⋆｡°✩ [jay, Jake, Ni-ki, Sunghoon] When They Sneak Out Just To See You ...

⋆｡°✩ jake and his heart beating for you

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 😭💙💙

"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 smile—Jake 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 again—the 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 from—"

Before you could finish, a warm kiss enveloped your lips. It was soft and comfortable, like a feeling of pure sweetness and love—all 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~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv.

ENOUGH *YEETS MYSELF*

[NI-KI] See you tomorrow~🫡

⋆｡°✩ [ch.4] for when you know 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 — 2.2k

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

The studio smelled like overpriced candles and desperation—vanilla and bergamot masking the stale coffee and exhaustion clinging to the air.

You slumped in the vocal booth, headphones pressing into your skull once more like Atlas' hands around your throat. Your forehead was drenched with nervous sweat as you stared at the lyric sheet through blurry eyes.

"Again," the producer's voice crackled through the intercom, not looking up from his screen where waveforms pulsed in hypnotic patterns. "From the bridge. And this time, I need you to feel it."

“Again?” You tried to retort.

“Don’t you dare. We’ve barely got any material.” The rude operator just kept on going.

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you closed your eyes and sang the same hollow lyrics for the seventeenth time that day, your fingers twitching against your thighs with each forced note.

"I don't need your love, I don't need your touch—"

A lie. Every word.

With every inch of her might, she pushed the heavy studio door to crack it open. Ariana Grande slipped in like sunlight through storm clouds, her quaint dress complimenting her petite frame.

The scent of her perfume momentarily cut through the studio's stale air as she caught your eye through the glass and mimed playing a small violin—her signature this is torture face, complete with exaggerated pout.

You choked back a laugh that threatened to turn into something more fragile.

"Break time!" she announced, marching in before the producer could protest. Her manicured fingers plucked the headphones off your head with practiced ease, the sudden absence of pressure making your ears ring.

“For real?” You asked.

"Come on, superstar. Five minutes won't kill your track." She winked. "Unless we're aiming for that post-crying vocal texture?"

“That’s a you thing.”

“Blah blah, just get outtt~”

The second you were out of earshot, she shoved a matcha latte into your hands. The cup was still warm, condensation beading on the cardboard sleeve.

“You got this from Mira?” You asked, hesitating at first as you received the cup.

“I’m appalled.” She muttered under her breath. “I know your blend. I’m a Grande, if that helps.”

You rolled your eyes as you rolled with her puns and so.

It was as if a lifetime ago when you were only dreaming of getting tickets to one of her shows. Now, you were rubbing elbows with one of the industry’s finest. You could say it was one of the perks of being an artist, to get a glimpse of those who really have inspired you since the beginning.

As for why she’s here, it’s complicated. At one point you babbled to a bunch of staff people that you’d die to get your favorite artists on your next album, projected by almost any stat person to be a Grammy nominated album at minimum.

Atlas heard, and Atlas gives. You could say you were thankful for them being greedy to get someone as Grande. It was a dream come true made reality for you.

"Breathe," she murmured as she sat on one of the round chairs, her usual bubbly persona dropping for a rare moment of sincerity as she studied the dark circles under your eyes.

You took a grateful sip, the familiar bitterness grounding you as it burned your tongue. "They're gonna fire me."

Ari rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, leaning against the leather couch that had seen brighter days. "Please." She flicked your forehead lightly, her diamond ring catching the studio lights. "Atlas would sell their firstborn to keep you."

When you didn't smile, she nudged your knee with her own. "You're their only cash cow this decade, and we both know it. Remember Tokyo?"

The memory surfaced—Dior's store opening, the two of you hiding in a dressing room with smuggled champagne, laughing until your stomachs hurt about all the industry nonsense.

That had been...what? Eight months ago? It’s a crazy world to be an artist in.

The studio door cracked open again. Mira hovered in the doorway, her tablet clutched to her chest like a shield. The fluorescent hallway lights backlit her frazzled bun. "Uh...sorry to interrupt, but—"

Ari waved her off without looking away from you. "Five more minutes, Mira. The man's about to have an aneurysm." She gestured to your white-knuckled grip on the latte cup, where your nails had left crescent moons in the cardboard.

Mira hesitated, biting her lip hard enough to leave marks, then stepped fully inside. The door clicked shut behind her with ominous finality.

"It's...it's really urgent. Mr. M's waiting upstairs. He said—" She cut herself off, glancing nervously at Ariana, her fingers tightening around the tablet.

Ari raised one perfectly arched eyebrow but didn't press.

“Ah. Him again?”

“It’s always him.” You sighed.

Looking at you, she squeezed your shoulder, her touch warm through the thin fabric of your t-shirt.

“Have you been working out?” She blurted.

“You know I do—”

"Go," she murmured, just for you. "We'll pick this up later."

As you stood, she added quietly, "And text me if you need an alibi. I've got a great story about a karaoke bar and three backup dancers ready to go."

“Wait, three?”

