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight.

“Do they have parking?”

Yunho smiles wide.

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say:

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.”

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing.

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.”

“Why? Where is the concert?”

He says nothing.

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?”

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway.

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.”

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before.

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare.

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!”

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces.

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all.

Great.

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.”

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit.

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.”

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.”

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning.

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one.

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—”

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—”

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod.

“Gotcha.”

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it.

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends.

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving.

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…”

“H-hi, Woo.”

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.”

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all.

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.”

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?”

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.”

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.”

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.”

“Well—”

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.”

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room.

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk.

It's a little freeing.

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little.

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters.

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you.

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together.

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you.

Even if there's plenty of space already.

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!”

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.”

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.”

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.”

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.”

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.”

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?”

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse.

But, like you said, his friends are nice.

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it.

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.”

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.”

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.”

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.”

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind.

It's not this way for everybody.

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm.

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong.

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having.

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.”

“When you take me home.”

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.”

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you.

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost.

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you.

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding.

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.”

Your brother has no taste.

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.”

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?”

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did.

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…”

“I understand.”

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.”

“And you don't like Yunho?”

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.”

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.”

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.”

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two.

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.”

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder.

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone. On you, when you're close to him.

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you.

“We all are?”

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.”

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!”

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.”

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.”

“I'm just saying—”

“Shut up.”

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen.

But some of them think otherwise.

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours.

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.”

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?”

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar.

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?”

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.”

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this.

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this.

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car.

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all.

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.”

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—”

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.”

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago.

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone.

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again.

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.”

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.”

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence.

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see.

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying.

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.”

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking.

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next.

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—”

“Let's go.”

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—”

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.”

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second.

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?”

“Shhhh.”

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room.

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps.

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper.

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.”

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.”

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious.

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.”

“I hate you.”

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is.

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance.

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.”

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!”

“What team?”

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer.

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room.

“I didn't know you dance.”

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle.

“I didn't know you painted until recently.”

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?”

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room.

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.”

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.”

He frowns at you “What side are you on?”

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!”

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—”

“But what?”

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs.

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.”

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.”

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—”

“Oh, stop that.”

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset.

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard.

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought.

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.”

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you.

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it.

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—”

“God, you're impossible.”

What?

“W-what?”

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words.

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed.

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box.

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise.

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.”

His reminder makes you gulp.

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.”

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead.

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.”

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did.

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling.

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't.

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment.

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.”

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he—

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—”

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it?

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon?

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter.

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter.

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily.

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back.

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened.

This is so embarrassing.

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—”

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his.

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity.

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake.

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again.

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more.

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses.

What the hell are you doing?

Your heart races, for a different reason now.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly.

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won.

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too.

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.

“W-what?”

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.”

“Y/N, don’t—”

“I’ll see you next thursday.”

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in.

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do.

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks.

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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lovekt · 1 year ago

Text

⋆ ｡˚ ⋆｡ SLEEPY NIGHTS IN NOVEMBER ⋆ ｡˚ ⋆｡

pairing; lando norris x girlfriend!fem!reader

word count; 1.5k

blurb; where practice goes on for a little longer than expected, and you’re extremely jetlagged. (based off of the las vegas gp fp2)

author’s note; this is my first completed fic ahhh! cant believe i actually finished something for once in my life this is a miracle

<< the library , ln4 masterist >>

LAS VEGAS WAS A BRIGHT CITY. So bright, and yet you were still battling with all-consuming darkness.

You’d arrived more than twelve hours ago. Cameras flashed, questions asked, your mind had been buzzing with excitement for the ever-anticipated Grand Prix at the new track. Hundreds of people; reporters, fans, drivers, bustled about. Drones and tripods followed your every move, microphones bursting your personal bubble, screaming people begging for their caps, shirts and babies to be signed. It crossed your mind more than once that you weren’t a driver, yet the cheers of sheer joy echoed when you walked by.

It was exhilarating, truly. You’d never imagined your life would turn out this way, your face being plastered onto live television, a banner across the bottom presenting you as Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

You’d arrived just in time for Free Practice 2, not getting a chance to find the man in orange before he was off and onto the track for the second time two hours later than scheduled. However, you were soon supplied with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a chair to get comfortable with.

It was colder than usual. Your eyes were permanently fixated on the screen above you. No matter how many times you’d watched your boyfriend race, in person or in the comfort of your shared home, it was never any less terrifying. The noises of pure acceleration, the sparks that would occasionally burst from the back of the car, the knowledge of what could happen and what’s already happened several times before. All of it was enough to keep you on your toes, wide awake, and alert every time.

Every single time, except this one.

The low hum of the engine through your headphones did nothing to help you stay focused, time finally beginning to creep its way back up to you. Your boyfriend’s voice calmly updating his engineers, the muffled chatter of the garage, all of it caused your mind to numb and breathing to begin evening out. It was so late. So, so late, and cold.

Your head suddenly lulled to the side causing your eyes to snap open, saving yourself before you slipped off the plastic foldable chair. God, you hoped the live broadcasting cameras were not allowing thousands of eyes to see you right now.

There were some eyes, though, that had seen you. The engineers dressed in orange pottering around were chuckling, they themselves trying to stay awake by toying with tools and fidgeting with other mechanical things that you didn’t understand. Most of them you were quite friendly with by now as you were a frequent member of the McLaren garage, and they all knew you were the one to go to whenever Lando needed a break. They were grateful to have you. An angry Lando is never a fun time.

Which is exactly why they decided to make an executive decision to save you from the concrete floor below. It was only a matter of time before you ended up hurting yourself.

The screen above you began blurring once more, eyes drooping against your will when a hand placed itself onto your shoulder. One of the engineers that Lando was particularly close with was smiling down at you, softly nudging you forward and guiding you to stand up. You looked at him, eyes glossy and brows furrowed, confused.

He sighed amusedly, “I think it’s time for bed.”

Slight slurred protests began to slip out of your lips but were stopped when you wobbled and had to grip onto the top of the chair for balance. The engineer’s hold on your arm tightened and your exhaustion was too heavy to resist as he began leading you towards the driver’s rooms.

You glanced back at the screen showing your boyfriend’s perspective of the car, not wanting to leave but knowing that it’s probably for the best. There wasn’t any action going on, every driver was tired, nobody was pulling any dangerous moves. It was safe enough to walk away, just for a little bit, just this once.

The door to Lando’s driver’s room was opened and you settled onto the small sofa in the corner, wrapping yourself in a papaya-coloured blanket. Darkness enveloped the room as the engineer flipped the switch, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving you to your thoughts for all of two seconds before a soft voice filled your ears. You’d forgotten to take the headphones off.

Lando spoke to his team, his voice calm and soothing, almost as if he knew you were falling into the depths of unconsciousness in that moment. He was safe. You felt safe.

The second he’d hauled himself out of the car, helmet removed, and interviews finished up, he was on the search for you. Often, you would wander off as soon as the car had been parked, for a bathroom break or to have a quick snack, refusing to do it during the race.

He walked back to his room as fast as possible, weaving between hundreds of people who he didn’t bother giving the time of day. Usually, he would’ve stopped and had a little chat, but it was so, so late and his whole body felt like it was about to crumble. All he wanted was to find you, get changed and make the small trek back to your shared hotel room.

The door was unlocked when he arrived, a sure sign that you were inside and waiting. But when he opened the door ready to be greeted with a sweet kiss, all he was met with was complete darkness. Weird.

His hand reached for the switch and light flooded the room. Sure enough, there you were, cuddled up in his bright orange blanket and sound asleep. Your face was half covered and smushed into the arm rest, knees curled into yourself and a set of headphones askew on top of your mussed hair.

The smile that had etched itself onto his face grew when he noticed the headphones. You’d fallen asleep whilst listening to him talk, even when he wasn’t with you. Even when you were jetlagged, cold, and exhausted, you still made sure he was okay. His chest warmed at the thought.

Lando placed the bottle of water he was holding down onto the table beside him, trying his best to be as quiet as possible as he changed from his suit to a hoodie. You didn’t move a muscle, only light breaths filling the silent space.

You looked so peaceful, lashes fluttering every so often. The urge to try and squeeze himself onto the sofa with you was strong, but the more logical side of him told him that it was finally time to head back to the hotel, and if you stayed in that position much longer then your neck would be unbearably stiff by tomorrow morning. He loved you more than anything in the world, so he knew you well enough to know that you would be moaning to him about it once you’d woken up, and not the moaning that he enjoyed hearing.

Carefully, he brushed the tips of his fingers across your cheek, moving a few stray strands of hair. Your cheeks were warm, a contrast to Lando’s cool touch that caused you to pull your face away and tuck it further into the safety of his blanket. His lips twitched slightly. You would hate him for this now, but thank him later, he thought, as he swiftly curled his fingers around the edge of the blanket and pulled it down.

Your skin, exposed to the night air, broke out into goosebumps as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. Lando slowly rubbed his palm up and down your arm, bringing his lips to your forehead and kissing you softly.

Your eyelids fluttered open, pupils narrowing to the bright light of the room as an almost silent groan escaped you.

Your eyes darted around for a moment before landing on your boyfriend, crouched down beside you with his hand stroking your hair. He was smiling at you lovingly, eyes squinted and laced with a tinge of mischief. “G’morning, baby.”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to open your mouth in a yawn directed straight at his face. He chuckled quietly.

“I think it’s time we get you to bed, hm?”

You rested your head back against the armrest, closing your eyes once more, “I’m already in bed.”

“I’m sure you are.” He said, before rising back up to his full height and slipping one hand underneath your neck, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and the other around the back of your knees. Your hand instinctively curled around his bicep as you were lifted into the air, taking note in the back of your mind at how effortlessly he seemed to manoeuvre you.

As Lando began to carefully place you onto your feet, a wave of adoration filled you to the core. He’d just been working for hours straight, and yet here he was taking care of you. The love you had for this boy was absolutely unmatched.

And what better way to show him this than by using the little energy you had restored during your nap to rise onto your tiptoes and press a sweet kiss against his awaiting lips.

@lovekt

#— lovekt’s works.#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one x reader #lando norris imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff

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corpsebasil · 1 year ago

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New Masterist because the Old One was getting long

Nikolai Lantsov

- knight Nikolai au, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

knight nikolai with knight reader, the tent scene

- knight Nikolai requests: 1, 2, 3, 4

—— knight Nikolai rapunzel fic , part two

- knight Nikolai aesthetics because I’m sorry I’m obsessed with this message

- knight Nikolai captive au

- Knight Nikolai playlist for you

Firefighter Nikolai Series: part 1, part two

Knight Nikolai and Dragon Rider

Reader request -> Marriage Tour Fluff

Vasily’s wife

The Last Stand-> tragic past Grisha au

Modern Prince Nikolai Masterlist

Hunger Games x Nikolai Au List

Ethan Landry

- the summer I loved you series

Scream 7

- Stu’s kids hc’s

- Ansel Drabble—> when you get hurt

#masterlist

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xreaderbooks · 2 years ago

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All I breathe (1)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture

Summary: After the events of the war, Y/n struggles to move on and find her place in the night court. All but one member has forgiven the past.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Playlist

a/n: let me know if you want to be tagged for future parts, this was based on two requests that I got a while ago, I promised them that I would post this soon but it never happened but here it is literally a year later. Two requests merged into one. This is a enemies to lovers + other court reader x Azriel requested fic.

Masterlist - Series Masterist - Next Chapter

The family gathered around the dinner table, seating themselves in their respective spots. One by one- the clambering not stopping even as they sat, conversation echoed within the walls of the river house. Every Saturday; mandatory for everyone. Your position in the High Lord's inner circle was questionable.

Your fraternal twin brother was the unwanted mate of the High Lady's second eldest sister; and you? You've managed to gain a job as the night court emissary alongside Lucien, though you wouldn't exactly say you acquired the job yourself. Circumstances weren't so easily spoken of.

You took your place between Lucien and Nesta. The air around you was tense, not at all the influence of those around you, it was simply how you felt whenever you ate dinner with Rhysand's family. Quarrels between you and the night court have long been settled but for so long these people had been your enemy. While you held nothing against them except for maybe one of them, your remorse hasn't allowed you to move on from your past.

