⋆｡°✩ [ Ni-ki Ver. ] Texting Your Bf 'how Could You Even Love Me?'

him : a handsome dashing attractive charming guy

me : babygirl mmmhhh

ENHYPEN <돌박2일 - 홈커밍데이>

Photo Sketch 📸 - Jay

⋆｡°✩ your domestic boyfriend is here

fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.5k

notes: HAVE SOME JAY AWOOGAH *throws fic* i just felt like doing something domestic with him ... househusband jongseong fr

There's something truly special about sharing life with the one you love. Despite the challenges, together you strive to overcome every obstacle. Sometimes, all you need is a simple hug, a kiss, or perhaps a delightful dessert to lift your spirits.

"You call this an article? Hah?" His tone was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. Your boss was clearly furious about the piece you had just published.

"Thank goodness it hasn't been finalized! I can't believe I made you editor-in-chief!" he exclaimed, rising from his seat and storming out of the office, leaving you speechless.

It looked like there was nothing left to say. It was probably just the stress getting to him. You had tried to explain that the article was written from a specific perspective, but nothing seemed to resonate with him. Still, you shrugged it off; you understood his quirks.

Taking a deep, refreshing breath, you stepped out of the office. Your co-workers across the workspace awaited your return, curiosity etched on their faces as you entered the row of cubicles.

"Did he change hi—"

"He's on his way to the 23rd floor," you interrupted, addressing one of your anxious colleagues.

"Ugh, of course he is." She sighed, plopping back into her chair. "He doesn’t even review the articles properly! Should we change the title again?"

"That would be asking for a death sentence, wouldn’t it? This is the 25th time he’s rejected our title, and it’s just one article!" another co-worker chimed in as you settled into your own cubicle.

"Guys, you have to understand, he’s just a little preoccupied. The merger’s happening soon, and it’s been a bit chaotic for him," you explained while organizing your desk.

Your cubicle was adorned with collectible figurines and an overwhelming stack of paperwork. A broken fax machine sat on your desk, serving more as a paperweight than anything else. You checked your disheveled hair in a small mirror and quickly tidied up.

"Want a ride?" one of your co-workers offered.

"No thanks. I’m feeling a bit whimsical today," you replied with a smile.

Your colleagues exchanged knowing glances, trying to decipher your mood.

"Just make sure to stay safe. Might snow today," another co-worker warned.

"Thanks, I’ll keep an eye out," you said, shouldering your bag. You waved goodbye as you made your way to the exit, while they returned to their work.

Stepping outside, the chilly air wrapped around you. The months were getting cooler, and you couldn’t wait for the snow to fall.

Walking was never an issue for you; it was a chance to stretch your legs. Your home was nearby, and the fresh air was a welcome relief from work stress.

As you approached the corner, you spotted a familiar green car parked in the lot. A sense of urgency filled you, and you dashed upstairs, eager to see who had arrived.

"Jay!" you called as you unlocked your apartment door.

"Oh? I’m cooking!" he replied, his voice echoing from the kitchen as he washed a large piece of raw chicken. "Well, about to cook, anyway."

"I didn’t know you’d be back early!" you exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen and brushing stray hair from your forehead. "If I had known—"

"Shh." Jay flashed you a warm smile. "Take your shoes off first."

You paused, realizing you hadn’t removed your work shoes. With a sheepish grin, you hurried back to the front door to kick them off.

"Jake told me you guys were going to be late because no one was performing for the 10 PM gig, right?" you asked as you hung your clothes in a nearby closet.

"The guy showed up last minute. Had a bit of a traffic conundrum," Jay explained, moving toward the kitchen island, where he prepared a large cutting board and his trusty knife. "You came early too, didn’t you?"

You sighed, recalling the earlier chaos at work. "I’d rather forget work. I’m at home now."

You stepped closer to Jay, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging.

"I'm home," you murmured, resting your head against the crook of his neck. His smile widened, and you noticed a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"You are," he replied softly.

Glancing at the uncut peppers and potatoes on the counter, you realized Jay was just starting to cook. You grabbed a knife and peeler, ready to join him.

"How thin?" you asked, picking up a potato.

"Just dice them. It’ll be fine," he said, finishing up the chicken. "How big do you want the chicken pieces?"

"Just enough, honey. I don’t think we need big ones today."

Jay perked up at your words. "Not today, huh? No one’s coming?"

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he meant. "Coming? Today?"

He sighed with a chuckle, clearly amused. "Big chops it is."

You shrugged, feeling a sense of agreement. You weren’t really paying attention, but anything that made Jay smile made you content. His smirk, his smile, his constant care—these were the little things you cherished about him.

“Are you cutting those potatoes, or should I do it myself?” Jay teased, knowing your tendencies well as he felt that familiar gazing look you always do around him.

You raised the potato playfully, inching it closer to his jawline.

"Can I use your—"

"Yah! Is that clean?"

"Your jawline? I hope so—"

"Aish, get working." He nudged your stomach, turning back to chop the carrots.

After a few sweet chuckles and playful glances, Jay gently pushed you toward your room.

"Get changed." He tossed a set of clothes in your direction and closed the door softly.

Stunned, you can only look at the empty room you were left in.

A bed filled with comfy memories, walls that always shine whenever the morning sun comes, and the rugs and pillows you've buried yourself in, varying from plushies, bears and large pillows. Just how lucky are you to always wake up in this bed with such a fine man?

As you changed, you noticed the tag on the clothes he had given you. Though the price was scratched out, the brand was unmistakable.

"Bottega… Bottega?! Jay!"

You dashed out of the room, eager to confront him.

Right outside your living room, a large glass sliding door stood between it and an extensive outdoor balcony.

When Jay heard the door slide, he turned his back quickly to see what's up.

"Wait I— I guess I’m done," he chuckled.

Jay walked closer towards you with an accomplished smile on his face.

"Happy Birthday."

You couldn’t mask your surprise. You were never good at expressing your emotions, but Jay knew you well enough to see the gleam in your eyes, and nothing like a blank stare.

"You forgot, didn’t you?"

You finally smiled, walking toward him and stepping out onto your balcony.

The cold breeze complemented the warmth of a makeshift bonfire. Trays of marshmallows and cookies were laid out, alongside a table set with your favorite chicken dish and a bottle of wine, ready for a cozy night in.

"I thought… it was just a normal night," you said, feeling tears well up.

"We can always do movie nights," Jay said, taking a step closer. "Tonight is your birthday. I just wanted to do something special."

You were overwhelmed. Movie nights had been a tradition for years, yet how could you forget your own birthday? Jay always tried to make you feel cherished, and tonight was no exception.

"This tops last year, right?" he asked with a competitive grin.

"You’re always like this, Jay."

"Like what?"

"Generous ... Loving ... Loving me so generously." You chuckled at the tone, and softly stopped as you admired him, appreciating how he made you feel valued, even though you both can only do so much in your life right now.

"This is the most I can do."

"You know you can do everything."

"I’ll do everything for you. That’s what I want."

He pulled you close, capturing your lips in an intimate kiss. The warmth of his hands cradled your face, and you savored the moment.

"Mhm… that was refreshing," you said, pulling away slightly.

"Your tongue still acts like it’s thirsty, huh?" he teased. "I’m not going anywhere, honey."

You smiled and playfully pinched his nose. "I’m just savoring what I have right now. Very delectable."

Jay grinned, then playfully shoved his cold hands against your chest.

"Ah!" You flinched, realizing you had forgotten to wear the outfit he had given you.

"Being underdressed isn’t allowed here, right? You little deviant," he laughed.

"You!" You scratched your head and rushed back to your room to change into the clothes he bought you.

"Why did you buy something so expensive?!" you called from your bedroom.

"I saved up for it, okay? You better wear it often!" he replied, grinning as you stepped out, his gaze sweeping over you.

"I knew it would fit you," he said, appreciating how the outfit complemented you.

"At least I look good," you pondered, still hesitant about wearing something so luxurious.

"You always do," he assured you.

As he embraced you from behind, you felt the rhythm of his heartbeat against your back, a comforting presence.

"I love you," Jay whispered, tightening his hold.

"I love you too," you replied, kissing his forehead. There was no feeling quite like being held close by someone so special.

Outside, delicate white flakes began to drift through the air. Snow began to fall, gently blanketing the world around you both in white.

"Hey," Jay said, pulling away slightly. "Want to dance?"

You nodded, and he pulled out his phone, playing a soft tune. As the music filled the air, he took your hand and led you to the middle of the balcony, where the snow swirled around you like a dream.

