and i won't shut up about jimin being my crush of the month BECAUSE STFU HIS LONG BLONDE HAIR IS SO HOT RAGHHH. he's been on my fyp for a consecutive week and i think i'm going to die 🫠💗
hai :3 how have u been lately we haven't talked at all in a while :/
OMG HIII!! i feel so bad i've been like MIA this whole semester because my classes are beating my ass lols. i hope that you're doing well! i did see that you're on hiatus but i hope we get to talk soon!! 💗
—bring this account back from the dead because finals are almost over and i'm still upset that it's been ALMOST A MONTH since they kicked heeseung out :/ and the concept of them announcing a concert tour??? WHO IS GONNA HIT THOSE HIGH NOTES IN MOONSTRUCK?? WHO?
anyways, fics in the works as my way of coping again lols
࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing: simp-customer!ni-ki x tattoo-artist!fem-reader
࣪ ִֶָ☾. synopsis: he showed up for his first tattoo on a friend’s recommendation, and somehow, he just kept coming back. each visit a little more daring, a little more charming—he keeps returning, each time bolder than the last… until one day, he walks in with a bold new idea… and you just can’t bring yourself to say no.
for more.. 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ash's notes: i'm back againnn... this one is like.. mmm.. did y'all see ni-ki's potential womb tattoo?? cuz that's what this is 100000% based on. i hope its real lmao
The low hum of the tattoo machine had faded hours ago, replaced by the softer sound of a playlist you only played after hours—something slower, warmer, meant for the quiet part of the night when the shop smelled faintly of ink and citrus cleaner, and the track lights threw soft golden halos across the walls. The air felt calmer now, shadows stretching long over the floorboards, when the front door chimed open.
Ni-ki leaned against the frame like he belonged there.
He wasn’t supposed to yet. His appointment wasn’t for another ten minutes, but his habit of showing up early had become something you didn’t mind—especially when he walked in with that mix of calm confidence and barely-there nerves, like he’d practiced looking casual in the mirror.
“Brought you something,” he said, holding up a cup carrier with two iced drinks. His rings caught the light when he set them down on the counter—subtle, cool, and annoyingly well chosen, like everything he wore.
“You’re trying to bribe me,” you said, already reaching for the drink you knew would be yours—he’d gotten your order right after the first appointment, and somehow never forgot. “What, nervous about what we’re doing today?”
“Nervous?” He tilted his head, feigning offense. “I’m basically a veteran at this point. Third time’s the charm.”
You leaned against the counter, straw between your fingers, watching as he traced the edge of a framed flash design on the wall like he wasn’t looking at you—when, of course, he was. “Veteran, huh? Pretty bold for someone who flinched the whole first session.”
“I didn’t flinch.”
“You squirmed.”
His lips twitched like he was fighting a laugh, but he stayed in character, lifting his drink with a shrug. “Guess you’ll have to remind me.”
“Guess I will,” you echoed, smiling despite yourself.
The air between you settled into that familiar, teasing tension—one that had been building since his second visit, when the nervous kid from the first session had walked back in a little bolder, a little more sure, still fidgeting under your touch but now cracking jokes to cover it. You weren’t sure when you’d started looking forward to his appointments more than anyone else’s—but you did.
“So,” you asked, motioning for him to follow you toward your station, “what are we doing today? Another piece for your ribs? Or are we finally braving the arms?”
“Neither.” He leaned casually against the doorframe, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Something… different.”
Your brow arched, but you played along, dragging the stool out with your foot. “Different how?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Just reached into his pocket and, with deliberate calm, pulled out a tube of red lipstick—setting it on the table between you like it belonged there.
For a moment, you laughed. Because what else could you do? “You’re joking.”
His smirk stayed, but there was something in his gaze—steady, serious—that made your laugh falter. “Am I?”
Your eyes lingered on the lipstick, the soft red glint catching the light. Something about the way he set it down—like it was ordinary, like he’d done this a hundred times—made you pause.
“You want a… lipstick bottle tattooed?” you asked, cocking your head. The words came out with a mixture of confusion and teasing incredulity.
Ni-ki’s smirk faltered just a fraction, the carefully practiced calm in his posture betraying the tiny twitch in his fingers. “Not exactly,” he said slowly. “I—uh, I want you to… make your own stencil.”
Your brow furrowed, heart picking up a beat you didn’t expect. “My own stencil?” You stared at him, letting your mind race. He was calm now, smug even, but you could almost see the memories flicker behind his eyes—the first time he’d sat in your chair, gripping the armrest like it was a lifeline.
That first session had been a mess of nerves and charm. He had come in with nothing but a vague idea for a piece on his ribcage, and every time you moved the needle close, he’d flinch, bite his lip, or shift in the chair, trying to look unbothered. You had teased him relentlessly, making comments about how he “acted calm but was basically a worm wriggling under my hands,” and he had only rolled his eyes while pretending to maintain control.
But you’d noticed the little details—the way he studied your movements like a puzzle, the subtle warmth in his gaze whenever your hands brushed his skin, the way he chuckled quietly when you made a particularly sharp joke. Even then, something had tugged at the corners of your chest, a light, fluttering curiosity that had grown stronger with every return visit.
And now, here he was again, bolder somehow in his confidence but still that same mix of teasing bravado and quiet vulnerability that made it impossible not to pay attention. You watched him carefully as he leaned against the edge of the chair, arms crossed, smirk unwavering but eyes flicking down nervously to the lipstick between you.
“You… you want me to make a stencil using the lipstick?” you asked, voice tight with disbelief and a thread of curiosity.
He blinked, as if surprised you didn’t understand right away. “Yeah… like, you’d press it to your lips, make the stencil, and then we use it for the tattoo.”
You frowned, tilting your head. “Wait… wait, so you want me to… do what, exactly?”
“I want you to make the shape of your lips,” he said, leaning just a little closer, smirk teasing but calm, though his fingers tapped lightly against the counter betraying a hint of nerves. “For the stencil. For me.”
Your fingers twitched at the counter. Part of you wanted to laugh, part of you wanted to ask if he was serious—and part of you already knew the answer from the way he was looking at you. This wasn’t a joke. Not this time. There was a thread of something daring, something soft, that ran through his calm exterior, and it was impossible to ignore.
