Love unscripted - Chapter 1
Pairing : Yunho x fem reader
Tags : fluff, fake relationship, next door neighbor, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, forced proximity, opposites attract
W.c : 3,4 k
Summary : It started with one call... You needed a fake date for one night... Turns out the only option you had was you infuriating next door neighbor Jung Yunho...
Playlist : Lovefool ; Greek God ; Treacherous ; Adore you
The email hit your inbox at 11:47 a.m. on a Tuesday-that specific type of weekday where even the smallest inconvenience feels like a declaration of war.
You stared at it for a full sixty seconds, blinking, like it might vanish if you didn't acknowledge it, rereading the subject line three times before doing the only logical thing: slamming your laptop shut like it had personally offended you.
You weren't dreading the reunion.
No. That would imply you cared. But something about the idea of standing in a rooftop bar surrounded by people you barely remembered-glowing, coupled up, overly successful in ways that made your stomach twist on itself like old cables-left a sour taste in your mouth. Because your personal life? A wasteland. A barren, Netflix-and-takeout desert. No partners. No flings. Not even a promising situationship. The most consistent thing in your life was your favorite hoodie and the Korean convenience store clerk who knew your instant ramen preference by heart.
But the real gut-punch?
He was going to be there.
Your ex.
The one who ghosted you five years ago-no explanation, no closure. Just vanished like a bad plotline in an unfinished book. And now, apparently, he was attending. Probably with some gorgeous new partner, because of course the universe wouldn't let you live.
You absolutely refused to show up as the sad, "forever loner" case study everyone would side-eye between mouthfuls of catered food. There was no way you were showing up alone. Not when people still whispered behind your back about how he left. Not when your old classmates would tilt their heads sympathetically and say, "Still single?" like it was an illness.
But you also didn't expect to be this... rattled by a college reunion. Not after surviving exams, three apartments, two job layoffs, and a breakup that taught you how cold silence could really be.
Which is how you found yourself pacing your kitchen at almost midnight, phone clutched in hand like it held the antidote to your dignity. Because apparently, it did.
You had no plans, no one to turn to but you had one solution. Not a boyfriend. Not even a date. Just the nuclear option : Jung Yunho.
Your infuriating next door neighbor. Ridiculously attractive. Annoyingly charming. Radiating with the energy of a golden retriever.
And your only option.
Ten minutes of agonizing indecision later, you gave in. Scrolled down your contacts. Hit call.
The line rang once. Twice.
"Why are you calling so late?" Yunho's voice crackled through the speaker-low, sleepy, and unfairly sexy. Of course. He sounded like sin wrapped in warmth.
You shut your eyes and took a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just... need a favor." A pause.
"I have this class reunion thing," you went on, words tumbling out before you lost your nerve. "And I don't want to show up alone. Could you come with me? As my boyfriend."
A beat. Then:
"You want me to what?"
You closed your eyes.
"Just-pretend to be my boyfriend. For one night. One weekend. Whatever it takes. Please."
Silence.
You pictured him in his apartment right across the hall, probably shirtless, one hand rubbing his neck, hair pushed back in that way he does when he's half-annoyed but intrigued.
"You realize you called me at 12:03 a.m. to ask me to be your fake boyfriend?"
"Yes. And I'm incredibly aware of how pathetic this sounds, thank you."
Another pause. Longer this time. You could practically hear him smirking. Then:
"Alright. I'm in. But I have conditions."
"Yunho-"
He cut you off smoothly.
"Come with me to my cousin's wedding in three weeks," he interrupted.
"I need someone to keep my nosy, conservative family off my back. And someone hot and sarcastic might just do the trick."
WAIT DID HE JUST CALL ME HOT ? No, don't think about that. Focus.
You snorted.
"So I'm your distraction?"
"Exactly. We're both getting something out of it."
"Fine," you said, a smile creeping into your voice.
"If it's just that, we have a deal."
A beat passed.
"And if we're doing this, I also have rules," you added firmly. "Three, to be specific."
"Of course you do."
You ignored the sass.
"Rule one: no kissing unless we're in public. And don't overdo it."
"Damn. Killing the fun at the very beginning, don't you?"
"Rule two," you said louder, "No staying the night. No crashing at each other's places. We keep our space."
"You're afraid you'll fall for me in your sleep?"
You could hear the grin in his voice.
"And rule three," you said deadpan, ignoring his teasing, "absolutely no real feelings."
"So we're playing house but emotionally constipated. Got it."