With each sway and twirl, you lost yourself in the moment, the world fading away as you danced with Jay under the falling snow.

Okay maybe I want ENHA to cover fairy of shampoo ... also i really thought the song was about being in love with someone despite the struggles of life so i was like i gotta put ma mans out there because i know he's be perfect for something like this 😭🖐

| masterlist! | previous | next |

he looks even more huggable ...

SGSDFGGAESRGSGFEWAFGSDEEFESF

NI-KI ON THE COVER OF ELLE KOREA

⋆｡°✩ you were always in his heart

unsorted | park sunghoon x male!reader

pairing: sunghoon x male!reader genre: fluff !! words: 3.1k notes: have you ever had that one person in your past that you just never forgot? what if they went out and looked for you??? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA just knew this trope for almost all the fandoms i've been but not here?? atleast for male readers?? so i had to do it to em!! LOL

"Want this pack of chips I've got?" You offered the silent boy a small pack of cheese-flavored chips, looking at him with a bright smile on your face. The playful glint in your eyes seemed to lighten the mood of the cramped elevator.

"Uhm..." He muttered, clearly unsure what to do with it, his gaze darting back and forth as if searching for an escape route from the awkwardness.

"Don't worry!" You shook the pack in front of him, the crinkling sound breaking the silence. "It's not that cheesy! But it is tasty, hehe." Your enthusiasm was infectious.

The boy examined you with a long gaze, taking in the way the cheese dust coated your fingertips. It was messy, but somehow charming. You were obviously bigger than him, and that felt... strange. Yet, there was something comforting about it. Knowing he had someone to share this moment with in a hellish, broken elevator made him smile, even if it was just a little.

"Oh! You smile!" You cheered, noticing the small smirk forming on his lips. His laughter echoed softly as you both shared a moment of joy, the tension lifting slightly.

"Of course I do." He fiddled with his hands, the skating gloves protecting his fragile fingers. "I'm not a robot."

"Hmm." You put your hand on your chin, trying to think deeply, which made you look even more playful. "Well, my friend has this big robot at his house."

The boy's eyes widened with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yeah! It will definitely blow your mind." You twirled your fingers in the air, mimicking an explosion. "Even dances like a real person!"

"Whoa..." The boy was fascinated by the topic. A robot that dances seemed to spark an interest in him, lighting up his expression. It may sound childish, but he was definitely hooked on the idea of it.

Even though it was 2016, technology still held a certain magic for him. He had never been spoiled with so much toys or even a nice phone, but the thought of a dancing robot captivated him. It was a world he could only dream of, and he liked the idea of entertaining people too.

"Yeah!" You spoke as you continued to munch on your chips, the cheesy flavor making your eyes sparkle. "I'm sure you have one! You look rich."

The boy tilted his head, confused by the compliment. He looked... rich? His family can barely afford their lifestyle, opting to travel overseas just to find cheaper skating lessons. Was it the way he dressed? Or the way he spoke? He felt uncomfortable at that observation but couldn’t blame you for it.

Looking back at you, he wondered about your own life. How did you experience the world? You seemed so carefree, so mature, yet so childlike. Where did you get all this energy? He could only wish to play with someone like you, a normal boy.

"Wait..." You asked, sensing his silence. "You must be a prince or something!"

The boy could only look down at the ground, his thoughts drowning out your words.

Realizing the shift in his demeanor, you quickly stood up and walked to his side. You playfully slid your back against the metallic wall of the elevator, settling down next to him.

"You good?" You spoke softly, trying to catch his attention.

"Y-yeah..." He mumbled, still avoiding your gaze.

Curious, you held the bag of chips in front of his face, and he flinched at the sudden movement.

"You sure you're not hungry?" You asked, still offering the bag, your voice full of warmth and kindness.

"I'm not a kid..." The boy thought for a moment, when his stomach growled deep in response. The two boys looked at each other.

Sunghoon sighed. "You really are persistent, huh?"

You laughed, surprised by his response. "Not hungry?"

He took the pack of chips from your hands, quickly grabbing whatever he could.

"Wait a minute..." He looked at you, his expression turning from excitement to confusion.

"Hmmm?" You tilted your head, not yet realizing the issue.

"It’s just dust!" He whined, clearly disappointed as he peered into the bag.

"Wah?" You looked inside the bag, brow furrowed. "No, it's not! There's still more stuff. Look harder."

The boy, still wanting to complain, peered back down into the bag. Indeed, there were still bits of chips at the bottom, the smell of cheese and salt wafting up and making his stomach grumble again.

Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted the moment. "Is..."

"What?" You asked, confusion etched on your face.

"That was you, wasn't it?" He asked, realizing how loud his stomach had been.

"No way." The boy answered, bringing the bag up to his face and taking a handful of chips.

"Wah, hey!" You exclaimed, half-laughing, half-worried as you watched him devour the remnants. You wanted to either save some for yourself or scold him for eating so quickly.

After he wiped his lips clean, satisfaction washed over his face. "That was good." He tried to flick the dust off his gloves, but it was futile; they were already stained.

"Thank you," he added, unsure if he should be embarrassed or grateful.

You assumed a reply was coming, and took a deep breath, but what came next was entirely unexpected.

"Wah! Your face!" You chuckled, unable to contain yourself as you noticed the remnants of cheese dust on his cheeks. It was too funny not to laugh at.

"What?" The boy asked, genuinely confused, his brows furrowing.

"Haha, look!" You raised a finger and tried to wipe the dust off his face, unintentionally smearing it across his cheeks. "Cheese!"

His eyes went wide as he realized how messy he looked, and he quickly tried to wipe his face with his gloves. In the process, he only managed to dirty them further.

"Oh no," he muttered, anxiety creeping in. His mother would definitely get angry.

"Huh?" You looked at him, before spotting the dirtied gloves.

"Take those gloves off then," you suggested. "Let's take it off so it doesn't bother you."

He hesitated, thinking about the consequences of his actions, but ultimately decided to let his hands free from the tight grip of his gloves. As he tried to salvage them, you continued to brush his face clean, your touch gentle and caring.

Noticing how close you were, the boy felt a warmth spread across his cheeks, turning bright red. He was mesmerized by the way your hands moved on his face.

Embarrassed, he instinctively moved away, refusing to let you touch him anymore.

"Oh?" You spoke, a playful tone in your voice. "I... I'm just cleaning it."

"I- I can do it," he stammered, trembling at the situation. Why on earth was he blushing about a boy in front of him? He didn't want to like that, but the touch of your hand on his cheek felt... nice.

Alarming both of them, the elevator suddenly jolted, and the doors opened revealing the bright lights of the mall.

"Ah! We're safe!!" You jumped up high, cheering at the top of your lungs. The boy, still dazed, could only think about the warmth of your touch when suddenly, you wrapped your hands around his and clasped them tightly.

You were holding his hand... you were holding his hand.

Even as you jumped for joy, and as the guards entered the elevator to safely assess the two of you, he couldn't get that moment out of his mind.

He liked the warmth he felt from you. It was like a fire he wanted to bathe in. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you occupied his thoughts for a while.

After getting rescued by the mall security, your mother came to talk to you, but you noticed that Sunghoon looked a bit... melancholic. It didn't sit well with you, and as you approached, you could hear how his mom and dad talked down to him. Your heart ached for him.

Running carefree, you walked towards him, determined to cheer him up.

"Hey!" You shouted when you saw him again, and he felt a rush of warmth as his face flushed.

"You good?"

Was he good? He couldn't even think straight...

"Hey..." You tried to communicate, catching his attention one last time.

"Yes?"

"You alright?" You asked, genuinely concerned but trying not to pry. You were just a kid after all.

"Y-yeah." The boy noticed how you had gone silent, while his parents looked at you with uncertainty before walking a bit farther away.

"You know, my mom told me you were a skater!" You exclaimed, your eyes lighting up as if a huge star had twinkled right beside him.

That's why you were dressed so elegantly. It was a beautiful costume that made him stand out.

"Y-yeah." He replied shyly, feeling the warmth of your compliment.

"You wear those blade things, right?" You asked, your curiosity spilling over as you admired him.

"Right??" You repeated, as if needing confirmation.

"Yes. And they're called roller blades."

"How do you not cut yourself?" You asked, your eyes wide with intrigue.

"You uhh..." The boy thought for a moment, trying to give a proper answer. "You really have to be careful."