“You’re insane,” you said, half-laughing, half-trying to hide the quickening in your chest.
“Maybe,” he replied evenly, shrugging as though shrugging off nerves could somehow make them disappear. “Or maybe… I just trust you.”
You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were to each other in the small space of the shop. The music played low, the shadows from the warm lamps curling around the corners of the room, the faint smell of your studio wrapping you both in the intimacy of the familiar. Your heartbeat thrummed in time with the quiet, and the memory of his first flinches, his soft chuckles, his sly jokes all mingled with the present, building a tension you weren’t sure either of you could contain.
And somehow, you knew that once you took that lipstick in hand, once your lips brushed against his skin to create the stencil, the dynamic would change. There would be no pretending, no hiding the way he reacted—or the way you were already leaning just a little closer than strictly necessary.
He tilted his head, smirk softening into something more earnest. “So… are you going to do it, or are you scared?”
You hesitated, a shiver running down your spine. You could say no. You could step back. But the teasing glint in his eyes, the familiar warmth of his presence, and the faint memory of how nervous he’d been the first time, made the refusal impossible.
You stared at the tube of red lipstick between you, disbelief warring with an inexplicable thrill. “You’re seriously asking me to… do this?” you asked, voice a little breathless.
Ni-ki’s smirk softened, his confidence faltering just enough to let a hint of nerves peek through. “Please,” he said, voice low but steady, eyes locking with yours. “It’ll be… awesome. Trust me.”
You hesitated, fingernails brushing the counter, mind racing. He was calm, playful—but that tiny twitch in his jaw, the way he tapped the tabletop with a finger, betrayed him. He wanted this as much as he wanted to see your reaction, and suddenly you felt like you just had to do it.
“Okay…” you breathed, almost reluctantly, then caught yourself. “Okay, fine.”
A grin spread across his face, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Good. Just… I want it here,” he said, lifting the hem of his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal the faint curve of his hip. “And…” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “Just a bit below the waistband. Only slightly, I promise.”
You froze, blinked, and glanced up at him. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his cheeks flushed the slightest pink under the warm lamp light. The smirk was back, but softer now, teasing with an undercurrent of nerves. “Are you serious?” you whispered.
“Yes,” he said, almost breathless. “Please… it’ll be perfect.”
You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as you picked up the tube. His nervousness was infectious, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the two of you, the golden light, the faint scent of ink, and the quick rhythm of his pulse beneath your fingers.
He pulled his shirt off fully, muscles tensing slightly as he lowered his waistband just enough for you to reach the spot he wanted. Every subtle movement of his body, the slight hitch in his breath, made you hyper-aware of his nervous energy. He was trying so hard to look in control, but the flush creeping up his neck and the faint tremor in his hands betrayed him completely.
“Just… relax,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his side as you lined up the lipstick. “We’ll make it work.”
He swallowed, holding his breath as you pressed the lipstick gently against his skin, lips meeting flesh. The room seemed to shrink around you, every sound—the faint hum of the lights, the soft playlist, the scrape of your hand against the counter—magnified.
His eyes fluttered shut, lips parting slightly, a shiver running through him. He tried to stay calm, but each press of your lips against him made it harder to breathe, harder to maintain the composed mask he usually wore. His fingers curled slightly, gripping the edge of the table, jaw tight, but a small, almost imperceptible groan escaped him.
“Almost got it,” you whispered, adjusting, leaning closer as your lips brushed again. The warmth of his skin under your touch, the quiet of the shop, the way he couldn’t hold back that tension—it all made your pulse spike.
He swallowed hard, eyes fluttering open to meet yours, cheeks burning, breath coming in short little bursts. “You… you’re making it… perfect,” he muttered, voice tight with restrained control.
You bit your lip, smirking despite yourself. “That’s the idea,” you teased, pressing once more, lips lingering to trace the curve you needed for the stencil. He shivered again, trying to hold back, hands fidgeting, the heat in his neck and chest spreading.
Several attempts later, lipstick smudged slightly here and there, your lips brushing his skin more than once, your fingers grazing where you needed them to hold his waistband, the tension between you thick enough to taste. Each time you pulled back, he exhaled sharply, catching his breath, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping before he tried to mask it.
“You’re… killing me,” he admitted in a whisper, the blush on his cheeks deepening, jaw tight, eyes still locked on yours. “I thought I could… keep it together.”
“You’re doing great,” you murmured, voice low, almost teasing. “Now stay still. We’re almost there.”
The final press was deliberate, careful, and somehow intimate in a way neither of you expected. You straightened up, taking a step back to examine the lipstick stencil you’d created. He ran a trembling hand along his hip, taking a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude, awe, and something unspoken lingering in the warm lamplight.
“You’re… incredible,” he said softly, voice low and sincere, his usual smirk gone. “I… didn’t think—” He stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks still flushed.
You smiled, heart hammering, leaning slightly closer under the glow of the lamps. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to me making stencils like that.”
He laughed breathlessly, shaking his head, still holding his breath in little bursts, unable to fully regain the calm he had the first time he sat in your chair today. “No promises,” he murmured.
The air between you hummed with tension, warmth, and a playful promise. The stencil was done, but the moment wasn’t. Your hands lingered near his side as you both caught your breath, and in the quiet intimacy of the shop, with shadows curling around you and the faint scent of ink still in the air, it was impossible to deny the pull between you.
And for the first time, the two of you sat together in a charged silence that felt endless, knowing that nothing would be quite the same after this—knowing you both wanted more, even if neither of you spoke it out loud.
—
The hum of the tattoo machine had returned, a softer, gentler buzz this time, as you carefully cleaned up the edges of his freshly inked skin. The red mark glistened slightly, a perfect replica of your lips, and Ni-ki watched every motion with rapt attention, leaning in just enough to catch your hands in the soft light.
“You’re… meticulous,” he murmured, voice low, almost shy. His usual smirk softened into something more vulnerable. The flush hadn’t left his cheeks, and every so often, his fingers twitched at the edge of the counter as though he wanted to reach for you but couldn’t find the courage.