You groaned, flopping back on your couch.
"You're the worst."
"And yet," he said, voice dropping again, smooth and teasing, "you picked me."
You could practically hear him raising an eyebrow through the receiver. You didn't even need to be in the room to picture that infuriating grin. The truth was, you were more afraid of falling for him.
✧───⋆｡°❅°｡⋆☕︎˚ʚ❆ɞ˚☕︎⋆｡°❅°｡⋆───✧
The week passed in a blur of overthinking, text threads titled "Fake BF Rules (pls don't be weird)", and you making the tragic mistake of watching romantic K-dramas at 2 a.m. while stress-eating leftover garlic bread.
The night of the reunion arrived too fast- and not fast enough.
You smoothed down the fabric of your black cocktail dress in the mirror, already regretting the extra layer of lip gloss. You looked hot. Objectively. But your stomach was flipping upside down. Every time you glanced at the clock, your heartbeat doubled.
And then, a knock.
You opened the door to Yunho standing there like he belonged on a magazine cover that said something like: "How to ruin lives just by existing."
Hands in the pockets of his black slacks, a loose white shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled to his forearms, and the first two buttons open over his chest. His blonde hair peeked from beneath a backwards black cap, looking disgustingly, unfairly hot effortlessly put together in a should-be-illegal way. His expression was lazy, half a smirk.
"Hey."
You blinked. -and promptly forgot how to speak.
"You're-uh. Wow."
He grinned, eyes flicking down your figure with a quick once-over that made your skin buzz.
"You're wearing that?" he said, voice low, a little hoarse. "Guess I'm the lucky one tonight."
You coughed to hide the very real and immediate urge to drag him back into your apartment.
"I thought fake boyfriends were supposed to be humble."
"I'm a multi-talented actor," he said, stepping inside and reaching out to fix your necklace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Humility is extra."
His fingers brushed your collarbone. You froze.
Rule #3: No real feelings. You silently reminded yourself.
His eyes skimmed you slowly, unapologetically, pausing at your neckline before meeting your gaze again.
"You're gonna make it hard to pretend this is fake."
You rolled your eyes and stepped out, locking the door behind you.
"Let's get this over with."
The reunion venue was high-end-a rooftop cocktail bar wrapped in string lights, city skyline twinkling beyond the glass. Everyone looked polished and annoyingly successful. Champagne flutes, soft jazz, and conversations that started with "So what are you up to now?" and ended with humblebrags.
Yunho laced your fingers with his the moment you stepped in, his grip warm and confident. You tensed slightly.
"We're barely through the door."
He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
"Public, isn't it?" he murmured. "Just following rule one."
He smirked and your stomach flipped at his words. You wanted to throttle him.
You should have expected Yunho to take the role so seriously, by the time you reached your ex-classmates, his hand moved behind your back, his cologne doing criminal things to your senses, and you were wondering why your heartbeat would not calm down.
The night started in a dizzying blur of forced smiles and fake laughs. Yunho played the boyfriend role too well-his hand always on the small of your back, his smile charming, his jokes just sharp enough to make people second-guess if he was serious.
He smiled at everyone. He remembered names. He told a story about how you met that was so ridiculous it made people laugh-something about tripping over him in the hallway and calling him a "6-foot inconvenience."
You were getting used to it-his heat beside you, the soft pressure of his hand at your waist-until it happened.
He walked in.
Your ex.
Wearing the same smug expression he always had when he thought he was the smartest man in the room. And he wasn't alone-some gorgeous, sharp-dressed person was clinging to his arm like arm candy. You stiffened, heart racing. But Yunho noticed before you could even say a word.
"So this is the infamous ex?" Yunho leans down to whisper as your ghost-from-the-past walks toward you with a drink in hand.
"He's not infamous. He's just... trash."
"Want me to punch him or just look hot?"
"You already look hot."
Yunho smirks.
Your ex approaches with a smile that tries too hard.
"Didn't think you'd come."
"Didn't think you'd care," you fire back sweetly.
Yunho didn't hesitate.
He pulled you closer—so close your spine registered the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest—and pressed a lingering, tender kiss to your temple. The warmth of his breath contrasted sharply with the glacial, predatory edge that entered his demeanor the moment he turned his gaze toward your ex. His voice was all honey-slick composure, dripping with an effortless charm that completely masked the underlying warning.
Extending one hand in a casual, expectant gesture of greeting, he kept his other arm securely banded around your waist, holding you flush against him as if nothing could ever pry you apart.
