⋆｡°✩ [jay, Jake] Cat Things, Dog Things

⋆｡°✩ coming out to your bestfriend!enha

there's always comfort when they're around, surely they'll accept you no matter what?

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

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — male reader, bestfriend!enhypen x lgbt!reader, smau / texting, fluff, lil' cracky, suggestive content, innuendos

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — use of male pronouns, implied relationships, swear words, innuendos, author's interpretation of the people in this series might not always reflect them irl

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

[ dunkinjay.png ]

[ promjake.png ]

[ whathehellbruh.png ]

[ slayig.png ]

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — RAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH IT'S BEEN A SPELL FOR THE TEXTS but they are BACK!! i just decided to brush upon this small prompt, hope yall like it!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ exclusive 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~

legacy masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ tfw a bad date leads to you...

tfw... | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: drinking, implied stuff regarding drinking, implied stuff done by people when they encounter those who are wasted from drinking ...

Do you know that feeling when you meet someone so pretty it hurts your eyes a bit, and tugs your heart, and you feel like you're going to burst down in flames altogether where you stood? That's how exactly how you'll feel when someone just comes your way, being their cute little self.

"I'm tired." You sighed heavily as you rearranged the papers stacked neatly in front of you. It had already been a minute since you fiddled with them, not that you paid any attention to it anyway.

"Come on! It’s not like the end of the world if you tried getting out, right?" Thea, one of your co-workers, playfully tapped your back as she urged you to try another round of her matchmaking. To be honest, you had no confidence in getting anyone to date you with these blind dates. You just felt pity for your friend, however it may seem.

"I guess third time's a charm?" France, your other co-worker, leaned beside your desk. "You have to stop at some point, though. It’s still meeting strangers."

*Sigh.* Obviously, you sighed again.

"Fine, I'll go." You raised your hands in mock surrender. "But just because I don't want you to be sad, Thea."

"Yey! But it’s not for me; it’s for you!" Thea cheered. "It’s just one guy! We’ll have no idea if you don’t try now."

"Just be careful," France spoke, a hint of concern lacing his words as your friend. "The last time I saw you—"

"That was a mistake, France." You stood up quickly, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "I should've just said no. Yet I insisted and got into some mess that you had to be called to rescue me. I still owe you for that."

France laughed quickly at this. "Pssh, it wasn't anything. You're my friend. It’s my job to look out for you."

"Uh-huh," Thea butted in, trying to suppress her laughter.

"Shut up, little person," France retorted quickly. "Best be on your way; I heard this guy booked you at 8."

"Yup! Just be on the dot!" Thea added, walking closer to you as you moved toward the elevator doors.

"Are they any better than the first guy?" you asked, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this guy might be worth a shot this time.

Thea laughed. "They will!"

"I'll hold you to that." You smirked as you saw the elevator doors open.

"Update us!" Thea waved as France settled behind her to see you off.

"Sure thing," you spoke as the elevator doors began to close.

The chime rang, and the shaft glided down the office floors you had grown accustomed to over the past year. Quickly getting a job after graduation had been a breeze, but all the things you had to do after that were another story. Living alone in the city was a hassle, especially with your boss’s constant demands since you were a new hire. It was probably because of your talent for working a little too hard that you might be a teensy bit gullible at this point, but oh well... It pays. So you might as well.

As for love, you never really had one. Not that it didn't interest you, but rather, you had waited for it, and it never came. You had never entertained anyone, but who would court someone as plain and boring as you? You worked hard enough to be buried in files and stacks of paperwork, so you never thought anyone would understand you on that level.

In some terms, you had given up already. But right now, it wasn’t the case. Right now, you were being given chances to see people. You never really had a preference for who to go out with—basically any type. You just wanted someone to look your way, and maybe it would spark that flame inside you too.

On your way to the bar, you saw a large sign on the side of a fancy-looking establishment. It read 'Retro Palace.' Not that it was important, but it sounded really generic. Instead of wallowing in the dilemma of the establishment's name, you stepped inside to see crowds of people. There was no way you could properly do a blind date in a place like this. Plus, you were never a club person. In fact, you hated parties and events that needed crowds. But maybe this was worth a shot. Maybe?

As you entered, you sliced through the middle of the pool of people, who were doing all kinds of things: dancing, shouting, conversing, and more. There was definitely a vibe that every person inside that place exuded.

You remembered you were supposed to go to the second floor, a platform dedicated to dining and feeling a lot more relaxed than the ground floor mess you were in. You spotted it clearly in the distance. A spiral staircase led to the top, where a small luxurious bar sat between rows of fine seats that could cater to just about anyone.

Feeling fancy, you adjusted your attire. It wasn’t your favorite combo, but you couldn’t refuse a gift from your co-worker. The suit was tight, and the colors didn’t really match your face. In any case, it still looked good with the way you carried it, but wearing it was definitely another case entirely.

