Songs on the charts, sold-out shows, the kind of career most musicians dream aboutâeverythingâs perfect. But success doesnât fill the emptiness. And then, just when you think youâve moved onâthere he is. Your past, standing in front of you like a love song you never finished.
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË pairing â park jongseong x male!reader
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË word count â 4.8k
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË tags â male reader, jay x reader, estranged exes to lovers, famous singer!reader because we're built like that, is this angst? i have no clue, memories of your past together just hits hard ughhhh, jay has a new lover omg the drama-mama-mamah, you are dramatic as hell but we love you for you, you are insane to still think of him, i understand though you are in love with jay we see each other WE SEE EACH OTHER, more to come!
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË warning + notes â use of male pronouns, has some implied relationships, swear words, mentions and use of alcoholic substances, also AHH VIOLENCE IN THIS ONE, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl, story update lengths may vary~
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË way back into love : the full masterlist
âYou sure youâre okay?â Miraâs voice echoed as you got inside your townhouse, the sudden sounds of clicking locks and shifting gears of your front door echoing against the city ambience.
âYeah.â You sighed.
Mira took a short time to breathe too before she prompted to leave you to rest. As soon as she said her goodbyes, you tucked your phone on your left pocket and walked straight towards your most beloved house possessionâthe fridge.
The weight of Mr. M's ultimatum pressed against your ribs like a second heartbeat as your hands traversed the cans of carbonated drinks inside the fridge.
âShould I even get cola today?â You pondered.
Outside, the city was bleeding from gold hour into twilightâwindows glittering amber across brownstone rooftops, the Chrysler Building's spire catching the last fiery streaks of sunset.
God was it such a treat of a view.
You stopped at the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressing your forehead to the cool glass, watching your ghostly reflection blink back at you in the darkening pane.
âHey, you.â You spoke, alone in the dim living room.
You twisted and curled your toes as you tried to think of anything amusing to say to your own reflection, yet there was nothing that came to your mind.
âYouâre pathetic.â You muttered under your heavy breath.
Buzzing into existence, your phone rang from your side pocket.
Flipping through your messages, you see one notification from the only person in your mind right now.
Jay:Â Remember that bench back in Battery Park?
That message drew a smile on your face, memories resurfacing and thoughts flooding your senses.
You: Yea?
Jay: One hour?
The message burned in your palm. You counted the passing seconds by the throbbing pulse in your wristâone Mississippi, two Mississippiâuntil the screen dimmed to black. Then lit up again.
Jay:Â Thereâs a new taco joint my students recommended me to. Got coupons for 50% off tacos. You down?
A punched-out laugh escaped you, fogging the glass. The condensation mirrored how your thoughts had been all dayâclouded, unclear, slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly you tried to hold on.
Without missing a beat, you quickly grabbed your spring jacket.
âââ
âI guess it that time of the year alreadyâŚâ You spoke to yourself as you see petals pass above, below, and to your sides.
The park smelled like freshly cut grass and distant rain. Cherry blossom petals swirled through the air like pink snow, catching in your hair as you followed the familiar pathâpast the old elm with the gnarled trunk, around the fountain that never worked quite right, down to that one bench facing the harbor where the paint was chipped away from years of weather and restless fingers.
And thenâlike a pot of gold at the end of the rainbowâthere he was.
Jay sat waiting, backlit by the harbor lights beginning to flicker on across the water. Two glass-bottled colas sweated between his knees, their labels peeling from condensation. A grease-spotted paper bag sat balanced precariously on the bench beside him, the scent of cumin and charred corn tortillas cutting through the salt air. And itâs not even a Tuesday.
The sight knocked the breath from your lungs.
He turned at the crunch of gravel under your shoes.
"You came," he said, voice scraped raw like he'd been shouting. Or maybe not speaking at all.
You sat carefully, leaving exactly eleven inches of painted metal between you. The space felt both cavernous and infinitesimal. The thin tree beside the bench still bore the faint carving you'd made one drunken summer night â ME + JAY inside a lopsided heart. The memory of his laughter as you struggled with your metal fork warmed your cheeks even now.
"You asked." You said, accepting the cola he handed you.
His fingers brushed yoursâjust for a millisecondâbut it was enough to send electricity shooting up your arm.
Jay took a long pull from his bottle, the muscles in his throat working. The fading light caught the shape of his bare faceâstill as soft, plump, and charming as youâve last seen them. Behold them. Had them between the warmth of your palms.
"Naomi and I talked," he started, then stopped, jaw tightening.
It was weird. For a new dish from a new store in New York, the tacos smelled like lime and nostalgia. You focused on picking at the label of your cola instead of the way his shoulder pressed against yours, warm even through two layers of fabric.
"And?"
A harbor breeze ruffled his hair, longer now than in your days together as a bunch of cram heads. He watched a seagull swoop low over the water before speaking.
"She knew.â
Your face dropped the moment you heard him say those words.
âBefore the article. Before Leah's wedding." His laugh was hollow, bouncing off the pavement. "Apparently I'm shit at hiding it when I..." He trailed off, fingers tightening around his bottle.
"When you what?"
Jay turned to face you fully, the bench creaking beneath him. The dying light caught the gold flecks in his brown eyes.
"When I'm still in love with you."
It was as if the world has tilted on its axis. The cola bottle nearly slipped from your fingers.
"She said she'd always known," Jay continued, voice softer now. "Saw how I'd go quiet when your songs came on. Even down to how I kept that stupid festival wristband in my wallet from years ago."
His thumb traced the lip of his bottle, around and around. âThen she saw how I lingered on your music. How Iâd go quiet when someone mentioned your name.â
The thought of it almost ruined you. Wrecked you.
From your recent conversations, you figured it was just nostalgia of a relationship past. The âmiss youâs youâve exchanged fleeting thoughts that echoed regret and nothing more.
But right now, it finally hit you. He still thought of you all this time.
Just like you did.
"She told me she also found the CD you made me years agoâthe one with all our road trip songsâin my glove compartment."
A cherry blossom petal landed on his knee. He didn't brush it away.
"She said she wanted me happy," he murmured. "Even if it wasn't with her."
Your throat tightened.
You looked back as you remembered Naomi's hand on Jay's arm at the weddingânot possessive, but protective. The way she'd looked at you with something that wasn't quite jealousy, but instead resignation.
"And you?" you managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Jay set his cola down carefully on the bench. When he spoke again, it was like he'd ripped the words from somewhere deep inside.
"I dropped out of law school because of you."
The non sequitur startled a wet laugh from you. "What?"
"That day you left," he said, eyes fixed on the Statue of Liberty's distant torch, "I realized I'd spent all my years of living following a path my parents have built and paved for me.â
Jay grew quiet at that. âJust like you were about to do with Atlas."
You looked at him as he tried to say all this words without breaking.
His fingers flexed against his knees. "So I quit. Switched to music theory because I thought..." His voice cracked. "I thought if I couldn't save you, maybe I could at least be someone else's guide."
The confession hung between you, fragile as the spiderweb glistening on the bench's armrest.
You swallowed hard. Mira's voice echoed in your memoryâ"He teaches at NYU now. Music theory. I knew he was an ace but heâs actually good at it."
"You knew," Jay realized, watching your face. â⌠havenât you?â
You nodded, the motion jerky. "M-Mira told me last week."
The harbor sounds filled the silenceâwaves lapping against the seawall, a distant ferry horn, the screech of gulls fighting over scraps.
âIf thereâs anything that made me realize after all this time, it was that âŚâ
Jay shifted, turning fully toward you until his knee brushed yours.
"I never stopped loving you," he said, simple as sunrise.
Time stopped.
Four years.
Four years of platinum records and sold-out arenas and hotel rooms so silent you could hear your own pulse. Four years of telling yourself you didn't miss the way he snored softly through his nose when exhausted, or how he'd absentmindedly hum old radio songs in the shower, or the particular way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at his own jokes.
It all came rushing out in a single breath. "I thought about you every goddamn day."
Jay's breath hitched. His hand hovered between you, trembling slightly in the golden glow of the park lamps. Waiting. Always waiting for you.
And now, you bridged the gap.
His fingers laced through yoursâcalloused from guitar strings and piano keys, warm and familiar and right. The tacos tumbled forgotten to the side as you turned toward each other, knees knocking, free hands reaching.
Around you, the city pulsed with its usual relentless energyâcar horns blaring, a street performer's violin carrying on the breeze, the million lights of Manhattan flickering to life. None of it mattered.
Not when, for the first time in four long years, the hollow space beneath your ribs finally felt full again.
Not when Jay's thumb was brushing your knuckles like he was relearning your topography. Your texture. Your temperature.
You.
"What now?" He put his forehead against yours as you leaned into him, breathing in the cedar-and-salt scent that had haunted your dreams.
âNow I take my time with you.â You said softly. âIâve missed your warmth, Jay.â
Jay smiled, creasing his cheek with that one-sided smirk that complimented his features.
âMe too.â
And all that you ever needed was that, his presence, blanketing you in sweet embrace.
â
The studio was bathed in soft golden light, diffused through silk screens to eliminate harsh shadows.
You sat on a peach colored sofa that was firmer than it looked, the microphone clipped to your collar weighing heavier than it should.
Across from you, Claire Mercerâlegendary music journalist with a reputation for extracting truths artists didnât know they were ready to shareâcrossed her legs and balanced a leather-bound notebook on her knee. A steaming cup of black tea sat untouched on the glass coffee table between you, its scent mingling with the studioâs faint ozone smell from all the equipment.