"Woah..." You smiled, leaning closer as if he had just revealed a great secret. That was definitely something fascinating for you.

"Yeah." He nodded, seeing how your face lit up with admiration. "Why?"

"Why? Can't your new best friend ask you?"

"New best friend?" That was sudden. But not that he minded.

"Yeah!" You declared with confidence, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Who decided that?" The boy asked, amused.

"Me!" You chirped, causing him to giggle softly at your boldness.

"Of course it's you." He smiled, feeling a bit closer to you than he had earlier.

"Yeah!" You beamed back, your joy infectious and making his cheeks heat up a little. He was becoming fond of you already.

"We shared food together and I like you!" You announced proudly. "So now, we're best friends!"

"L-like?" The boy stuttered, clearly surprised by your declaration.

"Yeah!" You replied without a second thought. You both were definitely on different pages.

"Ahh..." The boy smiled, the word 'like' resonating with him in a pleasant way. To him, it beautifully described this interaction.

He liked you.

"Can I just say? You're definitely cuter than any other girl classmate I have." You smiled brightly. "Really!"

Okay, maybe you were on the same page together.

But for the boy? That heated his face even further, turning it bright red.

"And you have the cutest moles too..." You pointed out as you looked at his small face. "Look!"

He instinctively covered his face in embarrassment, wishing he could disappear into the ground. Even at the young age of 14, this was not how he pictured his simple day going.

Suddenly, he heard his parents call out to him. With your ears perking up, you held his arm, trying to talk to him one last time.

"Wait!"

The boy looked back at you, confusion evident on his face.

"Hmm?" He glanced at you, still holding onto his arm.

"What's your name?" You asked, your tone playful yet sincere.

It felt ridiculous not to know, but it was fair; he didn’t want too much attention anyway. Relaxing, he smiled softly.

"Park Sunghoon." He beamed, showing off his shy smile. "I... I skate professionally."

"Ahh..."

"And you?"

You gave your name, and Sunghoon made sure to remember it, etching that smile into his memory.

"It's ... a beautiful name." Sunghoon looked at you with fascination written all over his face.

"So is yours!" You cheered, making him giggle at that.

As he ran to catch up with his parents, you bid farewell to the skater, your heart a bit heavy at the parting.

As for Sunghoon, he couldn't care less about his performance for the day. Instead, he was only thinking of your name, itching to write it down in his notebook back at the hotel.

"I'll have to remember it," he thought to himself, gazing out the car window as the city lights glimmered against the darkening sky.

Unbeknownst to him, his future self would retire gracefully from skating. But being scouted as an idol wasn’t so bad, as he would later join a company focused on training the next big stars.

Yet, with everything that happened, nothing changed whenever he thought of you. There wasn't a single day that he didn't wonder what you were currently doing.

Did you pursue something amazing, like medicine or law? Did you commit to a good job that paid well?

Had you moved on from the memory of him? Had you dated anyone in your school or neighborhood?

And what about him? He definitely failed to forget you.

In the end, your memory lingered in his mind, like a song on repeat. Sunghoon had your name written in his heart with permanent ink, occupying a specific part of his brain that continued to wander.

Then, when he finally debuted, he could finally come to your country.

Finally, he had a way to see you again. To find you at least. To see you one last time before he let's go of that precious memory.

As he was on tour inside a shopping mall, Sunghoon browsed through a selection of fragrances. He couldn't wait to try some, fascinated by the exclusive items only sold at this location.

As if by random chance, he looked out the window and saw the bright sun shining outside the hall. Children played, adults walked by, and the scene was warm and cozy.

In a split second, he caught sight of the most unexpected thing he had ever seen through the thin glass.

You, standing there, exchanging a call with someone on your phone.

Sunghoon couldn't believe it. It was you. Really you. After all those years of not seeing your face, he was shocked to recognize that familiar sliver of hair. Maybe it was the way you stood? The way you carried yourself? Or just your eyes?

He couldn't even fathom it. Even after examining every angle, only he could recognize you from afar.

As you began to walk away, Sunghoon let go of his bags and handed them to his manager, rushing after you in a split second.

The wind whipped around him as he pushed through time and distance. He needed to see if it was really you. If it was your eyes he recognized, your stature, or just the very essence of you.

In his mind, he was set on one thing: finding you.

With what seemed like a goose chase, Sunghoon finally caught up to you.

Thinking of a way to get your attention, he recalled all the things he had practiced saying if you ever met again.

"Hey! It's Sunghoon. The skater guy? ... No."

"Hi! I'm Sunghoon's Enhype... shit."

"Hello? I... I think I know you?" Coming up with a quick line, he tapped your shoulder and waited for a response, his heart racing.

As he waited for you to turn, he steeled himself. Until he saw your face.

Or not.

"Sunghoon!!" It was a fan who just happened to be there. Thinking he was so utterly screwed; he stood frozen as he watched people flood around him. Smiling sheepishly, he scanned the crowd, searching for you again.

Suddenly, a tug pulled him out like a fish from the wild crowd.

"Get your head down, you're too tall." A whispering tone spoke to him, as if only he could understand. He nodded, prioritizing his safety as he ducked down.

Slowly, the stranger led him to a nearby exit door. It was a closed space, away from prying eyes, secluded from the bustling crowd.

"What were you trying to do over there? Public execution?" Sunghoon turned his head upwards, finally catching his breath. In that moment, he stood stiff, planted like a log on the ground.

The familiar eyes, the stature, the confident aura... it was you.

You found him first.

"Remember m-"

Before he could finish, a tight hug enveloped your body as you spoke. It wasn't just any hug; it was a warm embrace that expressed how much he longed to see you again. Even for just a second, he would sacrifice it all to be with you.

He never knew he missed you this much. Way too much.

"I remember you." As cheesy as it sounded, he gripped onto you tightly, cherishing the moment he had yearned for so long.

He met that boy again.

He was here with you, again.

You could only smile back, hugging him just as tightly. There were no words needed; only the warmth you two shared at that moment.

He was happy. And so were you.

After that, you talked and talked for moments, forgetting everything else around you.

Sunghoon was definitely smiling as he learned about your life and your dreams.

And you? You were happy to see how well he was taking care of himself. He was definitely taller than last time, and—

"You became even more handsome. Or pretty?" You smiled, taking in his physicality. Sunghoon couldn’t help but brush his hand through his hair, flustered and shy.

"Even better than the girls in your school?" Sunghoon quoted, still having that engraved in his mind.

It took you a second to understand, before bursting out in laughter.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You remember that?"

"Of course." He chuckled softly. He remembered every little detail, replaying it like a favorite movie in his head.

You looked at him, seeing his genuine affection take center stage.

"Even better than anyone else." The way you said it made Sunghoon’s heart race.

Caught off guard with your boldness, he had no hesitations. With a rush of sweet adrenaline, he grabbed your face and kissed you with all the warmth and affection he had kept inside.

It was a kiss he had reserved just for you, his first.

As he pulled away, a bright smile adorned his features, his laughter bubbling up in childish joy.

"That... that was definitely a first." You stammered, feeling a bit taken back to be kissed like that.

"Yeah, I... I have no idea what a kiss with a guy should be."

"Oh, so you’ve kissed girls before?"

"No." That was quite a response.

"No?" You thought. You seemed ... relieved at that too?

"Never kissed a girl." Sunghoon replied straightforwardly. "My mind was filled with thoughts of only you."

You laughed again, finding it absurd that he had such thoughts of you.

"Seriously?!"

"Really." Sunghoon smiled. "You were very persistent in my head, even after everything. Even when you weren't there."

You looked at him, seeing his genuine affection take center stage.

"Same." You hugged him again, resting your head on his broad shoulder. Sunghoon liked that, caressing your back as you enjoyed having your weight upon his frame.

You stayed like that for a while, reminiscing and rekindling the bond you both had formed.

One thing was clear: Sunghoon wasn’t going to forget you anytime soon.

And neither would you.

WASNT THAT JUST THE SWEETESTTTTT i wish i could do moreeeeee but alas my head couldn't pump out enough ... i will do more if i could later onnn.... pls enjoy tho!!!

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ [ch.2] for when you see me

Songs on the charts, sold-out shows, the kind of career most musicians dream about—everything’s perfect. But success doesn’t fill the emptiness. And then, just when you think you’ve moved on—there he is. Your past, standing in front of you like a love song you never finished.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park jongseong x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — 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!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — use of male pronouns, has some implied relationships, swear words, mentions and use of alcoholic substances, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl, story update lengths may vary~

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love: the full masterlist [PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

The whiskey still burned in your chest when you woke up. You hated the feeling of alcohol within your system, but god does it soothe your tangled mess of a head.

Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, unforgiving. You groaned, rolling onto your side, half-expecting the bed to dip under someone else’s weight. But the sheets were cold. Empty.

Just like always.

The CD player had long since shut off, but the song still looped in your skull.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes until colors burst behind your lids.

Pathetic.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Leah’s name flashed across the screen, followed by a string of texts:

Leah: u alive?

Leah: also sarah says sorry abt last night. she didn’t know it was ‘that song’

Leah: …u gonna answer or am i sending mira over?

You typed back with one thumb.

You: i’m fine. don’t worry.

A lie. But what else was new?

The boxes in the corner taunted you. You’d only opened one last night, and already it felt like picking at a scab. The rest were a minefield of old playlists, ticket stubs, and the kind of photos that made your ribs ache.

You kicked the nearest one under the bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

The day was bright and bold. You set yourself up on your feet and got ready. Today is work day.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

“Going to Floor 26.” The pristine elevator voice echoed around you as you got in it.

The studio was your sanctuary. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Atlas Records had given you the space after your first album surprisingly went platinum immediately after it was released (only days before it went double.) It was a token, a ‘reward,’ they’d called it. As if the pristine soundboards, the premium tech setup and gears, and some Grade-A acoustic paneling could make up for the fact that they owned you.

You slumped into the chair, scrolling through the latest track list your producer had shoved at you: that and a mere bunch of memos from the people upstairs.

Upbeat. Radio-friendly. More of what’s working, just like last cycle.

You crumpled the stupid paper into a ball and threw it straight into the can.

"Rough night?" You almost flinched as you heard a booming voice behind you.

Mira, your manager, leaned against the doorframe, sipping a matcha latte with extra foam. Walking just enough meters beside you, she offered another cup with the same taste — your favorite.

"Something like that," you muttered, taking the cup and popping the lid off instantly. You smelled the fresh aroma, before sipping soundly.

She arched a brow. "Leah’s wedding, right? Tell me about it."

You strummed a dissonant chord on the nearby guitar. "Played ‘Wonderwall.’ The crowd loved it."

Mira didn’t laugh, sitting with her back against one of your designer chairs. "Liar liar, pants on fire."

You shrugged. "It’s in my contract. Must lie convincingly to press."

“Press!? We lived in the same roof for a year and that’s all I am to you?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m famous.”

She groaned, taking it lightly. But then her eyes flicked to your hands—the way your fingers trembled ever so slightly against the strings.

"Who was it?" she asked, softer.

You didn’t answer. You could feel her eyes burning through your thick skull as if almost reading the contents of your brain.

She exhaled. "Take the day, hmm? Sleep it off. We can push the schedule to—"

"I’m fine." You grabbed the nearest lyric sheet, jaw tight. You sat across her in your leather chair, focusing on sorting out the busy contents of your workspace before speaking yet again. "Let’s just work. We’ve got three hours before we go, yeah?"

Mira studied you for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah.”

After taking a long winding breath, she slowly went to the door to take her leave.

“If you start crying into the microphone later, I’m charging you for ruined equipment." She retorted one last second.

“Blah blah, go do your manager things!” You smiled as you tried to throw a crumpled sheet to her.

“Alright, alright!” She shut the door gently, leaving you alone on your vices.

Right ... you were going to sing today. A lot.

When you least expected it, the skill you had fun as a hobby had already become a chore.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

The neon sign outside flickered—YE OLD TAVERN—in all its peeling, ironic glory.

You hadn't set foot in this place since your university years. Back when sticky tables and cheap beer felt like an adventure, not exhaustion. Back when he was still beside you, laughing into his drink as you butchered a karaoke song.

Now, the bar was packed—word had spread about the "intimate, unplugged" tour Atlas had forced you into. Authenticity sells, they'd said. Fans eat this shit up.

You just wanted nothing but sleep.

"Five minutes," Mira muttered, nudging you toward the old stage—a vintage relic of this bar’s storied past, all with a single mic stand waiting.

The crowd was a blur of your fans; young adults like you, some adults that you remind of their youth, and a lot of younger people that definitely fit the criteria of modern fans, holding up LED signs and phone screens. You adjusted the guitar strap digging into your shoulder and forced a smile.

Your signature voice flowed through the space like a gentle autumn breeze, carrying warmth and nostalgia with every note. The raw emotion in your delivery resonated deeply with your supporters, who hung on every word and inflection.

You can definitely see it in their eyes. They were enamored by you.

Your voice filled the room with a simple kind of magic. The crowd melted into the music as you sang, each word honest and raw. This wasn't just another show - it was real, and everyone could feel it.

Then you saw him.

Blond hair, roughly swept back to the side like he'd run a hand through it one too many times. Broad shoulders under a fitted black shirt. That face—sharp, unfairly handsome, watching you with an intensity that made your fingers twitch against the strings.

Jay.

Right there. On the side of the bar area, sat on a comfy wooden stool.

Your breath caught. And his too.

He hadn't meant to come.

But then he'd seen the posters outside the tavern—your name in bold letters—and suddenly he was nineteen again, sneaking in with his new ID just to see you play again and not miss his shot.

Now, he‘s frozen as he sees you perform so whole heartedly under the might of a single incandescent light.

You looked beautiful. Real.

Not the polished version from magazines or Leah's wedding—where you'd stiffened the second Sarah requested that song. Where your voice had cracked on the chorus, raw in a way no studio could autotune.

Where he’s just able to see you again.

And now here you were, strumming the opening chords of something new—voice low, rougher than he remembered. The crowd swayed, but Jay didn't move.

Couldn't.

Not when you glanced up mid-verse, gaze snagging on his like a caught breath.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

You finished the set in a daze.

No one noticed the way your hands shook. No one except him.

Backstage—if you could call a storage room with a large old leather loveseat a ‘backstage’—Mira shoved a bottle of branded distilled water into your hands. "Good crowd. Atlas'll be happy."

You didn't answer.

Mira sighed, looking at you with that same concern yet again. She knows your situation, and she feels bad being so helpless and useless to ease your pain the way you want.

She taps your shoulder and presents a light grin back at you. "Van’s out back. Avoid the fans, yeah?"

You nodded, seeing her leave the room shortly.

Until when can you stomach this feeling? This sensation? Being trapped in world you dreamed of was never in your plans, yet here you are, sitting inside your gilded cage.

As you took a deep breath, you fixed your hair and showered yourself in your favorite perfume yet again. You took a faithful step and approached the exit.

When your senses met the stench of New York’s streets opposite the alley door, Jay was already there. Leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed, like he'd been waiting for years.

"Hey," he said.

The streetlight caught the gold in his hair. God, he looked good.

"Hi." Your voice came out hoarse. You walked slowly, approaching him with some needy caution. Just for yourself.

A beat of silence passed. Then Jay pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You killed it in there."

You scoffed. "It was a dive bar, Jay."

"Yeah. Our dive bar."

The words hung between you. Quiet, and more of that still silence.

“The dim lights suit your features.”

You shot up a glance towards Jay, hearing him say such a ridiculous thing in the middle of your self-inflicted turmoil.

You could say the same for him.

Right then, you forced yourself to look away. "Shouldn't you be with … Naomi, right?"

Jay's jaw tightened, his hands flexing against his sharp jaw. "I … wanted to see you."

Why?

You didn't ask. Couldn't possibly.

Instead, you watched as he pulled something from his pocket—a crisp white card.

PARK JONGSEONG, with some unreadable fine print at the side you couldn’t see much under the street lights. His name is embossed in sleek black and accents of regal purple.

"If you ever want to grab matcha," he said, holding it out. "No pressure."

You stared at it. Four years ago, you'd have taken it without hesitation.

Now?

"Jay," you said softly, "what about … her?"

As he opened his mouth—

Ring.

His phone lit up. As your curious eyes darted over, the name span the screen. Naomi.

Jay cursed under his breath, still not answering as he held out for your advise.

"I should—"

"Yeah." You stepped back. "I don’t mind."

He hesitated, card still extended. "Just please... think about it."

Nervous as you can be, you took the card in hesitation.

“A card, huh?” You flipped the sheet of stiff paper on your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Jay perked up his one-sided smile, genuinely happy at the gesture. You couldn’t help but smile back — it was contagious when you see Jay act that way.

“Park Jongseong … got your whole government name here too, hehe.” Jay couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that comment, and neither could you.