As you tried to find the best seat, your phone rang. To your surprise, it was your supposed date.

"Oh, hey! I'm here." You smiled as you answered quickly.

"Yup, I can see you from where I'm sitting," the other person chuckled over the line, seemingly already inside the establishment.

"Oh? Where?" You turned to your sides to find the mysterious date.

"The nearest table to the bar. To your left." You squinted again to your left and found a guy standing and waving his hand. Looks like you’re in for a good night.

Although walking closer, it didn’t seem to click. As much as he was good-looking, there wasn't that connection you were hoping to find. It felt... odd. Maybe it was just the norm since you had never met this guy before. The night was still young.

As the guy opened up a seat for you, you thanked him for the gesture and settled in comfortably. He introduced himself.

"Hi! I'm Chang. You must be?"

"Yup, in the flesh," you nodded. Whoever Thea had connections with, she sure had many. This was the second guy she referred to, but it did seem she had a whole collection up her sleeve of people to refer. It seemed... concerning. But that was for another day.

The conversation started light, but as the minutes passed, you felt the disconnect grow. Chang had a pleasant demeanor, but your mind wandered. You were trying to connect, but something felt off.

“Have you been to any other places like this?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not really. I prefer quieter spots,” you replied, feeling a mix of anxiety and discomfort.

“Ah, come on! You gotta live a little!” Chang laughed, but it felt forced, like he was trying too hard.

As you looked around, a waiter walked near and handed you two drinks. Chang clasped his hands around yours and served it on his own.

"Here. Got you a fine mix for the night. On me." Chang smiled broadly as he mixed your drink with the straw it came with. That was... a gesture for sure. You could only smile so wearily.

Chang then raised his drink and moved closer to you.

"To more chances of seeing your handsome face up close. Cheers." His eyes meticulously focused on you, prompting chills down your spine. Was this what real nerves were supposed to feel like? Or just cringe?

"Sure. Cheers." You could have never said that more tiredly. Almost doing it all for the sake of finishing the date, you drank the mix in one go. Chang's eyes widened at your action, but he nevertheless still enjoyed watching you unravel little by little.

As you took another sip from your glass, you felt the warmth intensifying, the drink beginning to take effect. The tension that had settled in your shoulders began to ease, and you found yourself laughing at Chang's jokes, even if they weren’t particularly funny.

“Alright, let’s play a game,” Chang suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Two truths and a lie! I’ll go first.”

You leaned in closer, intrigued despite yourself. The game had a way of breaking the ice, and at this moment, you needed a distraction from the gnawing feeling of disconnect. Chang quickly rattled off his statements, and you found yourself engaged, playing along.

As the minutes turned into hours, you began to notice something unsettling about Chang. His laughter felt a bit too loud, his gestures a bit too exaggerated, and the way he leaned in closer made you feel uneasy. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to the atmosphere of the bar and the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Another round?” Chang asked, his smile wide and inviting.

“Why not?” you said, raising your glass, feeling more adventurous than ever. You downed your drink, the sensation of the alcohol igniting a fire within you that you hadn’t expected. You weren't really a big fan of drinking, but when you did, you always tended to go all out.

But as the night wore on, the laughter grew quieter, and your surroundings began to shift. The edges of your vision blurred, and the sounds around you became muffled. You could sense the growing warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“Hey, I think I need a breather,” you mumbled, standing up unsteadily. The room swayed slightly, and Chang reached out to steady you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Let’s step outside for a bit,” he suggested, guiding you toward the exit. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, but it couldn’t chase away the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach.

“Feeling good?” Chang asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you could see the way his eyes roamed over you, making your skin crawl.

“Uh, yeah, just… need some fresh air,” you replied, trying to put some distance between you.

“Come on, don’t be shy. You know you had fun tonight,” he said, his tone dripping with false charm. “Why don’t we continue this party just the two of us?”

Your heart raced as you realized the implications of his words. “I think I should really be going,” you said, attempting to step back.

But Chang blocked your path, his expression shifting from playful to something darker. “Oh, come on. You’re not going to leave me hanging after all this fun, are you?” His gaze lingered a little too long, and the way he reached out to brush a stray hair behind your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, I need to go,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

“Just relax,” he said, his smile widening unnaturally as he leaned closer. “We can have a lot more fun. Just you and me.”

The panic set in, and before you could respond, the world around you began to blur again. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you down into darkness.

“Hey, don’t you want to have a good time?” Chang’s voice echoed in yo̵u̸r̷ ̸m̵i̸n̶d̷ ̶a̷s̴ ̷e̶v̶e̸r̷y̷t̴h̵i̸n̸g̶ ̸f̷a̵d̵e̷d̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̶b̴l̸a̴c̸k̴.̷

Your eyes jolted awake, blinking against the sunlight streaming through a window. The air smelled of something delicious—bacon and eggs? As you looked around, a weight shifted, seemingly on top of you, and you looked down to find a small, fluffy dog staring intently at you.