The burn of a stare from the person sitting directly across from you pulled you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head from the plate of food your brother served you and narrowed your eyes at him. You picked up your fork and rolled your eyes, focusing your attention back on eating.

~~~

He was a nuisance, a fly following the scent of your blood.

Seriously for someone who hated you so damn much, he truly does not leave you alone. You paced in front of the door of the war room before finally deciding to walk in, inconveniently as you did, the door opened. As someone walked out the door it slammed into your nose.

You let out a yelp, clutching your nose as your attacker swiftly moves past you. "Fuck!"

"Watch yourself," Azriel snarled. It was the only acknowledgment he gave you as he walked away. Somehow with your aching nose, you were able to catch his scent, it made you shiver, though you didn't know whether it was because of the slow subsiding pain or your body's natural reaction to preserve you from the shadowsinger's aura.

"An apology would be appreciated." You murmured. You reopened the door about to enter when you heard him.

"Perhaps if you weren't sneaking around this accident wouldn't have happened." His head was looking over his shoulder as he spoke.

"Last I heard, sneaking around is your thing, far be it from me to do your job." Your body's halfway through to the room on the other side of the door. "And I'll have you know my being here was requested."

You didn't wait for him to respond, letting the door close on its own behind you, you pressed your back against it and gently tapped your nose.

"Are you alright?" A voice rose from the middle of the room. You winced, forgetting what you were here for even as you were just talking about it.

You sighed, "Yes. A small incident, though I'm sure you already knew that."

Rhysand gave you a questioning look, "We sure it's not broken?"

"A broken nose definitely doesn't feel as okay as it does now," You made your way to the violet-eyed male who called upon you. The reason for your pacing and your almost-broken nose. He motioned for you to have a seat in the chair across from him. The awkward feeling crept in, this male was daemati which meant you'd have to build your mental block to keep your thoughts from being too loud and letting him into your anxiety.

"There's no need for you to worry Y/n," It was too late. "Why do you stress?"

His concern conflicted you, he should hate you. Your acquaintance was past hate but culpability ate you. "I don't, I'm fine."

"I noticed you were quiet at dinner, Feyre noticed."

"She didn't want to tell me herself that she noticed?" Your tone slipped into defense. In truth, you missed Feyre's company, you hadn't had a proper conversation with your new High lady since you made Velaris your permanent residence.

"She doesn't want to pry."

"And you do?"

"I'm your High Lord, it's my job to see that my people are faring well in my court."

"And are you?" You furrowed your brows, "My High Lord, I mean."

Rhysand chuckled, "Y/n, you are not your family. No matter the part you played when Feyre was trapped with that bastard." The bastard being Tamlin, the male who was the key component in your guilt.

Your fake husband for all intents and purposes.

"Knowing this," He continued. "Feyre has moved on, it's time you have to."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, "There's just so much I feel I need to apologize for. I was wrong about everything, about you and your court. What you've built here is beautiful and I do not want you or Feyre to think that I am taking this for granted, all things considered."

"You have apologized enough. And all things considered, you are one of us." He gave you a small smile. "Now we have business to discuss, this will be a tough one but it's one that only you can do."

He explained the details of the assignment, you were to join Azriel or more like the other way around. To go to the Autumn Court, a stronger strain of fae bane had been created and word had come that it was traveling in the direction of that court. Dangerous as it is to go back to that court when you were living in the night court and no longer under Tamlin's protection, the world would be an even more dangerous place if Beron got his hands on the new poisonous plant. Azriel will continue his spy work while you, the 'distraction' of sorts will meet with your kin. Everything is to be kept under wraps, no one wanted to know what Beron would do with a dosage of a poison that strong.

Your position as emissary would ward away any suspicion and your presence absolutely distracting to the family you hadn't seen since the war had ended.

You cursed Lucien for leaving so suddenly this morning. He should be here and taking this job, you felt his absence completely, you were alone. You lived- temporarily- in a house full of people you once hated, now you were pretty confident you could call them friends and yet you were alone.

~~~

It had been a while since you were bait. Long before you joined the Spring Court with your brother, when you were still a girl and life could be perceived as happy, Eris and the rest of your brothers knew your beauty could capture men with even the strongest of wills. You were young and innocent and it was easy. They used you as a trap, a siren of sorts, to lure the men who had wronged them. Males who had committed all sorts of crimes and those who hadn't committed any at all. It had been a job that you weren't nicely compensated for.

Perhaps it was the only time you had received any compliments from your family at all, with Lucien being the exception. You were paid with the slightest amount of praise from your father and brothers and an unlimited amount of guilt for pulling in men to their deaths. With a less-than-decent monetary sum. They didn't see the need for you to have as much money as they did when you lived in the palace and this way you could be solely dependent on them. You would have no escape.

In the short time, you had with these men whether they were criminals or not, you mourned for them- the kind-hearted ones at least. You used to pray to the mother for forgiveness and with time you became numb.

That was until you had fallen in love with one of them.

You were the type of girl who had hopelessly believed in finding your mate, despite the fact that having a mate was a rare thing, that was proving not to be the case more often now. You couldn't possibly know what it would feel like to have the mating bond, but if what you felt for the boy was anything close to it, you don't know what you would do with yourself if you were to be so blessed.

If there was one thing you and your brother, Lucien, could relate to- is tragic love stories.

Your father loved his boys and your favorite brother but you were a disappointment. You were a spoiled child, always getting what you wanted with anything and everything you could ask for, with your gentle compassion no one could complain. As you got older, the threat of reality faced you, you were a female in a family of sadistic males.

Their love for you faded and soon you were a bargaining chip and if anyone tampered with the value of the one card they held that could gain them access to whatever and whoever, they would pay. And so the pretty baker boy who inherited his father's great debt to your family had to pay.

You didn't get the chance to tell him how much you truly loved him, you didn't even know his name. You didn't get to know any of the names of the males you flirted with to stop any form of attachment to them. It was for the best, you thought, it prevented you from acting in ways you knew you would regret.

You reflected on the traumatic events from your life as you packed. There would not be much, knowing your family they would have your wardrobe ready for your arrival. Weapons and equipment for your travels were what you needed, so far everything was accounted for and ready to go.

You mentally checked for everything you needed when a knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts.

"How are things?" The youngest Archeron sister stood at the door frame.

"Good," You nodded, looking around the room for a hint at anything you might have missed. "Just finishing up."

An amused smile formed with an eyebrow quirk, "You do realize you leave tomorrow at noon?"

"I do, I just like to be prepared, that way I can sleep peacefully and possibly remember if I've forgotten something." You smiled softly, this felt normal. Like old times.

She walked into your room now, traced her fingers atop the furniture, and she paused at an iridescent music box. She picked it up and opened it, winding it up. "Reminds me of someone I know."

"What do you mean?" You eyed the box, knowing what it meant. During Feyre's time at the Spring Court, you were friends. As much friends as she and Lucien had been, even closer still. You tried to protect her from Tamlin in ways that you could but there was only so much you could do when you owed him your life. The music box was a comfort gift to her, things were getting complicated with Tamlin and they were about to get worse. You knew of this tune you heard once in a dream and had gifted the music box to her. She listened to it while she painted.

"Azriel. You both are so similar in the smallest ways, he's always ready for anything. Shame you don't get along." She pursed her lips.

You almost took it offensively when you remembered that this was progress, you and Feyre had spoken civilly, you apologized and begged for forgiveness, spoke some more and it was fine. But this was the closest it had been to how it used to be without the involvement of Tamlin. It didn't help that you noticed how true Feyre's words were.

You huffed, "Not my fault he's a prick and doesn't like me. I don't like him much either but I'd be willing to try if he didn't make it so godsdamned difficult."

"Yeah, he has trust issues-" She closed the music box once she was done observing it. "May I keep this?"

Your eyes softened, "Of course."

She pulled you into a hug, "Y/n, I know Az hasn't made it easy and it might not be obvious but I do trust you, a lot has happened since the past and you have long since redeemed yourself. Not only do I think so but the rest of them do too."

You squeezed her in thanks with shut eyes, willing the tears away. You had missed her friendship. It was a slow and agonizing process, moving to the Night Court in the middle of a war and getting to know the people Feyre had chosen. These people you grew up hating, the enemy whom you heard nothing but bad from time and time again from people who influenced your whole life. Then realizing why she had chosen them. These people were a family and nothing like what you've heard or expected.

It was a strange sight to see how naturally fun-loving yet powerful they are. It was taunting at first, how unbothered they were while you sat through dinners silently observing them. You didn't know if you would ever not feel like an outsider around them but eventually, after a long conversation, you and Mor had formed a friendship, and so had you and Cassian with the training you had decided to start. You and Rhysand were professional mostly, he's been trying to get you to be more at ease around him but knowing everything with his mother, sister, and Feyre- it was hard to let go of the fact that you were on the wrong side for a long time.

Now that you know you and Feyre were all good, maybe you could finally start to move on.

She pulled away and laid a hand on your cheek, swiping her thumb across your cheek, a sweet gesture. "You're gonna kill me."

Your eyes widened, "What?"

She eased you to sit at the edge of your bed, clasping her hands in front of her and clearing her throat. "You and Azriel are sharing a room in Autumn."

"What?" Your jaw dropped.

"It's either that or Azriel camps out in the woods nearby but that'll increase the risk of him getting caught and they don't know he's gonna be in Autumn at all at least not for the first few days-"

"Can't he just winnow back and forth?" You argued.

"You know that'll be a waste of energy you're not even winnowing there all the way, besides it's not so bad, hopefully, this will get you both to finally get to know each other."

"Spending the night with him is a waste of energy," You murmured. As if going to your hellscape of a childhood home wasn't enough.

A wide grin spread across her face, "Actually-"

You caught onto her amusement, "Nope. That's not happening- Gods, how long am I stuck with him?"

"4 nights. Not counting the night you will more than likely have to stay at dawn court, which reminds me we have to send word to Thesan." She said that last part to herself, zoning out slightly, no doubt communicating with Rhysand but speaking out loud.

"Does he know?" There's no way he'll ever agree, he'll get caught in the woods before he ever agrees to sleep in the same room as you. He avoids you at all costs and when he is around you his words are violent. They call him the quiet one yet his slick tongue is sharper than his knives whenever you're around.

"Rhysand is speaking to him right now," As if it were planned the house rattled at the slam of the heavy front door. You and Feyre flinched at the reverberating sound. You cocked your head and raised a brow. She winced, "He'll be fine."

~~~

You sat at the breakfast table witnessing the atrocity that was happening in front of you, your brother's mate was softly caressing the spymaster's arm, and they whispered quietly to each other. The only ounce of kindness you had ever seen the male with blue siphons was with her. It was irritating. Luciens mate was infatuated with your enemy, how comical.

You didn't know what to make of your High Lady's sister, she barely spoke to you kept to herself and sometimes to her sisters, Nesta was highly protective of her and so was Azriel. It was a bit bothersome when something within you told you there was more to her than the delicate demeanor she portrayed. You didn't care to find out honestly, what you did care about was Luciens happiness.

Not that Elain owes Lucien anything but seeing your brother chase and cater to her at any given chance was disheartening, she can't even give him the courtesy of rejecting the bond. With that maybe then he'd heal from the breaking of the bond. But she didn't reject him and you knew that gave Lucien hope, but as you watch the pair standing on the veranda, there was no none.

What you would have given to have a mate yet now you weren't so sure.

"Are you done?" A voice cut through your mind and suddenly you realize a tall sculpted figure was standing in front of you.

You set down the glass of orange juice you were drinking, before licking your lips and thinking of a response, only to ask "What?"

He rolled his eyes and took the seat diagonal from you, "Are you done staring?"

"I wasn't staring, I was trying to admire the view that you and the fair young maiden were blocking." You glared at him and slid out of your chair, grabbing your empty plate and glass about to head to the kitchen.

"Oh is that what that was?" He glared back.

"Yeah, and you know for someone who is supposedly one of the most powerful Illyrians in the world you seem pretty weak to me, Shadowsinger. Pining over female after female-"

He was out of his chair and towering over you in a flash with teeth bared, "Don't speak of what you don't know, Firewielder."

"I only speak of what I see," You stepped an inch closer though you weren't sure if it was entirely possible considering you were now breathing the same breath. "Tell was she praying for your safe return in her arms while you go off to war."

"What do you care, Vanserra?" He laughed bitterly, "I applaud you for being aware of how much you lack being worthy of any sort of affection. Is that why you frown at Elain so? because you know that unlike her you don't deserve to be cared for."

You felt the familiar burn in your veins, you were shaking from the restraint of wanting to hurt him. His height made you tilt your head up to look him in the eye, you hated it. He was too close and your neck strained from the height difference. Your eyes burned with hatred, he was the only member of the inner circle you truly believed was a monster from hell. His shadows flurried behind him, as restless as the flames you kept under control. You needed to get away from him to release your stress before you exploded but he wasn't budging away from the eye contact so you wouldn't either.

"What's going on guys?" Cassian's leaning by the entrance of the room, arms crossed chewing on an apple. "If you guys want to take out some of that tension and potentially kill each other there's a whole yard out front you could do that on, let's not disturb the peace of this household. Or if it's the other type of tension, do it the normal way and go upstairs."

You backed away from Azriel, storming off to the kitchen to dispose of the plate and cup.