“Careful,” you said, tilting your head as you dabbed gently, “or you’ll smudge it.”
His breath hitched slightly, a quiet sound, and you caught him swallowing hard. “I… I don’t mind,” he whispered, tone husky with an unsteady edge. “Actually… it kind of feels… nice.”
You paused, realizing the heat in his words, the way he watched you with an intensity that had nothing to do with the tattoo and everything to do with the closeness, the intimacy of your hands brushing against his skin. Your fingers lingered for a fraction longer than necessary, and his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
“Almost done,” you murmured, voice soft, almost teasing, though your own pulse had started to thrum in time with his. You carefully applied the aftercare ointment, tracing gentle lines over the fresh red ink. Every touch made him tense, and you caught him biting his lip, trying to maintain control, pink rising higher along his jaw.
“You know,” he said quietly, voice just above a whisper, “I didn’t think I could… feel this… when you were… this close.” His words were hesitant, fumbling, yet sincere. “I thought I’d be… calm, professional even. But…” He trailed off, eyes fluttering toward yours, cheeks still flushed, breath catching every so often.
“You’re fine,” you said softly, leaning slightly closer to smooth out a line of ointment. “Relax. Just… let me do this.”
He swallowed, exhaling shakily, and you noticed the subtle shift—his body leaning just a little toward yours, the warmth of him pressing against your hands. He tried to smirk, to hide the obvious shiver running through him, but it faltered almost immediately as your thumb brushed along the edge of the adhesive barrier.
“Perfect,” he breathed, voice low and reverent, eyes locked on you. “Honestly… I—” He stopped, shaking his head lightly, as though trying to regain composure. But the heat in his gaze, the flush on his cheeks, the small tremor in his hands said everything he couldn’t put into words.
You straightened, taking a step back to admire the finished work, but kept your hands lightly resting near his hip, almost like an anchor. “All done,” you said, voice soft, letting your eyes linger on him. “Looks… amazing.”
His gaze didn’t leave yours. “It really does,” he whispered, leaning in slightly, as if drawn to you by some magnetic force he couldn’t resist. “I… didn’t think I’d… like this… this much.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You mean… the tattoo?”
He shook his head, cheeks still warm, eyes soft yet intense. “No. You.”
The shop felt smaller now, warmer somehow, wrapped in the soft glow of the lights and the faint scent of ink. Silence fell, but it wasn’t empty—it was charged, electric, the kind of quiet that hummed with unspoken understanding.
You noticed his hands twitching at his sides, the subtle bite of his lower lip, the way his pulse seemed almost audible at his wrist. You leaned slightly closer, enough to let him see your smirk, your own heartbeat hammering in rhythm with his.
Neither of you moved for a moment longer, letting the tension linger, playful and intense, warm and heavy. You knew the moment could stretch forever, both of you caught in the pull of unspoken desire, trust, and familiarity.
And then, as he finally shifted, letting his gaze linger on you one last time before stepping back, the two of you shared a look that said it all: this wasn’t over. The lipstick stencil was gone, the session finished, but the story—your story—was only just beginning.
In the quiet, cozy shop, with shadows dancing gently on the walls and music wrapping around you both, you let yourself smile, feeling the pulse of something new, something thrilling. And as he slowly leans back in, lifting his hand to brush your jaw, you knew that what came next would be worth every flutter of nerves, every stolen glance, every lingering touch.
Thanks for reading! Reblogs + notes always mean a lot 💌 other works
tl: @yazmike
(read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )
( 𝙄 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 ) ── and even if he walks out that door, even if you tell him to leave; you're patiently waiting for him to return because no matter what . . . he keeps coming back
(𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄) boxer! park jay x fem! reader, mentions of violence & blood, cursing, on & off relationship, possessiveness, sexual/suggestive comments, teasing / w.c 1.40k
𝐤𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! jay has been bias wrecking me SO BAD recently like it's not even funny at this point so that's why you're getting a steamy fic of him lol
the window panes from the balcony of your apartment shimmered as they reflected the city lights that were twinkling like stars outside. they shimmered compared to the dim candles that flickered in your living room and the television reflecting hues of blues, yellows & reds. emptiness, silence, a void of stillness wafted your place. while you assured yourself that the space was what you longed for —you couldn't bare to admit that your home felt hollow.
his match was supposed to be on the news tonight. broadcasted for the whole world to see. curled up into your couch, a warm blanket draped around your shoulders with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand —one twitch, grab the remote, it was all it took for you to change the channel and see him. only you turned off the tv instead.
it was better this way. at least, that's what all of the rational thoughts in your brain seemed to say as your eyes continued to linger at the remote beside you, resting on the couch in the void of darkness. yet, you couldn’t shake off the itch of worrying about him. it was instinct at this point, even if he wasn’t around anymore.
the memories flashed vividly in your head —you sitting on the very same couch in the middle of the night, wondering when he was going to come back, was he alive, is he okay? having to hear his heavy breaths when he would open the door, him crumbling down on your lap. his face bloody and bruised as he would apologize to you that he didn’t win another match. how many times did you console him? how many times did you give him money to register in for another fight only for him to lose again? it was a constant cycle, over and over, and over again.
some cycles break. and yes, there were moments when you put your foot down and told him no more. but you were always running back to him, always checking up on him after every match even when you said you wouldn’t. and like a fool, you let it happen more than once —until you finally said no. if jay park wanted to come back into your life, he had to win. there had to be a damn medal around his fucking neck for him to come back into your life.
it seemed like the right move. he hadn’t won a single match, he always came short from coming out on top. it was the simplest way for you to block him out of your life for good. but there was no denial that he was still haunting you. even still, your mind wandered to him on nights such as these. your calendar marked with his matches in red pen. what had been your triumph, led to him consuming your mind like a parasite and you wanted it to end.
with nothing but the city lights twinkling out of your window, your bare feet dragged across the soft fabric of your rug before feeling the cold hardwood floors as you trudged over to your bedroom, the silk sheets welcoming you with open arms as you made your way to bed.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
a loud SLAM interrupted you from your sleep. groggy, rubbing your eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden noise that shook you out of bed; your feet guided you into the dark hallways, trying to see what was ahead of you. the light to the kitchen was turned on, and jay fucking park was standing by your refrigerator in a tight blank sleeveless top, chucking down a carton of milk.
you had to blink twice to make sure that you weren't imagining things. you rubbed your eyes again, squinting to see if it wasn't a trick of the light. nope. there he was, in your kitchen. this wasn't a dream, and you were watching in real time as milk trickled down his chin and fall down to his chest.