Strange... It was a dog you vaguely recognized, who tilted his head, his big eyes full of curiosity. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, the dog's innocent demeanor contrasting sharply with the confusion swirling in your mind.

As you took in your surroundings, you realized you were in an unfamiliar room. The cozy space was decorated with simple but charming furnishings that felt oddly welcoming. The faint sound of sizzling came from the kitchen nearby.

“You're awake. That's good.” A calm voice called from that direction. You turned to see a figure moving about, clearly busy preparing breakfast.

“Uh, morning?” you managed to reply, your voice still thick with sleep.

“You must be hungry. You really knocked back those drinks last night.” A young man with a relaxed demeanor approached, holding a plate full of food.

Your heart sank slightly, memories of the previous night flooding back but feeling scattered and muddled. You recalled laughter, games, and warmth, but something about the night felt off, like a detail on the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t quite grasp.

"Wait... You're..."

"Not the guy you were with last night? Definitely." The young man smirked. "I'm Nishimu— I mean, just Ni-ki is fine."

You tilted your head, curious as to who this man was. He looked too young, too bright, and well ... too handsome. He only wore a grey tank top, exposing his bare arms that were a bit defined. Not that it mattered, he was in the comfort of his own home anyway. His eyes were sharp, but not piercing through you. Instead, they were filled with simple concern. As he sat next to you, he brushed stray hair from your face. With the way he treated you, you couldn't help but feel a light warmth buzzing over your cheeks. That was certainly... a reaction.

“Did I… did I spend the night here?” you asked cautiously, looking around as you distracted yourself from the thought you just had.

Ni-ki shrugged, his expression steady and thoughtful. “Yeah, you were out cold when we got back. I couldn’t just leave you on the street. You were shivering all over here. Bisco was worried, you know?”

You glanced at Bisco, who had jumped off the bed and was now wagging his tail happily, oblivious to your unease. "Oh... That's a nice name."

"Thanks..." "..." "Oh, you meant the dog? Cool. Cool, cool."

“...but thank you.” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Also, I don’t really remember much after stepping outside.”

“Things can get a bit wild sometimes,” Ni-ki said, his tone calm but with an underlying sense of understanding. “You seemed like you were having fun, but it’s always good to be careful.”

Your heart raced as unease gripped you tighter. You felt trapped in a moment that should have been carefree, with Bisco’s warm presence only slightly comforting against the growing realization that something was very wrong.

oooh! cliffhanger! woo! hopefully i get to write more hehe. also ... niki ... 🥺💙 more stories? check out my masterlist

⋆｡°✩ [ ni-ki ver. ] texting your bf 'how could you even love me?'

u got texts // drabbles | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: ni-ki x male!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: ni-ki just can't put it into the right words but he really just loves you ... so much ...

notes: was feeling down but yk as a writer, i decided to cheer myself using the power of delusion creativity! i hope this does make you guys feel better too when you're not feeling the love you should feel... at the end of the day, remember that there will always be people loving you. ADD ME ON THAT TOO, LOVE YOUUUU X0X0

stuck_with_u.png

my masterlist!

LOVE this lil munchkin ... he just likes you so much in a way you don't even understand 😭

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

made by writhyv.

he looks like ... home 😭🩵✨

reading MY oldest fic in a plane is WILD 😭😭😭

also AWWWWWW im in shambles this is so sweet, i luv u 😭🩵

I begged my mom to take this pic because I found it really funny, @writhyv's #1 fanboy (ty for providing for this starving nation 🙏🙏)

Marry me?

MSSNNDDJSN pls jake you cannot stalk me on your secret tumblr account 😭🖐️

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ αℓℓ мʏ ωσяκƨ ιи σиɛ ρℓαcɛ

⋆ note: as of now, all my works are very much sfw. however, they may still include mentions of various objects, sensitive topics, and suggestive themes. please read each warnings (if provided) and be guided accordingly. thank you! ⋆

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

YOUR IDOL GIVES YOU HIS NUMBER YOUR IDOL ANSWERS YOUR CALL YOUR IDOL WANTS TO SEE YOU AGAIN

fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader

YOUR DOMESTIC BOYFRIEND IS HERE YOUR DOMESTIC BOYFRIEND IGNORED YOU YOUR DOMESTIC BOYFRIEND AND YOU YOUR DOMESTIC BOYFRIEND COMFORTS YOU

tfw... | nishimura riki x male!reader

TFW WHEN A BAD DATE LEADS TO YOU... TFW WHEN YOUR DISTANCE CLOSES IN...