Claire smile strategically, hoping to lure you into honesty.
"Letâs start with something light. Your fourth album just went triple platinumâan almost impossible feat in todayâs streaming landscape. When you were eighteen, busking in Washington Square Park with a secondhand guitar, could you have imagined this?"
You chuckled, fingers tapping an absent rhythm against your knee. "Of course not! Letâs be real. Back then, a good day meant making enough for a slice of dollar pizza and a MetroCard swipe.â
Memories flood your head as you remember making time to hang out on the Square, preparing hurriedly as Jay made sure to tune your acoustic friend finely before he left you for his morning classes.
âYou didnât touch the donuts I got you?â Jay asked as he held your guitar in his lap, all in the middle of tuning it to perfection.
âDonuts?â You popped a brow. âYou mean the oneâs from Monettanâs?â
Jay chuckled. âWhat else did look like donuts to you, genius?â He then pinched your ears right after.
âBut thatâs half my rent??â You crunched up your face.
The memory quickly passed by, all with a light unnoticeable chuckle. It was one of those days that Jay always looked out for you.
But even then, other memories flooded your mind, too. Everything was different back then.
âI remember this one afternoonâit was pouring rain, and I was playing under this sad little awning. Some guy tossed a five-dollar bill into my case and said, âKid, youâre gonna be huge.â I thought he was just being nice."
A quiet laugh rippled through the small crew behind the cameras.
Claire scribbled something in her notebook, the pen scratching audibly.
"Youâve spoken before about the loneliness of fameâhow the higher you climb, the fewer people you can trust. Do you ever miss those early days? The rawness of playing for strangers who didnât know your name?"
You hesitated, your thumb brushing the faint scar on your wristâthe one from the pancake incident with Jay. The studio lights suddenly felt too hot.
"Yeah," you admitted, quieter now. "There was something... honest about it. No expectations. No algorithms telling you what to play. Just me, my guitar, and people who either stopped to listen or walked right past. Sometimes, Iâll be onstage in front of thousands of people and... Iâll still miss that."
Claire nodded slowly, her sharp blue eyes catching yours. "Thatâs interesting. Because last week, photos surfaced of you at a diner with a man the internetâs been obsessing over. And in those photos..." She paused deliberately. "You looked happier than you have in years."
The air in the room shifted. Off-camera, Mira tensed, her manicured nails tightening around her tablet.
âOh for fuckingâ that woman!â She muttered under her hot breath.
Claire leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Who is he?"
For a second, you considered lying. You should lie.
âWhat if she slips in a naughty question?â You asked as you tried another outfits from the closet.
âHow naughty?â Mira smirked.
âUgh, I meant like ⌠sneaky ones.â You sighed as you sat on one of the ottomans present beside you. âLike about me and Jay.â
Mira looked at you, exhaling deeply before getting her say.
âJust trust your gut. Talk, maybe.â You looked at her with a concerned glance.
âJust⌠like that?â
âYeah.â Mira smiled. âYouâd do it anyway. I canât stop you.â
You chuckled as she guessed you right to that. You are one heck of a defiant guy.
âAlso wear this, weâve got a deal to keep it all Dior âtil April right?â
âUgh, fine~â
The more you thought about it, the more youâll keep hurting yourself.
Then you exhaled, looking directly into the camera.
"His name is Jay."
Claireâs pen froze mid-scribble.
"We met in college," you continued, your voice steadier than you felt. "He wasâisâthe reason I believed I could do this in the first place.â
Silence. The room was nothing but a sea of silence.
âAnd I left him to chase this dream." A wet laugh escaped you. "Funny how that works, huh?"
Claireâs eyes flickeredâsurprise, then something like respect. "So this isnât just a reunion?"
You didnât answer.
You didnât have to.
â
Mr. Mâs office was a monument to powerâfloor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, a desk polished to a mirror shine, a vintage whiskey decanter that cost more than most peopleâs rent.
Right now, it was also a crime scene.
The flat-screen on his wall replayed your Rolling Stone interview on muteâyour face, your words, your defianceâlooping endlessly. Mr. M stood motionless in front of it, his reflection superimposed over your image like a ghost.
His assistant, Ethan, hovered in the doorway, clutching an iPad like a shield. "Sir, the boardâtheyâve called an emergency meeting. They want you in the conference room. Now."
Mr. M didnât turn. "Tell them Iâm busy."
Ethan swallowed. "They said... they said itâs not optional."
Silence.
Thenâ
CRASH.
Mr. Mâs crystal tumbler exploded against the wall, ice skittering across the floor. "Get out."
Ethan fled.
Alone, Mr. M stalked to the window, where your faceâtwenty feet tallâsmoldered on a Dior advertisement at Times Square. Your eyes stared back at him, mocking.
"After everything I gave you," he whispered, his breath fogging the glass.
His phone buzzedâa text from the board chairman:
"Conference room. NOW."
Mr. M straightened his tie, smoothed his suit, and walked out like a man heading to the gallows.
â
Breathing in the conditioned air and holding yourself inside the elevator, Mira was already moving, her clipboard clutched like a battering ram against the inevitable circus outside.
It was already past 3PM when your interview ended, and as soon as it concludedâ the headlines, the fuzz, the frenzy, and the notifications started to flood your phone.
âIâm seeing a lot of articles already.â You mumbled. âThey work fast.â
âWell,â Mira sighed, âthey are the devil.â
You both snickered a good laugh together.
Suddenly, the elevator slowed down gracefully and notified you with a calm voice.
âGround Floor.â A silent hum then followed after.
"Donât engage," she hissed, stepping in front of you with the precision of a bodyguard. "Head down, sunglasses on, and for fuckâs sakeâjust keep movingâ"
The elevator doors slid open and Mira was already moving, her sharp elbow clearing a path. "No comments, no photosâ"
Too late.
The second your shoe hit the lobby floor, the flashbulbs and shutters erupted. A wall of shouting bodies surged forward, iPhones thrust like weapons.
"OVER HERE! LOOK HERE!"
"IS IT TRUE THAT YOUâRE CURRENTLY IN A RELATIONSHIP?"
"WHOâS JAY! WHOâS JAY!"
Mira blocked a camera with her clipboard. "Move," she snapped at security, yanking your wrist so hard your shoulder jerked. You ducked low, sunglasses slipping as some asshole lunged closerâ
"SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE BREAKUP, CâMON MAN!"
âand then your ribs connected with a stray elbow. The air punched out of you.
âOw!â You couldnât help but wince.
Mira saw it and boiled her blood to a hundred degrees, shoving the rookie paparazzi out of the way.
"Christ," Mira snarled, shoving a reporter back. "Call fucking backupâ"
A hand clamped onto your bicep. Not Miraâs.
You whipped your head up, ready to swingâ
Security. A rookie you didnât recognize, wide-eyed and sweating. "This way sirâ" he panted, hauling you toward a side exit.
Miraâs voice sliced through the noise. "NOT THAT WAYâ"
But the crowd was already pivoting, a pack of hyenas scenting blood. You stumbled as someone grabbed the back of your jacketâ
Then you saw him.
Jay.
Leaning against a concrete pillar near the exit like heâd been carved there, arms crossed, one ankle hooked lazily over the other.
The late afternoon sun cut through the glass lobby doors, gilding the edges of himâbleached hair mussed from running his hands through it, that stupidly perfect leather jacket clinging to his shoulders. He wasnât even looking at the chaos brewing outside. Just waiting. For you.
Your breath locked in your throat.
The paparazzi spotted him half a second later.
"OH MY GOD, ITâS HIM!" A shutter exploded like gunfire. "JAYâIS THAT THE MYSTERY MAN?"
Miraâs grip on your elbow turned vice-tight. "Company van," she barked into her headset. "NOW."
Jay didnât hesitate. He pushed off the pillar and closed the distance in three strides, falling into step beside you like no time had passed at all. His shoulder bumped yoursâwarm, solid, an anchor in the screaming storm of flashes and questions. "Eyes forward," he murmured, so low only you could hear.
Mira wrenched the SUV door open, shoving you both inside. The second the door slammed, the noise cut off like someone had hit mute.
Silence.
You turned to Jay, pulse hammering. "W-What are you doing here?"
No answer. Just his hand sliding over yours, calloused fingers lacing tight between your knuckles. A single squeeze.
Iâm here. Whatever happens.
Mira exhaled sharply from the front seat, her phone already lighting up with a dozen notifications. "This," she said, voice clipped, "is a PR nightmare."
Jayâs thumb traced the ridge of your wrist.
At that point, all you ever needed was himânothing else.
â
The Atlas Records boardroom was a tomb of glass and steel, the kind of cold that gnawed through suit jackets and settled in the marrow. Twelve executives sat around the onyx table, their faces carved from the same indifferent stone.
At the head, Eleanor Whitmoreâ61, razor-straight posture, a single pearl necklace against a charcoal blazerârested her palms on the table. Her manicure was flawless, pale pink. It made the silence worse.
"Michael."
Her voice sliced the air.
Mr. M â Michael Aker â stood frozen halfway to his seat, his custom Tom Ford suit suddenly too tight across the shoulders. His smile was a brittle thing, cracking at the edges.
"Eleanor," he laughed, nervous, too loud, "whatever this is about, I assure youâ"
"Sit. Down."
It was a command, not a request. The kind of tone that stops hearts.
He sat.
Eleanor tapped her iPad. The floor-to-ceiling screen behind her woke up in a blaze of lightâemails, bank transfers, contracts, all stamped with his initials. A digital autopsy of his crimes.