Then he was gone—turning by the corner—swallowed by the city lights.

You stood there, fingers clenched around his card, until Mira honked the car horn.

“Drive or bust, superstar!”

Lost in thought, his voice played like a broken record in your head.

Think about it.

As if you could do anything else.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — HAHAHA THE GODS HAVE GIVEN ME THE SIGN SO ITS UPDATE TIME AND OH WE'RE IN CHAPTER 2!! what is all the juice abouttt, find out next chapter~ also excited for en-chella!! GO TEAM WOOOOOO

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — tagging @kaiyunsim @firstclassjaylee @ryes-brownies08

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ can i join the masterlist? — 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~ 

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love : the full masterlist [COMING SOON]

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

my masterlist! | don't forget to reblog! | made by writhyv 💘

THANK U FOR SERVING THE CUNTRY RAAAHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

just a boy —

pairing : fuckboy!jay x gn!reader

summary : you meet jay at a party where you reject him after making a move… he likes it when they play hard to get.

warnings : angst, fluff, more angst than fluff tbh, uni au, reader is a freshman, jay is older, featuring heeseung + jake, jisung from nct, and minju from illit

a/n : omg fun to write is actually an understatement. i hope it turned out fun to read :) also for my pookie @writhyv

queueing : just a boy - alaina castillo,

— wc : 6.6 — not proof read —

you don't really care about parties. they're loud, crowded, and always filled with people trying too hard. but minju drags you along anyway, insisting that you need to "experience the university nightlife" at least once.

"come on, it'll be fun," she says, looping her arm through yours. "plus, jisung bailed on me, and i am not third-wheeling jake and his situationship all night."

so now you're here, standing awkwardly in the corner of a frat house, gripping a red solo cup filled with something that smells suspiciously like gasoline. minju is already off somewhere, talking to a girl from her english class, and you're left to watch as people dance, drink, and make questionable decisions.

"you look miserable," a voice says from beside you.

you turn and come face to face with park jongseong, jay, as everyone calls him. you know his name, even if you've never spoken before. he's older, popular, and has a reputation that follows him everywhere he goes.

flirt. player. fuckboy.

minju has warned you about him. "he's hot, yeah, but he's the kind of guy who doesn't do relationships. he flirts, hooks up, and moves on. trust me, i've seen it happen."

but none of that matters, because you have no plans to entertain him.

jay grins at you, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. he's got that easy confidence, the kind that comes with knowing he's attractive and that people want him.

"not a fan of parties?" he asks, tilting his head.

you shrug. "not really."

he chuckles. "then why are you here?"

"minju."

his eyebrows raise slightly. "you know minju?"

"from high school." you say, keeping your answers short.

"interesting," he muses, eyes scanning your face like he's trying to place you somewhere in his memory. he doesn't seem to recognize you, though, which isn't surprising. you've never exactly run in the same circles.

"so," he says, shifting closer. "wanna dance?"

it's not a question, not really. it's the kind of offer people don't usually refuse, not when it comes from him. jay park doesn't get turned down.

but you just blink at him and say, "no, thanks."

his smile falters, just for a second, before he recovers. "really? you sure? i promise i'm a good dancer."

"i'm sure." you say with a fake smile, giving off the vibe that you’re annoyed

he lets out a soft laugh, like he can't believe you're actually rejecting him. his ego must be bruised, but he hides it well, still looking at you with interest.

"alright," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "then how about a drink? i can get you something better than… whatever that is." he nods at your cup.

"i'm good."

"wow," he murmurs, shaking his head in amusement. "you're really not making this easy for me, huh?"

"should i?"

he grins, running a hand through his dark hair. "most people do."

"well, i'm not most people."

jay studies you for a moment, like he's trying to figure out why you're different. why you're not reacting the way everyone else does. you don't bat your lashes at him, don't giggle or play into his flirting. and for some reason, instead of turning him away, it only seems to intrigue him more.

"i like you," he says suddenly.

you roll your eyes. "you don't even know me."

"not yet," he agrees, "but i’d like to."

there's something almost playful in his voice, but you know better. jay isn’t interested in getting to know people. he's interested in chasing, in winning. and right now, you’re just another game to him.

"keep liking me from a distance," you say, brushing past him.

you don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

for the first time in his life, park jongseong has been rejected. and somehow, you think that only makes him more determined.

—

you don't think much about your encounter with jay. to you, it was just another conversation at a party, one you barely wanted to be at in the first place.

but apparently, jay thinks otherwise.

it starts with small things.

you see him at the campus café, where he just so happens to show up right behind you in line.

"oh, hey," he says casually, as if running into you is pure coincidence.

you glance at him, unimpressed. "hey."

"what are you getting?"

you turn back to the menu. "haven't decided."

"let me guess," he hums, tapping a finger against his chin like he's solving some great mystery. "you seem like a caramel macchiato kind of person."

you raise a brow. "what does that even mean?"

jay grins, leaning in slightly. "sweet, but a little bitter if you get on their bad side."

"so basically, you're guessing."

"i call it an educated guess," he says, nodding at the cashier. "get one. my treat."

"no, thanks."

he lets out a dramatic sigh. "you really don't like accepting things from me, huh?"

"nope."

instead of looking discouraged, jay just watches as you place your order, an iced americano, completely different from what he guessed.

he chuckles. "so i was way off."

"yup."

you take your drink and leave without another word. jay doesn’t follow, but you swear you feel his stare on your back as you walk away.

it keeps happening.

and then, one afternoon, you’re sitting under a tree, trying to get through an assignment, when someone drops into the grass beside you.

"you always look so serious," jay muses.

you don’t even glance up. "because i'm trying to focus."

"right, right." he leans back on his hands. "but don't you ever take a break?"

"nope."

"come on," he nudges your knee with his. "five minutes won't kill you."

you sigh, finally looking at him. "do you need something?"

jay flashes you that same easy grin, the one that probably gets him whatever he wants. "just your company."

"i think you’ll survive without it."

he clutches his chest dramatically. "ouch. you wound me."

"you’ll live."

jay just laughs, shaking his head. "you know, you’re making this really difficult."

"making what difficult?"

"getting to know you."

"who said i wanted you to?"

he stares at you for a moment, eyes glinting with something unreadable. then, instead of answering, he stands up and dusts himself off.

"alright," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "guess i’ll try again tomorrow."

before you can process his words, he's already walking away.

"okay, what is going on?" minju asks a few days later, sliding into the seat across from you in the dining hall.

"what do you mean?"

she gestures dramatically. "you and jay. he keeps staring at you. he keeps showing up wherever you are."

"it's just a coincidence."

"coincidence my ass," she huffs. "he’s interested."

"interested in what? flirting with someone who doesn’t want to flirt back?"

"exactly!" minju exclaims. "he's never been rejected before! you’re like. like. his first loss."

"not a loss," you correct. "just… not a win."

"same thing in his mind." she leans in, eyes narrowing. "be honest. do you like him?"

you snort. "no."

"not even a little?"

"minju, he flirts with anything that breathes."

"true," she concedes, stabbing a piece of her salad. "but he’s never tried this hard before."

you roll your eyes. "and that’s exactly why i’m not interested. he only wants what he can’t have."

"so you think if you gave in, he’d lose interest?"

"obviously. but it’s not like i want him to be interested in the first place,”

but what you don’t see is jay, sitting at another table with jake and heeseung, watching you from across the room.

"so," heeseung says, "still trying?"

jay sips his drink, not looking away. "yup."

jake shakes his head, laughing. "dude, you're obsessed."

"i'm not obsessed," jay scoffs. "i'm just… interested."

heeseung raises a brow. "in what? winning?"

jay pauses. that should be the answer. that’s how it always is. he flirts, he wins, he moves on. but this time, it feels different.

"i dunno," he mutters, eyes still locked on you. "but i wanna find out."

and just like that, park jongseong makes it his mission to make you fall for him.

whether you want to or not.

—

you’re starting to think the universe has a cruel sense of humor.

there’s no other explanation for why jay park keeps showing up everywhere you go.

first, it’s the café… again. you stop by for your usual iced americano, and there he is, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. when he sees you, his lips curl into a smirk.

"you stalking me now?" he teases.

you blink at him. "this is literally my usual spot."

"yeah?" he muses, stepping aside so you can order. "funny. seems like it’s mine now too."

you ignore him and pay for your drink, but as you turn to leave, he suddenly holds out a muffin. "here."

you frown. "what is this?"