u got texts // drabbles by writhyv | text stories x reader

would you kiss me? | sim jaehyun x male!reader

JAKE PULLS YOU INTO A KISSING BOOTH JAKE, YOU, AND AN APOLOGY TOO JAKE AND HIS HEART BEATING FOR YOU

CELEBRATING VALENTINE'S DAY 2025 [NI-KI] PUSHING HIS BUTTONS TO FINALLY MAKE HIM CONFESS [SUNGHOON] YOU WERE ALWAYS IN HIS HEART [JAY, JAKE, NI-KI, SUNGHOON] YOUR BF COMFORTS YOU FROM UNWARRANTED HATE [JAY] COMING HOME TO YOUR POUTY BF [JAY] A DAY WITH YOUR BELOVED SUPERSTAR [SUNGHOON] A TABLE FOR TWO AND SUNFLOWERS TOO [JAKE] THE EYES, THEY NEVER LIE [JAKE] JAKE AND THE SIMULATION [SUNGHOON] JUST A LITTLE BITE

got me shakin' | park jongseong x male!reader

way back into love | park jongseong x male!reader

4/9/25: This masterlist will be revamped soon as the 'LEGACY MASTERLIST'. Stay tuned for the new one!

⋆｡°✩ [ch.1] for when you miss 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 — 1.5k

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 [COMING SOON]

The stage lights are too bright.

They always are—blinding, artificial suns that bleach the room into a watercolor blur. You squint against them, fingers absently strumming your guitar as the crowd murmurs beneath the clink of champagne glasses.

The venue is all exposed brick and twinkling fairy lights, the kind of place you’d have mocked two years ago. Now, you’re just background noise to someone else’s love story.

"You’re up next." Leah’s voice cuts through the hum, her manicured fingers digging into your shoulder—nervous energy. The sequins on her dress catch the light like shattered glass.

"Play something romantic. But, like… not too romantic. Sarah’s grandma thinks love songs are ‘sinful.’"

You snort, plucking a sour note on purpose. "So, no ‘Careless Whisper’?"

"God, no." She grins, but it fades fast.

Her eyes dart toward the crowd, then back to you. "Hey… you okay? You’ve been a little bit pale lately—"

"I’m fine." The lie tastes stale. You twist a tuning peg too hard; the string protests with a sharp twang.

“Oop?”

“There it goes~”

“Psh.” Leah exhales through her nose.

"Heads up, but Jay’s here."

Your fingers freeze mid-strum. You think the discordant echo hangs in the air—a fitting soundtrack.

"Shit," you mutter.

"She was Sarah’s tutor, so she had to invite him," she adds, her voice low.

"Just… brace yourself."

Your stomach knots. "… anyone with him?’"

"Tall brunette girl. Clean fit with a high pony. Around our age. Pretty. A lawyer too, I heard?" Leah grimaces. "She’s got that whole ‘I do hot yoga and would destroy you in court’ vibe."

"Fantastic." You reach for your water bottle, but your hands betray you—trembling just enough to make the plastic crinkle. The condensation drips onto your jeans, cold and clammy.

You don’t look. Not at first.

Instead, you bury yourself in the set—some anemic Ed Sheeran cover, then a neutered Beatles rendition.

Safe. Soulless. Distracting.

The crowd barely reacts. A few aunties tap their heels; a groomsman drunkenly mouths "play ‘Wonderwall’" at you. You ignore him.

But then Sarah, Leah’s new wife, commandeers the mic. Her grin is all mischief.

"Okay, time for a special request!" she announces like she’s not about to detonate a grenade in your chest.

"This one’s for all the hopeless romantics."

She looks at you with a grinning smile, almost teasing.

"Play Way Back Into Love!"

Of fucking course.

You haven’t touched this song since the breakup. Since … him.

Not because it’s hard—it’s easy, four chords and a melody so saccharine it should come with a dental warning—but because it was yours. The song you and Jay butchered in the car, harmonizing off-key until your lungs ached. The one he’d hum against your collarbone at 3 AM, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Now, here it is. Taunting you.

You take a breath—shaky, unsteady—and start playing.

"I’ve been living with a shadow overhead…"

Your voice cracks. You clear your throat and try again.

"I’ve been sleeping with a cloud above my bed…"

And then—because the universe is a sadistic bastard—you look towards the audience.

There he is.

Jay.

Sitting at a table near the back, wearing something so elegant you know the gods made it for him and only him to wear. His hair is bleached now, swept to the side in a way that suggests actual effort, and his fingers are wrapped tight around his champagne flute, knuckles blanching white.

And at that moment? He’s staring at you.

Not the polite, detached gaze of an ex. No—this is raw, hungry like he’s trying to memorize the way your lips shape the words he once whispered against your skin.

Your brain short-circuits.

"I’ve been—uh—" You fumble the lyric. "Solitary… something."

A few guests chuckle, mistaking it for charm.

