summary: jake comes in to your flower shop day after day to buy flowers. (jake x florist!reader)
--
The door chime jingles. You look up and see a tall man with his hair slicked back under his cap and scars on his face walk into the shop.
"Welcome, let me know if you need any help."
"Sure," he flashes you a warm smile and has a look around the store.
He pauses in front of the carnations display, scratching his head while glancing back at his phone screen. You peer over at him curiously.
You start to walk over to him ready to offer assistance, but he immediately swivels around, surprised to see you standing closer to him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just-"
"No, please don't be sorry. I'll just get these...uh..."
"The mini carnations?"
He nods with a sheepish smile.
After he pays for the carnations, you watch him leave and walk across the street from the storefront window with a sigh. He was kinda cute, you think to yourself.
-
You're unpacking a delivery in the storage area when you hear the door jingle. You do a quick wipe of your hands on your apron and emerge from the back, pleasantly surprised to see the same man from yesterday.
He flashes you his signature smile.
He continues walking through the shop and lingers in front of the daffodil display. “Do you have any recommendations?”
His warm brown eyes meet yours.
“Well, what’s the person you’re planning on giving these flowers to like?”
“Lovely, but...prickly?”
You contemplate his vague answer, flipping through the encyclopedia of flowers in your florist brain.
He picks up a bouquet of roses to take a whiff, then nods his head in your direction. “What about you? What’s your favorite flower?”
“Me? Hm... I really like honeysuckles. I like that they represent both true happiness and first love. Plus they smell nice."
“That’s pretty,” he murmurs.
He remains deep in thought gazing at the display in front of him, then heads to the register with a daffodil bouquet.
"Not a fan of my expert suggestion, huh," you jest.
He laughs. "No, just...not for this person."
Curious, you open your mouth to speak, but decide not to pry.
You notice the way his hands wrap around the bouquet, sensing strength but also softness. You find yourself staring at his fingers a little too long before snapping out of your wandering thoughts.
He gives you a wave as he exits the shop, and you can't help returning his smile.
-
You watch him from behind the counter, back for the third time this week. Your heart flutters at the sight of him, but this time your eyes also follow him with a bit more wariness.
He does a brief circle of the shop before haphazardly plucking a pink rose out and placing it in front of the register.
You clear your throat a little. “Why do you buy a different flower every time you come here?"
“For my seven girlfriends, of course.”
You scoff at the confirmation of your suspicion, but why do you feel so disappointed, a little hurt even, to hear him say that?
“Actu-”
“That’ll be 29,600 won,” you reply curtly.
“Oh. Sure,” he fishes his wallet out of his pocket.
You look out the store window and let out a deep sigh as he leaves.
You head to the back to continue cutting stems so you can keep yourself busy. Whatever, another one-sided crush to get over.
-
“Pink roses again?” You avoid eye contact with him as you ring him up.
“Yeah, it looks like I finally found one my mom likes,” he smiles.
You pause in the middle of entering the numbers into the register screen. “Your mom?”
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to visit her more often and make it up to her by getting her flowers every time I visit. I guess she was still pretty mad at me, since she refused to tell me what types of flowers she actually likes and kept me guessing,” he laughs.
You try not to crumple onto the floor in embarrassment of your dramatic reaction the other day.
“Oh, right, can I get one more thing?”
You nod. “Sure.”
“Can I get the bouquet with the honeysuckles and red roses?”
You reach for the bouquet behind the counter, sighing to yourself. You wish someone would get you a bouquet this romantic including your favorite flower.
You ring up his purchase and hand him the bouquet.
“Thank you,” he says as his fingers brush over yours.
He reaches back out to you while holding the bouquet.
You chase after the bus in vain as it pulls away from the bus stop and disappears further down the street. You heave, out of breath.
You check the bus schedule on your phone. 30 minutes until the next bus, at least. Goddamnit.
“Oh, hey! You’re the pretty first-year from the other day, right?”
Your head whips around, and you see Mary standing behind you leaning against a motorbike.
“Where you headed? You need a ride?”
“Oh, you don’t have to, I live in Gwangjin, so...”
“That’s on my way, don’t worry about it. Hop on.”
She swings one leg over to mount her motorbike, and hands you a jet-black helmet. You tentatively put it over your head and get on behind her.
“Hold on tight!”
You wrap your arms around her waist and feel the warmth of her body permeating through the cool leather of her jacket.
The sound of the engine whirring below you fills your ears as Mary takes off and weaves in and out of traffic like a pro.
Soon, the two of you fly past a green bus, which after a double take you realize is the bus you had just missed earlier.
Your heartbeat quickens as it feels like all of your senses have been set alive. Your commute home from school usually so mundane that this is almost exhilirating in comparison.
You tilt your chin up to rest it on Mary’s shoulder. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in as the two of you speed down the streets of central Seoul.
-
The motorbike skids to a stop next to the bus stop on your street.
You dismount and hand the helmet back to her.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say.
She smiles and opens her mouth to speak just as her phone rings.
She looks at the contact on her screen and already rolls her eyes before picking up.