Mr. M's throat tightened in an instant. His cufflinks caught the light as his hands trembledâjust once.
"W-what is thâ"
"For the past four years," Eleanor said, calm as a guillotine's descent, "you have been laundering money through our artists' royalties." A click. Offshore accounts, layered like Russian dolls.
Another click. "You manipulated streaming numbers to defraud investors and undermine the competition." A spreadsheet bloomed, numbers artificially inflated in red.
Thenâthe kill shot.
A contract. Your name. Page 37, Section 9b: a clause so predatory it made the room inhale.
"And worst of all," Eleanor murmured, "you enslaved our biggest star in a deal so fraudulent, itâs a miracle they havenât sued us into oblivion."
Mr. M's laugh was a dry cough. "Eleanor, these accusations areâ"
"Not accusations."
Daniel Cho, the CFO, slid a black folder across the table. It screeched against the glass. Inside of it was printed server logs, his personal encryption keys, a paper trail even his lawyers couldnât burn.
"From your own servers," Daniel said. "We copied everything before you could ever think of wiping it."
Mr. M's pulse throbbed in his temple. His Rolex rattled against the table. "You donât understandâI built this label!" His voice splintered. "And that ⌠I made that ungrateful brat a star! I gave him everything!"
Eleanor sighed, the way one might at a childâs tantrum. "You're fired. Effective immediately."
In a heartbeat, the air turned viscous.
Mr. M stood so fast his chair slammed backward, crashing into the glass panels of the room. Outside, your face loomed on a billboardâstanding tall, smirking down at him like fate itself.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Spittle flecked his lips.
Eleanor pressed a button under the table. The doors hissed open.
Two armed guards stepped in, hands already reaching.
"Watch me,"Â she said.
They grabbed him by the elbows, dragging him toward the elevator. His Ferragamos scraped grooves into the hardwood.
"ELEANOR! ELEANOR, YOUÂ BITCHâ"
The doors closed. His voice muffled, then vanished.
Silence.
â
The townhouse was eerily quiet when you stepped inside, the click of the door too loud in the hush. Jay flicked on the lights, but the silence pressed in anywayâheavy, like the air before a storm.
Mira lingered in the foyer, her fingers worrying her car keys. "You sure youâre okay? I can stayâ"
You waved her off. "Weâre good. Thanks, Mira."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Call me if anything happens."
The door shut behind her, leaving you and Jay alone.
Quiet. Only the peaceful sounds of the city streets rushed through your ears and outside the window.
There, you stood by the entrance. And with you? Jay, smiling at you like there was no tomorrow.
âYouâre gonna tear off your face if you keep smiling like that.â You spoke.
Jay then hugged you from behind, breathing onto your next with a sigh of relief.
You kicked off your shoes, laughing weakly. "Remember when we thought my dorm was haunted?"
Jay smirked, toeing the edge of the rug. "You screamed because a moth flew into your hair."
"It was huge!" You shoved him, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed.
Thenâ
BANG.
The sound was deafening.
The vase beside your head exploded, glass shards raining onto the hardwood. Your body moved to shove Jay out of the way before your brain could processâgunshotâand then Jay was moving, lunging toward the shadow in the doorway.
Mr. M.
Pistol raised, his face twisted in fury.
"You ruined me!" he snarled.
âH-how did you-â
âI know everything about you!â He raised his voice. âI built you! MADE YOU!â
Suddenly, Jay crashed into him, knocking him back.
âJAY!!â
A whittling commotion can be heard as Mira pried your door open.
âWhatâs the-â
âITâS MR. M!â You shrieked. âHeâs fighting Jay!â
âF-FIGHTING?!?â Mira shouted like her lungs depended on it.
âShould I-â
âYES!â You didnât let fear scramble you as you took Mira to the side. âNOW!â
Mira didnât hesitate and brought her dial to her ear, waiting for the other side to pick up.
The second gunshot tore through the air like a crack of thunder, and suddenlyâBANG.
White-hot, searing through your side.
You gasped, the sound more of a wet choke than breath, your back slamming against the wall as your legs gave out. Your hand flew to the wound, fingers coming away slick and red.
âWhat the fuckââ You coughed, and agony lanced through your ribsâeach spasm cost you air, cost you thought, cost you everything.
Mira was on you before you hit the ground, her hands clawing at your shirt, her voice a frenzied mantra.
âOh my god, oh my god, oh my godââ
She dragged you backward, your heels scuffing bloody trails across the floor, her grip bone-crushing as she hauled you behind a toppled conference table.
âStay with meâstay with meâ!â
âFuck it hurtsâŚâ You winced as you felt the hot bullet still searing your muscle.
Your vision spotted black at the edges, but you forced your head upâbecause Jay was still out there.
âHAH!!â Jay had Mr. M pinned against the shattered window, the quaint city street a fractured backdrop behind them. The gun lay kicked aside, but Mr. M was far from done.
âYou ruined me!â Mr. M spat, his face a rictus of sweat and fury, shooting a glance towards you.
âI made you! Everything you areâeverything you haveâitâs because of ME!â
Jayâs grip on his collar tightened, his voice low, lethal.
âYou stole from him. You lied to him. You used himâ
Mr. M laughed, the sound hysterical, unhinged. âAnd you let me!â
The words stung silently, your eyes never taking off Jayâs fazed look. ****
âWhere were you, Jay? Huh? Off playing hero while HE bled for my profit?â
âJay, donât listen to him!â You shouted, the wound still throbbing hot in your flesh.
Yet Jay flinchedâjust onceâbut it was enough.
Mr. M twisted, driving a knee into Jayâs ribs, and broke free. He lunged for the gunâ
âJAY!â Your voice ripped raw from your throat.
Jay tackled him, their bodies crashing into a desk, sending your books, papers, glass flyingâ
BANG.
AÂ third gunshot.
Jay staggered back, his hand pressing to his side, blood welling between his fingers.
âN-No!â Mira caught your hand as you sobbed, clutching you tighter.
Mr. M scrambled to his feet, panting, wild-eyedâ
But Jay was faster.
He slammed Mr. Mâs head into the floor, once, twice, until the man went limp.
Thenâsilence.
Jayâs breath was ragged, his shirt stained crimson, but his gaze found yours across the wreckage.
âStill⌠here?â he managed, voice threadbare.
You choked out a laugh, even as Mira shook you, screaming for help.
âYeah,â you whispered. âStill here.â
Mr. M wrenched free, pantingâthen bolted, the front door slamming behind him.
Jay dropped to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
You crawled toward him, vision swimming.
"Please ⌠stay with me," you begged, pressing your hands to his wound.
Jay smiled, his eyelids fluttering. "Worth it."
Mira was already on the phone, her voice frantic. "Ambulance! NOW!"
Your tears fell onto Jayâs face, mixing with his sweat.
"Donât you dare leave me again." You cried. ââDonât you DARE!!â
His fingers found yours.
And there was only a smile on his face, before he let out one gust of precious air from the pain.
âJay? Jay âŚ. JAAAYYY!!!â
Outside, sirens wailed.
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË story taglist â tagging @kaiyunsim @firstclassjaylee @ryes-brownies08
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË can i join the masterlist? â sure! i do frequent posts and updates so just be warned! leave a reply on any posts and i'll add ya in the future updates, much love~Â
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË way back into love : the full masterlist
legacy masterlist! | made by writhyv đ
for some reason, your idol boyfriend finds out about your old fan account ...
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË pairing/s â park jongseong x male!reader + sim jaeyun x male!reader + nishimura riki x male!reader + park sunghoon x male!reader
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË tags â male reader, enhypen x engene!reader, smau / texting, fluff, suggestive content, innuendos
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË warning + notes â use of male pronouns, implied relationship in each pairing, swear words, innuendos, not a poly, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË u got texts : the full masterlist (revamped and reorganized)
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riki_husband.png
ENâD
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË kai's notes â trying out this new layout on my new and ongoing series! will eventually make their way into old works. the old masterlist will be referred as the legacy one so you can still browse it! also AAAAAAAAA THAT NI-KI TIKTOK ... I AM FERALKFAJAOII0AJVOIKVEGEG I AM TIRED NISHIMURA PLS đ
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË story taglist â want to get the latest updates on this story? i do frequent posts so just be warned! just leave a reply on any posts and i'll add ya in the future updates~
my masterlist! | made by writhyv đ
no one will know which one it is.
Would love to receive just something nice today đđď¸
you can't just contain it can you? biting onto something so forbidden ... god fucking dammit forbid your lover has meaty guns for arms holy fuck
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË pairing â park sunghoon x male!reader
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË tags â fluff, then suddenly suggestive, implied male!reader down bad for sunghoon, cuddles, intentions to fuck but we'll see, you see i wrote this just looking at sunghoon's arms, and y'all wanted it okay !!
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË warning + notes â erm the urge to hold this man down because his arms are fucking thick what the fuck
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË word count â 1.2k
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË looking for my main masterlist? â here's the legacy one!
The low hum of the television is a distant murmur, barely registering beneath the weight of Sunghoonâs presence beside you.
The documentary plays onâsome sweeping shot of Arctic tundra, glaciers groaning under their own weightâbut the screen might as well be static for all you care.
Because Sunghoon is warm.
Not just warmâradiant, like the sun itself had curled up next to you on the couch instead. Heâd come home later than usual, hair still damp from the shower, smelling faintly of that body wash you always tease him for buying.