"peace offering," he says. "for annoying you so much."

"i don't want it."

jay tuts, shaking his head. "harsh. you don’t like sweets?"

"i don’t like you."

he laughs, completely unbothered. "that’s not true. you just won’t admit you think i’m funny."

you roll your eyes and walk past him, but not before he calls out, "see you around!"

unfortunately, he’s right.

the second time, it’s the library.

you’re sitting at a table, halfway through an essay, when someone slides into the seat across from you.

you don’t need to look up. "seriously?"

jay rests his chin on his palm, grinning. "seriously."

"do you even study?"

"i do now." he gestures to his laptop, which, sure enough, is open.

you sigh and turn back to your work, ignoring him completely. for the first ten minutes, he’s quiet, and you start to think maybe—just maybe—he’s actually here to study.

but then he leans forward. "you always this focused?"

"yes."

"cute," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

you finally look at him, unimpressed. "why are you here?"

"what, a guy can’t expand his knowledge?"

"you haven’t typed a single word."

jay glances at his screen, where his essay is blank. he shrugs. "i’m thinking."

"about what?"

"about how long it’s gonna take for you to admit you like having me around."

you let out a slow breath, standing up and gathering your things. "good luck with that."

"where you going?"

"somewhere quiet."

jay watches you leave, the smirk never leaving his face.

you think that’s the end of it.

until your professor assigns a group project.

"you’ll be working in pairs," she says. "check the list for your partner."

you scan the names, looking for yours, and freeze.

park jongseong.

"you’ve got to be kidding me," you mutter.

"what?" minju asks, peering over your shoulder. then she snorts. "oh. wow. the universe really has it out for you."

you groan, dropping your head onto the desk.

"who’d you get?"

you glance up to see jisung standing beside you, holding his own paper.

"jay," minju answers for you.

jisung grimaces. "yikes."

"yep."

before you can say anything else, someone taps your shoulder.

"guess we’re partners," jay says, voice far too amused.

you sigh. "don’t remind me.”

—

working with jay is… not as painful as you expected.

you still don’t like him. obviously. but he’s not completely useless.

turns out, he’s actually smart. and organized. he doesn’t slack off or make you do all the work. and—annoyingly—he’s kind of funny.

you realize this when you’re both at the library, bouncing ideas off each other.

"okay, so we could go with this topic," you say, scrolling through the research.

jay hums. "or we could pick something that won’t make me want to throw myself off a building."

you bite back a smile. "dramatic much?"

"you’re underestimating my ability to get bored."

"i think that’s just your problem."

jay gasps, placing a hand over his chest. "ouch. i thought we were bonding."

"we’re working."

"same thing."

you shake your head, but you don’t argue.

slowly, things shift.

you still tell yourself that jay is just playing a game. but sometimes, you catch him looking at you—really looking—and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like one.

like when you’re at the library, and you yawn without thinking.

"tired?" he asks.

"obviously."

without a word, he slides his drink toward you.

you blink. "what—"

"it’s an americano," he says simply.

you hesitate, then take a sip. "it’s sweet."

jay shrugs. "i like sugar."

you give him a look. "so you were way off when you guessed my order last time."

he grins. "guess so."

you shake your head, but you don’t push the drink back.

—

"okay, so he’s not the worst person alive," you admit later.

minju stares at you. "who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

"i’m serious," you say. "he’s… fine. actually kind of helpful."

minju sighs. "that’s how it starts."

"how what starts?"

"you start thinking he’s not that bad. then, before you know it, you’re catching feelings."

"i’m not catching anything."

she gives you a look. "just be careful, okay? he’s only this persistent because you’re the first person to say no."

you nod, but her words stick in your head.

you tell yourself you don’t care.

but then one night, you’re leaving the library, and jay is waiting outside.

"walking alone at this hour?" he muses. "dangerous."

you raise an eyebrow. "and you’re what? my bodyguard?"

jay smirks. "i could be."

"no thanks."

"still," he says, falling into step beside you. "i’ll walk you back."

"you don’t have to."

"i know."

you sigh, but you let him.

the walk is quiet, save for the sound of your footsteps. when you reach your building, you stop.

"this is me," you say.

jay nods. "guess i’ll see you tomorrow."

"guess so."

he hesitates, then lifts a hand, ruffling your hair before you can react.

you blink. "what the—"

he just grins. "goodnight."

then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heart doing something it definitely shouldn’t be doing.

this is bad.

really bad.

—

the next party is loud, too loud. music shakes the floor, conversations overlap, and the air is thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. you don’t even know why you’re here.

well. you do.

minju dragged you out, saying you’ve been too cooped up with schoolwork and your stupid group project (which, unfortunately, includes jay park). jisung backed her up, insisting you needed to “socialize like a normal human being.”

so now you’re here, standing in the corner of someone’s crowded apartment, gripping a half-empty cup of soda because you don’t drink, and pretending you’re interested in whatever minju is talking about.

until you see him.

jay.

you tell yourself you shouldn’t be surprised. parties are his thing, after all. loud music, dim lighting, a sea of people who’d fall into his arms without hesitation.

he fits right in.

too well.

you spot him across the room, leaning against the wall, that lazy smirk on his lips. there’s a girl beside him, standing too close, laughing at something he just said. she tilts her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. jay doesn’t move away.

he says something else, something that makes her giggle, and then he leans in,,, just a little.

your stomach twists.

it’s stupid. so, so stupid.

this is what he does. this is who he is. he flirts with everyone. you’ve seen it before. you knew this about him before he even knew your name.

but tonight, it bothers you.

you don’t know why, and you don’t want to think about it.

"you okay?" minju asks, nudging your arm.

"yeah," you say too quickly. "just… tired."

she eyes you but doesn’t press. "wanna leave soon?"

you nod. "yeah."

but before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you.

"hey," a familiar voice says.

you turn, and there he is.

jay.

his smirk is gone.

"what do you want?" you ask, not in the mood for whatever game he’s playing tonight.

he hesitates, glancing at minju, then back at you. "can we talk?"

"no."

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "please?"

minju looks between the two of you, then slowly backs away. "i’ll be over there," she says, pointing to jisung.

you cross your arms. "what?"

jay doesn’t answer right away. instead, he exhales, then jerks his head toward the door. "outside?"

you should say no. you should walk away. but there’s something in his eyes, something that makes your chest feel too tight, so you follow him out.

the cool night air is a relief against your heated skin. outside, the noise is muffled, distant, like the party belongs to a different world.

you stop a few steps away from the door, crossing your arms. "well?"

jay shoves his hands into his pockets. "you looked upset."

you scoff. "why do you care?"

"because," he says, stepping closer, "i do."

you laugh, but it’s humorless. "you flirt with someone else, then come running after me? what is this, jay?"

his jaw tightens. "it’s not like that."

"really? because it sure as hell looked like it."

"you think i do this with everyone?" his voice is sharper now, frustration leaking through. "yeah, i flirt, but this,whatever this is, is different, and you know it."

your breath catches.

different.

he said it first.

but that doesn’t change anything.

"do i?" you challenge. "because it looks exactly the same to me."

jay groans, running a hand through his hair. "i didn’t even realize what i was doing."

"that’s not making this better."

"i know!" he snaps. "i just—fuck."

he exhales, tilting his head back like he’s trying to find the right words in the sky. then, softer, he says, "it’s a habit, okay? flirting, keeping things surface-level. that’s just how i’ve always been."

you swallow, suddenly unsure. "then why are you here?"

jay takes another step forward, close enough that you can see the tension in his shoulders, the crease in his brows.

"because i don’t want this to be surface-level," he admits. "not with you."

the words knock the air out of your lungs.

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then you say, "so what? you want me to believe that you’re suddenly different?"

"i don’t know," he admits. "but i know i don’t want to fuck this up."

you stare at him, at the raw honesty in his expression.

this is dangerous territory.

you should walk away.

you don’t.

but then you think about that girl inside, the way he leaned in so easily, the way it took him this long to come after you.

"you say that," you murmur, voice quieter now, "but you still went back to your usual thing the second i wasn’t around."

jay flinches.

"it didn’t mean anything," he says, quickly, desperately. "i wasn’t even thinking about her."

"exactly," you say bitterly. "you weren’t thinking at all."

jay opens his mouth, then closes it.

"you don’t even realize what you’re doing," you continue, voice tight. "you don’t realize how easily you slip into old habits. you say this is different, but are you sure?"