“What.”
“Mary, where the fuck did you go?? I can’t see anything, you gotta come help me,” Vinjin’s voice half-barks, half-whines through the speaker.
“What the fuck are you on about? Where are you?”
“I don’t know, I’m still near school I think, everything’s so dark, MaryyYYyyY-”
Mary inhales and hangs up. “Eugh. That helpless moron,” she mutters.
“Well, I gotta go, but hey, you should text me some time!” She gently knocks her shoulder into yours with a smile.
“Oh, okay, but I-”
The engine of her bike starts running and she puts her helmet on. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”
You watch as the blonde and her bike disappear down the road.
“-don’t have your number.”
You exhale and turn to walk down your block to your house, feeling like you’re walking on a cloud for some reason.
G/N. So soft. Brainrotting with @steamedeggs over who else?
Jake can always make you smile. It's maybe the one thing he prides himself on above all. Above his fighting skills, above his natural leadership, above his charisma, above (though he will never say this aloud) Big Deal.
He can pull a smile from your lips, the kind that reaches your eyes and makes him puff his chest out with pride, as easily as he pulls laughter (reluctant or otherwise) from your tongue.
It's a gift, at least he likes to think so.
And a gift only he is bestowed with (again, at least he likes to think so).
.
.
The frequency of your smiles drop. The wattage of your beam declines. You mention that the grind of everyday is wearing you down, pressures from your workload dulling your shine.
Jake can sense your half hearted 'lol' and 'haha' through text, your perfunctory laughter down the phone.
Even tonight, together after being like two ships passing for weeks; his well-timed wordplay, his goofy faces and silliness which is usually a surefire hit - misses its target.
The smile never reaches your tired eyes.
Jake deflates. He swallows down the pout on his lips and instead wraps his arms around you as you sigh against his shoulder.
He holds you for seconds, for minutes, for perhaps hours until your tension starts to ebb away and you begin to feel like yourself again.
You sigh once more.
"Better?" comes the low timbre of his voice.
You're silent but he feels you nodding.
Then. Finally. You reward him.
A small chuckle, breath ghosting his skin, like bright rays cutting across storm grey clouds.
In Jake's arms, you feel light as air. Your laughter lifts him, and he floats along beside you.
Any Jakey or Sammy hc you have but got nowhere to put them?
my beloved ramen!! ty for sending this in big sibling i am answering this so late lol this is all i've got so far that my single brain cell could come up with but i might edit it to add more later🤔
Random Headcanons for Jake and Samuel
Jakey
likes red flavored sweet things - tenten, red velvet cake, cherry chapstick
capricorn with some scorpio and sag (and maybe cancer?) placements
he is Pekkle from Sanrio
good at cooking just 1-2 dishes - and one of them is ramen
also makes a decent tasting protein shake but that doesn't count
continues to try following tiktok recipes though and has not succeeded yet
teases you a lot but if he ends up hurting your feelings in any way he would start swinging at himself to try to cheer you up
will square up with any piece of furniture you trip over or bump into
bisexual king
go-to outfit for chilling at home is a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants
quit smoking once they freed Sinu from 2A
has trouble falling asleep sometimes, likes to sleep in
Sammy
Badtz Maru from Sanrio
actually needed glasses growing up but couldn't afford them and as a kid figured it's better to not give the school bullies another reason to pick on him anyway, but finally got classes once he was in Workers
also bi probably maybe
probably a scorpio
used to get carsick but it's improved over time
fave candy is malang cow plain milk candy
hates the holidays (bad memories)
always picks out his outfit the night before
both stays up late and wakes up early
has read so many of those self-help books except the ones about trauma
enjoys music but tries not to indulge in it because he finds it a waste of time
and here's some self-indulgent random bonus pics of sanrio jake duck and sammy bird
Reaction of Lookism & HTF characters to reader forgetting to kiss them in established relationship - like reader is an independent working person even before they met each other, and in all the hectic schedule of their work, they just forget?
It's alright if you don't want to, don't feel pressured❣️
It's just a random thought ⊂((・▽・))⊃
hi!! sorry this is soo late lol work beating my ass as usual🥹 i hope school's been more chill for you lately/that you get a break soon!!
i included your fave then ended up picking some more non j high boys for this since my last hcs were for the j high boys😌 and i don't write for htf on here at the moment and wasn't planning to but..maybe i'll add a lil bonus at the end lol. ty for the suggestion!🫶
Lookism boys reacting to S/O forgetting their goodbye kiss before work
(Johan, Jake, Samuel)
Johan Seong
would lowkey SULK like there's no tomorrow. would not bring it up first though
but he tries to tough out it out, like the babygirl turned malewife-in-training he is
when you get home, tries to get a kiss by holding Miru up to you next to his face, pouting
but the both of them just get a head pat from you
ends up grumbling about how that's not what he wanted but whatever
leaving you confused but you quickly pick up on what he wants, having become perceptive after all these years of being with him that your boyfriend is not forthcoming with wanting affection
a blushing mess and pretends to hate it when you finally shower him with kisses
Jake Kim
notices pretty soon after you leave the house that you hadn't kissed him this morning, or yesterday either now that he thinks about it
barely pays attention during his Big Deal meetings, just sitting there furrowing his brow, trying to figure out whether he’s done something to make you mad at him
was the omelette he cooked for breakfast that bad?? he was just trying to expand his cooking repertoire beyond just instant ramen...