Itâs ridiculous how good it smells on him. Like something expensive and forbidden, clinging to his skin long after heâs stepped out of the steam.
And now here he is, in that tank topâthat specific one, the one you know he wears on purpose because it clings to every dip and curve of his shoulders, the fabric thin from too many washes, nearly translucent where it stretches over his chest. His arms are bare, his skin still flushed from the heat of his shower, and when heâd pulled you against him without a word, you hadnât even pretended to resist.
How could you? This was your lover weâre talking about. Your warmth itself.
His arm is heavy around your own, slowly tracing down with his fingers tracing absent circles into your hip. You can feel the flex of his forearm every time he shifts, the muscle tightening unconsciously as he adjusts his grip.
Your cheek rests against his bicep, and the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, slow and syrupy.
Your body molds to his effortlessly, your head finding its usual spot against his bicep, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his thigh. Sunghoon hums, content, his arm tightening around your waist as the documentary drones on in the background.
You can hear his breathing, steady and deep, but when you glance up, his eyes are already on youâdark, amused, knowing.
Heâs not really paying attention either.
Because youâyou were staring.
He can feel itâthe weight of your gaze, the way your fingers flex against his leg, the quiet, hitched breaths you think he doesnât notice. Sunghoon smirks to himself, tilting his head just enough to catch the way your eyes linger on the curve of his arm, the way your teeth worry at your bottom lip.
Cute.
"Youâre not even watching," Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low, rough at the edges like heâs been laughing too hard at practice. His thumb strokes over your abdomen, deliberate, and you swear he presses just a little harder when your breath catches.
You hum, pretending to consider the screen. "Polar bears," you say, deadpan. "Very educational."
A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, and you feel it where youâre tucked against him, the vibration of it sinking into your ribs.
"Liar," he accuses, but thereâs no heat in itâjust that familiar fondness, the one that makes your stomach flip. "Iâll melt if you keep looking at me like that."
You could deny it. You should deny it.
He expects you to deny it, to swat at him, to roll your eyes and call him cockyâbut instead, you press your lips to the inner seams of his armâjust a brush, barely there.
A soft, pliant kiss upon his silken complexion.
Sunghoon goes still, his fingers twitching against your side.
Your mouth is warm, soft, and when your teeth graze over his skinâjust the barest hint of pressureâhis breath catches, his fingers twitching against your side.
"Ticklish?" you tease, your voice muffled against his skin.
His exhale is shaky. "Y-you know Iâm not."
But you do know.
You know the way his breath stutters when you touch him like this, the way his pulse jumps under your lips when you linger just a second too long. You know the way his grip tightens when heâs trying not to pull you closer.
So you do it againâthis time, letting your teeth graze lightly, just to hear the sharp inhale he tries to stifle.
Sunghoon jolts, his arm flexing instinctively under your mouth. His grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging in just enough to make your stomach swoop.
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, and his eyes are dark, his lips parted, his chest rising just a little too fast.
âI felt your teeth right there âŚâ
"Sorry," you say, not sorry at all.
Sunghoon exhales, slow, his free hand coming up to tangle in your hair, fingertips scratching lightly at your scalp. "Youâre mean," he mutters, but his voice is thick, rough around the edges.
"First you ignore the documentary, then you come kiss me and bite meâ"
You do it again. Harder.
This time, his breath catches, a quiet, punched-out sound escaping him.
Sunghoon flinches, his whole body jerking beneath youâmuscles tensing, breath hitchingâand before you can even process it, his grip slips. Just barely, just enough to send you both tumbling off the couch in a tangle of limbs, landing in a heap on the floor.
The fall knocks the air from your lungs, but you barely feel it. Not when youâre half on top of him, your chest pressed flush against his, your face burning, your pulse hammering in your throat like itâs trying to escape.
Sunghoon blinks up at you, dazed, his lips slightly parted, his dark hair mussed from the fall.
The dim glow from the TV flickers across his face, catching the curve of his cheekbone, the faint sheen on his lower lip where heâd bitten it earlier.
And then he laughsâsoft and breathless, his chest shaking beneath yours, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like heâs afraid youâll pull away.
âYouââ He lifts a hand, rubbing at the faint red mark youâve left on his bicep, his grin lazy, molten. âYou marked me.â
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. âDidnât mean to.â
âLiar,â he says again, but thereâs no bite to itâjust that same rough-edged fondness, the kind that makes your stomach tighten. His fingers trail up your spine, slow and deliberate, sending shivers skittering across your skin. âYouâve been eye-fucking my arms since I came out of the bathroom.â
You could argue.
Instead, you press your lips to the mark againâlingering this time, letting your tongue dart out to soothe the sting, just to feel the way his breath stutters.
And in an unprecedented fashion, you travel your lips damply onto his armsâguiding it thoroughly until your reach collarbone, his jaw, and eventually, his parted lips.
Sunghoon shudders, his fingers tightening in your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. âFuck,â he whispers, his voice rougher now, darker. âDo that again.â
So you doâthis time with teeth.
He gasps, his hips jerking beneath you, and suddenly his hand is on your waist, flipping you over with barely any effort, pressing you into the floor.
All he had was a dominating form on top of your waist, his chest heaving, and his pupils blown so wide his irises are nearly swallowed by black.
âYou,â he breathes, leaning down until his lips brush against yoursâclose enough that you can taste the mint on his tongue, the sweetness of the energy drink heâd gulped down earlier.
ââare dangerous.â
You grin up at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his arms, the swell of his biceps, the way his muscles tense under your touch. âYou love it.â
Sunghoon exhales, shaky, his nose bumping against yours. âYeah,â he admits, voice rough.
âI do.â
And then he kisses youâdeep and passionate, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands gripping your chest down to your shoulders, like heâs afraid youâll disappear.
His body presses you into the floor, solid and unyielding, and you pull him down closer without thinking, chasing the heat of his skin, feeling his tantalizing weight gripping you down tightly.
When he finally pulls back, his lips are red, his breathing uneven.
âMore âŚâ he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, smudging the wetness there.
âPleaseâŚâ
And you donât even argue.
ENâD
đ˛ ŕšŕŁ ŕŁŞ ËâŚâË kai's notes â ASKFJKAJSFKLAE!!! yes im a freak for his arms bro have you seen?! him !? flexing it?! ever since i saw him being all proud of it since paradox i was like ⌠fuck you have GOT to be kidding me WHAT THE HELL!! so yeah, here it is ⌠me just writing how it owuld feel to just .. have this man like be with you so warm like RAAAAA and it won the poll so don't judge me YOU'RE THE SAME !?!
my masterlist! | made by writhyv đ
pairing: niki x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: drinking, implied stuff regarding drinking, implied stuff done by people when they encounter those who are wasted from drinking ...
Do you know that feeling when you meet someone so pretty it hurts your eyes a bit, and tugs your heart, and you feel like you're going to burst down in flames altogether where you stood? That's how exactly how you'll feel when someone just comes your way, being their cute little self.
"I'm tired." You sighed heavily as you rearranged the papers stacked neatly in front of you. It had already been a minute since you fiddled with them, not that you paid any attention to it anyway.
"Come on! Itâs not like the end of the world if you tried getting out, right?" Thea, one of your co-workers, playfully tapped your back as she urged you to try another round of her matchmaking. To be honest, you had no confidence in getting anyone to date you with these blind dates. You just felt pity for your friend, however it may seem.
"I guess third time's a charm?" France, your other co-worker, leaned beside your desk. "You have to stop at some point, though. Itâs still meeting strangers."
*Sigh.* Obviously, you sighed again.
"Fine, I'll go." You raised your hands in mock surrender. "But just because I don't want you to be sad, Thea."
"Yey! But itâs not for me; itâs for you!" Thea cheered. "Itâs just one guy! Weâll have no idea if you donât try now."
"Just be careful," France spoke, a hint of concern lacing his words as your friend. "The last time I saw youâ"
"That was a mistake, France." You stood up quickly, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "I should've just said no. Yet I insisted and got into some mess that you had to be called to rescue me. I still owe you for that."
France laughed quickly at this. "Pssh, it wasn't anything. You're my friend. Itâs my job to look out for you."
"Uh-huh," Thea butted in, trying to suppress her laughter.
"Shut up, little person," France retorted quickly. "Best be on your way; I heard this guy booked you at 8."
"Yup! Just be on the dot!" Thea added, walking closer to you as you moved toward the elevator doors.
"Are they any better than the first guy?" you asked, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this guy might be worth a shot this time.
Thea laughed. "They will!"
"I'll hold you to that." You smirked as you saw the elevator doors open.
"Update us!" Thea waved as France settled behind her to see you off.
"Sure thing," you spoke as the elevator doors began to close.
The chime rang, and the shaft glided down the office floors you had grown accustomed to over the past year. Quickly getting a job after graduation had been a breeze, but all the things you had to do after that were another story. Living alone in the city was a hassle, especially with your bossâs constant demands since you were a new hire. It was probably because of your talent for working a little too hard that you might be a teensy bit gullible at this point, but oh well... It pays. So you might as well.
As for love, you never really had one. Not that it didn't interest you, but rather, you had waited for it, and it never came. You had never entertained anyone, but who would court someone as plain and boring as you? You worked hard enough to be buried in files and stacks of paperwork, so you never thought anyone would understand you on that level.
In some terms, you had given up already. But right now, it wasnât the case. Right now, you were being given chances to see people. You never really had a preference for who to go out withâbasically any type. You just wanted someone to look your way, and maybe it would spark that flame inside you too.