"yes," jay says, without hesitation.

you laugh, but it’s broken. "then why do i feel like i’m just setting myself up to get hurt?"

he doesn’t have an answer for that.

silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating.

jay looks like he wants to say something, to fix this somehow, but what is there to fix? he’s still the same jay park who flirts with everyone, who doesn’t think before he acts, who only realizes too late that he might actually care.

"you’re not ready for this," you whisper.

"i am," he insists, but there’s something fragile in his voice, something that tells you even he isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth.

you shake your head. "i don’t think you are."

jay reaches out, just a little, like he wants to touch you, like he wants you to stay.

but you step back.

his hand drops.

and with that, you turn around and walk away.

jay doesn’t call after you.

he doesn’t chase you this time.

and maybe that tells you everything you need to know.

—

you avoid him.

it’s not hard at first. you’re in different years, different circles. you stop going to the café where you know he likes to hang out between classes, ignore the parties minju tries to drag you to, and duck your head whenever you spot him on campus.

the only problem is that jay notices.

you’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, jay park—fuckboy, campus heartbreaker, the guy who shouldn’t care—is suddenly watching you.

you feel it in the way his eyes linger too long when you pass by in the hallway, in the way his conversations falter when you’re around, in the way his whole demeanor shifts whenever you deliberately turn away.

he doesn’t chase after you.

but he’s not ignoring it, either.

and that’s what makes it worse.

it would be easier if he didn’t care, if he went right back to flirting with someone else like nothing ever happened. but he doesn’t.

and that terrifies you.

so you run faster.

"okay, what is wrong with you?"

jay exhales sharply, gripping the pool cue tighter. "nothing."

"bullshit."

heeseung snatches the stick out of his hands before he can even attempt a shot. jay scowls, reaching for it, but heeseung just leans away.

"bro, you’ve been in the worst mood for, like, a week," jake says, spinning an unmarked beer bottle between his fingers. "just admit it."

jay glares. "admit what?"

heeseung rolls his eyes. "that you’re being a little bitch about this whole thing."

jay scoffs. "about what?"

"oh my god," jake groans. "are you in denial, or just stupid?"

jay clenches his jaw. "neither."

heeseung and jake share a look, and jay hates that they’re silently communicating in that annoying, knowing way that only best friends do.

"listen," heeseung starts, "you don’t do feelings. we get it. but this? whatever’s happening between you and—"

"don’t say their name," jay mutters, looking away.

heeseung smirks. "oh, so you do care?"

jay exhales, tilting his head back against the worn leather of the booth.

fuck.

he doesn’t know what this is.

he just knows that it sucks.

he didn’t think avoiding them would be a big deal. people walk away from him all the time, sometimes before he can even do it first.

but this?

this feels different.

it feels like something is missing. like something is slipping through his fingers and he’s too fucking slow to catch it.

"you don’t even like people," jake points out.

jay sighs. "i like you guys."

"yeah, but we don’t count," heeseung snorts. "we’re basically required to deal with your bullshit."

jay scoffs, shoving his shoulder, but heeseung just grins.

then, quieter, he says, "this is the first time you’ve actually looked miserable over someone."

jay doesn’t answer.

"so what are you gonna do about it?" jake asks.

jay exhales, drumming his fingers against the table.

he doesn’t know.

but he knows he can’t keep pretending this is nothing.

not anymore.

—

you don’t know why you look.

it’s just a normal afternoon. you’re heading toward the library, minju walking beside you, talking about something jisung said earlier.

and then you see him.

jay is standing near the campus courtyard, golden light catching the sharp edges of his jawline. he’s not alone.

there’s a girl with him. she’s standing close—too close. her hand is on his arm, fingers curling lightly around the sleeve of his jacket. she laughs at something he says, head tilting, eyes locked on his.

and jay?

jay just smiles.

it’s the same smile you’ve seen before, the same effortless charm, the same easy confidence that has made him a campus legend. he leans in slightly, talking low, his posture relaxed like he’s done this a thousand times.

because he has.

your chest tightens.

"hey, you okay?" minju asks beside you, nudging your arm.

you snap your gaze away, pulse quickening. you shouldn’t care. you knew what he was like before you even met him. you knew he flirted with anyone he found attractive, that he never had to try, that he never faced rejection.

you knew he was never meant to be serious.

so why does it feel like something inside you is caving in?

"yeah," you mumble. "just remembered something i have to do."

minju frowns, but you don’t give her a chance to question it. before she can say anything, you turn and walk the other way, ignoring the burning feeling in your chest.

you don’t look back.

and jay doesn’t notice you leaving.

yet, jay can tell something’s wrong.

he doesn’t know what it is, but he can feel it.

it’s in the way you won’t look at him, the way you walk past him like he’s just another face in the crowd.

at first, he thinks he’s imagining it. you were never friends to begin with—maybe you were just busy, maybe this is normal.

but the shift is undeniable.

before, you’d at least acknowledge him. you’d give him a polite nod, a passing glance, sometimes even a subtle eyeroll when you caught him flirting.

now?

nothing.

he sees you on campus, and you don’t even flinch.

he walks past your usual café, and you’re not there.

he catches you in the library and for a second. just a second. he swears you meet his gaze.

but then you turn away.

like he’s not even there.

he doesn’t plan to confront you.

but after a week of this, of whatever this is, he finds himself standing outside your dorm, hands shoved in his pockets, frustration bubbling under his skin.

he doesn’t even know why he’s here.

it’s not like you owe him anything.

but still, he knocks.

no answer.

he exhales sharply, rocking back on his heels, debating whether to try again.

then, he hears footsteps.

"what are you doing here?"

jay turns, finding jisung standing a few feet away, arms crossed.

"looking for y/n," jay says. "they’ve been… acting weird."

jisung raises an eyebrow. "and you just noticed?"

jay frowns. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

jisung exhales, shaking his head. "they saw you," he says simply.

jay’s stomach tightens. "...what?"

"the other day. in the courtyard. with that girl."

jay blinks, the memory slotting into place. shit.

"they saw you smiling at her," jisung continues, his voice even but firm. "letting her touch you. looking at her the way they thought—" he stops himself, sighing. "never mind."

jay’s pulse kicks up. "you think they—"

"they think they were stupid for believing you might actually be different with them," jisung cuts in, sharper now. "they think they almost fell for the same bullshit you pull on everyone else."

jay clenches his jaw.

fuck.

he wasn’t thinking. he didn’t even realize.

but now, remembering the moment, the way the girl had laughed, the way she had leaned in, the way he hadn’t pulled away—

he understands.

and it feels like he just lost something important without even knowing he had it.

"if you’re gonna say something, make it worth their time," jisung says. "because right now? they don’t want anything to do with you."

jay doesn’t answer.

because for the first time in his life, he’s the one who got it wrong.

he’s the one who let something real slip through his fingers.

and he has no idea how to fix it.

but he knows one thing—

he has to try.

—

you don’t expect him to be waiting for you.

it’s late. you just finished a study session with minju, and all you want is to go back to your dorm, crawl under the covers, and forget about everything—forget about him.

but as soon as you step into the dimly lit hallway leading to your room, you see him.

jay.

leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes dark with something unreadable.

your heart stutters.

you hesitate, debating whether to turn around, pretend you didn’t see him. but then he looks up—really looks at you—and you know there’s no escape.

"we need to talk," he says, pushing off the wall.

fuck jisung for letting him in.

"i don’t think we do," you mutter, stepping past him, reaching for your door.

but before you can, jay moves, his hand catching your wrist—gently, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

"please," he says.

you freeze.

he’s never said please before. at least, not like this. not as desperate as this.

slowly, you turn to face him, sighing. "jay—"

"just let me say this," he cuts in, eyes burning with something raw, something you’ve never seen on him before. desperation.

you press your lips together but nod.

jay exhales, running a hand through his hair. "i—fuck, i don’t know how to do this," he mutters, shaking his head. "i’m not good at this."

"then don’t," you say, voice sharper than you intended. "don’t stand here and feed me some excuse about how you 'don’t do relationships' or 'didn’t mean to hurt me.' i don’t want to hear it."

jay flinches. "that’s not what i was gonna say."

you cross your arms. "then what?"

he swallows hard, eyes flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. "i—i don’t know how to do this, because i’ve never felt like this before."

your breath catches.

"i didn’t even realize what i was doing," jay continues, voice quieter now. "i didn’t think. i’ve never had to. flirting, messing around—it’s just… easy. but you—" he exhales sharply. "you make things different."

you shake your head. "jay—"

"i don’t want anyone else," he interrupts, stepping closer, voice steady. "just you."

your chest tightens.