"jay? what are you doing here?" you asked as you took a step closer toward him while still maintaining some distance. he didn't answer, just smirked at you before continuing to chug down the carton of milk. your eyes narrowed. he had woken you up, with no answer, knowing that he wasn't welcome in your home, and out of all things —he was raiding your fucking kitchen.
"you're not supposed to be here," you scowled as you decided to ignore the distance that you were so intentional about. you made your way towards him, snatching the carton of milk out of his hands and throwing it back in the fridge. your blood boiled as he did nothing to retaliate, and when you turned to look up at him; a smile was the only thing etched on his lips.
"that's no way to welcome me home, sweetheart," he cooed as one of his arms snaked around your waist, slowly pulling you closer toward him. your cheeks flushed red, was out of anger? out of embarrassment? it was hard to tell when the person that had been floating in and out of your life was in your home again.
his other hand fidgeted down to the pocket of his grey sweatpants and that's when your eyes widened. holding up in the air, for your eyes to see, was a medal. not bronze, not silver, but gold. fucking gold. he grinned from ear to ear as he saw your shocked expression, how your eyes were as big as saucers looking at that medal like it was from outer space.
"holy shit," you gasped as he brought the medal down to your hands, letting you hold it in your hands. your fingers traced the medal, flipping it over in your hands to feel the engravings, all while he spun you around, your back pressed to his chest as his hands continued to roam your waist, his hands brushed your hair away from your neck before his lips pressed down on your skin while you were entranced by the golden medal.
"you like it, huh?" he breathed against your neck as he pressed one more kiss against your neck before turning you around so you could face him. his hands took the medal away from you, throwing it around his neck as his eyes continued to lock with yours.
and there it was, that tiny smile of his that tugged at the corner of his lips, how his hands continued to rub circles on your hips as you two continued to gaze at one another. and you slowly found yourself wanting to sink into his grip the more he looked at you.
"i can't believe you actually won," it wasn't a lie, it was an honest confession. the kitchen lights reflected the purple and blue bruises on his arms and the bloodied cuts on his face. your hands couldn't help but have a mind of their own as you cupped his face, examining him. because even if you kicked him out, even if you had told him not to come back, there was always that part of you that never stopped caring.
"i've missed you," jay mumbled as he placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers tracing against yours before he brought your hand down so that his lips could brush softly against the palm of your hand. all in all while he continued to look at you with those eyes. the ones that made you want to press your thighs together. the ones that blurred the lines of love and lust.
"i've missed you so much, my pretty girl," he muttered against your hand. "and now i get to have you all to myself again,"
"what are you talking about?"
he let out a low chuckle before he brought down his thumb to brush against your lower lip. "have you forgotten our deal already?" it was the way jay said it that was so teasing, like there was a secret that only he knew and that were left out of.
"you said i wasn't allowed to come back unless i got a medal. and i said that if i came back to you with a gold medal. . ."
—he paused, leaning into your ear so that his lips softly touched you. ". . . i would get to fuck you as my reward,"
likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are appreciated!
( 𝙄 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 ) ── and even if he walks out that door, even if you tell him to leave; you're patiently waiting for him to return because no matter what . . . he keeps coming back
(𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄) boxer! park jay x fem! reader, mentions of violence & blood, cursing, on & off relationship, possessiveness, sexual/suggestive comments, teasing / w.c 1.40k
𝐤𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! jay has been bias wrecking me SO BAD recently like it's not even funny at this point so that's why you're getting a steamy fic of him lol
the window panes from the balcony of your apartment shimmered as they reflected the city lights that were twinkling like stars outside. they shimmered compared to the dim candles that flickered in your living room and the television reflecting hues of blues, yellows & reds. emptiness, silence, a void of stillness wafted your place. while you assured yourself that the space was what you longed for —you couldn't bare to admit that your home felt hollow.
his match was supposed to be on the news tonight. broadcasted for the whole world to see. curled up into your couch, a warm blanket draped around your shoulders with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand —one twitch, grab the remote, it was all it took for you to change the channel and see him. only you turned off the tv instead.
it was better this way. at least, that's what all of the rational thoughts in your brain seemed to say as your eyes continued to linger at the remote beside you, resting on the couch in the void of darkness. yet, you couldn’t shake off the itch of worrying about him. it was instinct at this point, even if he wasn’t around anymore.
the memories flashed vividly in your head —you sitting on the very same couch in the middle of the night, wondering when he was going to come back, was he alive, is he okay? having to hear his heavy breaths when he would open the door, him crumbling down on your lap. his face bloody and bruised as he would apologize to you that he didn’t win another match. how many times did you console him? how many times did you give him money to register in for another fight only for him to lose again? it was a constant cycle, over and over, and over again.
some cycles break. and yes, there were moments when you put your foot down and told him no more. but you were always running back to him, always checking up on him after every match even when you said you wouldn’t. and like a fool, you let it happen more than once —until you finally said no. if jay park wanted to come back into your life, he had to win. there had to be a damn medal around his fucking neck for him to come back into your life.
it seemed like the right move. he hadn’t won a single match, he always came short from coming out on top. it was the simplest way for you to block him out of your life for good. but there was no denial that he was still haunting you. even still, your mind wandered to him on nights such as these. your calendar marked with his matches in red pen. what had been your triumph, led to him consuming your mind like a parasite and you wanted it to end.
with nothing but the city lights twinkling out of your window, your bare feet dragged across the soft fabric of your rug before feeling the cold hardwood floors as you trudged over to your bedroom, the silk sheets welcoming you with open arms as you made your way to bed.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
a loud SLAM interrupted you from your sleep. groggy, rubbing your eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden noise that shook you out of bed; your feet guided you into the dark hallways, trying to see what was ahead of you. the light to the kitchen was turned on, and jay fucking park was standing by your refrigerator in a tight blank sleeveless top, chucking down a carton of milk.
you had to blink twice to make sure that you weren't imagining things. you rubbed your eyes again, squinting to see if it wasn't a trick of the light. nope. there he was, in your kitchen. this wasn't a dream, and you were watching in real time as milk trickled down his chin and fall down to his chest.