~~~

Chapter 2

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romana-after-dark · 2 years ago

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Dark!Romana's Masterlist

READ ALL WARNINGS

ALL FICS ARE DARK TO VARYING DEGREES, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO DUB CON/NON CON

Find my normal fics full of explicate consent and love and communication and fluff at my main, @romanarose

In the meantime

The Last Of Us Masterist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Triple Frontier Masterlist

Logan Howlett Masterlist

Other

Marcus Acacius

Sacrificial Lamb: Marcus Acacuis has a battle that your city depends on. In order to insure success, he needs to sacrifice a virgin at an altar as he deflowers her

Narcos

Este Noche Te Voy a Foller: You work for Javi and Steve and find them at the dance club you went to. They don’t take you privately.

Miguel O'Hara

Tell Me: Miguel obtains the information he needs DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT I originally posted this here and when I woke up it had 3 notes and I was like oh so I see this went to far. Okay. Then I deleted it lol but when I went to delete the AO3 but the ao3 had like. 50 KUDOS LOL. Anyway I might post it here again but for now heres the ao3 link, warning it DARK idk how many times i gotta tell you this

Nathan Bateman

Pushing Buttons: You purposely piss Nathan off and he takes out his anger on you.

I don't necessarily take requests, but if you have ideas i'm happy to hear them!

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lowlylux · 9 months ago

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All About Me + Ultimate Masterist

Hi! I’m Lux. I’m 19, and I go by they/them pronouns. I write fanfiction and mostly write for HeiKazuScara from Genshin. My OTPs are Soukoku from BSD and ZhongChiLuc from Genshin. I’m a cat person, but I also keep reptiles. I’m an INFJ….i think that’s about it on the “who I am” front.

✧

Socials

Ao3

TikTok

✧

Links to masterlists

HeiKazuScara fic masterlist

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint) masterlist

I Smell of Smoke masterlist

✧

Spotify Playlists

HeiKazuScara

ZhongChiLuc

✧

Have money to donate? Here’s some really good links :)

Relief for the Children of Gaza

Gazafunds

eSims for Gaza

Adopt a Family Foundation: lending a hand to victims of terror

Gender Affirming Care

Help the LGBTQ+ Community

Support LGBTQ+ Artists and Creatives

Save LGBTQ+ Venues

GoFundMe Causes

#lowlylux #fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #archive of our own #genshin #heiscara #heikazuscara #scarakazuhei #scarahei #kazuscarahei #kazuscara

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glitch-karma · 2 years ago

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Welcome in:

✧ I'm Glitch/Karma, I'm a multi fandom x reader blog

✧ I mostly write for anime fandoms

Tags:

✧ #glitchs✧works All fics

✧ #glitchs✧rambles Random posts by me

✧ #glitch✧asks answers to asks that aren't requests

✧ #glitch✧reblogs Reblogs by me

✧ #glitchs✧art my art

Masterlist Activities:

If a character isn't listed you can still request just keep in mind I may not do it

✰'s indicate a character I like to write for more than others

I will do pretty much any genre of x reader so suggest whatever you want

I have read a lot of manga including the following; My Hero, Demon Slayer, Bungo stray dogs + all of the bungo light novels (I will always be up to date up Bungo)

I'll write some spice but I most likely won't write pure nsfw

I can mention most triggering topics and TW's will be found at the top of each post

You can request anything thats not pure nsfw, or anything just genuinely fucked, use common sense dudes

I do reserve the right to refuse or ignore any request so if you don't get a response sorry bro

Bungo stray dogs Masterlist

Vanitas No Carte Masterlist

Genshin Masterlist

Attack On Titan Masterlist

Danganronpa Masterist

Demon Slayer Masterlist

My Hero Academia Masterlist

Kaguya-sama: Love is War Masterlist

Project Sekai Masterlist

Jujustu Kaisen Masterlist

Horimiya Masterlist

Haikyuu Masterlist

Stardew Masterlist

#bungo stray dogs x reader #vanitas no carte x reader #genshin x reader #attack on titan x reader #danganronpa x reader #kny x reader #my hero x reader #Love is war x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #horimiya x reader #haikyuu x reader #stardew x reader

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linkspussy · 1 year ago

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As per request of my server bc I'm very nice: masterist of all Zelda omorashi fic on A03, excluding fics where omo is not a main focus. I will update this whenever new fic drops :]

#nsft #omorashi #omorashi masterlist

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year ago

Note

Do you do ABO fics?

I Just Want What’s Mine*

warnings: smut, dirty talk, thigh riding, degradation, exhibitionism, abo dynamics, unprotected sex, oral(m receiving)

masterist | harry styles masterlist

a/n: i do, yes. and i thought i added this to my masterlist but it’s been sitting in my google docs since i remade my acc LOL

YN lets out a pained cough as she breathes in the hot, sticky atmosphere of the crowded living room that her and her boyfriend have just entered. The smell of weed and alcohol hits the back of her throat with the first inhale the second her foot crosses the threshold. She can feel her boyfriend’s warm hand on her waist as he keeps her close to him, guiding the two of them through the disarray of bodies that fill the decently sized room. Looking around, YN can see all heads turn to eye them for a split second before flitting away, whispering to the people around them. Soon enough, the house is quiet save for the sound of “Young Folks” by Peter Bjorn and John.

A slight grimace decorates her face, and a dimpled smile adorns his as they get deeper into the house. Harry’s used to this atmosphere, and YN is the exact opposite. She never went to parties unless it was for family, and the only time she drank is when she was alone or with just her and Harry. The pair makes their way over to the couch that is overflowing with bodies, some people on the cushions and others resting on the back. With one look at Harry, they get the message loud and clear just from the look in his eyes. Instantly, group dissipates to give the couple room to sit comfortably. YN is both equally impressed and scared, wondering what Harry did to gain the kind of reputation he has with his pack members. With just a single look, Harry managed to assert his dominance, no words spoken.

Harry gives all of them one last intense stare before he turns to YN and gives her a bright, dimpled smile, motioning to the now empty couch for her to take a seat. She smiles in thanks and sits down, placing her handbag on her lap as he sits as well, throwing his arm onto the back of the couch, resting behind her head. The two sit there for a while as various people come by and say hello, introducing themselves to YN and greeting their pack leader, making sure they don’t get to close to his lover. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of any of them, watching each individual like a hawk. A deep growl is bubbling in his chest when Jacob, one of the inferior alphas in the pack, gets a bit too close to her, a threatening glint in his eyes as he broadens his shoulders and prepares to attack. Luckily, the man steps away in fear, and YN takes the opportunity to rub at Harry’s hand, calming him down.

The defensive man finally relaxes into the couch at her touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips. They sit and relax there for a while, watching the party happen and having their own little conversations. About ten minutes in, one of Harry’s men ends up bringing them two red solo cups filled with clear alcohol, and Harry makes sure to check it for anything out of the ordinary despite his trust for the other man. When he smells nothing but alcohol in their cups, he passes one to YN for her to sip on as they continue to talk. Sometime when they were talking, Harry had placed his free, ringed hand on YN’s thigh without her noticing, and it was gradually going further and further under her skirt throughout the conversation. YN only notices his intent when he reaches her inner thigh, very close to her vagina. She relaxes into the couch as she realizes that Harry is falling right into her trap. When his hand finally grazes the place where her thighs meet, he realizes that there is no barrier between his hand and her skin.

“Where the fuck are your panties?” he grits out, leaning over to speak directly into her ear, eyes darting up to her face. He immediately takes in the smug smile on her face, realizing this was her plan all along. “Oh, I see,” he hums. “You wanted to get punished tonight, hm?” he whispers against the shell of her ear before biting down gently, continuing. “I don’t think you’d like my punishments tonight, though,” he muses, satisfied with the way her body tenses up at the plural term. The party is awfully quiet, each wolf straining their ears to hear what the couple is speaking about. Some faces are red, eyes on their shoes, while others are listening shamelessly, stopping their actions to hear.

“Do you know who you’re fucking with? Or should I remind you? Think m’gonna. Right here in front of everyone,” he spits, trailing his right hand up her thigh once more. A smirk forms on his face as he sees her right hand that is holding her beverage start to shake slightly, nerves entering her body at his words. “Spread y’legs a bit” he murmurs, and she does so immediately, giving him access to her wet center.

His fingers instantly take purchase on her throbbing clit, a small mewl leaving her parted lips as he rubs directly over the head. Warm Wetness is dripping from her vagina and into her skirt, her hips bucking up into his hand. The second he picks up speed, she moans under her breath, the feeling making her entire body tingle. He keeps his fingers on her clit, not stopping his ministrations as her orgasm builds rather quickly. Just as she gets close to the edge, her legs shaking slightly around his hand, he pulls his fingers away and laughs darkly as he hears her cry out in frustration before turning and burying her face into his shoulder.

The two of them know that every single person in the room can smell her arousal, can hear her sounds of pleasure, but are trying their hardest to ignore it. They all know that if they even look at YN the wrong way, Harry won’t hesitate to end their lives. The rest of the partygoers continue dancing to the music awkwardly, talking and drinking as they try their hardest to ignore the situation happening in the dead center of the party. Tears of frustration are welling in her eyes, her orgasm quickly fading away. Harry, not being able to let her be, decides to tease her a bit.

“Need me to fuck you, hm? Just say the word and I’ll end this party right now so I can fuck you real good. How does that sound, Puppy?” he asks, stroking up and down her thigh with his wet hand. Despite the fact that it isn’t his home, he obviously has the power to end it just for her, and that has her cunt clenching around nothing as she nods furiously into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he coos, a condescending undertone to his words. YN nods again, this time with a whimper, making him smile in victory. “That’s cute and all, but I need your words, baby,” he warns, a thick whine bubbling in her throat when he doesn’t immediately give in.

She pulls away for just a moment to speak into his ear, her voice desperate and breathy. “Please, Alpha. Need it so bad,” she whines, burying her face into his shoulder once more. He chuckles at her desperation, his cock leaking even more at the compelling smell of her thick arousal in the air. It makes the small room feel even more compact, and he’s instantly growling out his command for everyone to leave, every single alpha, beta, and omega leaving the house in a hurry, wanting their lives to be spared.

Once the room is empty save for the two of them, Harry lifts her skirt and pulls her over to straddle his thigh, pressing her bare cunt against the thick muscle. She gasps as she feels the rough material of his pants against her clit. He barely gives her time to adjust before he’s placing both hands on her hips, helping to move her sopping cunt along his thigh. She nearly falls over at the feeling in her sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving her lips.

“Feel good, baby?” he coos, YN nodding quickly as he works her along the thick muscle. “Look at that. Y’just soaking my pants, sweet girl. ” he teases, and she doesn’t even have the energy to make a rebuttal, letting him help her cum. Moans are leaving her lips as another orgasm builds, and she can only let it happen, hoping he’ll let her cum this time.

“Gonna cum,” she whispers, her breath catching in her throat as he cunt literally quivers against his thigh, and he’s immediately holding her onto him firmly, stopping her movements. She’s instantly tearing up again, falling into his chest and babbling wordlessly as her orgasm fades away once more. Harry removes a hand from her hip and places it onto her back, rubbing up and down gently as he knows he’s being really mean.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks her, hearing her whine. “Use y’words, Puppy. Can’t understand what you need when you’re all dumb for me. Haven’t even given you m’cock yet and you can’t even use your words. Do I really have that effect on you?” he teases, watching her get all shy and embarrassed. “No need to be ashamed, Lovie. Just tell me what y’need, pup,” he tuts, grabbing her chin gently to coax her into making eye contact with him.

“Need you deep inside me, please. Need to feel you, for you to make me cum. I’ll be such a good girl for you I swear,” she whines, nuzzling into his grip. He hums in satisfaction, looking into her glossy eyes, sensing how bad she needs it. He needs it too, so he decides to put the both of them out of their misery.

“Alright, baby. Ass up” he says, landing one last smack on her sore ass cheek to get her going. She’s instantaneously scrambling to prop up onto the back of the couch, Harry kneels in order to slide behind her. “Ready for me?” he asks, gripping the base of his thick cock, preparing her for him.

She nods and lets out a whimper as she feels his weepy tip swipe through her swollen folds, mewling for him to get into her. He decides to end her suffering, sliding in her tight opening inch by inch, her walls stretching to accommodate him. The both of them groan out into the thick air of the room, and a slight squelching can be heard as he slides into her, bottoming out. Her eyes flutter closed as she feels every vein on his cock against her velvety walls, the slight sting of him stretching her out making her whimper.

Harry stays that way for a while, his hips flush to hers as he relishes in the feeling of her warm, wet walls around his shaft. She feels so fucking good he doesn’t know how long he’ll last before he’s exploding into her. The second he feels like he won’t explode with one thrust, he pulls out until his tip is resting at her entrance before pushing all the way back into her, sliding against her g-spot. She’s moaning into the arm of the couch, tears building in her eyes as she takes in every ounce of pleasure he’s giving her.