texts you that he'll get dinner for the both of you tonight, then buys takeaway from your favorite restaurant and also stops to get your favorite snacks before coming home
it's when you get home and trudge your tired body to him to give him a hug that he realizes it wasn't because you were mad at him after all
grins when you finally plant a big kiss on him while enjoying your fave meal after a long day of work
Samuel Seo
is unbothered, mostly. He has his own work to attend to anyway.
but as his day goes on, starts to feel unsettled but has no idea why??
this mf ends up being even more prickly than usual at work
gets home even later than you do tonight, and you nonchalantly give him a kiss before getting ready for bed
feels his ears turning red as his mood immediately improves and he finally realizes why he's felt off all day
well since you're here anyway, he'll steal another kiss from you now for tomorrow. or five
+ bonus: HTF - Taehoon Seong
this little shit would nip it in the bud real quick
catches up to you fast with his long ass legs after you rush out the door without kissing him goodbye, yelling "HEY!"
"you forgot something, dumbass" "???"
after planting a kiss on you, smirks and shoves you "hurry up now, you're gonna be late"
and you of course smack him with your bag as revenge for shoving you and smile at your boyfriend while running off as he curses at you
i loved ur delinquent gun x reader fic sm 😭😭 are you thinking of a part 2?
aw this brought a smile to my face thank u sm for reading!!🥹 tbh i was not planning on it lool but...maybe i will consider doing a part 2 some time for u anonie
I Was wondering if I could make a request, like the lookism boys (you can choose) react to an extremely beautiful and ethereal fem!reader who looks so pretty and feminine she looks like a princess from a fairytail
Of course if you want, remember to stay safe and healthy!!!
HI!! aww thank you sm!!!🥹🫶🫶 sorry this took so long this is my first time writing hcs instead of my usual fic format but turns out actually writing it took exponentially less time than the time i spent thinking about it lool but here you go anonie! i did the j high boys so ended up making it more specific to a school context :)
hope you're staying safe and healthy too!!!🥹💖
Lookism J High boys react to pretty new girl (fem!reader)
(Daniel, Zack, Vasco, Vin)
Daniel Park
Daniel looks up from his seat at you as you enter the room, everyone already murmuring about the gorgeous new girl.
He gets up to introduce himself to you and ask for your name, not paying any mind to all the positive attention you're already getting.
He knows firsthand how daunting it is to start at a new school and has had extensive personal experience feeling ostracized in his life. So he wants to make sure others don't have to go through the same thing if he has any say in it, and regardless of what you look like (although he of course notices how pretty and ethereal you look, too.)
Zack Lee
Zack would wake up from his desk nap from being blinded by a bright ass light flooding into the classroom as you walk in. Squinting and grumbling with dried drool on the corner of his mouth.
He would stare at you and your beauty in awe for a quick second, then-
"Wait. You're not Mira, the fuck."
Then he'd go back to sleep.
Vasco
"There's a new girl? In the Architecture Department?!" The Burn Knuckles members jump off of each other, quitting their horseplay to hover near the doorway in anticipation.
The moment you walk in, gasps and oohs and ahs can be heard from the guys. Your long hair flowing down your shoulders in the most perfect way and you dazzling the room with your pretty smile without even trying.
A single, fat tear rolls down Vasco's cheek.
"V-Vasco! Why are you crying, you haven't even tried talking to her yet!" Jace attempts to comfort his friend in vain.
Vin Jin
Vin rubs his hands together, smirking and plotting what he's going to say to you to charm your pants off. The usual should be fine-
"Don't even think about it." Mary says without looking up from her phone.
"What the fuck are you on abou-"
"Leave the poor girl alone, you fucking dimwit." Mary pulls Vin by the ear and leads him down the hallway away from you, ignoring his curses and whining.
She lets go, throwing him as he staggers further down the hall in the opposite direction.
Vin turns his head to look around, completely disoriented by being suddenly thrown into this dimmer, different section of the hallway. He squints through his sunglasses and reaches out, fumbling around with empty air.
"Mary?! Dammit, where are you?" He calls out helplessly.
hii may i ask for a gun x reader fic, where we just utterly despite our delinquent gun as a normal student, yet he loves us? like, he never makes it obvious but we just hate him, his attitude, his behavior etc, since he always interfere in bloody stuff which we r scared of.. love ya<3
hi anon! thank u for sending in this ask!! tbh writing for gun is a struggle for me but i tried lol also hope u don't mind i went in a slightly different direction with your idea🥹🫶
strawberry milk & cigarettes (gun park x reader)
summary: gun meets gian high school's #1 student.
--
"Yamazaki Yuzuru, to the principal's office. Now."