"jay? what are you doing here?" you asked as you took a step closer toward him while still maintaining some distance. he didn't answer, just smirked at you before continuing to chug down the carton of milk. your eyes narrowed. he had woken you up, with no answer, knowing that he wasn't welcome in your home, and out of all things —he was raiding your fucking kitchen.
"you're not supposed to be here," you scowled as you decided to ignore the distance that you were so intentional about. you made your way towards him, snatching the carton of milk out of his hands and throwing it back in the fridge. your blood boiled as he did nothing to retaliate, and when you turned to look up at him; a smile was the only thing etched on his lips.
"that's no way to welcome me home, sweetheart," he cooed as one of his arms snaked around your waist, slowly pulling you closer toward him. your cheeks flushed red, was out of anger? out of embarrassment? it was hard to tell when the person that had been floating in and out of your life was in your home again.
his other hand fidgeted down to the pocket of his grey sweatpants and that's when your eyes widened. holding up in the air, for your eyes to see, was a medal. not bronze, not silver, but gold. fucking gold. he grinned from ear to ear as he saw your shocked expression, how your eyes were as big as saucers looking at that medal like it was from outer space.
"holy shit," you gasped as he brought the medal down to your hands, letting you hold it in your hands. your fingers traced the medal, flipping it over in your hands to feel the engravings, all while he spun you around, your back pressed to his chest as his hands continued to roam your waist, his hands brushed your hair away from your neck before his lips pressed down on your skin while you were entranced by the golden medal.
"you like it, huh?" he breathed against your neck as he pressed one more kiss against your neck before turning you around so you could face him. his hands took the medal away from you, throwing it around his neck as his eyes continued to lock with yours.
and there it was, that tiny smile of his that tugged at the corner of his lips, how his hands continued to rub circles on your hips as you two continued to gaze at one another. and you slowly found yourself wanting to sink into his grip the more he looked at you.
"i can't believe you actually won," it wasn't a lie, it was an honest confession. the kitchen lights reflected the purple and blue bruises on his arms and the bloodied cuts on his face. your hands couldn't help but have a mind of their own as you cupped his face, examining him. because even if you kicked him out, even if you had told him not to come back, there was always that part of you that never stopped caring.
"i've missed you," jay mumbled as he placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers tracing against yours before he brought your hand down so that his lips could brush softly against the palm of your hand. all in all while he continued to look at you with those eyes. the ones that made you want to press your thighs together. the ones that blurred the lines of love and lust.
"i've missed you so much, my pretty girl," he muttered against your hand. "and now i get to have you all to myself again,"
"what are you talking about?"
he let out a low chuckle before he brought down his thumb to brush against your lower lip. "have you forgotten our deal already?" it was the way jay said it that was so teasing, like there was a secret that only he knew and that were left out of.
"you said i wasn't allowed to come back unless i got a medal. and i said that if i came back to you with a gold medal. . ."
—he paused, leaning into your ear so that his lips softly touched you. ". . . i would get to fuck you as my reward,"
likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are appreciated!
soo p1harmony has currently been a fixation for like the past month since i'm planning on buying one of their albums this week & since i watched their debut movie with my bestie . . .
. . . how do we feel about expanding to p1harmony fits and shiz?? and while i'm at it also stray kids (bc yes i'm a stay) IDK I JUST NEED SOMEONE TO TELL ME THAT IF I EXPAND AND WRITE WITH OTHER GROUPS THAT IT WON'T BE A BAD IDEA LMAO
(as you can tell i'm an indecisive person SO PLS HELP ME)
I hope you see thisI’m not a bot and this is not a spam messageI’m a real person from Gaza trying to survivePlease don’t scroll past me I’m just asking to be heard 🙏
On this day every month, I used to receive my salary, buy groceries, and give a portion to those in need. Now, after 22 months of war, I’m begging strangers to help my sick mother and father — just to afford $25 for a kilo of flour. Please be the reason we eat today. Thank you for your kind heart.🫂💔
( 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉’𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝙀𝙀 𝙉𝙊𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔 ) ── no label to your relationship, no status confining you to one another. just pairs of eyes that linger from across the room like a silent prayer in the night. just because you two aren’t dating . . . it doesn’t mean that no one else can have you
(𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄) enha x fem! reader, established feelings, friends with benefits (?), suggestive comments, cursing, nothing but pure jealously & possessiveness between both of you / w.c 4.9k
𝐤𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! this has been long overdue in my drafts (and i've been kinda inactive) so it’s finally time to bring this fic idea out of the vault. also i apologize if this does have typo errors (i finished writing this at 1am lmao) but i hope you guys enjoy!
LEE HEESEUNG
your lips curled into a grimace as you saw a girl laugh at one of his jokes and place her hand on his chest. it shouldn’t make you mad, it shouldn’t have made your blood boil but it did. and that’s what bothered you. the forbidden kisses, the way that his hands knew every inch and curve of your body —and yet, the two of you wholeheartedly agreed that it was better this way. no feelings, no strings attached. verbally, the two of you acknowledged it would be easier. so why was your heart so set on denying it? it didn’t take long for you to shake the whispering thoughts out of your head. a party was no time to dwindle on your insecurities. this was a decision that the two of you had taken into careful consideration. a relationship would only lead to disaster, it was better this way.
so maybe that’s why you didn’t have an issue grabbing a random stranger by the tie and dragging him out to dance with you. maybe that’s why you found it exhilarating to have his hands caressing your body as you two grinded against one another. the rush was exhilarating, but what made it all worthwhile was seeing heeseung look at you. the way he had his hands wrapped around the girl he was dancing with, the way she was so possessed by him, kissing his neck. perhaps in another lifetime he would be captivated by the girl in front of him —but in this universe, his eyes were only locked on you. watching you, wishing that was him instead of the stranger in front of you.