“How’s it feeling, Puppy?” he asks over her whines, a smile on his face when she physically can’t answer. “Is that deep enough for you? Feel me deep in y’tummy?” he coos, his cock twitching when she nods and presses her ass against his hips. “So fucking good around me, baby” he moans, still fucking her slow and deep.

He pulls out once more before slamming into her harder, a surprised yelp leaving her lips at the change. “Fuck!” she exclaims against the fabric, her hands fisting the cushions. She’s nearly ripping the cushions with her nails, gripping onto them tightly as he drills into her perfectly. Harry is literally so deep inside her, filling her to the brim as he stuffs every inch of his cock inside with each thrust. She’s so full of him she can barely breathe, gasping for air with each and every plunge. He can feel her starting to clench already, her past orgasms coming back at full speed.

“Y’gonna cum, m’love? Hm? Gonna soak m’cock before I let you rest?” he pants, rubbing up and down her back as her entire body locks up, her orgasm moments away. She nods into the cushions once more, biting down on the fabric as she holds back until she has permission. “Okay, Puppy. Cum for me, cum for your alpha like a good little pup” he coos, and no more than five seconds later, she’s cumming all over his cock with a shout, a thick layer of cream covering the base of him.

He doesn’t stop fucking her, riding out her orgasm. With each thrust, he feels more and more of her cream coat him, leaving his lower belly sticky with her orgasm. He fucks her until her body goes limp against the couch before pulling out slowly and making his way around to where her head is, her body twitching with the aftershocks. He rubs a hand over her head, watching her relax into it.

“Can you go again or should I just clean y’up?” he rasps, despite his throbbing cock still needing stimulation. She says nothing, propping herself up and leaning forward to take his cock into her mouth, suckling on the red, weepy head of it. A groan is bubbling from deep in his chest and he’s trying to refrain from bucking into her mouth. He’s instantly sent over the edge when YN takes all of him into her mouth and down into her throat, his head thrown back and his mouth dropped open in a silent scream. She sucks him dry, cleaning every last drop of cum from his cock as his legs shake in overstimulation.

Whining, he pulls away from her and makes eye contact. “You didn’t have to do that, baby” he pants. “Was just gonna clean you up” he says, rubbing over her head gently. She just shakes her head, a yawn leaving her lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I know. Just get over here and cuddle me. M’tired,” she whispers, reaching up to pull him toward her. He chuckles at his perfect girlfriend, lying down on the couch before flattening her onto him, wrapping his arms around her. The two fall asleep within a few minutes, right there in the center of the room.

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azrielslightintheshadows · 1 year ago

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Hi, just wondering since you posted that Helion fic, it's not currently on the masterist...are you planning on only having the batboys fics on the masterlist, or will your pieces for other characters like helion, lucien and eris be there too?

Tbh I just forgot to add it 😬

I’m so sorry, I’m going to add it now! Everyone will be in the Masterlist.

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versadies · 2 years ago

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Just wanted to say that I really, really love evermore. I hope that you write a Kazuha or an Ayato (fluff) fic one day as your characterizations are so on point.

awwww tysm comrade, that means a lot to me <333 💗💗💗

#— ( chatting with penpals 😌 )#— ( about . evermore )#i acc do have a few kazuha fluff fics in my masterist tho !!! u can check it out if youd like <33

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jensthwa · 3 months ago

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mountebank chem pt. two (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 14k (i'm so sorry).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, crying, mentions of drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, petty behavior, insults, hwang hyunjin and hwang yeji cameos omg, yunho being a misunderstood puppy i fear, yunho and reader really hate each other but not so much anymore, pet names (princess), negative mentions of body image, mention of panic attacks/panic disorder, no smut on this part but so, so, so much tension oh god these two idiots.

NOTES: hi everyone! so, sorry for almost taking a month to finish the next part of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of the stories on my masterist! i also forgot to mention before that gunho is older in this universe bc i think he's younger than yunho irl?? i'm not sure bc i don't look into their families like that lmao. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 12th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part three.

Yunho has never been more stressed in his entire life.

It's easy to tell and it's an issue for you. When it's evident someone is not comfortable, that's when the vipers get together and organize their attacks.

And right now, he's your date for the night, so you can't really let that happen.

The gala is breathtaking, as expected. The room is lit with fairy lights all around the roof and they mimic stars. It's the theme of the night and the beautiful dresses and suits everyone is wearing it's enough to let you know both your mother and Yunho’s mom kindly threaten everyone to follow their delusions as well.

It looks like a very expensive prom and it's pretty but you hate it. Maybe because of the overall situation you went through today or your lack of sleep but you hate it.

Or maybe it's the amount of eyes you have on you tonight. Twice the usual amount, if the warmth on the back of your neck is any indication of how much people are gossiping about you and Yunho right now.

When you walked in half an hour ago, Yunho on your arm, everyone went silent as you said your hellos and went to your assigned seats.

And then the murmurs started to fill the room slowly until they became unbearable and, eventually, you started to acclimate to them, like you always do.

Yunho is a completely different story. It shows that he's not used to this, the fidgeting of his feet and his leg going up and down and bouncing the table cloth on both his and your leg triggers something that only causes further annoyance.

You're seated (just the two of you, because your brother and his are at a completely different table for some reason) at one of the main tables, near the stage where a talented kid who, you're sure, is the son of one of your father's friends, is playing the violin beautifully and you can't even focus on that because Yunho keeps sighing like he doesn't want to be here.

Now, you know he must definitely would rather be doing anything else but, like you told him before, he agreed to this so he has to start fucking owning it.

Leaning in, you curl your lips up in feign sweetness and discreetly place your hand over his leg “You need to stop that before someone notices it.”

Head snapping back at you, he leans in as well and blinks a few times “How would anyone not—”

“They will,” you assure him, smile never leaving your lips and you hear as the people around you start to clap their hands for the end of the performance “Now clap and hold your breath because my mother has been itching to get on that stage.”

Leaning back, you get to clap for a few seconds before the commotion dies down and then, just as you predicted, your mom gets on the stage.

You don't even turn to see Yunho’s reaction at all but you do hear him clapping for your mom once everyone starts clapping too.

“What an spectacular opening act that was,” she points to the various musicians that filled that half hour of snobbery and you try to repress how much you want to cringe at that. Your mother never really cared for the arts at all “I want to thank you all for attending…”

Her voice fades into the background as you zone out, like you always do. The way of coping with the long, long events you're forced to attend to has always been zoning out and letting your body do the work for you.

You clap, you smile, you bow and react accordingly like a robot that has been programmed to do so. Like an extra in a movie who gains the attention of the audience because someone always comments on your appearance, your posture or a specific expression you made at a random moment of the evening.

Magazines, papers and social media users who don't have anything better to do are always that audience you strike to appeal to. That has always been your job, that's why your mom is using you to try and restore the image of Jeong Tech, too.

The people outside of the tinsel circle love you, the people inside of it pretend to love you and everyone gets their end of the deal at your expense.

You feel kind of bad that Yunho got to experience life outside of it and now it's being dragged by his mother to the eye of the hurricane, where everything it's mostly silent until it's not. There’s this question on the tip of your tongue, this curiosity nagging at you since earlier today.

After witnessing the hurt on his face and the indifference to his feelings displayed by his mother, you can only come to the conclusion you got their relationship wrong all these years.

The safe detachment you felt for him is suddenly teetering the dangerous line of interest you’ve always drawn in between you and it’s enough for you to feel bad when you turn to see him and catch him forcing a soft smile that, to everyone else, might seem genuine.

But you know him better than that. At least, you know his mannerisms well enough to not be fooled by it. Even if you didn’t know his true feelings about tonight, about what’s about to happen now that you hear your mother utter your dad’s name to introduce him and bring him to the podium, you wouldn’t be fooled by it.

There’s another round of applause for your father that you barely follow because, you suddenly notice, you’ve been a little too entranced by Yunho for a few seconds too long. Turning to the man who’s partly responsible for your headache tonight, you catch his speech exactly where you’re supposed to.

“... And thanks to them, we’re positioned in a place where we can help new companies navigate and grow in a market that’s typically eager to chew and spit them out. When I first came up with the idea of Kim Innovation, there was one man who stood beside me as I presented it to the board. My best friend and someone who, barely a few years later, came up with the idea of revolutionizing the tech industry as a whole, please welcome…”

Sometimes, you wonder if your dad loves Yunho’s dad more than he ever loved you, your brother or your mom. Turning to Soohyun, he sends you a smile and a look that hints to you that he’s probably thinking the same thing. It takes a lot for you to not giggle but the smile that curves the corners of your lips is somewhat genuine for the first time since you sat down.

Hell, for the first time today.

There’s cheers on a closeby table and you don’t have to turn to know it’s Yunho’s mom. She might truly love that man, which is a lot considering they did to her what she’s doing to her son.

Arranged and married off. You never considered actually falling in love before but falling in love with the man who was cherry picked for you sounds like an actual nightmare.

Thank God that’s not a possibility when it comes to Yunho.

Again, your selective hearing works wonders because you are able to straighten your spine and prepare for the part of the speech that actually matters to you: “... And now we’re even blessed with the chances of our family remaining bonded forever. I’m sure you all noticed our youngest walking in together, huh?” The room makes an amused noise and you shake your head at your dad, pretending to be playfully ashamed by the call out “It’s impossible not to when they look so good together. We wanted to let everyone know tonight instead of announcing it through a notice or the press. But I'm blessed to call Jeong Yunho, the future of blockchain engineering and cybersecurity at Jeong Tech, my son in law. Yunho, you have always been like a son to me, so I trust you to take care of my dear daughter’s heart long enough to see my dreams of officially bringing our families together come to life.”

You want to gag at the thought. You want to cry and scream and beg everyone to see right through this lie but everyone erupts in cheers for the fake relationship you’re officially in so the only thing you can do is force yourself to think about something that makes you blush and turn to Yunho to pretend you’re moved by your father’s words.

Only to find him already staring at you with the same artificial emotion. There’s an understanding in his eyes that you think might show on yours as well and he hesitates a little before grabbing your hand in his hand over the table, visible for everyone.

Your heart doesn’t skip a beat, your stomach doesn’t flutter with butterflies but instead drops at the oh’s, ah’s and aw’s you hear around you. When his father takes the microphone from your father’s hands and you’re sure the image of you both is no longer on the screen placed above the stage, you lower your hands under the cloth.

He squeezes yours before harshly letting go and you open and close your palm to get a grip on yourself so you can endure the rest of the speeches with a smile.

Your brother and Yunho’s brother take the stage for what it feels like another fifteen minutes and after that they announce that dinner is about to be served in five and to enjoy the rest of the gala and the music and the acts for the rest of the night as they step down, so you take the opportunity to get up.

Looking at you like a child that’s about to be abandoned at the grocery store line, Yunho gets up as well “Where are you going?”

“To get a drink,” you return immediately with a kind smile that’s far from honest and lean in a little for only him to hear you “Notice how the only thing they’ve been bringing us is water? That’s my mom’s doing,” taking a few steps into the drink table, you turn to him over your shoulder and speak a little louder this time “Want anything, babe?”

It looks like it takes a lot from him to not grimace at the nickname and you internally laugh but your fun dies as soon as he takes your hand and pulls you to the table himself “I’m coming with you, there’s an old lady that has been staring at me for the past twenty minutes and I’m scared.”

Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden physical intimacy you both are displaying, it takes a few bits for you to answer. At the table, you grab a champagne flute and try to have some self control but end up downing half in one gulp “Ah, grandma Park. You might know her granddaughter Sooyoung,” looking at him, he stops sipping at the own flute he got ahold of and shakes his head. You sigh in disappointment, now that no one is close enough to hear you “Of course you don’t. She’s pretty and one of the only genuine girls I know. I can get you her number after this whole sham is done.”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to play cupid for me. In fact, I don’t want to hear from you once we break up,” he nudges you softly with his arm and the look you send in his direction makes him groan a little. You both know there’s not a chance in hell of that happening but wishful thinking never hurt anyone “You know, I—”

A voice behind you both interrupts him and you close your eyes tightly when you recognize it right away.

“Well if it isn’t the it couple of the month,” as you turn, the Hwang siblings smile at you with what you can only recognize as mischievous delight. Yeji is exclusively staring at Yunho and Hyunjin’s eyes move from your date to you before he chuckles like he knows something no one else does “I couldn’t say I saw it coming but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless, wasn’t it, Yeji?”

His sister ignores him.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I know Y/N, of course, who doesn’t,” she giggles and your smile tenses a bit, so you hide it behind your glass and gulp the other half of the flute down “But we’ve been missing each other a lot, mister Jeong.”

“It seems like you know him well enough,” you half-heartedly joke and her brother smiles at you with a complicity you don’t really want “Yunho, this is Hwang Yeji and this is her brother, Hwang Hyunjin. I am sure you know their father, he owns HW Records.”