The class erupts into hushed whispers about the summoned new kid - a delinquent rumored to be making his way throughout Japan in order to study different martial arts, a fighting prodigy of sorts.
Gun stands up and makes his way to the classroom door. A turn of his head paired with a cold glare shuts everyone up, leaving a few of your classmates shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
Meanwhile, you're sat there tuning all of this out, head buried in your notebook. Devoting 100% of your concentration to rewriting your notes from the previous class.
Gun is on his way to walking past your desk, but stops in front of it when something catches his attention.
He looks down at your notebook, the pages inscribed with perfectly straight lines of neat handwriting coupled with color-coordinated evenly highlighted blocks. The layers of organization, the penmanship - it's impressive, really.
You feel a pair of eyes on you and notice an inked forearm in front of you peeking through the rolled up black sleeve of his gakuran jacket. Ugh. Great. Another disruptive thug attending this institution, another potential obstacle to your simple goal of pursuing an education.
You finally slowly raise your head to look up at him, unsure why this weirdo is staring at you.
"Can I help y-"
Gun smirks and turns around before your eyes even meet his, walking off before you can finish your sentence.
Leaving you appalled at his complete lack of manners, but with nothing to do but return to your meticulous notes task.
-
"Okay, everyone, pass your homework up to the front."
You turn to the seat behind you to take Gun's paper and you catch a glimpse of the bottom of his sleeve, still bloodied from the fight he just had before class. Your face scrunches up in disgust.
You glance down at his paper and the absolutely illegible chicken scratch scrawled onto it. You can't help but grimace. "What's wrong with your handwriting?"
"Why is it any of your business?"
You scoff at his reply. "Rude bastard," you mutter under your breath.
He leans forward in his seat, a strand of his slicked back black hair falling in front of his face. "What did you just say?"
You're not sure what it is - maybe it's the irritability from lack of sleep, or the academic stress you've been experiencing tenfold this week, or the fact that this new punk's mere existence in your space is starting to get on your nerves. Maybe it's all of the above.
You whip your head back around to face him. "I called you a rude bastard."
He gives you an unreadable stare. The class suddenly falls silent. Shit, maybe you said that a little bit louder than you had intended.
You turn back around in your seat and pass the stack of papers up, both annoyance and embarrassment coursing through you.
Gun's lips curl into an amused smile at the first words anyone at this school has dared utter to his face while looking him in the eye.
-
You walk over to the vending machine down the hall during break time, already fishing for your wallet in anticipation.
Your friend catches up to you and nudges you with her elbow.
"What was that?! You just insulted an actual member of the Yamazaki family!" She says in a hushed voice.
You stare blankly at your friend. "The who?"
"Yamazaki family, of the Yakuza."
You pause. "Wait, he's an actual kid of a Yakuza family? I thought he was just a random pathetic teenage thug nobody..." you mumble. Huh. Maybe it would've served you to not have insulted someone with the ties to actually kill you and get away with it.
You glance at your watch with a wave of your hand. "You know what, I don't have time for this. I'm gonna get my strawberry milk and go study."
You frown as your eyes settle on the empty spiral behind the vending machine window before you. "Aw, they're all out."
Your friend suggests you just buy one of the other drinks instead, but you sigh and tell her to forget it.
Gun, who totally hasn't been trailing a few steps behind you or anything, turns on his heel and beckons one of his new lackeys over.
He opens his mouth, then pauses. "Nevermind, I'll do it myself."
...
Gun's eyes flit between the similar looking white and pink cans of Sangaria Strawberry Milk and Suntory Strawberry Milk sitting on the convenience store refrigerator shelf.
"Dammit, why are there so many strawberry milk brands," he mutters to himself.
He quickly snatches both of them and walks over to the register to pay.
He jogs across the street back to school. He tries to discreetly leave both cans on your desk before the rest of the class trickles back in as break time comes to an end.
You cautiously pick up one of the cans of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, glancing around the room. Uh, what the... Did someone leave these for you?
You lift and inspect the can. "Do you think this could be poisoned?"
Your friend rolls her eyes. "It's a sealed can. Maybe you just have a secret admirer," she says with a grin and nudge.
It's your turn to roll your eyes at her. You shrug and pop open the can. Your spirits instantly lift after your first sip of the creamy fruity beverage.
Gun watches from his desk with his cheek resting in his palm. A faint, extremely weird unfamiliar feeling beginning to stir in his chest.
-
Gun rests his arms on the railing of the upper section of the roof. He takes a long drag of his cigarette.
The door to the lower level of the roof swings open, and to his surprise, it's you walking in. You don't notice him since he remains out of your line of sight unless you look up.
It's been a long, long school day. After pulling another all-nighter studying last night, you're stressed out and sleep-deprived.
You know you should kick this bad habit, maybe after this exam season ends. Which is also what you told yourself last exam season, but whatever. You fumble your cardigan pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and begin to light one.
Gun raises his eyebrows then chuckles at the sight of Gian High School's perfect and pristine #1 student of all people smoking, and smoking on school grounds to top it off.
You whip your head around at the noise.
Gun immediately ducks his head under the wall thanks to his lightning-quick reflexes.