a smile touched your lips as you allowed yourself to roll your hips back, feeling the hands of the stranger press into your thighs. this was what it was like to be on the other end of jealously. the smile turned into a grin as you saw heeseung’s hand go up to his hair, his fingers clenching into a fist the more he watched you tease him from a distance away. it was all a twisted game you two played. while you both wouldn’t admit the feelings that lingered in the air, it was seeing who would be the first to fall. who would be the one to break, the one to get on their knees, to submit and accept that they were possessive and wanted no one else.
and he broke. heeseung pushed himself away from the girl that was still gouging his neck, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you away from a dance that he knew was meant for him. his grip on your wrist tightened as he led you down a labyrinth of hallways, walking past people while the music blared into your ears. until he found an empty room and pulled you inside. shadows fell over his face as his fingers trailed down to your chin, gently caressing it until he pulled you close, heartbeats slowly fluttering in synch until his lips crashed into yours.
a kiss of desperation, one where you two grabbed for one another like you were the last people on earth. where you the two of you could release the silent yearnings that you both had been holding in for so long. and when your lips finally pulled away from his, he only gave you a millisecond to breathe before his lips touched yours again. you smiled into the kiss, pulling away so you could hear him pant as the two of you locked eyes in a room with the shadows casting as light.
“don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” his words weren’t a beg, they were a command. a desperate command that had you trailing your hands up to the hem of his shirt and kissing his neck. he groaned, his hands running down to grip your hips as you continued to trail kisses down him.
“you’re mine,” heeseung said as his hand moved up to your hair, caressing it before pulling you back so your eyes could meet his. “you’re mine,” he repeated, his lips hovering over yours before you closed the gap between them.
PARK JAY
you admittedly knew that your relationship with jay was one of stolen kisses, lingering touches, and the echoes of pleasure behind closed doors. it was always meant to be that way, private, secretive, and unofficial. in other words, this should have been a relationship that you two could have walked away from with no regrets —only you both lingered longer than expected. it didn't help that you would find a new floral arrangement in your kitchen counter every morning, or an outfit, a piece of jewelry wrapped up waiting to be unopened at the foot of your bed. but it was a silent confirmation that jay knew you. he knew what you wanted, what you liked, and he most certainly knew what you looked good in.
for a man that knew you so well, he had no trouble knowing how to make you squirm in your seat. jay couldn't help but find ecstasy in seeing your eyes narrow at him from across the store as he would help a random girl pick out the perfect necklace. to him, your glares were a way of confirming that he still had you wrapped around his finger. that you weren't going anywhere. that you were his, and his alone.
only two could play at this game. that was something that jay underestimated about you. which made your lips curl into a smile as you immediately went to the clothing racks. your fingers traced over different types of fabric, eyeing the dresses in front of you until you settled on two different pieces. your eyes flickered up to address the crowd of men that lingered in the store. it was a rush of adrenaline finding a somewhat attractive stranger and making your way towards him with your options in hand. from the corner of your eye, you could see jay watching you and that was all that mattered.
it didn't take much, just batting your eyelashes and looking like the most innocent girl in front of the stranger for his cheeks to flush red and help you pick between the two dresses you held in your hands. it didn't take much to get him to pay for the dress either, just cocking your head to the side, looking at his lips and pretending to be completely head over heels desperate. at the end of the day, you secured yourself a new dress and the wrath of jay park as he glared daggers at the bag in your hand as you flashed a wink while walking past him as you left the store.
there was something about wearing a dress that wasn't bought by jay that made your heart skip a beat, wondering what he would say, how he would react to seeing you wear it. after all, the two of you had made plans to him coming over to your apartment prior to your shopping trip. slipping on the silk black dress that clung perfectly to your body felt unreal —an act of betrayal to see him jealous.
the knock on the door sent butterflies into your stomach as you made your way to let jay in. no words, no small talk was said between the two of you as you opened the door. his eyes immediately went to the dress that was on your body. he was taking in every inch of you in that outfit, unable to imagine that someone else, someone that wasn't him, was able to pick a dress for you. and as he looked up at your eyes, the possessiveness filled him up like a drug as he walked inside your apartment, his eyes still on your dress until his hands went up to touch the thin straps on your shoulders.
jay closed the gap between you, his gaze trailing up from the straps on your shoulders to staring at you with a jealously that you had never seen before. his hand went up to cup your face as he pulled his lips to yours. "take this off," he muttered against your lips as he started to pull the straps of your dress down. "no one is allowed to buy you anything but me,"
SIM JAKE
to anyone else, making out in the backseat of someone's car on multiple occasions and having "sleepovers" could be considered things that happen in a relationship. but not with jake. and maybe that was the thrill that lingered in your stomach when you spent time with him. at the same time, it was almost a curse knowing that you two would spend so much time together for it to amount to nothing. what you two had was for fun only. nothing serious to come out of it. the two of you had been previously screwed over by your exes in the past, what you two had was the fun physical stuff that didn't include the emotional shit involved in a relationship.
in the beginning, it didn't pain you as much. it was nice to wake up with someone in bed. getting to play with jake's hair as he trailed kisses down your skin. or the idea of parking in the middle of nowhere and leaving the car foggy and seeing your handprints on the windows the following day. it was meant to be fun and games, no harm done, no feelings attached. until you felt him becoming distant. until, at the club, you had to see another girl place her hands on his hair, as he trailed kisses down her neck that it left your fingernails leaving prints in the palms of your hands.
you shouldn't be jealous. you tried to calm yourself down, but the image played over and over in your head. it wasn't like she had kissed him, she had just placed her hands in her hair. but you had been doing that for so long. you had always done that to jake after every heated moment that the two of you shared. but he had marked her, there was no denial about it. if this is what jealousy felt like, you hated it. because it meant that your feelings weren't just some fucked up illusion, but a reality. in your mind, he was at fault. he was yours and yours alone. which made the pain in your stomach sink deeper. jealous and possessive, two traits you never thought would come back to haunt you again.