Jay doesn’t laugh. His lips part, just slightly, like he’s about to sing along—but then she leans in.

The girlfriend.

Tall, brunette, with the posture of someone who’s never slouched a day in her life. She murmurs something in Jay’s ear, her manicured hand settling on his forearm—possessive.

Jay flinches. Just once. Then he looks away.

And just like that, the spell breaks.

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

You flee the stage the second the song ends, beelining for the bar like it’s salvation.

"Whiskey. Neat please," you tell the bartender. "Actually, make it a double."

As you sit there all alone, the first glass burns; the second barely registers. You’re halfway through your third when that voice cuts through the haze.

"You still forget the lyrics."

You turn.

Jay’s standing there, smirking, but his grip on his drink is white-knuckled.

"Yeah, well," you shrug, "some things never change."

A beat of silence. And then:

"You still sound good," Jay says softly.

"You look good," you blurt.

Shit.

His cheeks flush pink, but he doesn’t call you out. "Thanks.”

Just then, you notice an unfamiliar motion near you, a person almost to your side.

“Uh… and this is Naomi." He gestures to the woman beside him.

"Hi, Naomi Natten." She says, extending a hand. Her grip is firm, her smile polished. "Jay’s told me a lot about you."

You force a grin. "All lies, I’m sure."

Jay chokes on his drink.

Naomi, oblivious, laughs. "He said you’re a great musician. And, uh…" She glances at Jay. "That you burn toast like it’s your job. Is that true?"

"Wow," you deadpan. "That’s what stuck?"

Jay’s expression flickers—guilt? regret?—before he forces a chuckle. "Among other things."

Another silence.

You then stare into your whiskey, searching for words that don’t exist.

"So," you finally say, "how’d you two meet?"

"Law school," Naomi says brightly. "He was assisting one of our professors in one of my course subjects. I then had the guts to torture him into asking me out."

Jay rolls his eyes, but there’s affection in it. "She’s joking. Mostly."

"Mhm." You swallow the rest of your drink.

"Congratulations." God, it’s burning hot.

Silence stayed for a minute and let a smooth breeze in before a loud soundtrack played in the middle of the venue.

“Wait, let’s dance!” Distracted, Naomi pulled Jay’s arm, talking as if you weren’t even there.

"W-We should go," Jay says abruptly. "But… it was good seeing you." His voice was faltering as the music drowned his cadence.

He hesitates like he wants to say more, but Naomi’s already steering him toward the dance floor.

You watch them go, whiskey burning your throat.

"Yeah," you mutter. "Good seeing you too."

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

It was quiet when you got home, the kind of silence that makes your ears ring. The wedding's music still echoed in your head, as if remnants of melodies that wouldn't leave you alone.

As heat crept up your body, you took off almost everything that wrapped you until you got to your room - your suit jacket first, then the tie that felt like it had been choking you all night, and finally those fancy shoes that never quite felt right.

Feeling the bits of tiredness and exhaustion from the event you played in, your eyes landed on a simple cardboard box in the corner. It sat there like a time capsule, gathering dust in the shadows of your bedroom.

As simple as it was, it wasn't ever just one. It was tons of stacked boxes, old and new, each one holding pieces of your past. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else, but every box with it was tucked into the side after you moved in almost eight months ago, like you were trying to hide them even from yourself.

Walking groggily, fighting against the whiskey still warming your blood, you manage to carry one of them and land it on top of your soft mattress. The cardboard felt rough under your fingers, worn at the edges from too many moves.

Scrounging through your messy stuff - old receipts, notes from physics, forgotten birthday cards, ticket stubs from concerts you barely remember - you notice a gleaming antique at the bottom of it all. An old CD case with a scratched plastic cover, the kind nobody uses anymore.

With one gust of air, you wiped down every dust on its surface, watching the particles dance in the dim light of your bedroom lamp.

Opening the case with shaking hands, you see a vintage disk that almost shone brightly with its rainbow colors, like an oil slick caught in sunlight.

The sharpie on the label has faded, but the words still gut you:

FOR WHEN YOU MISS ME — JAY

You pop it into your ancient CD player, just an arm’s length from the box you’ve got it from.

Right there, the first and only track plays. Silence plays in the back as dread looms over what could play from this relic of your past.

"I’ve been living with a shadow overhead…"

You close your eyes, lingering in the presence of his silky voice.

And for the first time in four years, you let yourself remember.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — YOOOOOi never thought this day would come BUT does this qualify for angst? i'm not too sure cuz i've never really dove into the trope in terms of writing and also just had this asone of those dream fics i really wanted to write basedon tropes from the 2000s movies I oh so loved to watch RAHHHHH BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY ITTTTT also enha in la WOOO GO TEAM

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — get in here and request down below!