Nothing but a blank wall behind you. Huh. Maybe the sleep deprivation has you hearing shit now, too.
After enough moments pass, he slowly lifts his head and peeks over the ledge at the back of your silhouette.
He smiles and puts out his own cig, beginning to make his way back in through the stairway door. Your little secret safe with him.
Samuel should hate Jake with every fibre of his being.
(A small, ugly part of him does. Green eyed and resentful and monstrous.)
Should have seen him as competition, only as the competition. A rival vying for the position at the top. Both racing towards the finish line, for the throne and the crown and the sceptre.
Except-
There is so much more to Jake Kim than meets the eye. He's not just the person he fights with. He's who he fights alongside, working towards a common goal, protecting Big Deal Street, together shoulder to shoulder during the Golden Era. The Yang to his Yin.
Until-
.
.
Jake is Gapyrong's son.
They're not brothers.
They're not brothers and it complicates and simplifies everything all at once.
Any camaraderie dissipates with that discovery. The closeness, the budding relationship. The smiles and the inside jokes and the laughter.
Quiet shared cigarettes passing between fingers and lips, standing close enough to breathe in each other's exhaled smoke. Drinks on the pier, watching the tide ebb and reflect the golden sunsets; mouth grazing metal where the other's had been only seconds ago.
All gone.
What remains, is anger and resentment, at least from Samuel.
What remains are barbed words and unwarranted sneers until blows are exchanged. Bodies marked by one another, just like their first meeting. As if all the days together, reading each other's thoughts with a look, the intimacy once upon a time, meant nothing.
What remains, is confusion, at least from Jake.
What remains, for them both, is hurt.
When your body mourns and your soul knows something is deeply wrong, yet the pain is too raw and too fresh so all you can do is sit with it. Try and make peace. Try and heal.
.
.
Samuel leaves.
Sinu is gone, Jake inherits Big Deal and all of its problems, and Samuel leaves.
The hurt and pain never heals. There is no answer and no closure because Samuel leaves.
Samuel leaves, taking away his smarts and his wits and a part of Jake.
Samuel leaves and Jake Kim no longer has an equal.
.
.
Jake taps on the name.
Fingers moving of its own accord, possessed by a mind of their own, his current one cloudy with alcohol.
He expects nothing. An out of service automated message, his number to be blocked, the call to ring out at best. What he doesn't expect is the click of the phone and quiet breathing on the other side.
That Jake recognises, can never forget. The controlled, even, inhale and exhale. Has heard in time with own, has felt the heat prickling his skin. Breaths minging together, the gap never quite closing, the moment never feeling right. Back then.
Jake’s mouth runs. He hears himself asking when he's going to come back. He thinks there's a huff of laughter down the phone but he can't be sure.
He doesn't say anything else after that. Samuel doesn't speak at all. For a little while, they just listen to the sound of each other breathing.
.
.
A habit forms, and it's a terrible habit.
Jake allows himself to think about him when the world is hushed and the night is silent. When his only company are the twilight stars and the bitterness of beer.
He's never drunk, not even tipsy. Just enough to find an excuse and to pin his actions on liquid courage.
The calls are infrequent.
Nothing of consequence is ever spoken about, at first. They just listen to each other breathing, sometimes. Sometimes Jake talks. Samuel never reacts beyond a few grunts, occasionally a ghost of a chuckle but Jake can always feel his smile down the phone.
Maybe the worst habit of all is one Samuel can't break out of: he picks up every time.
.
.
"I've still got your old jacket."
.
.
"Things aren't great here."
.
.
"We're trying to make money through other means."
.
.
"I hate what I'm putting the boys through."
.
.
Samuel answers, he always does.
This time Jake knows there is something wrong. His breathing is ragged, laboured.
Jake asks, soft and not for the first time, "How you holding up?" and expects silence, just like all the occasions before.
Samuel's voice comes through. Strained and stiff, like he's ready to snap.
(Still, Jake can't help but think about how much he has missed hearing that timbre.)
He mentions the breakup of Gangseo Union and Gun Park's reaction. Words jumbling together, barely making any sense. Sharp and biting at times, lost and fearful at others.
Jake listens until dawn breaks and Samuel's voice turns raspy and hoarse.
In the cold morning light, their distance is apparent. The way their life is moving in different directions is glaring. More than anything, Jake wants to hold him and tell him it's going to be fine.
He can do neither.
Instead he offers a small vulnerability, another piece of himself, and tells Samuel that he misses him.
The quiet chuckle, the first sign of lucidity in hours, traverses the distance and makes its way to Jake's ears.
.
.
The ice breaks and thaws.
A bigger part of Samuel breaks and fractures too.
He gives in. He reciprocates.
Once in a blue moon, Samuel will call Jake. When his heart is weak and his resolve wanes and his defences are down. 3am calls to vent and talk and Jake will quietly ask "how are you doing" and Samuel will sigh and think about Big Deal.
Think about Jake Kim sitting on the other side of the phone. Probably lying in bed, body relaxed and easy, staring at the ceiling and smiling at his voice.