it had corrupted your mind and soul. going to bed with him, knowing that the scenario was playing in your head constantly. until a moment of clarity washed over you as you looked at yourself in the mirror after taking a shower. the hickeys that jake would leave on your body were fading. maybe it was time for you to haunt his thoughts instead.
he could talk to any girl he wanted at the club. it didn't matter. not while you found some random man that same night and let him mark you. it felt euphoric knowing that you would return to your bed that night, knowing that the plague of possessiveness had washed away from you. you thought of jake as the stranger pressed his lips against your neck, your chest and your thighs. what would he say? what would he think? it felt completely surreal.
that night, once you both returned from the club, you didn't hesitate to get changed into your pyjamas while jake was in the room. stripping in front of him, the purple and red bruises felt like golden stickers on your body as you casually ignored their existence. but he noticed —and he didn't look away. rather, jake made his way toward you, his hands lingering on your neck, trailing down your skin as he looked at all of the hickeys that were left on your body. "who did this to you?" he asked as his grip tightened on your thighs as he was touching one of the bruises. he felt betrayed, like a slap to the face seeing that someone else's lips had marked your body. while he didn't understand what he had caused for another man to mark your body, the spark of possessiveness was ignited as his hands continued to trace the hickeys left on your body.
it was desperation as he started pressing kisses to your body, as he wrapped his arms around you, his hands clutching to your skin and making you moan into his grasp. his lips trailed to places that weren't marked, weren't covered in foreign hickeys. and that night, he made sure for you to know how jealous he was. how you were completely his. "cover up these hickeys up," he said as he pointed to the ones on your skin, as you were a breathless mess beside him. "the only ones i want to be seeing are mine,"
PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon would rather die on his grave than admit that he was jealous. the last thing he wanted was to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared. what you two had was not meant to be an emotional pursuit. just something to keep you both entertained. he didn't like being vulnerable and you didn't like communicating any problem that stemmed in a relationship. even though you both agreed that you two would treat each other better than any of your exes, what you had was easier. being there for each other while not literally being there for each other. okay, so maybe it was actually more complicated but it was saving you two from emotional attachment —at least, that's what he kept telling himself.
he didn't know how it started. maybe it was when your kisses started feeling short against his lips. or how you didn't have that look in your eye that made his heart flutter every time you pulled back to catch your breath. the distance was driving him insane. and the constant drillings into his head that what you two had wasn't meant to be serious made him feel even worse. because slowly and surely, sunghoon would catch himself staring at you more intently. his fingers delicately tracing your skin as you laid in his bed with his arms wrapped around your bare torso. how he would clench his fist as you would laugh at someone else's joke or casually place a hand on someone else's chest when you both would go out with your friends. sunghoon was slowly spiralling into jealously and he hated that you didn't know what you were doing to him.
it became more frequent over the weeks. he hardly saw you in his apartment or on the other side of his bed anymore. sometimes you didn't answer his calls, other times he would find himself clenching his phone as the words "seen" were underneath the text that he sent to you. what were you doing? what was more important than the stolen moments that you two would spend together?
it came to the point where he started stalking your socials constantly, looking for any type of clue to answer this puzzle that was racking his brain. but the answer came sooner than expected when you were all gathered together for lunch with some friends. his fork had fallen to the ground and that was when he noticed someone else casually resting their hand on your thigh. without even thinking, sunghoon immediately wrapped his arm around the nearest person to him that wasn't you, pulling them close as his eyes locked with yours. and in that brief moment that your gazes were fixed on one another, a tang of possessiveness enveloped into your veins. but you brushed it off with a smile. so it turns out sunghoon could get jealous after all.
the next time he asked for you to come over to his apartment. you didn't give much thought into his request. after all, that's normally how it was between the two of you. but your mind couldn't stop playing the events that happened between the two of you at lunch. sure, the two of you didn't have a label. hell, you two weren't even in a relationship —but everything about the events tasted like charred coal as you ran them over in your head. you weren't jealous, were you? no, it was just a trick. your heart playing games. that's what you said in your head over and over again as you knocked on his door.
only seeing sunghoon in a black compression shirt almost made you fall to your knees. he didn't say anything to you as he let you into his apartment. silence lingered in the room as you two just stood there looking at each other. that was of course, until sunghoon finally broke the space between you two, his hands going to the nape of your neck, his fingers just tracing your skin as he continued to look down at you. was he asking you to make the first move? acting on your instincts, you leaned up to kiss him, only for your lips to touch his hand instead.
"i don't want to see anyone else's hands on you. do you understand?" sunghoon said as he tried to read your facial expressions. he moved his hand away from your lips, running it down so that it was resting on your hip. "i'm the only one who gets to touch you,"
KIM SUNOO
his cologne would always linger on your clothes every time you would leave his apartment. that's how sunoo knew that you were his. the same way you knew that sunoo was yours was based on the type of candles he had his home. he would only light the ones that were your favourite scents. call it an unspoken rule, but it was one that you both kept a secret from one another. after all, what you two had wasn't meant to go beyond closed doors. a mutual exchange, for you two to feel ecstasy without the labels or demands of being in a relationship that would pin you two down. it was better this way.
he loved catching a glimpse of you with your friends, knowing that only hours ago, you were a complete mess under his arms, saying his name like a prayer. but what took the cake was knowing that even if you showered, he could still smell his cologne on your body. it was like a calling card of some sorts. which fed into sunoo being completely possessive over you. knowing that wherever you went, the faintest scent of cologne would remain on your skin —a sign that you were his and his alone.
that was, of course, until his scent vanished from your skin. replaced with a new cologne. maybe it was a mistake, maybe you were just around someone that day who had heavy cologne. the solutions came into his head for why he couldn't smell his cologne on your body when you buried your head into his chest when you came over to his apartment. but none of them could explain why it was a reoccurring thing. why you would leave his bedroom, tainted by sunoo, only for him to see you completely unrecognizable with a new scent on your neck instead. it made his head spin trying to come up with possibilities, answers to the question that was taunting his brain. you were supposed to be his. so why did every touch of your skin feel foreign to him when you were beneath him?
jealously was consuming his brain, it was polluting his soul the more you would arrive to his place smelling like someone else. and if the hunch that was continuing to rot in his stomach was true, sunoo bought the candles with scents that weren't to your liking. he was going to catch you slip up. he needed answers to why the girl in his sheets felt like a stranger. was it jealously? or did he have every right to question the person that he had be slowly become so possessive of?
you entered his apartment like usual that night. only what instantly threw you off was the scent that filled the room. it made you take a step back, trying to re-evaluate what had happened. had he been sleeping with another girl? after all, that was the unspoken rule that made you know that he was still yours. who was he sleeping with? how long? the thoughts flooded into your brain, one after another as the aroma continued to flood your nostrils. all while sunoo was leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest, watching you take in the change of the environment.