On your way to the bar, you saw a large sign on the side of a fancy-looking establishment. It read 'Retro Palace.' Not that it was important, but it sounded really generic. Instead of wallowing in the dilemma of the establishment's name, you stepped inside to see crowds of people. There was no way you could properly do a blind date in a place like this. Plus, you were never a club person. In fact, you hated parties and events that needed crowds. But maybe this was worth a shot. Maybe?
As you entered, you sliced through the middle of the pool of people, who were doing all kinds of things: dancing, shouting, conversing, and more. There was definitely a vibe that every person inside that place exuded.
You remembered you were supposed to go to the second floor, a platform dedicated to dining and feeling a lot more relaxed than the ground floor mess you were in. You spotted it clearly in the distance. A spiral staircase led to the top, where a small luxurious bar sat between rows of fine seats that could cater to just about anyone.
Feeling fancy, you adjusted your attire. It wasnât your favorite combo, but you couldnât refuse a gift from your co-worker. The suit was tight, and the colors didnât really match your face. In any case, it still looked good with the way you carried it, but wearing it was definitely another case entirely.
As you tried to find the best seat, your phone rang. To your surprise, it was your supposed date.
"Oh, hey! I'm here." You smiled as you answered quickly.
"Yup, I can see you from where I'm sitting," the other person chuckled over the line, seemingly already inside the establishment.
"Oh? Where?" You turned to your sides to find the mysterious date.
"The nearest table to the bar. To your left." You squinted again to your left and found a guy standing and waving his hand. Looks like youâre in for a good night.
Although walking closer, it didnât seem to click. As much as he was good-looking, there wasn't that connection you were hoping to find. It felt... odd. Maybe it was just the norm since you had never met this guy before. The night was still young.
As the guy opened up a seat for you, you thanked him for the gesture and settled in comfortably. He introduced himself.
"Hi! I'm Chang. You must be?"
"Yup, in the flesh," you nodded. Whoever Thea had connections with, she sure had many. This was the second guy she referred to, but it did seem she had a whole collection up her sleeve of people to refer. It seemed... concerning. But that was for another day.
The conversation started light, but as the minutes passed, you felt the disconnect grow. Chang had a pleasant demeanor, but your mind wandered. You were trying to connect, but something felt off.
âHave you been to any other places like this?â he asked, taking a sip of his drink.
âNot really. I prefer quieter spots,â you replied, feeling a mix of anxiety and discomfort.
âAh, come on! You gotta live a little!â Chang laughed, but it felt forced, like he was trying too hard.
As you looked around, a waiter walked near and handed you two drinks. Chang clasped his hands around yours and served it on his own.
"Here. Got you a fine mix for the night. On me." Chang smiled broadly as he mixed your drink with the straw it came with. That was... a gesture for sure. You could only smile so wearily.
Chang then raised his drink and moved closer to you.
"To more chances of seeing your handsome face up close. Cheers." His eyes meticulously focused on you, prompting chills down your spine. Was this what real nerves were supposed to feel like? Or just cringe?
"Sure. Cheers." You could have never said that more tiredly. Almost doing it all for the sake of finishing the date, you drank the mix in one go. Chang's eyes widened at your action, but he nevertheless still enjoyed watching you unravel little by little.
As you took another sip from your glass, you felt the warmth intensifying, the drink beginning to take effect. The tension that had settled in your shoulders began to ease, and you found yourself laughing at Chang's jokes, even if they werenât particularly funny.
âAlright, letâs play a game,â Chang suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. âTwo truths and a lie! Iâll go first.â
You leaned in closer, intrigued despite yourself. The game had a way of breaking the ice, and at this moment, you needed a distraction from the gnawing feeling of disconnect. Chang quickly rattled off his statements, and you found yourself engaged, playing along.
As the minutes turned into hours, you began to notice something unsettling about Chang. His laughter felt a bit too loud, his gestures a bit too exaggerated, and the way he leaned in closer made you feel uneasy. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to the atmosphere of the bar and the alcohol coursing through your veins.
âAnother round?â Chang asked, his smile wide and inviting.
âWhy not?â you said, raising your glass, feeling more adventurous than ever. You downed your drink, the sensation of the alcohol igniting a fire within you that you hadnât expected. You weren't really a big fan of drinking, but when you did, you always tended to go all out.
But as the night wore on, the laughter grew quieter, and your surroundings began to shift. The edges of your vision blurred, and the sounds around you became muffled. You could sense the growing warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.
âHey, I think I need a breather,â you mumbled, standing up unsteadily. The room swayed slightly, and Chang reached out to steady you, a predatory glint in his eyes.
âLetâs step outside for a bit,â he suggested, guiding you toward the exit. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, but it couldnât chase away the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach.
âFeeling good?â Chang asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you could see the way his eyes roamed over you, making your skin crawl.
âUh, yeah, just⌠need some fresh air,â you replied, trying to put some distance between you.
âCome on, donât be shy. You know you had fun tonight,â he said, his tone dripping with false charm. âWhy donât we continue this party just the two of us?â
Your heart raced as you realized the implications of his words. âI think I should really be going,â you said, attempting to step back.
But Chang blocked your path, his expression shifting from playful to something darker. âOh, come on. Youâre not going to leave me hanging after all this fun, are you?â His gaze lingered a little too long, and the way he reached out to brush a stray hair behind your ear sent shivers down your spine.
âSeriously, I need to go,â you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.
âJust relax,â he said, his smile widening unnaturally as he leaned closer. âWe can have a lot more fun. Just you and me.â
The panic set in, and before you could respond, the world around you began to blur again. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you down into darkness.
âHey, donât you want to have a good time?â Changâs voice echoed in yoĚľu̸r̡ ̸mĚľi̸nĚśd̡ Ěśa̡sĚ´ ̡eĚśvĚśe̸r̡y̡tĚ´hĚľi̸n̸gĚś ̸f̡aĚľdĚľe̡dĚľ ĚśtĚ´oĚś ĚśbĚ´l̸aĚ´c̸kĚ´.̡
Your eyes jolted awake, blinking against the sunlight streaming through a window. The air smelled of something deliciousâbacon and eggs? As you looked around, a weight shifted, seemingly on top of you, and you looked down to find a small, fluffy dog staring intently at you.
Strange... It was a dog you vaguely recognized, who tilted his head, his big eyes full of curiosity. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, the dog's innocent demeanor contrasting sharply with the confusion swirling in your mind.
As you took in your surroundings, you realized you were in an unfamiliar room. The cozy space was decorated with simple but charming furnishings that felt oddly welcoming. The faint sound of sizzling came from the kitchen nearby.
âYou're awake. That's good.â A calm voice called from that direction. You turned to see a figure moving about, clearly busy preparing breakfast.
âUh, morning?â you managed to reply, your voice still thick with sleep.
âYou must be hungry. You really knocked back those drinks last night.â A young man with a relaxed demeanor approached, holding a plate full of food.
Your heart sank slightly, memories of the previous night flooding back but feeling scattered and muddled. You recalled laughter, games, and warmth, but something about the night felt off, like a detail on the tip of your tongue that you couldnât quite grasp.
"Wait... You're..."
"Not the guy you were with last night? Definitely." The young man smirked. "I'm Nishimuâ I mean, just Ni-ki is fine."
You tilted your head, curious as to who this man was. He looked too young, too bright, and well ... too handsome. He only wore a grey tank top, exposing his bare arms that were a bit defined. Not that it mattered, he was in the comfort of his own home anyway. His eyes were sharp, but not piercing through you. Instead, they were filled with simple concern. As he sat next to you, he brushed stray hair from your face. With the way he treated you, you couldn't help but feel a light warmth buzzing over your cheeks. That was certainly... a reaction.
âDid I⌠did I spend the night here?â you asked cautiously, looking around as you distracted yourself from the thought you just had.
Ni-ki shrugged, his expression steady and thoughtful. âYeah, you were out cold when we got back. I couldnât just leave you on the street. You were shivering all over here. Bisco was worried, you know?â
You glanced at Bisco, who had jumped off the bed and was now wagging his tail happily, oblivious to your unease. "Oh... That's a nice name."
"Thanks..." "..." "Oh, you meant the dog? Cool. Cool, cool."
â...but thank you.â You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. âAlso, I donât really remember much after stepping outside.â
âThings can get a bit wild sometimes,â Ni-ki said, his tone calm but with an underlying sense of understanding. âYou seemed like you were having fun, but itâs always good to be careful.â
Your heart raced as unease gripped you tighter. You felt trapped in a moment that should have been carefree, with Biscoâs warm presence only slightly comforting against the growing realization that something was very wrong.
oooh! cliffhanger! woo! hopefully i get to write more hehe. also ... niki ... đĽşđ more stories? check out my masterlist
would you kiss me? | sim jaehyun x male!reader
pairing: jake x male!reader
genre: fluff
words: 2.5k
notes: HE'S BACK!! honestly wrote this down because I was feeling hella lovey dovey towards jaehyun man ... hope you guys like it!!
Bad. This is bad.
Why do you suddenly feel guilty? Of all the people you could feel guilty for, itâs that airhead jock who has been pestering your head ever since that day at the school fair.
âItâs literally been a week.â Your best friend, Sunoo, perched his head on his knuckles and took a good look at your currently miserable disposition. âI can feel the negative vibes just emanating from deep within that soul of yours.â
You shot a weird look at Sunoo, who smiled slyly back at you. âSunoo, youâre not a witch.â
âMight as well be!â He rolled his eyes, flapping his hands dramatically in the air. âI want to know why my best friend is all bothered by... someone like Jake!â
You shoved your hands over Sunoo's mouth to quiet him. âShh!â You raised your finger quickly.