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]

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ [ch.3] for when you want 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 — 2.8k

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

The cold Manhattan air gave you a chill as you walked towards the path from East 5th. Swimming through the dozens of people that got to their own businesses for the day, Jay’s business card only felt like burning a hole in your side pocket.

You hadn’t slept.

Not after the bar. Not after you met him.

The card was still there when you woke up—creased from how tightly you’d gripped it, the edges digging into your palm like a guilty secret.

You should’ve thrown it out, yet here it is..

Instead, you found yourself standing outside Yves' Bean Over Eat, the café you and Jay used to haunt during finals week. Back then, the place had been a refuge—scented with overroasted beans and the sharp tang of sharpie ink on disposable cups.

Now, it was polished. Trendy. The kind of place you assumed Naomi would approve of.

"The usual?" The barista—new, unfamiliar—smiled expectantly.

You hesitated.

"...Yeah."

The lie tasted bitter. There was no usual anymore. Not since Jay left. Not since you traded slow mornings for studio call times and press junkets.

Luckily, they got your order right. You took a seat by the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of gray and gold.

Resting your back on the wooden furniture, your phone buzzed.

Mira: Atlas wants you in the studio by 11. New single’s getting pushed up.

You exhaled through your nose.

You: I’m asleep.

Mira: Clearly you’re not.

You: I’m sick?

Mira: Don’t ask me now?

You: Family affair?

Mira: What family?

You: Tell them I’m dead.

Mira: They’ll prop your corpse up on stage with a backing track.

You snorted into your matcha.

Then the bell above the door chimed.

And suddenly, Jay was there.

Blond hair slightly windswept, glasses that fit onto his face so perfectly, and a dark loose turtleneck kept in wraps under a plaid sleeve clung to his shoulders like it was made for him.

At that one second, his eyes locked onto yours, wide with surprise—as if he hadn’t spent the last 24 hours lying awake hoping you’d come.

As if he hadn’t spent the last four years regretting everything.

Slowly, he walked himself up to where you were, hesitant at first to really know if it was really you.

With enough courage to muster, he spoke words like it was his first time doing so.

"H-hey," he said, his voice rough.

Your grip tightened around the cup. "Hi."

Jay hesitated, then slid into the seat across from you. Close enough to touch. Too far to reach.

"...You came."

You shrugged, staring into your matcha. "I like the foam here."

A lie.

Jay knew it.

Somehow, he always did.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the table—a habit he’d never kicked.

"Listen, about last night—"

"Don’t." You cut him off, sharper than intended. "Just… don’t."

Jay flinched.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

Outside, a taxi honked. A couple laughed. Life moved on.

Then, softly—

"I miss you."

Your breath hitched.

Jay wasn’t looking at you. He was staring at his hands, knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table. "I know I shouldn’t say that. I know it’s—fuck, it’s selfish. But I do."

The admission hung in the air between you, fragile as spun glass.

You could shatter it with one word.

Instead, you whispered—

"I miss you too."

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes searching yours like he’d misheard. Like he’d dreamed this moment a thousand times and still wasn’t prepared for it.

Then his phone buzzed.

Unknown Caller.

The damage was done.

You stood abruptly, chair screeching against the floor. "I should go."

"Wait—" Jay caught your wrist. His touch was warm. Familiar. "Please."

You froze.

His thumb brushed over your pulse point—once, twice—before he let go. "...Can we try this again? Just… us. For real."

You wanted to say yes.

You wanted to run.

In the end, you did neither.

"I’ll think about it," you murmured.

Jay exhaled, slow and shaky. "Okay."

You left before he could see your hands tremble.

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

The studio lights were blinding.

You squinted against them, headphones crushing your skull as the producer’s voice crackled through the intercom.

"One more take. From the bridge."

You clenched your jaw.

This song was garbage.

Poppy, soulless, manufactured—everything you’d sworn you’d never make. But Atlas had quotas. Algorithms. A bottom line that didn’t care about artistic integrity.

You took a breath.

And sang.

The lyrics tasted like ash.

"I’m over you, I’m over us—

don’t need your love, don’t need your touch."

A lie.

The worst kind.

When the track finally ended, you ripped the headphones off, tossing them onto the console.

Mira arched a brow from the corner. "Dramatic, aren’t we?"

"Buzz off," you laughed dryly.

She tossed you a water bottle. "So. Jay."

Your throat closed.

Mira smirked. "You’re worse than a telenovela, you know that?"

"I hate you."

"Liar." She nudged your shoulder. "Talk."

You slumped against the soundproof wall, sliding down until you hit the floor. "...I don’t know what I’m doing."

Mira joined you, stretching her legs out. "Do you want to know?"

That was the problem.

You did.

And it terrified you.

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

The call came at 2 AM.

Your phone lit up the darkened bedroom, Unknown Caller flashing across the screen like a ghost.