“It’ll be five if you agree on a time today.” Ari winked with mischief.

–––

The elevator ride to the executive floor felt like ascending to the gallows. Each passing floor number blinked accusingly, the mirrored walls reflecting your tired expression back at you from infinite angles.

You fixed your hair with trembling fingers, tucking the loose strand behind your ear, but it was a losing battle—you looked exactly like what you were: exhausted.

Mr. M's office was all sharp angles and cold light—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan that did nothing to warm the space, a massive oak desk that probably cost more than your first car, its surface polished to a mirror shine.

He didn't stand when you entered, just gestured to the chair opposite him with the gold-plated pen in his hand, the overhead lights glinting off his Rolex.

“New watch?” You flick your gaze to his wrist, smirking. “Let me guess—gift from HR after they finally capped your sexual harassment complaints?”

The air conditioning kicks on. Or maybe it’s just the ice in his stare.

“Cute.” He doesn’t blink. “You’d need a personality to weaponize before it’d land, though.”

You lean in, sugar-venom sweet: “And you’d need a dick to compensate for before I’d care.”

His knuckles whiten around his coffee cup. There it is—the crack in the armor. You file it away for later. Also, you killed that delivery though.

"Sit."

You remained standing, your back straight despite the ache between your shoulders.

“Difficult artists…” Mr. M muttered rather underhandedly as he slid a tablet across the desk with one finger, the movement precise and controlled.

The TMZ article glared up at you—grainy but unmistakable, the timestamp reading 3:17 AM in the corner.

You and Jay in that diner booth, his hand hovering near yours like he couldn't quite help himself, the neon sign casting both of you in pink light. The headline burned your retinas:

ATLAS’ GOLDEN ACE SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY MAN! Insiders say the late-night meeting has Atlas execs "concerned"

Mr. M tapped the screen with his pen, circling the title with the sound so crisp it nipped at your ear.

“I’m taking it their talking about you?” You tried to lighten the mood. “You do look ‘concerned’.. time isn’t kind to those like—”

"You’d do well to quit the quips and explain, boy." Mr. M huffed.

You kept your voice level through sheer willpower.

"An old friend."

Oh, joy.

"An old distraction," Mr. M corrected, his Italian loafers hitting the carpet as he leaned back, the leather chair creaking under his weight. "Do you know how much we've invested in you? Your image? Your brand?" His fingers steepled, the diamond pinky ring catching the light.

"Jongseong Park—former law school trust fund kid, now what? A music theory professor?" He scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain. "How...quaint."

He didn’t have to force that into your throat, the bitter fact that Jay made such a decision.

Just for the sake of you, needing no confirmation from him.

You knew Jay would do anything for you, but it still ached you. Ached your heart.

He really loved you that much, and you felt undeserving of all of it.

Your nails bit into your palms, the pain the only thing keeping you grounded. "He’s a respectable professor at NYU."

"Exactly." Mr. M's smile was all teeth, the kind that never reached his eyes. "And you're here. In the big leagues." He stood abruptly, circling the desk with slow, measured steps.

You couldn’t help but shoot a glare at the man before you—but what of it?—you’re stuck in this golden pit he’d call his home.

"We own your voice. Your face. Your story." His hand landed on your shoulder, heavy as a shackle. "And your story doesn't include some washed-up law school dropout playing teacher."

The words hit like a slap, each syllable a hammer blow to your ribs.

"Damage control," Mr. M continued, straightening his cufflinks with a practiced flick of his wrists. "Rolling Stone next week. You'll say he's … consulting on new material." His smile turned razor-sharp, the kind that promised consequences.

He inched a bit closer to you, much to your disdain.

"You'll smile when you say it."

—

The last student trickled out of the lecture hall, the door swinging shut behind them with a hollow thud that echoed through the suddenly empty space.

Jay slumped against the piano, his fingers absently tracing the keys without pressing down—a habit he'd picked up after quitting law school, when the weight of his parents' disappointment still sat heavy on his shoulders and the only comfort was the familiar topography of black and white ivory.

The late afternoon sun’s rays slanted through the high windows of Steinhardt, painting the hardwood floors in gold. Dust motes danced in the beams, swirling around sheet music left abandoned on stands. The air smelled like rosin and old books, with the faintest hint of lemon polish underneath.

Jay closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. The lecture had gone well—better than well, actually. His students had been engaged, asking thoughtful questions about modal interchange that showed they'd actually done the reading. It should have felt like a victory.

Instead, all he could hear was your voice cracking on that diner's cheap speakers last night, singing words you'd once whispered against his skin like secrets.

"Professor Park?"

Jay turned, expecting another eager undergrad with questions about their midterm or perhaps the department secretary with paperwork.

Instead, Naomi stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the sunlight streaming in from the hall.

Her crisp navy blazer was wrinkled from travel, her usually impeccable ponytail slightly askew. A rolling suitcase stood at her side, its wheels still damp from New York's unpredictable spring showers.