"and when you get bored?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "when someone new comes along?"

jay shakes his head immediately. "i don’t think i could ever get bored of you."

it’s too much.

too much to believe, too much to trust, too much to risk.

"how am i supposed to believe that?" you ask, eyes searching his face. "how am i supposed to believe you won’t wake up one day and decide i was just another name on your list?"

jay exhales, stepping even closer, until there’s barely any space between you. "because no one’s ever made me feel like this before."

your pulse is loud in your ears.

"i don’t know how to do relationships," he admits, voice low, honest. "i don’t know how to be what you deserve. but i want to try. i want to figure it out—with you."

he’s so close now. close enough that you can smell the faint scent of his cologne, close enough that you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the fear of being rejected, of losing you.

you shouldn’t.

you should walk away.

you should protect yourself, guard your heart, not fall for the one person who could break you the easiest.

but then jay reaches up, fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch hesitant, almost trembling.

"please," he murmurs, his voice almost breaking.

jay park—unshakable, confident, the fuckboy—is breaking in front of you.

and against all logic, all reason—you fall.

before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you close the space between you.

his breath catches, just for a second, before his lips press against yours, warm and desperate.

jay kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like he’s trying to prove every word he just said. his hands cup your face, pulling you closer, holding you like you’re something fragile—something precious.

and when you kiss him back, letting yourself believe—just for this moment—that maybe, just maybe, this could be real, he sighs against your lips, like he’s just found something he’s been searching for all along.

—

your relationship with jay park is different.

you knew it wouldn’t be easy, falling for someone who never had to try, who never had to work for love. but you never expected this.

never expected him to try so hard.

at first, it’s awkward. jay doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s used to effortless flirting, meaningless hookups, relationships that start and end in the span of a night.

but with you?

he wants to be better. he wants to be different.

so he does things he’s never done before.

he waits for you after class, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"did you eat?" he asks one day, falling into step beside you.

you blink. "uh… yeah?"

jay nods, looking relieved. "okay. cool. just—yeah. cool."

he’s awkward. jay park, campus fuckboy, the smooth talker who never falters, is awkward.

you bite back a smile. "did you eat?"

he hesitates.

you raise an eyebrow. "jay."

he clears his throat. "…no."

you sigh, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him toward the campus café. he lets you, grinning like you just gave him the world.

the first time he reaches for your hand, it’s so casual that you almost miss it.

you’re sitting next to each other, watching a movie in the dorm common room. your hand rests between you, fingers brushing against his.

then, slowly, hesitantly, jay links his pinky with yours.

your heart stutters.

you glance at him, but he’s staring straight at the screen, his jaw tight, his ears slightly red.

you bite your lip.

then, without a word, you let your fingers slip fully into his.

jay stiffens for half a second. then, his grip tightens, and he exhales, shoulders relaxing.

he doesn’t let go for the rest of the movie.

he’s not used to jealousy.

or rather, he’s not used to his own jealousy.

he’s seen people get possessive over him before, watched girls glare when he flirted with someone new, felt the heat of their disappointment when they realized he wasn’t theirs.

but now?

now he understands.

he understands because he’s standing in the middle of campus, watching some guy—some random guy—smile at you like he has a chance.

and jay hates it.

he crosses the distance before he can think, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

"hey, baby," he murmurs, voice low, casual, possessive.

your eyes widen. "jay?"

"who’s this?" jay asks, looking at the guy.

the guy blinks, glancing between the two of you. "uh, just—just a classmate."

jay smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "cool. yeah. we gotta go, though."

you barely have time to say goodbye before jay is leading you away, his grip firm but gentle.

once you’re out of earshot, you elbow him. "what was that?"

jay shrugs. "didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

you roll your eyes. "you can’t just—"

he stops walking, turning to face you, eyes serious. "i know i don’t have the right," he admits. "but i don’t like it. i don’t like the idea of someone else thinking they can have you."

your breath catches.

"you’re mine," jay says, voice softer now. "right?"

you stare at him for a moment.

then, finally, you sigh, reaching up to flick his forehead.

"yeah," you mutter. "i’m yours."

jay grins, rubbing his forehead. "damn right."

heeseung and jake pretend to be disgusted.

"you’re whipped," jake says, shaking his head.

"nah, man, this is worse than we thought," heeseung adds. "he’s holding hands in public."

jay glares at them from across the table, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

"you guys are just mad i have a functional love life," he says.

jake snorts. "yeah, sure. functional."

"bet he calls them ‘baby’ over text," heeseung whispers loudly.

jake gasps. "you think he—"

"shut up," jay groans.

you’re trying not to laugh. "do you?"

jay glares at you, but his ears are red. "i hate you."

you grin. "you love me."

jay rolls his eyes.

but then, under the table, he gives your hand a squeeze.

and you know—

even if he’ll never admit it out loud—

he really does.

—

you constantly look back and don’t know when you started believing him.

maybe it was the first time he held your hand without thinking, his fingers curling around yours so naturally, like he didn’t need to pretend anymore.

or maybe it was when he let you steal his hoodie, even though you were sure he’d never let anyone do that before.

or maybe—just maybe—it was when you saw the way he looked at you.

because it’s different now.

jay park, the guy who used to flirt with anyone just for fun, the guy who never stuck around, only looks at you.

"okay, but seriously," jake says, pointing a fry at jay. "how the hell did this happen?"

you’re sitting in the corner booth of a diner near campus, squeezed between jay and the wall. heeseung and jake are across from you, both staring like you’re some kind of unsolvable mystery.

jay takes a slow sip of his drink. "what do you mean?"

"you!" heeseung gestures wildly. "relationship jay. committed jay. ‘not flirting with every breathing human’ jay."

"it’s called growth," jay deadpans.

"it’s called ‘i fell first, and i fell hard,’" jake teases, smirking.

jay huffs. "whatever, man."

but he doesn’t deny it.

heeseung leans forward, grinning. "okay, but who confessed first?"

jay opens his mouth—

"me, obviously," you interrupt.

jay’s head snaps toward you. "what?"

you shrug. "you’re a coward. took you forever to admit you liked me."

jake laughs. "ohhh, he got you there."

jay glares at you, but you just smile, nudging his foot under the table.

you laugh, “joking, it’s complicated.”

heeseung rests his chin in his palm. "man, i never thought i’d see the day."

"what day?" you ask, amused.

"the day jay park became a simp."

jay groans, burying his face in his hands. "i hate all of you."

you pat his arm. "no, you don’t."

he exhales, tilting his head to look at you. his eyes soften.

"yeah," he murmurs. "i don’t."

—

later that night, after jay walks you back to your dorm, you linger outside the door.

he doesn’t leave right away.

instead, he leans against the wall, hands in his pockets, just looking at you.

you tilt your head. "what?"

jay hesitates, then exhales sharply.

"it’s weird," he mutters. "this whole time, i thought i had everything figured out. i thought i knew what i wanted. but then you came along, and suddenly, nothing made sense anymore."

your chest tightens.

"i didn’t get it at first," jay continues, eyes flickering to the ground. "why i got so annoyed when you ignored me. why i kept looking for you in every room. why i couldn’t flirt with anyone else without feeling like it was wrong."

he finally meets your gaze.

"but now i do."

your fingers tighten around the door handle, heartbeat loud in your ears.

"i don’t want to be the guy i was before," he murmurs. "not with you."

you swallow. "jay—"

"i know i’m not good at this," he cuts in. "i know i’m gonna mess up. i know i don’t deserve you."

his voice drops lower, almost hesitant. almost afraid.

"but i want to try. and i want you to let me."

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then, finally—

you sigh, shaking your head. "god, you’re such an idiot."

jay blinks. "huh?"

you step forward, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him down until your foreheads touch.

"you’ve had me this whole time," you murmur.

jay’s breath stutters.

then, slowly—hesitantly—his arms wrap around you, holding you against him, warm and real.

"yeah?" he whispers.

you nod. "yeah."

jay exhales a shaky laugh, squeezing you tighter.

"thank god," he mutters. "i don’t think i could’ve handled losing you."

you smile against his shoulder.

neither could you.

HOLY FUCK IM CHRISTIAN

250215

AAAAAAAA !!!! IM MELTING IM MELTING!!!

credits to the owner

jay ... slaying as always .... but jake?! the SLUT jumped out wtf (my hands is one screen away from grabbing exposing his collarbone) 😭☝️

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