You stared at it.

Let it ring.

On the last vibration, you picked up.

"Hey." His voice was rough with sleep. Or something else.

"...Hey." You could hear relief at some point by the way he answered you.

A beat. Then—

“Sutton Place, was it?”

Your face crumpled in curiosity. “Say that again?”

"I’m outside."

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, you padded to the window, peeling back the curtain.

There he was.

Leaning against his car, face tipped up toward your townhome. The streetlight caught the gold in his hair, the curve of his jaw.

God did he look so beautiful.

You swallowed hard. "...Why?"

Jay’s breath crackled through the speaker. "Because I can’t stop thinking about you."

Simple. Honest.

Devastating.

You closed your eyes and made your choice.

The predawn air bit at your exposed ankles as you descended the townhouse steps, the wrought iron railing cold under your palm.

Jay stood exactly where you'd seen him from your bedroom window—not under the glow of the streetlamp like some romantic cliché, but half-shadowed where the light didn't quite reach, as if even now he couldn't fully step into the light.

"You came down," he said, voice scraped raw. His hands flexed at his sides like he wanted to reach for you, like they'd forgotten they weren't allowed to anymore.

You tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt nervously, fingers curling into the worn fabric. "You called. And here I am, against my better judgment."

A taxi rumbled past, its headlights catching the hollows under his eyes, the new sharpness to his jaw. This Jay was both familiar and foreign—the boy you loved sanded down into a man by time and choices and the kind of regret that carves itself into bone.

The Bentley parked haphazardly behind him gleamed under the streetlights, but neither of you mentioned it. Some truths didn't need saying out loud.

"You shouldn't be here," you said, but your feet stayed rooted to the pavement.

Right there, he can only reciprocate a breath — eyes tracing your tousled hair, and even the worn NYU sweatshirt you’d stolen from him years ago.

You tightened your arms around yourself. "You’re blocking a five-million-dollar driveway, by the way."

Jay snorted, raking a hand through his windswept hair. "Still can’t believe you live here. When I saw the address on your tour rider, I thought it was a typo."

You sighed, knowing full well how he was able to get that kind of information. He was always smart when it came to you and your whereabouts.

“Leah?”

“Sarah, actually.”

“Oh …. that also makes sense.” You laughed it off.

The city air was quiet, almost as if it was drowning you both in the most tender moment between night and dawn.

"Atlas pays well for selling your soul," you said, watching his smile die.

Jay exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "You would say that."

The first time he'd shown up unannounced back at your old dorm, it had been 2 AM after a fight with his father. Now here he was again—your personal ghost, arriving at the most liminal hour between dusk and dawn.

"Let's go somewhere," he said, nodding toward his car.

You could have said no. Should have, probably. But the look in his eyes—that quiet, shattered hope—had always been your undoing.

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

The diner was nearly empty, the vinyl booths cracked with age and the air thick with the scent of burnt coffee. You slid into the corner seat—your seat, the one you’d claimed a lifetime ago during late-night study sessions and stolen kisses over shared milkshakes.

Jay paused by the table, his fingers brushing the chipped laminate. "Jesus. They still haven’t replaced these?"

"Some things don’t change," you said, watching as he eased into the seat across from you. The booth was smaller than you remembered. Or maybe you’d just forgotten how close you used to sit.

The waitress—Marge, according to her nametag, though she hadn’t been here last time—dropped two menus on the table without looking up. "Coffee?"

"Please," Jay said.

"Cola." you added. Jay looked at you with concern etched on his features.

Marge grunted and shuffled off, her orthopedic shoes squeaking against the tile.

“At three in the morning?”

“You know I stack up Diet every day for this.” You smiled. “That small fridge we had was my lifeline.”

“To this day?” He spat in shock, but not surprised. Almost as if just taken aback of the old habit.

“I mean, I can afford a mean inverter double door refrigerator.” You jest. It is true, you can definitely afford that luxury now.

“I wasn’t talking about the amount of colas you can stack in a fridge.” Jay sighed, your usual bickering setting the tone for the conversation—familiar, easy, the kind of back-and-forth that used to mean something more.

But it didn’t mean that now.

There was no playful shove after, no rolling your eyes just to hide a smile. No lingering glances that said I’m only joking, teasing to see your face crumple so cutely.

Before, this would’ve been the part where you leaned in, just a little, brushing your lips against his cheek before he could finish his next sentence. Before, he would’ve reached under the table, fingers threading through yours like it was nothing, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Now, it was just words. Just two people talking, nothing hiding between the lines.

And that was the worst part—knowing exactly what it wasn’t anymore.

“It’s better than whiskey.” You retorted. Jay can only look at you with a simple gaze.

Jay drummed his fingers against the table — still the nervous habit he’d never kicked.

"So."

"So."