"Hey, man. I'm Yunho. I don't think we've met." he said, offering his hand for a shake, his tone dripping with polished hospitality.
Your ex stared down at Yunho's extended hand for a fraction of a second, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he reluctantly reached out to shake it. Yunho’s grip was firm, almost crushing, anchoring the handshake a beat longer than polite society dictated before dropping it effortlessly.
Then, your ex raised an eyebrow, looking past Yunho to you.
"You brought a date?"
"Boyfriend," Yunho corrected smoothly before you could say anything, his smile never reaching his eyes, though the delivery was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Of two years."
You elbowed him sharply in the ribs, a silent reprimand for the sheer absurdity of the timeline he had just invented on the spot. He didn't even flinch; instead, he simply tightened his grip, anchoring you even closer to his side.
You stared up at his profile, completely dumbfounded, your eyes wide as you looked at him as though he had suddenly sprouted wings. Or horns. Or perhaps both.
"Though she still refuses to stop stealing my hoodies."
You nearly choked on your champagne. Your ex faltered. Yet you didn't miss it. His gaze flicked between you and Yunho, and something about his sudden smirk made your stomach churn.
"Didn't think you were the type to settle down."
Yunho's hand moved lower-dangerously close to your hip. You glanced at him in warning, but he just smiled and kissed your cheek.
"She's not the one who ran."
It was soft. But it landed like a slap. Your ex's face twitched.
You grabbed Yunho's hand, tugging him toward the hallway near the restrooms.
"We're getting more champagne," you lied.
Once out of sight, you spun around.
"What was that?"
Yunho shrugged, innocent.
"What? Was I too convincing?"
You opened your mouth-but then he stepped forward. Close. Way too close.
"You're shaking."
"I'm not-"
His hand came up, cupping your jaw. Gentle, grounding.
"You don't have to pretend for me." His voice was lower now, intimate, quiet. "But if I'm gonna pretend for you, I'm going all in."
Your breath caught.
You hated how close he was. You hated how your chest fluttered. You hated that he smelled like expensive cologne and warmth and something unfairly addictive.
"Yunho..."
He leaned in, lips brushing yours.
You panicked. "Rule number one."
"No kissing unless we're in public?" he murmured, backing you gently into the wall. His arm braced beside your head.
He tilted his cap slightly and grinned. "And right now we're in public."
Damn it.
You glared and whispered. "You're evil."
Your breath hitching as his thumb slid up to rest right against the pulse fluttering in your jaw. Fast. Erractic. Traitorous.
"Yeah," he whispered, his grin ghosting across your lips. "But I look good doing it."
For two agonizing seconds, the space between your mouths shrank to absolute zero. You braced yourself, your hand tightening on the lapel of his jacket— to push him away or pull him closer, you weren't even sure.
But Yunho didn't close the gap.
Instead, he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your mouth before lingering on the nervous flutter of your throat. A low, quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest.
"I'm a man of my word. I don't cheat."
Your heart was hammering so loudly against your ribs you were convinced he could feel it through his shirt. "You're enjoying this way too much."
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes gleaming with infuriating triumph.
You absolute bastard.
You almost mouthed those words. But your brain was still trying to process whatever just happened. It was as if you could still felt the electricity through your body even if Yunho was now standing less closer. But still too close.
You swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of the composure you’d spent the last week practicing in front of your mirror.
"You're impossible," you muttered, smoothing the front of your dress with trembling fingers.
Yunho’s expression softened, the sharp, defensive edge he’d worn for your ex completely dissolving. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone—not with the theatrical flair of an actor playing to a crowd, but with a quiet, grounding tenderness that made your breath catch all over again.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice losing its teasing cadence. "Seriously, you okay?"
The genuine concern in his eyes was almost worse than the flirting. It was disarming.
"I'm fine," you lied, looking away toward the hallway entrance.
"I just... didn't expect him to bring someone. And I definitely didn't expect my fake boyfriend to invent a two-year relationship and threaten a man with a handshake."
Yunho let out a low chuckle, stepping back just enough to give you some breathing room, though he kept his hands casually tucked into his slacks.
"Someone had to remind him what he lost," Yunho said simply, though there was no malice in it now—just a quiet certainty that made your stomach flip in an entirely different way.
"I know seeing him must suck. I can take you home if you want. We can leave him and his little arm candy to choke on their champagne."