“Yes, of course. Huge fan of his artists,” he says with such kindness you might actually start to believe him and then he bows a little “It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine!” Yeji returns brightly and batting her fake lashes. She’s so pretty, you think, but that doesn’t really work in your favor when it’s blatantly obvious she’s flirting with who is supposed to be your boyfriend.

Yunho notices it too, because his hand moves to your back and he takes a step closer to you.

Hyunjin’s brow arches a bit as he takes his actions in and then there’s that glint in his eyes, the one you see on mean people when they secure a target to bother for the day. Because that’s exactly what he intends to do “I have to say, Y/N, I didn’t think you had a taste for… Humble men.”

Without outright saying it, you know he’s challenging you. He’s testing whatever you have with Yunho because he’s a smart, privileged and cunning little shit and, as soon as he sees a crack on the foundation of your lie, he’s going to run his mouth.

You can’t let that happen. Knowing he suspects something else is going on pisses you off because it means you’re not doing something right and you hate losing.

Pretending you're confused, you furrow your brows a bit before chuckling “Is that not something to look for in a partner?”

“I was never expecting you to come public with a relationship in the first place,” he says, hands behind his back and not-so-innocent smile on his lips. Then, he looks Yunho up and down with squinted eyes “But I was certainly not expecting you to come forward with someone who chooses public education over private, for example. Should I take this as a hint that you're furthering your education in a private school, Yunho?”

He's trying to strike a nerve and you pray Yunho is smart enough to catch him in the act. Turning to him, your smile doesn't waver as you wait for his answer.

Taking a deep breath, he lets it out while he answers, forcing himself to smile “It’s not in my plans, no.”

“But Y/N did… It just doesn't really make any sense, does it, Yeji?”

Snapping out of whatever spell Yunho's presence got her in, she shrugs “No, it doesn't. Private schools are better and you don't mingle with people whose connections are useless for your future.”

Immediately, you can tell that's what their parents told her. An easy way to fool the dummy into perpetuating their status. It's pitiful and, quite honestly, infuriating.

“Useless for your future,” her brother repeats with a nod “That's an interesting way of putting it, isn't it? Kind, even,” they both nod and you swear your eye twitches a little “Really, Y/N, I have to give it to you. You always end up surprising me one way or another.”

Yeji joins right after “You have a lot of status, girl! It's really inspiring that you can overlook such a big difference in your relationship,” she says, like she's not trying to jump Yunho’s bones “I'm cheering for you guys!”

That does it. Is not the blatant classism or the fact that they are deliberately trying to get under your skin but it is the fact that neither of them has any actual indication your relationship with Yunho is fake. Meaning, they're trying to mess with your family intentionally.

Because you might hate Yunho as much as he hates you but he's still, somewhat, family.

“The last time I checked Yunho is the son of the owner of one—If not! The best cyber security company in the country,” you start, kind tone slipping right through the cracks and you hope they take it as a I had enough of you making fun of my man instead of what it truly is “A company he's going to work for if he wants to because you got, what?” you turn to Yunho, who's staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face “Two, three badges and one trailblazer award already? For that program you helped develop your second year?” he nods and your smile comes back when you turn to the siblings “And he hasn't even graduated yet! But I'm sure you didn't know that, did you?”

Yeji blinks like you just spoke in a foreign language and Hyunjin’s smugness has disappeared completely.

“You didn't know it because he's humble enough to not parade around like he owns the place, which… He kind of does,” it's your turn to shrug before turning around and placing the flute down back on the table “Oh! By the way, Hyunjin, I heard you placed second on that competition last month,” pouting you make a show of truly pretending you're sorry for him “That really shows us that it doesn't really matter if you go to a private music school or that your dad is a great producer, we can't always come on top, hm?”

It's a petty and middle-schooled argument but you simply don't care. If people target Yunho, they're now targeting you as well.

And you can't stand when people like them try to stomp you to the ground.

Hyunjin is about to retaliate but you turn to Yunho quickly, a different glint in his eyes now “Dinner is late, isn't it? Well, we better take the opportunity and go for that dance you promised me, babe,” seemingly tongue-tied, he only manages to nod “It was lovely to talk to you two, as usual.”

When you drag Yunho to the dancefloor, where there's only a few old couples you recognize and he probably doesn't, it feels like you can breathe a little bit more.

If you're being honest with yourself, you would really like to scream and pierce a hole through a wall with your fist. Your chest isn't heaving but the sensation it normally brings spreads around your body and it takes over as you secure your arms around Yunho’s neck and start swaying to the sound of an… Ed Sheeran cover? You're not really sure, you're not paying that much attention either.

“I swear I could kill them,” you mutter under your breath and that finally jolts your dance partner back to reality, because he looks at you like he can't believe you defended him and holds your waist softly, at a safe distance, a little unsure on why you brought him to dance “They're so useless, living off their daddy’s money and gloating.”

Yunho chuckles “I think you might hate them more than me.”

Squinting your eyes at him, his joke does little to quiet down your anger “Don't be jealous, Yunho, you still hold the first place for most annoying human being in my heart.”

He doesn't seem to mind the insult “You didn't have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Go off on them because they were trying to bring me down,” he whispers “Or bring me to the dancefloor, either, we could've just walked off, I mean… You're not good at this.”

“We went to the same ballroom classes, Yunho, we've danced before,” you remind him, rolling your eyes a bit “And I had to defend you because you weren't saying anything back.”

“Because I don't really care what they think, Y/N,” he explains softly and you gulp as your eyes roam around his face. You prefer when he's screaming at you, insulting you even. This soft, fake mask he puts on whenever he's in public makes you forget who he truly is: the annoying kid who played with worms on your first playdate “And you shouldn't, either. They were clearly trying to pick up a fight.”

“No, they weren't,” you hate that your experience in these types of situations is shining so much but Yunho seems clueless even if he just firsthand experienced what you tend to experience with the circle you move in “They weren't picking a fight, they were trying to catch us in a lie.”

“How would they know we're lying, Y/N?” he sounds a little exasperated as he steps softly to the beat, moving you with him.

“Because they know how this world works. Not your world, not your friends' world, but my world.”

“Your world it's the same exact one as mine,” he counters quickly, getting a little annoyed judging by his tone “There's truly not much of a difference—”

“I'm glad that at least you got to experience what ninety nine percent of the world's population experiences, Yunho, but you got away from it and forgot everything about what goes on in here,” moving your head carefully, you signal to the gala and the attendees “I need you to remember highschool and everything that you lived there: The falseness, the appearances and the cliques. The importance of money and grades and education, of connections… It all matters here.”

You shouldn't be instructing him. That's not really part of the deal and, at first, you thought he was faking aloofness out of spite. Now that he seems as confused as a free spirit being trapped in a glass bottle and put out for display, you feel the need to.

So he doesn't drown you both.

“Think of it as one big highschool where the wrong decision, the wrong response can get not only you but me and our families into great trouble.”

As the song ends and everyone claps for the performer, he lets out a sigh “I hate this.”

“It's your life now,” you remind him and that sorry feeling stirs up inside you as well. You're not one to regret decisions but it does sting a little that you didn't fight more for your stance on this fake relationship. It makes you dizzy and so you take a step away from his barely there embrace as you see the food trays start to make an appearance through the doors “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll go with you.”

“To the bathroom?”

“I don't want to—”

Sighing, you step closer again and bring your hand to his cheek, thumb caressing the skin there roughly and plastic smile on your lips “Go and bother our brothers. I'm not fucking babysitting you, Yunho, you were born first so you're technically older than me.”

He pouts for a second and you pinch the skin on his cheek condescendingly. When he notices, his jaw clenches and you smile in victory.

“Witch.”

“Grown ass baby.”

You hear him mumble a whatever under his breath when you turn around and head to the bathroom to get yourself together and hopefully get through the rest of the night without any newfound and unnecessary drama.

Locked in a stall, you make sure to delete all social media apps. With the speech your dad gave tonight, there will be more speculation now than ever. You can already see the headlines and it draws a sigh out of you because, well, you hate the press as much as the next nepotism baby out there but, most importantly, you hate that the media reads your character wrong.

No, not wrong. The press usually gets the manufactured part of your personality, one that has become a part of you after all these years of perfecting it. People on social media, though? They read you wrong.

You hate being misinterpreted. Your mom once said that it was a blessing because then the people who actually know who you are will be the ones closest to you.

And that's yet to be seen.

If the earlier encounter with the Hwangs gives away anything, is the fact that you don't actually get to be yourself around anyone ever.

Except your brother.

And Yunho.

The thought of Yunho being one of the few people who know you the best brings a shiver down your spine for the second time today.

Yunho?!

You should consider making actual friends. That's so sad.

Not sadder than the way you freeze when you stand up and try to reach for the stall lock. Voices echo through the bathroom and it only takes you a quick second to realize who it is.

“Yeah, I genuinely don't know who the fuck she think she is,” Yeji’s voice is not the sweet, dumb and whiny tone you are unfortunately forced to hear everytime you speak with her and it would startle you more if it weren't for the fact that she's talking shit about you on the phone “And she probably gets to kiss him tonight and every night from here on out. They were dancing together… In matching outfits! Girl, I know,” she complains, groaning a bit “Like I haven't been thirsting over Yunho’s fine ass for years.”

Wanting to smack some sense into her again, you move your hand on the lock but she goes on with her babbling and that makes you stop again.

“There’s absolutely no way they'll last. Not privately, at least. Have you seen her lately?” she scoffs and you hear something move, like makeup in a bag and you assume she's reapplying her lip gloss or something because you can barely hear what she says next.

And you really, really wish you hadn't.

“She can barely fit in that tight dress, the hair is getting old too. She's bo-ring,” breath getting caught in your throat, you look down on your dress and suddenly you can see on yourself what you normally see on the mirror “I don't know how but I'm totally getting his number tonight and when he gets to know me that's when he'll realize she's nothing but a kind-of-pretty face and money,” she giggles “I have to go back… Yup, love you, bye!”

Heels clacking against the polished tiles of this pristine bathroom, you listen carefully until the door closes again and let out the shaky breath you've been holding in.

What's sadder than Hwang fucking Yeji having a friend she can call to gossip in the middle of a function while you don't?

Hwang fucking Yeji being able to cut through you with her words.

Getting out of the stall, you make quick work of washing your hands and avoiding the mirror while you do it. You get out, the sound of cutlery softly hitting plates and fine conversation leaking through the main door that leads you back to the gala it's enough to make you gag a little.

Like actually gag, the smell of food on top of passing by trays makes you gag. There's a waiter to your left with a tray full of champagne flutes, so you stop her with a genuine kind smile and take two from her. Thanking her, you turn to the door again and make sure nobody is looking in your direction.

You need to get yourself together, so you make your run for it. Passing the main door in a dash, you walk up the stairs that surely would lead you to a room.

You've been in this venue many times so the halls are familiar and the room you're aiming to is unlocked and with its lights on, like it's been waiting for you to find comfort in the mild emptiness of it.

There's a big floor to ceiling arched window with white curtains drawn and a sill wide enough to be converted into a reading nook if someone from your circle actually cared to read and not gossip at an event like this.

There's a table in the middle with a lovely white cloth covering the surface and a vase in the center of it. You never had a favorite flower, but foxtail orchids are beautiful and the pop of color they bring to every space usually brings you some sort of joy before you remember the significance of them.

Love, beauty and strength.

Three things you ardently wish you had but seem to lack.

Luxury is usually attached to the meaning, fertility as well but the main significance of it does nothing but replay Yeji’s words in your head and you can't even enjoy the fucking flowers as you should right now.

Moving to sit by the window, on its sill and with your back against the white fabric and the glass, you let your eyes close as you try and remind yourself the reason this event took place. Who you are, what you mean to the people downstairs and the duty you have to fulfill tonight all blend together into a big mush of junk inside your head and all you can see it's the flashes of the paparazzis and how awful you're going to look on those goddamn photos.

Being mugged down by Jeong Yunho of all people. Fucking great.

Circling back to him, your mind lands on the same thought you had before Yeji barged into the bathroom. Yunho knows you.

Hell, he might've been your only actual friend. Even for a day, that first playdate in his backyard, but he probably was your first and only friend even if it ended before you two could make proper good memories together.

That's so sad.

Again, you should consider making actual friends. But yet again, you have to admit to yourself that there's no one that can understand you better than him and even then…

He would never get it. He has a solid foundation, a bed he can fall onto at the end of the day, full with love, comprehension and genuine laughter, probably.

You've been giving him shit all day for forgetting the world he was born into but now, as you take in a wannabe calming breath and then sip the sorrows away, you kind of wish you two would get along.

Would he introduce you to his friends if you two actually liked each other? Not romantically, of course (because that's never going to happen), but would he, if you two were friends to begin with? Would you be accepted into their group? Would they make you feel an ounce loved and supported? Is that what Yunho feels when he's with them?