âMGLPHHRPMHRLPMHR!!!â Sunoo muffled through your fingers, but within seconds, he inhaled deeply and threw your hands off his mouth. âUGH! Your hands are NOT good teethers, okay?â
You tilted your head at his remark. âTeethers? Are you a child?â You giggled.
âMY POINT ?!?â Sunoo raised his brows. âIs that you can take your hands back away from my face! I donât care if weâre bestiesâTHAT stays OFF my face.â
You couldnât help but laugh at Sunoo's outburst, though he couldnât ignore it either.
âSee, thereâs that smile!â Sunoo cheered for a moment. âAll it takes is for you to smear my chapstick, eugh.â
You took a gentle pause before bearing that unfathomable gaze yet again.
âItâs just... I told him he was aââ
âA weirdo. Right?â
âY-yeah.â
Sunoo looked at you, searching for the perfect sentence to speak at that moment. âIt happens. Sometimes we blurt out things. And I know you; youâre very blunt about stuff. Canât help yourself even if you tried.â
âLike you?â
âLike yoâEUGH!â Sunoo playfully shoved you. âListen to me!â
Propping up your posture, this time, you looked at Sunoo with a serious gaze.
âHe probably felt... nothing about it.â Sunoo advised gently. âReally.â
You sighed, feeling neither comforted nor pacified.
âI know Jake.â Sunoo smiled. âHeâs a bit of a loser, but he never fails to give up the fight. Heâs a captain for a reason.â
You heard your best friend's advice yet could only dwell on the scenarios playing in your head. Sunoo sighed heavily, knowing you were still overthinking.
âLook, if youâre REALLY bothered by it...â Sunoo thought aloud. âGo talk to him, no?â
You looked at Sunoo, incredulous.
âMe? Going toââ
âDO NOT give me that crap. You heard me.â He rolled his eyes.
You scratched your head as you pondered. Can you really toughen up and apologize for words you had thrown away? Or would you live with the thought that hypothetically, Jake might be resenting you because of what you said?
All these thoughts flooded your mind, troubling you as you navigated the best way to prove you were truly sorry.
âIs this really the only way?â You spoke to yourself as you entered the sports wing.
You were in your campus's sports wing, beating yourself up with words and lines to say to that airheadâtowards Jake. You felt sorry, and if you were in his shoes, you wouldâve dug a grave for whoever told you something so heinous. At least, thatâs where your imagination led you.
âHeâs not gonna throw me out, is he...â You asked yourself, still pacing around the building.
Silence surrounded you at that moment. It was already nighttime, and the students occupying the space had likely gone home.
âThey did say he stays late... but am I too late?â You continued talking as if you had someone with you. This was definitely just a way to cope with the loneliness of being in a big building at night.
As you looked around, an ominous feeling crept at the back of your mind. Of course, this place gave you goosebumps. It was clichĂŠ, but who says a quiet building at night can't be creepy?
Walking around, you finally reached that one room you were hoping to see. Or not. It depended on whether you were actually looking forward to seeing Jake insideâ
â... is Locker Room D.â You heard a booming voice coated with a thick layer of echoing bass down the hall.
Feeling your legs stiffen gradually, you tried hard to hide behind the large door, waiting to see if anyone was there with you. If it was Jake, you wouldâve stayed put until you were set to speak to him. If it was anyone else, though... you had to run.
Why? Because it might just be a completely different situation. Thieves, perpetrators ... it could be anyone.
âD? No wonder they get quick baths. They have the power showers over here.â Another heckling voice echoed through the hall. It was clear that it wasnât just Jake or anyone you knew.
âNot the point, Trell. We have to get that losers' lucky charm.â The loud booming voice you heard earlier stepped closer.
âYou still believe in lucky charms?â
âJake hasnât lost any match since he got here.â
They... don't sound nice, do they?
âWe just gotta see what makes him tick.â The loud voice expressed his thoughts. âI canât keep losing to an amateur.â
"He's been captain for two years."
"I've been kicking goals for my whole life, dimwit." The louder voice sounded really agitated. Particularly with Jake's skills.
Clearly, this wasnât on your agenda today. An attempted break-in for... a lucky charm? It wasnât even that funny, but you couldnât help but laugh. Why would these soccer players rely on something so trivial? And why did it matter if it made someone good or not? You just couldnât wrap your head around that thought.
âPfft...â
Shoot.
âHuh?â The larger voice turned his head toward the door.
âYou!â The other voice shouted as he saw your figure.
With your nerves racking, you flicked on your flashlight and pointed it toward the two guys in front of you.
âAAACK!â The bigger guy flinched as you aimed the light directly at his eyes.
âHey!â The smaller guy grabbed your arm. In your surprise, you couldâve sworn you screamed loud enough for every student in the building to hear. With a blunt hit of the flashlightâs end, you struck the smaller guy, and he winced at your action.
âDammit, blinding me and shit!â The bigger guy stumbled backward.
âDash for it, Bush! Now!â The smaller one pulled the big guy out of your sight as they ran away. You could only watch their shadows fade into the darkness. A loud sigh escaped your lips as you slumped onto the ground.
âAW!â You yelped as you slumped awkwardly. You scraped your back against the hard edge of the locker bench and hit your head on a nearby locker.
Itching in pain, you rubbed your back gently. You gritted your teeth before remembering what you had come for.
âKAMCHAGIYA!â You heard a loud voice behind you, only to find the most unexpected sight of your life.
It was Jake, rubbing a fresh towel on his wet hairâcomplemented by a half-naked towel tuck, showcasing the proud figure he worked so hard for.
âW-whaââ You felt an embarrassing warmth wash over you. You quickly covered your cheeks with both hands.
âYou?!â Jake stood frozen, realizing who you were in an instant.
The silence between the two of you was palpable. No words were exchanged at that moment. Nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioning and the thoughts lingering in both your heads.
For some time now, Jake had often been lost in his thoughts, pondering that particular day at the kissing booth. Heâd felt something shift in him since that kiss. It was confusing, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. He hadnât expected to feel so drawn to you, and now, standing in front of you, he couldnât shake the feeling of vulnerability.
He always admired you from afar, being the acting president and caring for everyone who needed help inside the school - he just wasn't expecting to fall this hard for you. So hard he could practically die from embarrassment just having every type of thought about you.
âIââ You tried to stand up immediately, still rubbing your back from earlier. âI came here and saw people!â
Catching his attention, Jake walked closer to you ever so slowly, his heart racing.
âPeople?â Jake continued to rub the towel on his head. âThose werenât just my imagination earlier?â
âThe what?â
âThe screams? Little âAhsâ and some big shrieks sprinkled in between.â
âOh...â You followed his train of thought. âYeah.â
Jake then walked past you and headed to the other side of the aisle, opening his locker. âWhat was it about? I wasnât aware there would be people here. I always close down the gym during this time.â
As he changed, Jake couldnât help but admire how the moonlight wrapped around your face, casting a soft glow that highlighted your features. Heâd never seen you like thisâvulnerable and anxious, yet determined.
You were captivating. He was smitten.
Then, memories of that kiss filled his head, making him flinch internally. He hoped you didnât regret it. It was a moment he cherished, and he wanted to explore what it meant for both of you.
âACHK!â Thinking about the same incident, you couldn't help but flinch at the thought.
Jake looked back at you, his heart racing as he applied some cream to his face. âHuh?â
âIâ I mean!â You coughed. âThey were sneaking in here, and all I heard was them talking about... taking some lucky charm from you... I think?â
Jake took his time changing into his clean clothes, then looked slowly toward you, curious about your reaction. âLucky charm?â
You paused, then tried to giggle. âY-yeah. I mean... who still has lucky charms, right? Rabbit's foot, four-leaf cloversââ
âIt's probably my sneakers.â Jake spoke plainly, the sincerity in his voice surprising even himself. He noticed how your eyes lit up with intrigue, and it gave him a rush of confidence.
âYour... sneakers?â You walked closer to him, and he could see the curiosity in your eyes.
âYeah. My lucky sneaks.â Jake smiled. âThat's what I call them. Had them since I got here.â
âO-oh...â You nodded, and Jake felt a swell of affection for you. This made him all the more guilty about what he had done.
âHere they are.â He bent down to bring out what he was talking aboutâhis lucky sneakers. It was a rugged pair that had already suffered some wear, yet somehow felt cared for, with Jake even patting the shoes affectionately.
Looking at them, you seemed to ponder deeply, and he couldnât help but wonder what you were thinking.
âItâs just a rugged pair, you must be thinking.â Jake smiled. âYeah?â
âHm.â You considered it. âBut there has to be more to it. Someone gave it to you?â
âRight!â Jake beamed at your answer. âMy mom got me these. She said she wanted me to wear them when I got onto the soccer team.â
The warmth in your expression made Jakeâs heart flutter. It felt good to share this piece of himself with you, and he could see the softening of your demeanor as well.
âSheâs a riot, right? Clearly, these arenât for playing out in the field.â He chuckled. âBut they feel hella more comfortable than my other shoes, so I wear them like that instead.â
The silence enveloped you once more. Fidgeting with the flashlight in your hand, you couldnât take it anymore and spoke your mind.
âIâm sorry.â You both spoke simultaneously.
âHuh?â âWhat?â
âI was just gonnaââ âWhy were youââ
âOkay, enough.â You raised your hand. âWhy would you say that?â You looked at Jake, and he felt a rush of vulnerability wash over him.