You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
Underneath the swagger, the designer clothes, and the fake boyfriend theatrims, Yunho was actually paying attention. He had seen right through your sharp comebacks back there.
Your shoulders dropped just a fraction, the tension finally beginning to drain out of your spine.
"No," you said softly, a genuine, small smile finally touching your lips. "No way am I letting him think he chased me away. We're staying."
Yunho’s expression softened into a look that made your stomach flip all over again—this time, without any help from the ex.
"That's my girl," he murmured, offering his arm to you with a mock-formal bow that made your eyes rolled.
The walk back onto the rooftop terrace felt entirely different from the first time you stepped through the glass doors. The low thrum of ambient jazz and the chatter of old acquaintances no longer felt like a hostile tribunal waiting to pass judgment. With Yunho’s solid, warm frame walking beside you—his hand resting with casual, proprietary weight on the small of your back—the room seemed to shrink into something manageable. Your ex and his impeccably dressed companion were nowhere in sight, swallowed up by the sprawling crowd near the illuminated bar, but the phantom sting of their presence had completely evaporated.
The rest of the evening blurred into a surreal montage of stolen glances, lingering touches, and a level of domestic choreography that felt entirely too natural for a couple who had invented their relationship over a late-night phone call.
You traded polite pleasantries with people you had spent years trying to forget, laughed at jokes that were only mildly painful, and watched with secret amusement as Yunho effortlessly charmed a cluster of former sorority sisters who were hanging on his every word. He played the devoted partner with terrifying perfection, leaning in close to whisper ridiculous commentary into your ear that forced you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud. For the first time all evening, the knot of anxiety in your chest dissolved into a warm, buzzing hum of pure adrenaline.
By the time the rooftop bar’s string lights began to dim and the crowd thinned out, your ex was nowhere to be seen—having apparently decided that getting systematically out-maneuvered by a six-foot blonde neighbor in a black cap wasn't how he wanted to spend his Tuesday night.
The ride back to your apartment building was quiet, wrapped in the comfortable hum of the city at 2:00 a.m.
When the elevator doors dinged on your floor, you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, your heels clicking against the carpet. You reached your door, fumbling through your small clutch for your keys, hyper-aware of Yunho standing just a few inches away, leaning casually against the doorframe of his own apartment directly across from yours.
"Well," you said, forcing a bright, casual tone as you finally fished the keys out. "The fake boyfriend act was a 10 out of 10. You deserve an Oscar. Or at least some free drink."
Yunho didn't move. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes catching the amber glow of the hallway sconce.
"I'm a man of expensive tastes. A free drink won't cut it anymore."
You unlocked your door and pushed it open, turning back to face him with a smirk. "Right. Well, thank you. For saving me back there. I owe you one."
"You certainly do," Yunho agreed, his voice dropping to that low, smooth register that made your skin tingle.
He pushed off the doorframe and took a slow step toward you, closing the distance until he was standing right on your threshold.
The air between you suddenly felt entirely too thin.
"Don't forget," he murmured, his gaze dipping briefly to your mouth before rising to lock with yours, "My cousin's wedding. You're returning the favor."
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "I remember. Three weeks."
"Good," Yunho whispered, his hand coming up to rest on the doorframe right beside your head, caging you in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Because my family is ruthless. You're going to have to pretend you're madly in love with me."
Before you could think of a sufficiently sarcastic response to mask the frantic pounding of your heart, Yunho smiled—a slow, knowing, dangerous thing—and stepped back.
"Sleep well, neighbor," he said softly, turning away and walking across the hall to unlock his own door.
You stood frozen in your doorway for a full ten seconds, watching him disappear inside his apartment before the door clicked shut. You closed your own door, leaned your back against it, and slid slowly down to the floor.
Three weeks until his family's wedding.
You touched your fingertips to your temple where his breath had brushed hours ago, realizing with a sudden, terrifying jolt that the hardest part of the fake dating arrangement wasn't going to be surviving his family.
It was going to be surviving yourself.
Thanks for reading me ! Hope you like it so far ? Let me know your thoughts? ? Wanna see Yunho break the rules yet or no ?? 🫣🤭
Honestly I was planning to do a short OS at first but maybe I should do a full fanfic ?
What do you think ? 🤔
Keep it as short 2/3 part OS 🥰
Make it a full slow burn FF 😏🤪
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🎧 Playlist : Lovefool - The Cardigans | Greek God - Conan Grey | Treacherous - Taylor Swift | Adore you - Harry Styles