What do they make him feel, exactly?

“Ugh.”

The alcohol is making you sappy instead of angrier. You should be angry. That's the only way of facing things here, in the real world, in the one you actually belong to. Instead, you just feel sad.

You take a second to wonder again how he must be feeling right now. Leaving him all alone, you hope he at least got the sense in him to attach himself to his brother's hip or yours so someone can stop the vipers from getting to him and his pride.

You know how easy it is to get his ego hurt by something so silly as insulting his choice of lifestyle, his detachment from this (to them) superior whirlwind of falseness and money.

But, yet again, he didn't even attempt to defend himself earlier. It's conflicting and it confuses you a bit because… Why didn't that side of Yunho come out? The one who's so eager to back his choices up, the one who yelled at his mother back in your living room?

Does he really don't care at all what people think of him?

Must be a blessing, to have that side of you quiet and locked away. You don't have the same luck as him because, even now, as you chug the first flute down in an attempt to silence Yeji’s voice and drown out her words in your head, you know you care.

You care, you care, you care.

You care so much you try to hide the champagne behind the curtain when you hear footsteps approaching and the doorknob turns, heartbeat picking up because you definitely don't want to see your mother, your father, your brother or anyone right now.

Only to reveal the current subject of your obsessive mind, with a plate on his hand and his eyebrows furrowed before his eyes focus on your form hiding behind the table. He's tall enough to see you all the way from the door (of course he is) and your shoulders deflate as you pull your drinks from behind their white haven.

“Ah, it's just you.”

He closes the door behind him, scoffing and pointing at the second glass next to you “Were you expecting someone?”

“The grim reaper, maybe.”

“My mom? Your mom?” He asks and it's funny but you don't laugh “Well, she's looking for you.”

You straighten your back at that and take a gulp out of your flute “I've been gone ten minutes, what could possibly be so important for her to be looking for me?”

“Something about a picture with the governor's grandson?” he shrugs “I didn't pay attention to her, I was fixing you a plate.”

He offers the food and you sigh, shaking your head to reject his seemingly nice action.

“And why would you do that?” He looks annoyed when your eyes scan his form and then he uses his chin to point towards the cup next to you and then the one that you elegantly raise to your lips before emptying it.

“Is that your second or third? I don't remember how many you had at the main table earlier.”

“I can handle my alcohol pretty well, Jeong.”

Walking towards you, you take the hint and put the empty flute down on the floor, taking the second one and creating some space for him on the sill “Still, you should eat something.”

“I’m not particularly hungry right now.”

“Still…” He offers the plate again and you glance at the food in it. It’s some brown rice and chicken with steamed vegetables. It smells delicious but instead of desiring it, your physical reaction is to swallow a gag.

“I'm good.”

Scooting a little more to create more space in between you, you close your eyes again and gather some patience because the sigh he lets out tells you you're going to need it.

Nothing happens. He doesn't say anything but you do hear the clanking on the fork against the plate and peel your eyes open so you can catch him eating the food that was supposed to be for you through the corner of your eye.

It's always entertaining seeing how much of a foodie he is.

Instead, he's extending the utensil towards you with some food in it.

“I'm going to ram that piece of asparagus so far up your—”

“Okay, I give up,” the fork clanks against the plate again and he gets up momentarily to leave the plate on the table “Didn't really want to deal with your drunk ass tonight, but that's alright.”

“You've never dealt with my drunk ass because I don't get drunk around you,” you turn to him, crossing your arms. Your back is against the window frame, the way it uncomfortably digs into your spine keeps you grounded “In fact, I don't even get drunk. Ever.”

He imitates your movements “You're such a liar.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, yes you are. Do I have to remind you of our graduation party?”

“Do I have to remind you of our graduation party? I think you're projecting again.”

Especially when it was filled with drunken babbling and awkward energy, the one you can only tell is in the room by being kind-of-sober.

Yunho was definitely gone and faded, texting with someone (a friend, you remember him saying) on his phone for most of the night and then something happened with said friend (again, his words not yours) so he took your drink from your hand and a bottle from the table and made out with three boys and two girls that night.

Right in front of you.

It was traumatic, really, because you never wondered how kissing him would feel until that night.

And never again since then.

Your special power, you want to tell him, is remembering every single time Jeong Yunho looked and felt like an actual human being around you.

Like just now, for example. Getting you food and trying to feed it to you is not really something he Yunho you know would do. So…

“What's gotten into you? Pity?” cutting right to the chase, your eyes move around his face to catch any movement that might give away that you're right “Because of what you saw this afternoon?”

“Guilt. Because of what I did this afternoon,” he corrects and your eyebrow raises, his lips go into a thin line before a pout sets on it and you fix your stare on it before looking at his eyes again “You were asking me to stop yelling at you and I didn't listen.”

You hate that. This. The sudden vulnerability and the thread it's starting to knit between the two of you.

“That was going to happen regardless of you yelling or not,” you assure him, chugging the drink down and resting the flute next to the other one, on the floor “You don't have to worry about that or me.”

“Of course I worry,” the softness in his tone is sickening. The way it tugs at your icy heart strings and threatens to break your walls down it's disgusting, so you turn to him with a scowl “I worry about you running your mouth about this… relationship.”

You scoff out a chuckle “Oh, of course you suddenly worry about that,” nodding, your eyes shut closed again while a bitter and sarcastic smile curves your lips “The dirty little secret will always be safe with me, Yunho, don't pretend you don't know that. Even if you don't want to tell me the reason you came here tonight or the thing that made you not curse your mother for involving you in it, it's safe with me.”

Yunho’s voice is stern and yet it sounds like a whisper away when he speaks again “Why are you doing it?”

“Because it's my duty and I owe it to them,” you answer without missing a bit, a little matter of factly and all “What kind of question is that?”

“No, it's not—”

“Yunho, it was clearly a question—”

“No, dumbass, shut up for a second,” he lets out an exasperated breath and you look at him, very annoyed. “I'm saying that it's not really your duty.”

“Yes, it is.”

He makes a face “Not really.”

“Yes, really,” you push him with your hand on his shoulder and he barely moves “I know you're not familiar with gratefulness or anything close to that feeling but they really gave me everything I own and made me everything I am, Yunho.”

Clicking his tongue, your fake boyfriend looks disappointed at your reply “They didn't give you your brain, that's for sure,” he murmurs, shrugging “Your intelligence is all yours.”

“Well, they put me through the best schools and paid for my tuitions and tutors and programs and—”

“Acquired knowledge and connections are meaningless when you're not smart enough to know what to do with them,” he says like he can't believe you would say that out loud “And you know what to do with them, Y/N.”

Rendering you completely speechless, the only thing you manage to do is stare at him while your chest vaguely heaves and your mind twists and turns at his words. It strangely warms your heart that he thinks you can give yourself credit for your brains and, in normal circumstances, you would agree with him.

But this is Yunho and you have to say something to antagonize him, right?

“W-well, I—”

“Oh, there you are!”

Great, the grim reaper.

It's a little pathetic how quick you stand up and try to cover up the flutes on the floor. Yunho gets up as well and your mother looks delighted to find you both in a room together but you're sure it's because it serves some kind of purpose in her agenda of delusions.

“Good, you're here too. Yunho, dear, you've been splendid tonight. Did you like the suit?” your fake date nods and smiles a little and she looks satisfied with that “Good, good. I'm glad it fits you just right, not like…” her eyes land on you briefly and then go back to him “Well, not everyone has that privilege, hm?”

“I'm sorry?” he asks and his tone lets you know he's actually a little taken aback by the sudden jab (you are too, not being used to your mother doing it in front of everyone else).

It's also a little pathetic how quick you recoil when her eyes locate the plate on the table, untouched, but a plate of food is worse than ten bottles of alcohol in her eyes.

“Oh, that's why the dress looks a little tight!” she says, condescendingly “Y/N, dear, have you been eating?”

You feel it again. The stillness before the chaos, the way your body locks up in place and your mouth trembles with fury but it's unable to speak up, to tell her everything she needs to hear.

Monster. Wench of a woman masquerading as a sadistic piece of—

“I-I haven't, mother.”

“You're already wearing a somewhat tight dress, Y/N!”

“Auntie—” Yunho’s voice cuts through but she takes a few steps in his direction and ignores you completely, even if you have started to shake a little.

Feeling small, useless, helpless and humiliated, you turn to the white wall and start counting the imperfections on it. If you distract yourself, you won't have to fix your makeup later.

If you distract yourself, you won't have to hear her calling you out for “overreacting” to her words.

If you distract yourself, you save Yunho from feeling any pity towards you again. It doesn't matter if he said that's not the motivation behind his behavior tonight, you know there has to be some part of him that pities you.

Like there's some part of you that pities him, just a bit.

“Now that you are going to have to spend some time together, dear, you have to stop her from doing these sorts of things. The editors work overtime trying to hide it and even then…”

Her words, Yeji’s words, your own words that you whispered to yourself earlier today in front of the mirror, they all feel heavy on your neck, threatening to crush it under the weight.

Under your own weight.

Oh, you feel sick.

“Auntie, you can't speak to her like that.”

Yunho is not raising his voice by any means, but the tone is stern and firm and leaves no space for mistaking it as other than a warning.

Whatever that means for your mother.

“Now that you're going to have to spend some time together,” she repeats, dismissing Yunho’s warning “You're going to learn that this is the only way you can shut her up when she gets going, dear. She's a very grumpy human being, aren't you, Y/N?” you don't answer or turn and she sighs “See?”

Closing your eyes, a heavy sigh leaves you before another one follows it and soon your chest is heaving and your hyperventilating while trying to blink away the tears that gather on your eyes.

Back connecting to the wall, you look up to find Yunho staring at your mother like he discovered some part of her that's new, like he's disappointed and somehow never saw this coming but he says nothing. You also find your mother staring at you and after assessing you quickly again, she rolls her eyes and steps away.

“She’s also, apparently, very sensitive and can't take constructive criticism well,” she says and when she reaches the door, she looks at you both over her shoulder “Compose yourselves and come out. We have some pictures to take in five minutes.”

When she closes the door behind her, you release another trembling breath and Yunho practically runs towards you.

“I've never heard her talking like that to anyone, does she… Y/N, is she—” you shake your head, clearly not having the energy to explain or defend your own mother and he takes the hint immediately “I just never heard her saying anything like that.”

“You're really lucky, then.”

He quickly scans your face for something you're not sure he's going to find. You're trying to steady your breath and scare the tears away with the breathing techniques you were given in therapy.

Yunho finds whatever he's looking for anyway.

“Don’t listen to her,” he starts and, just like in the afternoon, he looks unsure of what to do with his hands, so he just raises them and lowers them before swallowing hard “You can eat everything you want and this dress would still look beautiful on you,” and his words do nothing but to raise your panic levels a little bit more. Why the hell is he complimenting you? You chest raises and falls a little harder now, your heart beats a little quicker and you whimper a little “Oh, fuck, no, I'm sorry I didn't mean… I did mean it, actually.”

“Huh?!”

“To tell you that you look beautiful! Because you do and— Fuck, princess, please don't cry, it's not worth it” he whispers the last bit when cover your eyes with your hands softly and you nod, trying to assure him you won't without saying a word “Did you bring the—”

Did you promise you were going to bring them? You don't even remember. If you did, you wonder what makes him think you would follow through with that silly promise, considering you're trying to cover your issues up in the first place.

“No, I didn't. I can't just pop them whenever I feel like crying, Yunho, they're only p-preventative,” you mumble but the question is enough to distract you, to ground you. The only thought passing through you being: don’t let them know. Don't let it show. Don't become carnage for them to pick apart and consume even more “I've been drinking, too, it's not safe to take them.”

The stillness of the room when you both shut up is what allows you to come up to the surface after almost drowning in your panic. Your breathing steadies, your heart only pounds a little faster when you feel hands on top of yours and soft fingertips caressing the skin of them when they bring them down.

Opening your eyes to find Yunho staring at you it's not unexpected, the cautious way he regards you is. You can't even bring yourself to break eye contact with him because he did, after all, just tried to help you.

Again.

And God knows you don't own Jeong Yunho absolutely anything but you can try and not bark at him when he slowly inspects your face, pupils coming and going like he's trying to read you even more.

He seems to ignore that this, and the way he saw you earlier today, is as vulnerable as you can get.

“You know what? Fuck this.”

“What?”

“Fuck this. We're leaving.”

Next thing you know, your mind catches onto your body's movements when he already dragged you to the hallway and to the top of the stairs “Yunho, we can't.”

He takes a few steps down and you follow, a little irritated.

“Fuck this and what they want from us, Y/N.”

“I can't.”

He pauses and turns to you, you take the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and raise your chin a little. From this position, you're taller than him but not for much, especially not when he climbs up a step back.

“You're seriously going back out there after all the shit your mother just gave you?”