Jake ran his hand through his hair again, trying to steady himself. âI made you feel uncomfortable, right?â Jake glanced away, his expression growing serious. âThe kiss... I was a bit too pushy for that.â
You looked bewildered, and he felt a pang of guilt.
An apology. He was apologizing. Of all the people who couldâve given it, it was him. And for a stupid reason too. For a kiss.
For a kiss that had meant so much to him.
âIt... wasnât that bad.â You stumbled over your words, almost shyly.
Jake's eyes shot up in your direction, surprise laid on his features. âYouâre sayingââ
âI mean!â You tried to defend yourself. âIt couldâve been better, sure, butââ
Jakeâs eyes widened, and a smirk crept onto his sly face. He couldnât help but feel a rush of hope at your words.
âLook, I was going to apologize for saying youâre a weirdo, okay?â You sighed quickly and fixed your falling hair. âBecause I didnât think too much of it and I realized I wasn't in a position to say that about someone. That, and I didnât want to hurt your feelings.â
âWhy?â Jake asked, genuinely curious.
Right. Why were you concerned about his feelings?
âW-why?â You stammered.
âYeah.â Jake smiled again, his heart racing. âWhy would you care if I what, resented you over a throwaway line?â
âB-because...â You struggled to articulate your thoughts, and he could see the conflict in your eyes.
Jake just looked at you, eyes pleading for an honest answer.
âBecause I didnât want you to get the impression that I hate you.â You spoke with conviction, precise and to the point.
Jake smiled back, genuinely happy. âI wasnât going to,â he exclaimed with enthusiasm. âIn fact, I was still going to pursue youâno matter what.â
âBut⌠Iâm a guy,â you said, trying to relay your concern.
Jake tilted his head to the side, his smile widening. âAnd? Do I give off that impression? Iâm not ignorant, am I?â
You looked away from him, overwhelmed. It felt surreal.
âCome to our game tomorrow.â His unique voice rang through your ears.
You turned your head toward him, shooting a confused look. âHuh? You mean the big qualifying match tomorrow?â
âYeah.â Jake nodded, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. âPlease?â
You looked away for a bit, while Jake bore a look of both fear and hope.
âIf you donât come, no big deal.â Jake mumbled. âI can stop doing this, and you can go back to being a good president.â
You fiddled with your fingers, your hesitation palpable.
âAnd if you do, well...â Jake smiled, his heart racing as he leaned in slightly. âIâm assuming youâre interested.â
You couldnât help but blush at that, warmth overtaking your cheeks. If you were in a different settingâlike a sunny park, perhapsâyou wouldâve definitely been beet red in front of him.
âSo ... you donât hate me.â You tried to maintain your composure.
âNo.â Jake put his hands in his pockets, closing the distance between you. âYou could say Iâm liking you even more now.â
Bad. This is bad.
Youâre actually falling in love.
HEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! THE BOY!!!! also tagging @kaiyunsim again so they see this JKASHFJKSHFJKF
ALSO had to change the title ... i was not feeling the grammar nor the vibes ... đđď¸
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u got texts // drabbles | nishimura riki x male!reader
pairing: ni-ki x male!reader
genre: fluff
notes: just wanted to write this down because i was bombarded with ni-ki memes in my pinterest ... i love his expressive face sm đ
funny_ki.png
cutie HDSAJFHUASFAS hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~
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made by writhyv.
would you kiss me? | sim jaehyun x male!reader
pairing: jake x male!reader
genre: fluff, highschool!au
words: 2.8k
notes: i have been falling faster for jake these past few weeks so I just had to write this down ... i hope you guys appreciate jake as much as i do đđđ
"Is he sleeping?" Joey moved an inch closer as she finally got to her seat.
"Ugh, don't even ask me." Sunoo rolled his eyes as he grabbed a hot corndog from Joey's hand. "He's been like that since he got here."
Clearly, Joey had brought some goods from the snack stands, and she took a good look at your figure again.
"Are you sick or som-?"
"I'm not!" You defended, your voice barely above a whisper. "Shh!"
"Sir, did you just 'shush' me?!" Joey acted mock-offended, settling into her seat with some force.
"I think he did." Sunoo smirked, looking at you with a devious side-eye.
"Ugh, what are you two on about now..." You continued to shrink yourself in your seat, trying to blend into the crowd.
"Take that off!" Joey grabbed the large overcoat you'd wrapped around your body.
"Ah!" You yelped, clutching the coat tightly.
"Ugh, about time!" Sunoo raised his hand for a high-five, and Joey reciprocated with a grin.
"Hey!" You spoke, looking at your two best friends. "Are you two ganging up on me?"
The two snickered, their eyes gleaming with amusement.
"He's totally mad." Joey whispered.
"He's definitely fuming." Sunoo spoke quietly.
"I'm still here!" You tried to pinch their ears, earning yelps from both.
"Ow ow, let it go!" Joey spoke, squirming away.
"Ahh! You!!!" Sunoo tried to remove your finger before you let him go.
"Now, are you two finished?" You crossed your arms, grabbing your overcoat from Joey.
Sunoo retreated to his seat, rubbing the part of his ear you'd pinched. Joey shot you an obvious question.
"So Jake-?"
"AAAAAAA!" You interrupted, clearly in a situation.
"Don't even." Sunoo spoke, waving his hand dismissively.
Joey looked at Sunoo, then back at you. She observed you and knew immediately what was going on.
"Oh, you two talked, didn't you?" Joey looked at you, her intuition sparking.
Sunoo sat up and gasped. "You did?!"
"H-how d-?"
"Mr. ACTING president, I can literally tell what you're all about right now." Joey smugly raised her chin towards you, pointing to the field. "It's obvious you like hi-?"
"AAAAA!!!" You tried to scream, covering your ears.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic!" She spoke.
"But he doesn't want to admit it." Sunoo took a good look at you, shaking his head earnestly. He couldn't take it anymore. "Honestly."
"I just!" You tried to speak. "Why m... me? Argh!"
The two looked at you, then at each other.
"That's what you're worried about?" Joey shot you an almost indignant look. "For real?!"
"He's having a crisis." Sunoo inhaled deeply. "He thinks Jake's just messing with him."
"That or he's being genuine." Joey adjusted herself in her seat. "You can tell he's trying to impress you."
And you couldn't help but agree. For all the times you'd encountered Jake, he'd always tried. One way or another, he was trying his best to get your attention.
And now, he definitely had your gaze.
"I'm just..." You shrunk in your seat again. "I'm just a guy, you know?"
"Oh, shut it and be confident!" Sunoo pulled you out of your chair, forcing you to cooperate unwillingly. "And sit properly; you're the ACTING school council president!"
"Aaaaaargghhh..." You groaned. That's all you could do.
And now, you couldn't take him off your mind. Especially that golden smile he seemed so proud to show off in front of you.
Joey, knowing you were feeling overwhelmed by these new emotions, tried to settle you down.
"Listen, if you can't bear the Jake-ness of it all-?"
"The what?"
"The Jake-ness."
"Oh. Psh." Sunoo retorted.
"What?" Joey looked at him.
"Continue." Sunoo flapped his hand dismissively.
"Okay, anyways... You should try and distract yourself with the game right now. The committee didn't elect you to just do nothing, right?" Joey tapped your back, letting you breathe for a second.
That's right. You were tasked and obliged to attend the game as the ACTING student council president. It wasn't a big deal to get in as yourself, but people were paying close attention as you did your duties. You sat up straight, realizing this. You weren't just here for one reason.
"That's right..." You sighed. "I'm weird, aren't I?"
"We know." The two shared the same sentiment.
"Hey!" You pouted. "You're not supposed to agree with that."
"But you're our weirdo." Sunoo smiled.
"So be weird all you like. Mister Weirdo." Joey poked your cheek, rolling your eyes.
In a way, it comforted you. To have these friends by your side. But of course, they couldn't help you take Jake off your mind. They even seem supportive of it ... too supportive even. You tried to relax your back on the leather covered seat, waiting for the game to start.
Suddenly, the whistles were blown. That was the sign of the teams' entrance for the championship.
In this match, whoever won would make it to the state championships. Calling it a big deal was an understatement. It was a HUGE deal. Especially since the opposing team was supposedly stronger than in previous years.
"And ladies and gentlemen, let's welcome them to the stage. Last and not least, the Peterson Saints!" A loud roar erupted from your side of the field. As much as this was your home court, the crowd couldn't help but yell their hearts out, seeing their pride and honor.
And there he was, beaming with his golden smileâJake Sim. The Prodigy of the Ages, The Golden Ace, and the MVP for the 3rd consecutive year. All those monickers and titles bore his achievements and qualifications. He was truly something special.
Yet you could look at him with such a look. Out of all the people in this world, this one? This lucky guy who deserved a better person was in love with you? You had to laugh.
Why couldn't you believe that maybe this was the universe appreciating you? All these thoughts lingered in your head.
As if by chance, Jake spotted you quickly and smiled wide, waving his hand. Clearly, he'd expected to see you. He was beyond excited to have you there.
And that broke you. You could only smile back and wave, feeling chills down your spine. He really did want you to see him.
He eyes-locked with you, as if saying, "Watch me." And that you did.
The Peterson Saints took their positions on the field, and the game began. The opposing team, the Ironclad Titans, was known for their aggressive plays and solid defense. Jake, as the captain, called out plays to his teammates, his voice clear and confident. The crowd roared as the game started, and the energy on the field was electric.
"Keep them grounded, we can't let them breach us early!" Jake commanded, his teammates getting into their positions.