.
.
Barriers slam shut full-force when Samuel says he is joining Workers.
It's not a betrayal, it's not a personal affront, yet Jake can't help but take it that way.
He wants to demand how could you. To rehash old wounds and ask how could you leave Big Deal, how could you leave me, why did you shut me out, why did you hate me, do you still hate me?
No words come. Just quiet fury as an ache settles into his chest.
The barriers try to shut but it can’t close fully. Neither will let them. A sliver of light still peeks through.
.
.
The calls don't stop.
It's an addiction neither wants to nor can break off. Drawn together and inexplicably linked.
Jake doesn't use the excuse of alcohol anymore.
Samuel didn't have an excuse in the first place
It's a way of letting each other know that they're thinking about them. Even with everything they have to tiptoe around, the divergence of their lives, the issues and trauma, they're still there.
And each time one of them picks up, they're letting the other know that they're thinking about them too.
.
.
Samuel hears about Jake's arrest before it happens.
It's Jerry Kwon that texts him, and Samuel wonders how much he knows, if Jake has said anything.
Jerry keeps it to the point, details provided on a need to know basis. No questions, no forced niceties.
Samuel thinks the gambling ring could have worked but it's bizarre, really. A plan that seems like it was devised by himself, when in actual fact it comes from someone that prides themselves on better morals and principles.
He thinks of Jake's desperation to have arrived at that. Rather than feeling satisfaction and relishing in his defeat, like he would have for anyone else that he considers a rival, Samuel feels disappointment and empathy. And the feeling of cold dread and worry that he won't hear from Jake for months.
He doesn't know what to do with that.
Nevertheless, he marks his calendar with the day of Jake's release.
.
.
Jake has his first taste of freedom and calls him.
It's the first number he dials, the first person he thinks of, has thought of for months.
For years.
.
.
Jake says he wants to kill Gun Park and Samuel thinks it's the best thing he's ever heard.
Samuel’s brain whirs and ideas form.
The first time they lock eyes again, it's under circumstances neither of them wants.
Samuel, as a dog of the Workers, and Jake, desperately searching for Sinu and out for blood.
On Big Deal Street, an uneasy alliance is offered between both crews.
Jake Kim accepts. His mind tells him it's the right thing to do - compromise on his morals once again so that Big Deal survives another day and to refocus on their end goal. His heart tells him that he only accepted because Samuel is there.
Relief and elation floods his body. For the first time in years, they will be on the same side again.
Samuel anticipated bitterness and anger at seeing the son of Gapryong Kim. Despite all the nights and hours on the phone, had thought seeing him in the flesh was bound to bring out feelings of inadequacy and inferiority.
Yet today, his eyes rake over his strong, powerful figure and it arouses other stirrings.
Their time is cut short. Together they barely have time to reminisce under the ever watchful eyes of Eugene but Jake doesn’t miss the way Samuel looks at him and Samuel doesn’t miss the way it’s returned.
.
.
The calls continue.
Samuel gives information about their former No.1.
.
.
In the cell, surrounded by names etched on stone and reflecting the deterioration of Sinu Han, they both break in different ways.
Samuel wants to be King and Jake wants to kill him. To pummel his fists into his tear-stained face and scream. Tear him to pieces, searching for any traces of humanity left. How could he do this to Sinu, how could he do this to Big Deal, how could he do this to him. All those nights filled with hushed words for one another or falling asleep to quiet, steady breaths, and he had been hiding this.
Surrounded by names etched on stone and the tallying of days, Jake pins Samuel against the wall and crashes their lips together.
Unleashes all his fury and frustration and hate and passion in the cold, dank room. Haunted by memories and what-ifs, pushed over the edge and following his rage all the way down.
It’s ugly, it’s savage. There’s blood and bruises and sweats and groans.
Samuel meets him beat for beat.
.
.
The calls stop.
The partnership splinters.
Jake’s fingers still ghost over his name but he can’t bring himself to call him.
Samuel busies himself with Workers until he pushes all thoughts of Jake Kim from his mind. It doesn’t work.
He wonders why he doesn’t call. He wonders why he can’t make the first move.
.
.
In the middle of the fight, tensions running high, both sides ready to kill, Samuel receives a message:
‘All we’re missing is you lol.’
Hears “Yo Samuel, we still have your old coat.”
Sees the forced grin and the anguish in his eyes.
A last ditch attempt to bring him back to Big Deal. Jake Kim laying out his cards for all to witness, heart on his sleeve.
Everything becomes a mess, even more so, after that.
.
.
Jake’s own subconscious makes a fool out of him, mocking and sneering, inner voice reminiscent of Samuel’s dry and sardonic tone.
He’s all he can think about. Can’t even revel fully in the joy of Sinu being back, partake wholeheartedly in the celebrations.
Because Sinu’s return only highlights, emphasises, what is missing.
.
.
Samuel traces his lips, wishes his fingers were the heat of someone else.
Presses his thumb to the pulse in his neck. Recalls purple mottled skin there, broken and bleeding. How he had relished the pain thrumming for days after as he thinks of who had bitten him.