“Yes,” you answer right away and you can visibly tell that he's pissed at you. Only this time, it comes with zero gratification for your pride. “You're free to leave and do whatever you want but I have a responsibility with my family that I can't just walk out of.”

“But—”

“But what, Yunho?” shoulders deflating and arms dropping to your sides, it feels like you're never going to get yourself, your reasons, through his thick skull “What are we going to do if we get out of here now, hm? Get in a car, go for some fast food? End up on a rooftop somewhere or a park or whatever spot you think is cool and calm to reflect on our shitty families, Yunho?”

He doesn't say anything but the tick of his jaw it's indicative of how your words are hitting him. You're glad and not out if pure pettiness or spite, for once.

“And then you expect me to magically renounce everything I have, everything I am, because you have a little revolutionary anti chaebol spirit inside of you?” you scoff, leaning in a fraction “This is not a movie, Yunho. I'm not a damsel in distress, I don't need you to tell me how awful my mother is or to save me from her. Now,” you lean back and then take the steps down “I'm going in there, I'm taking the stupid pictures she wants me to take and, if you're planning on staying, I'll leave with you when all of our parent's friends are drunk enough that they don't notice us leaving.”

You look back up at him and he closes his eyes, indecisiveness written all over his expression.

And that's, probably, the biggest difference between you both.

But you feel some sort of safety when he opens them up again: There, pissed and all, is the image of the Yunho you know.

And that’s exactly who you need tonight.

“Please don't leave that plate of food up there,” you mumble and he's about to say something else when you interrupt him “I don't want to eat it, I just want you to go back up there so I can go inside first. The last thing I want is for people to think that I'm so in love that I lost all of my decorum in a staff closet or something.”

It takes him a second, but words come out of his mouth and under his breath “Ew.”

Your eyes almost meet the back of your head at that.

“You wish, Jeong.”

You take the rest of the steps down and then take a huge breath before stepping back into the gala.

The first thing you do is look for another drink.

And drink you do.

You only notice Yunho didn't leave after his brief debauchery of anarchy when you feel his presence next to you, his hand on yours or your arm or your hip the rest of the night (as fake as it feels, it’s a good facade for everyone who’s playing close attention so you welcome the fact that he’s not pissed enough to blown your cover off with a tiny bit of gratefulness), especially when Yeji gets too close or attempts to initiate a conversation.

You hate that your chest swells with victory when you see her face fall after the last attempt to steal your fake boyfriend.

But you don't really notice if she puts more effort into doing it. After a particular coctel, you're left dizzy enough that the rest of the night passes in a blur and you're operating in autopilot by the time Yunho leans in and whispers that he's taking you home.

Why is Yunho taking you home out of all people?

Well he's not, not really. He’s not driving you anywhere. In fact, he’s making you freeze as he waits for something, hands on his hips and everything.

“Where's your driver?”

He looks around the empty street, waiting for the car that brought you two to the gala to appear and you drunkenly giggle, back against the brick wall “Home with his family, I hope.”

“So who's driving us?”

“The helicopter, it's parked on the roof.”

He turns to you “The what?”

“I'm getting an uber, Yunho. Get yours.”

“I said, I'm taking you home.”

“Did you?” you frown as you look through the apps on your phone until you find the one you need. Quickly typing the name of the place hosting the event, it takes a few clicks till it lets you know they're finding a driver for you “I don't remember you saying that. I remember you stuttering in front of grandma Park when she called you handsome,” you lock your phone and look back up at him “Oh and you blushed just like that, too. You look so dumb.”

Defensively, he stutters out “I'm not blushing.”

You giggle again and point at his silly, stupid, concerned face “Yes, you are,” a notification makes your phone light up “My car is a minute away.”

“Our car.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, “you're a pain in the ass.”

“And you're drunk!” He points out and you roll your eyes “I despise you princess, truly, now more than ever, but it's against my principles.”

You scoff, loudly and then laugh at him, at his words, at his mask “You can stop pretending now, Jeong. I don't buy it like everyone else does- Oh, the car.”

As the uber comes to a stop, you manage to not stumble your way to it and to ignore Yunho’s hands (open and willing to catch you in case you fall) because you certainly don’t need his help. He should know it by now. He shouldn’t even open the door for you, but here he is, ever the gentleman in front of everyone else and a total ass behind closed doors.

Although today…

No. Pushing the thought aside, you ironically bow to “thank him” for his kindness.

“Buy what exactly?” He asks before you can get in.

The door is open now, yellow light on both yours and Yunho’s faces, and the driver is trying to conceal (very badly) the fact that he’s paying attention to your conversation, so you put on a smile and shrug to dismiss his question “I’ll tell you later, dear. Thanks for walking me to the car,” his confused expression makes you want to giggle again, but you save it “Text me when you get home, hm?”

Before he can argue with you some more, you get into the car and welcome the warmth radiating from the leather seat before attempting to close the door.

Only for it to be pulled open again “Move,” he says a little harshly and then looks at the drive “m-my love.”

Oh, he’s so bad at this.

But he doesn’t really leave room to kick him out of your uber when he forces his way in “Good evening.” He says to the driver and smiles at the man behind the steering wheel as well before the door closes and the car is surrounded by darkness again.

Hands grasping the seat and Yunho’s arm, you think maybe you should've listened to him when he told you to eat something. The world spins a little when the car starts moving and it really takes everything in you, for the first time ever, to pull away from Yunho’s firm arm and make space in between you like you always do.

There’s silence at last. Until there isn’t.

Your mind it’s never truly quiet, is it?

Dizzy and everything, you start planning the rest of your night and the next day. You don’t have to go into the office, so you can take care of everything at home. Okay, cool. There’s this thing you need to talk to HR about and also you need to schedule the lunches you’re bringing to the orphanage. What day is it? Ah, right, you still have a few more days to make everything pretty for the children. Is Yunho on your schedule for the week? You forgot to check, you forgot to ask. The calendar should be updated by now, considering your mom’s main assistant was not at the event tonight and that means she’s working overtime tonight. Probably making sure there’s no wrong headlines on the immediate news outlets and curating the comments on the instagram posts and—

“Whatcha' thinkin' about?”

Silence again.

Only this time, it’s because you notice Yunho’s fingers on your arm and your head snaps towards him so fast it makes you dizzier.

Nothing you care about, you want to tell him. Nothing important, nothing that would make an actual impact and close the bridge between you and him enough for him to be handling you with some much care for the umphtenth time today.

“I’m just really tired,” you say instead and, for once, you’re not lying or deflecting. You’re so fucking tired “I didn’t sleep last night. I was working on something.” Again, not a lie, even though you were working on ways of preventing this entire day from happening.

“Well, we’re a few minutes away.”

“I’m a few minutes away.” You correct in a whisper which makes him giggle under his breath and that prompts you to stare bitterly at him.

You don’t ask him what the fuck is so funny but you find out once you reach the gate of your house. Not waiting for him to get down and open the door for you (because you don’t expect him to get down with you at all), you bid your goodbye to the driver -not Yunho- and get out of the car so fast it feels like someone pressed the fast forward button on you. You’re more sober now than what you were at the start of the car ride but it still proves difficult to slide the panel of your front door up and let it read your thumb print to gain access.

“Stupid fucking thing.” You say in a distracted murmur when it wont read the print and almost let out a scream when someone grabs your opposite thumb and raises it to the panel.

It reads right away and you turn to Yunho with a scowl on your face “I hate you.”

“My brother designed this thing before Jeong Tech moved on to cybersecurity exclusively,” he reminds you “Careful with what you say about it.”

Looking at the street, you find it empty again “Walking home or what?”

“Stop pretending to not know I’m going to help you in, Y/N.”

“I don’t need your help!”

He looks at the thumb he’s still grabbing and the back at you before raising a brow “Sure.”

Groaning, you take your thumb back to open the gate. You don’t even attempt to close it on his face but you don’t wait for him as you speedrun your front garden and, when you get up the stairs to your front door, it opens on its own.

Well, not on its own. There’s a staff member smiling kindly at you. She’s one of the new ones, the young ones (younger than you, even) who won’t even tell you their names at your mothers petition, so you usually don’t insist on it because it causes them stress. You shake your head “Did she make you stay up late tonight?”

“Yes, miss Kim. She instructed me to stay the night in case either you, mister Kim or her needed some help.”

“Help with what?” you say with a tint of annoyance in your tone and you see her bow instinctively at Yunho, who you presume is right behind you now and she offers her hands immediately to take his coat from him but you wave yours so she can stop “Please, go to your room and sleep. If she gets angry because she doesn’t find anyone to help her undress tonight, I’ll deal with it.”

“But… Miss Kim, your guest—”

“Mister Jeong Yunho,” you don’t turn to him but you guess he bowed to her again because she hurriedly does the same “He’s not staying for long,” you hope. “Please go and get some sleep, dear.”

She hesitates and your face softens at the slight panic you recognize in her eyes very, very well.

“I’ll deal with her,” you promise with a genuine smile tugging at your lips “Now, go.”

Obeying, she bows deeply at both of you before smiling back at you for a split second before disappearing through the staff aisle. There’s not many staff who stay in the property after hours and the ones that do usually stay when your parents need them but you find it quite annoying.

Not for you but because you’re grown people. There’s not many things the staff do for you besides your breakfast every morning and your clothes -because you couldn’t convince your mom to let you do it yourself- but for her? For your dad? They do almost everything.

At their grown age. Ugh.

Getting into the house, you slip your high heels off and you hear the door closing and some shuffling, letting you know Yunho is doing the same.

“You’re not welcomed here, Jeong, please go away.”

“Shut up and look at your phone, will you?”

“Hm?”

Unlocking it, it’s immediately floated with messages from a new group chat that consists of Yunho, his brother, your brother and you.

The texts are very clearly written by two drunk idiots (your brothers) and one sober idiot (Yunho) and there’s even a selfie taken in the very same room Yunho found you in earlier today. Frowning, you move to the last texts.

kim soohyun: mjom and dad 4nd mom and dad are going home to have a little after party in like an horu hbtw gunho oppa ♡︎: so wer’e going otoo! hehe. stay in your room y/n if u don’t eant to deal with yaunti she’s a lil hdrunkies kim soohyun: mhm but n o funnhy business kim soohyun: oh wait kim soohyun: you’re anot actually ua thing hahahahaha @yn u loser

Oh you’re going to kill him. Both of them. The three of them, actually, now that Yunho takes the opportunity to send a laughing emoji at what your brother said and when you look up at him, he’s giggling again.

“What the actual fuck.”

“He’s funny!” He defends himself right away and you groan before heading for the stairs. The texts and the fact there’s going to be some sort of movement on the house when it’s supposed to be cold, empty and, most importantly, in total silence, it’s enough to sober you up.

“This is the worst day of my life.”

Yunho does not follow you. But this house, at this point and with him disregarding your wishes of exiling him out of your life, is as much his as it is yours, so you just let him be downstairs while the darkness of your room engulfs you. You move like that, with the street lights and the moonlight leaking through the big balcony window and toss your purse and phone on the bed.

Getting your accessories off, they clink and clank on your vanity by door and breathe a little more calmly now that the weight of them is not on you. Slowly, but surely, the stress and sensory overstimulation of the night makes it way off you as well.

It’s not only until you get to the zipper of your dress that you remember why you needed someone to get you into the dress in the first place. It’s stuck, per se, but you can’t really reach it no matter how much you bend and twist and there’s some noise downstairs that it’s making your eye twitch a little bit. Maybe what’s making it is the ice machine built in on the fridge but you also hear some pans and you find it hilarious that Yunho, out of everyone, is the first non-contractually obligated person to touch the kitchen in years.

Losing the battle against the zipper and sweating a little bit, the last wave of dizziness from all the drinks you had comes in and so you lower yourself to the floor, near the balcony door and just close your eyes.

Now that you're home, the lack of sleep really gets to you. It feels like ten minutes or ten hours simultaneously when someone turns on the light in your room and the sudden intrusion of it burns you a bit when you open your eyes and stare at the ceiling.

Yunho scoffs from your door and you hear your foodsteps approach until he’s on your line of vision, eyebrows creasing at the sight of him “You’re so fucking weird, I swear.”

You mumble your jab out “Yeah, laying on the floor in the dark after an exhausting day of dealing with your presence it’s not as weird as it sounds, buddy.”

He ignores you.

“Made you some food.”

Suspicious. Slowly, you sit up. There’s a tray on your vanity with bowls and glasses of water and you want to yell at him for putting it there in the first place but the smell of buldak invades your nostrils and your stomach grumbles in response.

You didn't even know you had buldak anywhere in this house. Weird.

“Is it poisoned?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs “why don’t you find out?”

Your stomach grumbles again, begging. Your heart races as you glance at the tray again, anxious. Your rotten mind makes you delay your words, already telling you you’re going to regret it.

But you’re so hungry.

“Did you put cheese on it?”