Another silence. The kind that should’ve been awkward but wasn’t. The kind that felt like picking up a conversation you’d only paused.

Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know where to start."

"Try the beginning," you said softly.

He met your gaze then, his dark eyes searching yours. "The beginning’s messy."

You huffed a laugh. "Since when have we ever been squeaky clean?"

Something in his expression fractured. For a second, you thought he might reach across the table. Might bridge the distance with his fingertips like he used to.

Instead, he folded his hands together. "I was wrong."

The words landed like a punch.

"About what?" you asked, though you already knew.

"Everything." Jay’s voice cracked. "The band. The label. You. I thought—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I thought I was protecting you. From the industry. From selling out. From … losing yourself."

Your chest ached. "And instead?"

The words sat there, heavy between you, like waiting for a wound to finally bleed.

"Instead—" He stopped, jaw tightening like the words were sharp in his mouth, like they might cut him on the way out. His voice dropped lower, rough at the edges.

"I lost you."

Just like that. No take-backs, no pretending it didn’t happen.

Silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. You could hear his breath, uneven, like he’d been holding it too long. Like he hadn’t meant to say it—or maybe he had, and that was worse.

And there it was, laid out between you: the truth, bare and ugly. With no way to get it back.

Marge returned with your drinks, the mugs landing with a sharp clack against the worn formica. The drinks you’ve ordered sloshed over the rims, bearing no noise as the silence surrounded you. You waited until she’d shuffled off, her orthopedic shoes squeaking against the linoleum, before speaking.

"You didn’t lose me," you said, so quiet the words barely carried over the hum of the neon sign outside. "You let me go."

Jay flinched like you’d struck him. His fingers tightened around his mug, knuckles whitening, but he didn’t look up.

Outside, a garbage truck groaned past, its headlights cutting through the diner’s grease-smeared windows. For a second, the light caught the lines around Jay’s eyes—new ones, ones you didn’t recognize.

The clock above the counter ticked, each second louder than the last, marking time you couldn’t get back.

Funny, how everything kept moving. The world didn’t stop just because something broke.

He stared at the chipped mug the waitress dropped in front of him. "I dream about this place," he admitted quietly. "Wake up reaching for you across cold sheets."

Your breath caught. Four years. Four years of radio silence, of carefully curated distance, and he says this like it's nothing. Like the words weren't grenades.

"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's fingers traced along the table napkins he has on the table—around and around in a nervous circle. "Because I saw you play last week. Really play, not that polished Atlas bullshit." His eyes met yours, dark and desperate. "And back at the wedding? You forgot the lyrics to 'Way Back Into Love' again. Just like you always did."

The admission hung between you, fragile as the morning light beginning to creep through the diner's grimy windows.

Jay reached across the table, his fingers hovering just shy of yours. "I thought I finally nailed it and I was doing the right thing. Letting you chase your dreams without me holding you back." His throat worked as he swallowed.

"But watching you up there in person again after all this time—you looked just as trapped as I felt."

The truth of it lodged in your ribs. Atlas's golden cage. The songs you didn't write. The versions of yourself you'd whittled away to fit their mold.

Jay's phone buzzed—once, twice—lighting up with Naomi's name. He didn't reach for it.

"I should go," you said, standing abruptly.

Jay caught your wrist, his grip feather-light. "Please, stay."

Two words. That's all it took for the walls to crumble.

His request hung in the air, simple yet devastating.

The radio in the kitchen crackled to life with your latest hit—all polish and production, nothing like the raw songs you used to write. Then your voice floated through the static, singing lyrics you barely remembered writing. The label had polished every rough edge off that song, sanded it down until it was shiny and hollow. A hit, but not yours. Not really.

Jay’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his thumb finding the flutter of your pulse.

"You must hate that song," he murmured.

You swallowed hard. The chorus swelled, saccharine and overproduced. "I hate most of them now."

Jay stood slowly, his free hand lifting—hovering near your cheek, close enough that you felt the warmth of his palm but not the touch. Waiting. Always waiting for your permission, even now.

The diner’s door chimed as another customer entered, the bell jangling. A gust of cold morning air rushed in, carrying the smell of the city streets and exhaust. Neither of you moved.

"Call me," you whispered, pulling away. Your voice barely carried over the radio. "This time, when you’re really ready to talk about … us."

You stepped out into the dawn, the weight of his gaze following you like a second shadow. Behind you, the phone buzzed again—persistent, impatient.

You didn’t look back.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — THIRD ONE OUT!!1 ive got a week off and i'm sooo gonna rest, but ofc i an't forget my duty as a humble writer, and so here it is!! the third chapter ... oooh fascinating developments~ we'll see how it boils down!!

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 💘

OH MY FUFSKVDING SHAYLA 😭😭😭💙💙💙 i wanna holdin my arms IASIHFV9AASJCVOKSJLASF

JAKE.