.
.
Jake makes the first move. Jake always makes the first move.
Arranges a meeting under the pretence of preparing for the war against Workers. Of revealing his trump card and his agreement with Charles Choi. Of bringing Samuel back to Big Deal… But really, it’s to bring Samuel home and to his side.
Another last ditch attempt.
(In truth, there will never be a last anything where Samuel is concerned.)
.
.
Samuel barely hears the conversation.
All he remembers is the request to meet at the pier once again and agreeing to it before he can even consider what it truly means and the consequences.
Samuel doesn't think anything of the way he prepares, the extra care in how he dresses, how he pauses to consider his cologne.
He doesn't dwell on the fact that he arrives there hours earlier than planned, and how Jake is already waiting.
.
.
The plan is half baked at best and of course it’s on Samuel to pick through the holes and relay the groundworks. Seal any chances of mistakes and create an unshakeable foundation.
They’re always worked better together, the two of them. Jake can’t help but smile as Samuel tells him the new plan. It’s better than anything he could have thought of.
He offers again for Samuel to rejoin Big Deal. For the war he says. For me, for us he means.
Samuel hesitates. The offer is tempting. More tempting that it should have any right to be.
For the first time since disbanding Gangseo, his future is hazy and distorted, vision compromised. What would it mean if he stays at Workers? What would it mean if he fights by Jake’s side?
He tries to think what the end game looks like. Attempts to figure five moves ahead, ten, twenty.
(Has tried to visualise making the right moves before even Gangseo Union. Learned to strategise with his mother and her hair-trigger temper. Before he had any strength, before he knew he could be punishing also.)
The decision is taken out of his hand when Jake grabs his. Confesses something they both know, but have never dared to utter out loud.
“I want you,” Jake offers simply, tracing over the tattoos on Samuel’s knuckles. “It’s always been you.”
It’s everything and nothing.
There must be a catch.
Samuel wants to throw up. He wants to call him crazy, a fool, tell him that he has truly lost the plot. He wants to jump and shout and come apart at the seams. He wants time to stop and live in this moment forever. He wants to rewind back the years so he can never meet Jake. He wants to recoil and flinch and snatch his hand away - but the softness, the tenderness of Jake’s touch he knows in his bones will one day kill him.
Will drag him and his dwindling sanity down. His inferiority, his superiority, all his complexities will be taken apart by Jake Kim.
But maybe. Perhaps. They can rebuild each other. They’ve always worked better together, the two of them.
Samuel still can’t see the future clearly. However, it’s one he thinks he can settle for. With Jake Kim. Drawn together and inexplicably linked. Better side by side than apart.
They stand there for hours. Until the moon brightens the sky and the stars glitter and Jake’s fingers intertwine with his. Both staring out at the water, the ebb and flow of the tide.
Samuel wants his confession to be drowned out by the waves, but. The words have choked him for the last couple hours, maybe even for years. He doesn’t want them to choke him forever.
Spoken into the air and carried away by the wind, “It’s always been you too.”
Shit. The telltale sign that there's someone close by, and not just anyone.
"What is it-"
"Wait." Jake's hand clamps over your mouth as he casts a shifty glance round the corner.
Your eyes narrow. Seriously, what the hell. One moment he’s kissing you all sloppy and urgent and you’re trying to undo his belt buckle, now this is how he treats you. Um, rude much?
Not to mention the location. Ew. Completely unlike him and real romantic. Ugh, if he wasn't so cute and if you weren't so horny-
.
.
"Huh? What's this?" Sinu peers down the alley and locks eyes with you.
Time freezes as he stops mid stride to take in your form, then his gaze flickers over to Jake. Are you both... really?!
"Are you kidding, Y/N! Jake!"
"What, we're just talking! We aren't allowed to talk?" You try for indignant outrage at the unfair and totally inaccurate accusation-
"Jake's fly is down."
You look over. His fly is indeed down.
Well, shit. Caught red-handed.
Jake whirls round. You look to the heavens, shaking your head as you hear his fiddling and the zipper being yanked up.
"You both know better," Sinu sighs, "And the dumpster is right there."
You look over. The dumpster is indeed right there also.
Sinu’s not wrong, but when the urge grips you both then all logic and rationale goes flying out the window… even when it’s pretty certain this particular session would have led to salmonella.
Ah, whatever. There’s no going back now.
Giving him a salute, "It's called Passion, Sir!"
Jake joins in, grin pulling at his lips as he also salutes, "Yes, Sir!"
This is the angle you’re both going for?! Twisting his own goddamn words?!
Sinu's jaw drops open, toothpick falling to the ground. You kids are going to be the death of him.
Hi, you totally won't be able to suss out who this is.
What's your thoughts on Ryuhei? What's a lil snapshot of him on a... Sunday morning?
hi my completely mysterious beloved anon lol🥰
ah ryuhei that pathetic little meow meow. to be honest with you, truly felt nothing for him and his red flag enabler ass. but maybe you have piqued my interest in him a tiny bit lol here's a very unserious cracky thing for you🫶
summary: having ryuhei as your roommate is simply cursed.