Yunho is sitting at the edge of your bed now, manspreading and with his elbows on his legs, his hands in between them. This coat is off now, you don’t really know where he left it at but it’s gone and his hair it’s not perfect anymore, like he ran his hand through it a couple of times. He smiles a little at you when he answers, low and teasing, like he can’t believe you asked him that “Obviously.”

You wish you could convince yourself that the gulp you just did it’s due to your sudden appetite. And it kind of is. But the truth of the matter is that the ramen had nothing to do with it.

He looks good like this. He doesn’t necessarily looks like the manchild you know and even if it irks you a little that he insists of taking care of you with this little, insignificant detail (after all, he’s going to get out of your life and your complicated relationship with food will endure till the end of times), you can’t really deny the sudden blush it brings to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat and reaching behind you to open the balcony door, you point to the tray with your chin “Alright, bring it here.”

It’s truly a shame you can read it in his face that he’s counting this as some sort of victory and, if it were anyone else, you would hate to disappoint them when they inevitably notice further on that this effort of correcting your nasty habits are futile as long as your living with the source of the issue under the same roof. But since it’s Yunho, you don’t really care.

You don't care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

The way your heart squeezes and you feel like crying when he intently watches the first bite you take out of the noodles it’s nothing, it’s just your emotions getting mixed in with the spicy taste of them and the cheese and the way your stomach finally gets some sort of relief after being partially empty the entire day.

You don’t care that he made a little bowl for himself as well. And you definitely don’t care that he’s sitting beside you, eating his food and occasionally glancing at you to check your reaction and you hate him for it.

It triggers the part of you that doesn’t really know how to behave, the same part who thought of him fondly this afternoon when he wiped your tears away and calmed your nerves. When brought you food upstairs at the gala, when he brushed his fingers against your arm in the car, when he helped you in.

When you saw his expression after his mom yelled at him. When he got upset after your mom yelled at you.

It's like you can see it: the knitting needle moving faster than ever, interspersing your lives even more and in the worst way possible, the only way you don't want it to happen is because it's unexpected and you haven’t prepared for it, because it's unnecessary.

The way your heart is beating for him right now is totally unnecessary.

“What?” He asks when he notices you staring “I know it’s not that bad, princess, I live in a dorm most days of the week,” he adds, laughing a little and you look down at your noodles again, halfway done “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s ramen.”

“We had this or did you bring it with you?” Stupid question but right now you need to distract yourself from your sudden burst of feelings and vulnerability.

He looks at you like you’re a weirdo, again “And kept it where?”

“In that birdnest you call hair, for example.”

“Okay, you know what—” he stops when he hears you laugh and drops his argument alongside his chopsticks, only to laugh a little as well “Smartass.”

“I’m just hilarious, dude,” you say, shrugging it off like you’re humble or something “Where do you think Soohyun got it from?”

“Definitely not you.”

“Tsk,” you shake your head “you have no humor. I don’t know how mister Park stands you.”

That seems to bring the memory back. Assuming he forgot because you both had better things to focus on, he brings his palm to his head rather harshly and you cringe at the sound it makes.

“Right! How do you fucking know him, Y/N? I thought you only knew Yeo.”

“Who?”

“Yeosang,” at your furrowed brow, he turns a little in your direction and sighs “The guy I was with that one time you saw me at the bowling alley, like a year or so ago I think.”

Oh, that guy you totally didn’t remember existed until now. Barely remembering that day, you recall it was one of those days you went along with the plans your classmates had at the time. A bowling alley? A public bowling alley? It seemed like such a normal endeavor until you spotted Yunho at the entryway talking with, you assumed at the time and confirmed now, his friend.

When he saw you and barely raised his hand to wave at you, you remember the feeling of embarrassment washing over your and your cheeks turning red and then excusing yourself and leaving the scene immediately, like you were caught red-handed enjoying shit you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying.

“Ah,” you tilt your head “I forgot about that,” you obviously didn’t, but you pretend you did “I didn’t know his name, though, I didn’t say hi to you or anything.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” he shrugs it off “He asked me if you liked me that day and I asked him what gave him the impression you did,” that takes you off guard and you the noodles get caught up on your throat a little before you force them pass it and mumble out a tiny what? “Mhm, I didn’t understand either and he told me to forget it but I remember it because he didn’t even see you that well that night.”

“Maybe he’s fucking crazy,” you offer and he gives you a look “It would suit you if you friends were crazy, I’m just saying.”

“Suit me? That's crazy.”

“Did I stutter?”

“How do you know Hwa, Y/N?”

You almost ask him who that is when it clicks on his head that he’s talking about Park Seonghwa. Thinking about him, about your tiny hiccup early this morning and the acute possibility there was of him saying yes to your proposal makes you scrunch your nose in momentary resentment. Because, really, you’re glad he said no.

Yunho might not be used to this world of tinsel and fakeness anymore but he’s cut for it. Seonghwa? He didn’t look like he would last a second actually involved in it.

Good for him.

“He’s working for my brother,” you finally answer after a few seconds of staring at your noodles and sipping a bit of water and Yunho open his eyes at the new information “He’s working on his spaces and aligning his chakras or whatever Soohyun is into these days,” sighing, you think about that dumb tree he made you paint on his wall and then stare at the half finished canvas that’s facing the wall next to your vanity for a few seconds “Probably going to renovate his apartment, too. Soohyun said he’s tired of minimalism or something?”

“That definitely sounds like Hwa,” he nods and you wonder what he means by that but don’t pry “And his girlfriend?”

“The mechanic?” you ask and Yunho shrugs “He told me she was his mechanic,” you clarify before continuing “He brought his motorcycle to the building because something was wrong with it, I guess. They’re together together now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“She’s really cool,” you smile at the memory of the girl “She looks really cool, at least.”

“Yeah but he just met her.”

“And?”

“Isn’t it a little too early to call her his girlfriend?”

“How the hell would I know that?” you ask and you don’t mean to sound defensive… But you do a little bit so you clear your throat and shrug one more time and decide to joke your way out of it “Should he wait like fifteen years so that his mom forces him to be in a fake relationship with her or something?”

Yunho doesn’t laugh.

You finish your noodles in silence until he groans and you turn to him.

He stares at his phone and then closes his eyes, regretfully “God, they’ve been calling me for a few hours now.”

“They found out?”

“I don’t know.” He whines, resting his forehead on his palm as he looks through some messages.

You take the opportunity to distract him, tease him a little bit if that’s able to get him off his phone “Do you know anything ever?”

“I know you’re annoying as fuck even when I make you food and all.”

It works because he locks his phone and stares at you with a pout that feigns innocence and hurt.

“Oh, wow,” you gulp the rest of the water down and wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers before propping yourself up on your knees and then all the way up “And just when I thought we were finally getting along.”

He gets up as well “Is that a thing?” he asks, taking the tray from the floor and leaving it on top of your vanity again, which gains him a look that he ignores “Us being friends?”

“Well, no,” you turn to him on your way to your walk-in closet “We were born to hate each other and that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“We should at least try, Y/N. I have a schedule with you now.”

You don’t hear him follow you but when you turn after finding your pajamas for the night, he’s resting his shoulder on the door frame and the same thought as before crosses your mind.

Why is he attractive like this? Under the soft light of your walk-in closet and with his tie loose and messy?

You don’t if that is what possesses you to walk towards him, slowly, like a lioness towards her prey and stop just before your chest touches his middle “Is that why you want to get along? Or is it because you’re still pitying me, Jeong?”

He says nothing, eyes lidded and breath picking up along yours.

“Is that why you brought me food at the gala? Why you suggested us leaving, defy our parents' wishes only after you saw the way she treated me? Is that it?”

You want him to tell you yes, that’s exactly what it is. Because that alone can effectively kill the desire that suddenly rushes through you, unbidden and foreign. If you lean a little, if you grab his tie and pull him down towards you… Maybe he’ll reject you, maybe his rejection will kill the feeling down too.

So you lean in just a fraction.

And Yunho stays put.

What the hell is going on?

“I don’t pity you, Y/N,” he lets you know for the second time tonight “I understand you,” he says, his eyes scanning your face and looking for something. He seems to find it, he seems to be satisfied with it as well “I finally understand you and I think you understand me too. Do you?”

It takes you a bit, but you nod and he tilts his head just a little bit, like saying see?

“And because of that, you want us to be friends?”

He breathes out and it hits your cheek. Your chest heaves a little at that “Don’t you think we could at least try to get along, princess?” He asks in a whisper.

You take your time pretending to think about it like the proposal isn’t tempting, like you didn’t already answer yourself inside your head. Truly, you’re a little lost at the closeness and a little dizzy at the way his pupils seem to be committing you to his memory.

There’s this sudden tension you never let yourself feel before and your mouth hangs open a little when he leans in another tiny, molecular fraction into your space.

And then common sense takes over. Pushing him away and into your room just to move past him, you shrug “Truce until we break up, it is.”

“Truce, then.” You don’t need to turn to him to know he’s smiling.

“They updated it?” you don’t have your phone with you but you can already foresee the amount of activities you have together just to put up with the charade. He looks at you, confused after whatever that was “The calendar?”

“O-oh, yeah, uhm… I don’t see you for the rest of the week except on saturday morning and afternoon, here it says, um…” at the day mentioned, you freeze “It says: Ask her to take you with her to her saturday activities?”

“You don’t need to, I’ll tell them you were with me.” You dismiss the idea right away, pretending it’s not a big deal and moving to your big mirror to try and unzip the dress one more time.

“Why? What do you do on saturdays?”

Giving him a look, he puts his palms up defensively.

“I thought we were friends now!”

“Having friends means sharing your personal agenda with them?” You ask, beyond confused.

“It’s technically my agenda too, so…”

“I don’t know why it’s your agenda too because what I do on saturdays it’s not necessarily public information and… Oh, stupid zipper,” you look around your vanity for something that can help you get it down “And,” you continue, failing at the task in hand “It’s not really something for everyone. So I’m guessing it’s some sort of way your mom or my mom are punishing you for lashing out this afternoon.”

“Ok, but what is it?” He murmurs and you stop your movements. Yunho is suddenly behind you. Entranced with finding something that could help you out, you didn’t even notice him closing the distance in the background on the reflection on the mirror. But when you look up he’s there and your poor, poor heart picks up again.

“I volunteer at an orphanage that’s not really… Well, it’s not the best at taking care of the kids but I’m working on that,” you answer, cautiously, catching his surprised expression in the mirror “I bring them some food and toys and since it’s nearing halloween we wanted to decorate the space a little bit but the kids they’re not… Sweet and innocent,” you try to explain, gulping when Yunho raises his hands and his fingers start fidgeting with the zipper “They’ve been through some shit so they cause a little bit of trouble when people go and visit them. They’re used to seeing me but not you, so…”

“They’re going to bully me?” he asks, regarding you through the reflection with a tiny smile “I can help you this saturday if you like… It’s stuck,” the pout returns to his lips and you can only hope he’s not able to hear your heartbeats the way you hear them of your ears, the way you feel them on your throat, especially when the zipper gives in and it slides easily down the length of your body. He leaves it at an appropriate distance, where it doesn’t show too much skin and it doesn’t feel impossible to pull it down yourself, either “There.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter out fast, wondering why he’s not pulling away and time stops ticking when you catch him taking a look at your exposed skin, his cheeks darkening a bit or so you think “I t-thought you had that thing this weekend?”

“Honjoong’s gig,” he nods “that’s at eight that day. So I can go with you on— I want to go with you.”

What is this? What’s this sudden change of heart? What’s this tension, this mutual understanding, this sudden feeling of wanting to have him around for that?

Your walls are falling down and that’s dangerous.

Your clothes might fall down too, if he keeps staring at you like that.

“Sure,” you mumble out and, for the first time in forever, you welcome with a hug and a kiss on the forehead the sound of the garage door opening and signaling that your parents and his are finally home “Y-you should—”

He pulls away, awkwardly and almost tripping with the carpet.

“Y-yeah, no, definitely—”

“I’m going to t-take a shower, so…”

“Oh, yeah, you stink again, um—”

He almost makes it through the door when he turns around and takes the tray “Thank you, by the way.”

It catches him off guard, you can tell.

“Thank you for today. For showing up, for making me food and everything else.”

His smile brings that fluttery softness emotion back and you point to the door before he can say anything back.

“Tell them I’m asleep, please.”

“Yeah, okay, hm… See you saturday?”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” he smiles again and you walk to the door so you can see him out of your room and lock it like his brother suggested over text “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jeong.” You whisper and, finally, you breathe in the normalcy of your room again.

Only this time, you look around and see the image of Yunho at the edge of your bed. And again, sitting by your balcony with you. And again, when you move through the walk-in closet to get to your bathroom behind it, you turn and the memory of him leaning on the door frame plagues your mind like a virus.

You’re in so much trouble.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. This is part two of three (possibly more if the story extends that far). Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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