"Surprise," she said softly, her heels clicking against the hardwood as she approached. The sound was measured, precise—like everything Naomi did.

Jay's stomach dropped. She wasn't due back from Washington until tomorrow. He'd planned to—well, he didn't know what he'd planned.

Clean the apartment, maybe. Buy flowers.

Pretend last night hadn't happened.

“You could’ve called me.” Jay forced a smile on his features. “Feeling alright?”

There were no words—nothing but silence that only drowned their presences together. There was no way to measure the volume of how deafening it was.

Naomi’s gaze did look longer as she always did, slowly leaning in as she reached into her briefcase, her movements deliberate.

The leather creaked as she pulled out a folded tabloid, sliding it across the piano lid without a word. The paper made a soft scraping sound against the polished wood, the movement sending a few sheets of music fluttering to the side.

The New York Post, its cover page loaded with one giant headline image.

The grainy photo stared up at him—you and him in that diner booth, caught in some unguarded moment he couldn't even remember. Your fingers had been inches from his, your face tilted toward him in the pink neon glow like you were sharing a secret. The headline was bold and brutal:

MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS! Who is the mystery man stealing pop's golden ace's heart?

Jay's throat closed. His fingers twitched toward the newspaper, then pulled back, leaving it lying there like an indictment.

Naomi didn't yell. Didn't cry. There was no trace of any emotions that tore her face anew.

Just studied him with those keen lawyer's eyes that missed nothing—not the way his breath hitched, not the flush creeping up his neck, not even the promise ring he suddenly found himself twisting around his finger.

The silence stretched between them, taut as a high wire, the only sound the distant chatter of students passing in the hall outside and the metronome-like tick of the classroom clock.

"I know." She said simply.

And that was worse than any accusation.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — okay i gotta admit this is too fast for an update and i was supposed to publish a ni-ki fic but THIS IS MY MAN'S DAY SO WE GOTTA CELEBRATE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED POOKIE ROCKSTAR RAAAAAAAAA LYLYLYLYLYL MAWMAWMAMWA

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

legacy masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

i KNEW he looked familiar, welcome back blond brows jay 😭😭😭🖐️

𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑰'𝑺 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲 𝑶𝑴𝑮𝑮𝑮, 𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑵'𝑻 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑫-

⋆｡°✩ random texts with bf jay pt. 1

u got texts // drabbles | jongseong park x male!reader

pairing: jay x male!reader genre: fluffy smau warnings: suggestive words or double meanings idk u decide 😂 notes: somehow fits with my fairy of shampoo jay, but can stand alone on its own as just you being his established bf :D i would generally love to make more gn! stuff soon so stay tuned! also jay ... i love him ... i will lock him in a room with me and he'll be getting impr-

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just had that feeling of 'oh i want to spoil jay so bad ... he deserves so much love 😭💜' and did it ... WAAAAAAAAAA

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

my masterlist!

made by writhyv.

i just dreamt of the saddest most angstiest jay scenario and i kid you not i was crying

spy partner! enha x spy! reader

confessions of sorts

the post to an ask that @writhyv sent me abt enha confession texts gone wrong - but unfortunately i deleted it by accident LMAOOOO

cw: swearing, crack, fluff, mentions of guns and shooting

Masterlist

A/N: Hope you guys liked this one!!!! Requests are open!

Off Script — chapter 15 : SIMP

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prev | masterlist | next

a/n : BRINGING IT BACK RN !!! long chapter for u guys and hoping for updates weekly :) also sorry if i missed anyone on the taglist :[ it's been forever since an update.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

taglist (open !) : comment or send an ask to be added !

@molensworld @kkurbys @bubblztaro @livingdoll-hara @desafortuno @gnusihcom @iamsimplyasimp @valenriwoo @jmclouds @l-lucas-s @bee-the-loser @regginade @zhaegon @cl4ir0l0v3r @soombee @0108s22m @skuyafj @zzstar @bellymellyyyy @academiq @tarotarosung @angelzforu @httpenhoon @pinklemonade34 @thebearchives @meoriapeuda99 @kazemiya @lisaswifey @enzstr @kukkurookkoo @s0shroe @stairstothe7th @heeheesang @sngj08 @sol3chu @lov3lyaaru @ribbeoms @amarecerasus @defnotsanni @yurisblooming @skepvids @the-belching-toe @anormieee @dylanobr1ens @missychief1404 @mimimimiaa @lovenha7 @janjoonty @stargirl-library @taeraegyat

⋆｡°✩ [jay, jake, ni-ki, sunghoon] when they find your old fan account ...

for some reason, your idol boyfriend finds out about your old fan account ...

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing/s — park jongseong x male!reader + sim jaeyun x male!reader + nishimura riki x male!reader + park sunghoon x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — male reader, enhypen x engene!reader, smau / texting, fluff, suggestive content, innuendos

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — 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

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ u got texts : the full masterlist (revamped and reorganized)

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EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — 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 😭

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — 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 💘