--
"Ryuhei Kuroda, if you don't silence your phone right fucking now, so help me God-"
Another loud ass text notification ding from the bunk bed below you interrupts your sentence.
You groan and stuff your face into your pillow, trying your very best not to scream and go on a murderous rampage.
Sunday morning 7:32am. All you wanted to do was sleep in on your day off. But your pest of a roommate had other plans.
"Ryuhei, put your phone on silent! Please," you beg.
The blonde pouts. "I can't. What if Mitsuki texts me back?"
“And what if I win the fucking lottery tonight,” you deadpan.
The loud ass sounds of his phone keyboard tapping away fill the room as he ignores you.
“That’s it.”
You leap down from the top bunk. You snatch Ryuhei’s phone out of his hands and march over to to the window before hurling the phone out into the street.
The phone flies and lands in the tree across the street from your 3rd story room. It slowly slips down a tree branch. It then lands on the concrete of the sidewalk with a crack and thud.
“Hey!” The angry blonde springs up.
You glare back at him but before the string of angry words leaves Ryuhei’s mouth, he stops in his tracks, finally taking you in.
Your perfectly messy bed head hair. Your strong toned arms that were strong enough to chuck his phone to that distance.
The temper and glare flaring behind your bleary eyes that is so similar to Mitsuki’s and yet so different at the same time - less icy and more fiery.
You furrow your brows at your roommate, wondering why he’s just standing there looking at you so weird.
Then you realize it’s the same look that’s written all over his face when he’s waiting by his phone, when he’s looking at her.
hi anon! yes here is the johan crumb u ordered, enjoy🤵♀️
[1:46am] Johan walks in and quietly closes the front door as to not wake you. He turns to his right and sees you fast asleep on the couch with your textbook still in your lap. After setting it aside, he places one arm under your shoulder and the other under your knees to lift you up and carry you back to your room. You stir slightly in your sleep and nuzzle the side of your face into his chest, sleep-mumbling something about differential equations. Johan barely stifles a smile. He gently places you onto your bed. He pulls your covers up to your shoulders and presses his lips to your forehead, leaving you a belated good night kiss.
Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻♀️
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2
There's something wrong with people your age these days.
Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?
Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.
Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.
And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.
You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.
There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.
.
.
Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.
And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?
The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.
Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.
.
.
You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.
Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.
He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.
He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.
You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.
The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.
"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."
.
.
"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.
Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!
He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.
You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!
And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.
.
.
Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.
The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.
Shaved. Off.
You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.
They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.
They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.
.
.
"What do you think, sweetheart?"
A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.
What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.
That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.
His partner smirks at your response.
And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.
The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.
"No can do. No ID, no sale."
He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.
My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.
You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.
Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.
.
.
You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.
This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.
He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.
You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.
He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.
Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.
"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.
'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.
.
.
"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.
He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.
"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.
You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.
The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.
"Come on bro, just pick one!"
"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."
You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.
.
.
"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.
You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.
"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.
"Ok?"
"I need it for my training."
"Sure."
You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.
To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.
"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.
.
.
A mute blonde gestures at you
You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.
Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.
(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)
You tell him no and he sprints out.
You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.
Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.
.
.
You think you might be having a stroke.
Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.
It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.
As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.
It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.
.
.
You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.
Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.
"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"
"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.
The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."
"Ohhh~ you miss him!"
"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.
'Friend', sure.
For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.
summary: you go a little feral at the sight of your boyfriend, to his pleasant surprise.
a/n: for ramen!!🥹 thank u for giving me the inspiration to write this🫶
--
Jake comes in through the front door, calling out to you. "I'm home!"
"Oh h-"
You look up from your screen and before you can even get a word out, you find yourself mouth agape, frozen in a trance at the sight before you.
Your boyfriend standing there in an all-black outfit, his black gloves still on as he takes off his hood, revealing a perfect mess of bedhead-looking hair. He begins to take his gloves off with his mouth, when he notices the expression on your face. "What's wrong?" He asks you, one glove still in his mouth.
"Oh. My. God." You can feel yourself actually losing your mind at the sight of your boyfriend looking this sexy without even trying. "Wait, wait, do that again."
Taken aback by this sudden attention from you to him doing such an ordinary part of his routine, Jake lets out a laugh. "Do what again?"
"The sexy thing you just did where you took your gloves off with your mouth, duh." Hello? Wasn't it obvious?
Although still fairly confused, your boyfriend complies anyway. His mouth grips the edge of his other glove, rolling it off his hand while he gazes at you with bedroom eyes.
Your head is swimming with unholy thoughts and you can't help but let out a moan at what you're seeing.
His cheeks flush pink at your reaction. He was not expecting to come home to this, although an unwelcome surprise it is not.
Jake wears a bashful grin on his face as he reaches over to properly greet you with a kiss on your cheek. "Well I'm happy to see you, too."
You smile and run your fingers through his soft, messy dark hair. "Should we maybe... do something about how worked up you've got me?"
He grins back at you and nods, gaze completely fixed on you now. "If you want to, then yeah, let's play properly."