The first half was intense. The Titans were relentless, pushing the Saints to their limits. Jake, however, was a force to be reckoned with. He dodged tackles with ease, his movements fluid and calculated. But despite his efforts, the Saints were struggling to keep up. The Titans' defense was impenetrable, and by halftime, they were leading by a significant margin.
While halftime was up, Jake noticed one of his teammates, Bush, flipping over like a pillow in the middle of the field, or at least, that's what he was acting like.
"Bush, you good?" Jake panted, reaching out his hand towards the other.
"Get a life." Bush swatted Jake's hand, standing up by himself.
Jake couldn't just react then and there, but that really felt awful. Still, he has to go, and so he did.
As the teams headed to the locker rooms, tensions ran high. Jake's teammates were frustrated, and some were on the verge of giving up. That's when two of the players, Bush and Trell, started undermining Jake's tactics, blaming him for their poor performance. They accused him of being too selfish and not trusting his teammates enough, even though at best, they themselves couldn't really contribute anything on the field at all.
"You were hogging the ball!" Trell shouted. "Or worse, passing it down to these newbies!"
"He was trying to get it to score, you dumbass!" Another teammate seemingly defended Jake's actions, with more agreeing in unison.
"Well, we don't see it that way!" Bush stands tall, trying to put some intimidation onto the others. "Buttering yourself up for another win?"
One of Jake's teammates ultimately wanted to punch the guy, but Jake stopped him as soon as he lifted his fist.
"No," Jake mouthed.
Ever the leader, Jake didn't let their negativity get to him. He listened calmly, then addressed the team with a steady voice.
"We can do this," he said. "We just need to work together. Trust each other, and trust the plays. We've trained for this."
His words inspired the team, and they returned to the field with renewed determination. The second half was a completely different story.
The Saints fought back with everything they had. Jake led the charge, making incredible plays and encouraging his teammates. The crowd was on their feet, cheering wildly as the Saints slowly closed the gap.
"GO SAINTS GO!! GO SAINTS GO!! GO SAINTS GO!!" The crowd erupted in glorious cheers. Even you couldn't help but get your voice louder at the sound of it.
And Jake? One glance at your cheers was all he needed for a boost. The way your eyes closed as you tried to shout their team's cheer louder, or the way your voice was definitely getting higher as nerves almost popped from your neck, or even how excited you are jumping around and cheering for them? That was heaven for him, just to see you support and appreciate all of his and his team's hard work.
He loved that. And he loved you too.
"Good job, Saints!" Jake cheered with his hands towards his teammates. The others responded with the same sentiment, those closer to each other patting backs and hyping each other.
In the final minutes of the game, the score was neck and neck. The tension was palpable. Jake had the ball, and the crowd held their breath as he made his way down the field. With seconds left on the clock, he lined up for the final shot. The Titans' defense was tight, but Jake was unfazed.
"One ball..." Jake took a deep breath.
He looked closely at the goal, seemingly trying to get the aim at this second.
"One goal." He took his one last millisecond, inching away at the true kick.
With a swift, powerful motion, he released the ball. Time seemed to slow as it soared through the air, heading straight for the goal.
The crowd erupted into cheers as the ball scored, securing the Saints' victory. Jake was mobbed by his teammates, and the crowd chanted his name.
He'd done it againâthe Golden Ace had proven his worth.
As the Saints celebrated their win, Jake spotted you in the distance. He mouthed, "I won!" with a wide, triumphant smile.
"You did!" You mouthed back, pride swelling in your chest.
"Thank you for coming." He mouthed again. "Backstage?"
You tilted your head, wondering what he meant. There was an area within the field called the backstage, where players and teams rested before the game. You nodded, knowing what he was implying.
"Okay!" You blushed slightly, wondering if this was something normal.
"Yeah!" Jake mouthed, before being carried away by his team.
You could only laugh as you left slowly, your best friends chuckling behind you.
"You two are seriously gonna be something else." Sunoo walked beside you.
"Definitely, I mean, that was too romantic." Joey spoke, walking backward in front of you.
"You guys, stop it." You chuckled. "I'm just proud. Nothing like that at all."
The two shot glances at you as you continued to walk.
"He's definitely into him now." Joey whispered.
"Don't tell me twice." Sunoo spoke, earning a hand chop to his shoulder.
As you took a seat on a nearby bench, you waited with bated breath for that one guy who'd led you here. The "backstage" wasn't a familiar sight, but it was large and extensive. Even the hallway was long enough to stretch across the field. It was a marvel at how lucky you were to study in this school.
"Glad you came."
"AAAAH!" Jake sprung up close, and you jolted in surprise. He flinched back, and you both laughed, cackling at the stupidity of the moment before calming down.
"Warn me next time!" You punched his shoulder playfully.
"Please! Your face was priceless." Jake continued to laugh, his hand on his face.
"Ugh, you!" You tried to speak, but the words failed to come out.
"You what?" Jake taunted with a smile.
"You..."
"Hmm?" Jake grinned.
"Stop it." You raised your hand.
"Stop what?"
"Stop doing this." You tried to walk back a bit, feeling bothered by the weather suddenly. That or by the temperature.
"Stop me from what?"
"Stop me fromâ"
Before you could finish, a warm kiss enveloped your lips. It was soft and comfortable, like a feeling of pure sweetness and loveâall in one. You couldn't even fight it, even if you tried. At this point, your lips had already remembered Jake's embrace. It was as if they'd already accepted his touch, and you couldn't help but say yes to the feeling of being close to him.
"Mhh..." Jake smiled as he pulled away, his lips lingering for a moment.
"Hahh..." You tried to catch your breath, and Jake giggled at the sight.
"What?" You asked him, still wrapped in his arms.
"It's just..." Jake looked to the side, then faced you again. "You didn't flinch this time."
You rolled your eyes, giving him a look. "I'm just appreciating you. Can't I be charitable?" Your tone soaking in hot sarcasm.
"And I appreciate it." Jake smiled back. "You! I mean ... totally you."
With the personal space between you practically gone, Jake couldn't help but ask.
"So... you want me to try?" Jake asked, a subtle questioning tone laced in his voice. He was still unsure if you were all in with the whole 'loving you back' thing.
You sighed heavily. "I didn't want to think about it, you know?"
"Huh?" Jake tilted his head.
"The way I feel. Deny it." You expressed your emotions, your face contorting into slight stress. "That I don't deserve someone as good as you."
Jake looked at you with disbelief, clearly taken aback. "Hey! I'm not that special."
"But!"
"I don't want you to care about me being ... something, okay? Yes, I do want to impress you, but I don't want that to scare you too." He held your hand.
"Sometimes, I long to hold someone rather than a trophy."
Your heart stung a bit at that. It felt like you were scared, but of course, you never just paid all your attention at anyone's achievements. You wanted to know the people beyond the surface. As much as you tried to not think of it, you knew just how hardworking Jake was, and you didn't want to interfere. But in this new light, you saw a deeper side of him.
You were seeing his real self. That he was willing for you to see it.
"Jake..." Your hands crept up to his shoulders, comforting him in a way.
"I want to date you. Eventually, love you too." Jake smiled. "I don't want these feelings to just go away because I've never felt so much in my life before."
You looked into his eyes. Seeing him being so earnest just ... melted you right then and there. It was a sight to behold.
"I want to love someone I can genuinely be with, without pretenses." Jake held your hands tighter. "And it doesn't matter if you're a guy who's got me going. Nothing changes."
Tears started flooding your eyes at that moment, with Jake noticing sooner. He then raised his gentle fingers to wipe them away.
"Look at you." Jake gazed at you lovingly. "Such a pretty man, no?"
You could only laugh, wiping your own tears yourself. "You too, Jake. You're too beautiful for this world."
"I am, huh?"
"Yup." You booped his pretty nose.
"Then..." He asked with a slight blush. "Would you kiss me?"
"Again?" You tried to scoff at him.
"Mhm." His puppy eyes. His damn puppy eyes...
"Okay..."
And in one final moment, you laid your lips onto his, lingering almost a second longer than before. This time, it was slow, easy, and a little bit lasting.
Jake took a good look at you once more and asked an important question.
"Are we dating now? Or should I just make you my boyfriend?" He asked bluntly.
"Pftt!" You laughed in front of him. "Already? We haven't even done anything!"
"Oh!" Jake pondered for a second. "Should we do 'that' then?"
You shot him a glance. "THAT?! Get yourself together! We just got to this point!"
"Got it, we'll chill for the moment." Jake agreed, his mouth hanging wide at that. "I'll prepare myself for it then." Clearly, he was still uneducated at how these things worked, being with someone he liked and all.
"So, be my boyfriend?" He muttered, his lips pursing through.
"Although I wouldn't mind, dating comes first." You spoke back.
"Got it." Jake nodded in gratitude. "Then boyfriend after."
"I mean ... If you're comfy, why not?" You replied. "I mean the boyfriend bit. If you're comfortable with it, just call me that right now."
"Okay!" Jake giggled at the thought. "I love you, my boyfriend~"
You rolled your eyes, feeling stupidly in love with this guy. Was this really true, or was he just putting on an act to disarm you? As if it really mattered. When he was hugging you tightly and you could feel every beat of his heart, you were definitely doing fine.
"I love you too, Jakey." You mumbled softly, reddening Jake's cheeks easily. He was totally caught off-guard with that nickname.
THAT WAS A RIDEEEEEE and like ... i love jake so much ... I WILL WRITE MORE OF HIM AAAAAAA
hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~
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made by writhyv.