"you've changed the candles," you said slowly as you turned to lock eyes with sunoo. he didn't say anything, just continued to stare at you with a faint smile on his lips, as if he had been planning on you to make that observation. why was he so calm about it? jealously bombarded your thoughts as he continued to stare at you with the calm demeanour. you followed his gaze to see him staring at your clothes then back to the candles. and then it finally clicked.
he made his way toward you, his eyes lingering down to your clothes, knowing that he could smell the foreign cologne on your body. his fingers went up, trailing down from your shoulders to where your sweater rested on your hips. his fingers pulled at the fabric, slowly tugging it up while he looked at you. "i don't ever want to smell someone else's cologne on you again," he started while his hands went down to the waistband of your pants. "you understand?'
YANG JUNGWON
he hated seeing you look at men with that doe-like expression. it wasn't like you meant to do it on purpose, but to jungwon —it was the look that you would give to him in bed. and he hated the thought that something he considered so private, something that was his, was so easily shared when you were out chatting with strangers in public.
so maybe the two of you weren't in a relationship, in fact, you both mutually agreed that you both weren't in the right mental state to be dating. henceforth, why you and jungwon were with one another for all the wrong reasons. and you both knew it. but that didn't stop you from having the most intimate moments, both physical and emotional. even if there was no label that tied you two together, you two had gone down the deep hole of investment into something you both agreed would never work out. which only made things harder, he shouldn't be jealous, he shouldn't claim that facial expression you make as something that was only his. but the pit of resentment continued to curl into jungwon's stomach the more casual it became.
it made him livid to see you use it so casually. were you doing it on purpose? you were just as aware as jungwon was that what the two of you had wasn't a committed relationship. were you just toying with his head? the thoughts slowly formed into a whirlwind in his head the more he took note of your conversations with strangers. seeing how you would tilt your chin up, your eyes doing that thing that made him clench his fists. how many times had you looked at him like that in bed? begged for him, called his name out, only for you to use it as a part of your facial vocabulary. it made him absolutely livid. that was something only he was supposed to have with you. him and no one else.
on the other hand, you couldn't stop noticing jungwon's frustration. it was exhilarating to see him getting mad, how his brows would crease and how he would clench his fists. he would never say it outloud, but you knew that he was jealous. after all, the was the look of desperation, one of submission that you would give to him pleadingly behind closed doors. and here you were, using it like it was nothing. and it itched you to know how upset it made jungwon feel. he had no right to feel jealous, or claim that expression as his own —yet, he was going against his own wishes and falling deeper into his emotions. not like he was going to acknowledge it.
it was as if you were riding on cloud nine knowing that he was jealous. knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger. that the slightest facial expression could send him spiralling. which made going to his apartment all worthwhile as soon as the door to his bedroom closed. you could be raw with him, open, and completely possessive knowing just how much he paid attention to you.
as his lips pressed against yours, it wasn't soft like the previous ones. no, this one was forceful, desperate, almost like jungwon wanted you to know that your lips were his and for no one else. you could feel his hands tracing your body, clinging to you like he wasn't planning on letting you go. you slowly pulled back from his lips, turning to look up at him with that same doe-like expression that you had been using so casually only a couple of hours prior. and he noticed, he fucking noticed.
his hands trailed down to your hips, his fingers slowly sliding your shirt up before running his hands to touch your skin. "we're going to have a problem if you ever look at someone else like that," jungwon said as his lips slowly brushed your neck. his eyes locked with yours, his other hand going to tilt your chin up until your lips were only inches from touching his. "i only want you to look at me like that, no one else. just me,"
NISHIMURA RIKI
keeping it casual with niki seemed like all fun and games until the two of you realized just how much repressed emotions you were hiding from one another. you two were the perfect example of understanding that you two weren't meant to date that this present moment, but oh how you could treat each other right.
with that mentality in mind, it was so easy to be jealous, to be possessive. there was no one else that could do it better, to make you feel better. what made matters worse was how you two weren't verbal about your feelings. emotions were forbidden, it was the only way you two wouldn't fall in deeper for one another. but jealously has a way of making you fall deep. at least, that's what you try to ignore every time you're both at a party. it's closed doors when you're together, which means out in public, the idea of you two being a couple is completely non-existent.
so niki hates it when he's seeing you at a pool table, letting a guy get completely handsy with you as he's teaching you how to play. he hates seeing how this man has his hands on your waist, how he's letting his hands linger as you're leaning forward to line up the short. he hates seeing how your ass accidentally brushes his leg and how there's a stolen glance exchanged between the two of you. his fingers clench the red solo cup in his hand, you'd think he'd choose to look away, but no —his eyes are on you 24/7, watching your every move.
at the same time, you hate it when you see him talking to other girls. how they casually inch themselves closer towards him, placing their hands on niki's chest and dragging him to the dance floor where you can see him place his hands on their hips, as their back is pressed against his chest and they're grinding on one another. it's almost like a competition between the two of you, who can get the other person more riled up with jealously. or will you both give in at the same time?
your eyes lock with him from across the room. his hands still on her hips, your ass still pressed against this guy's leg. it isn't until the man behind you starts wrapping an arm around your waist that niki's eyes narrow at the sight. his hands immediately drop from the girl he's dancing with and he starts walking away. you give into the chase and follow him. his tall figure his easy to spot as you head down the halls, seeing where he's going. niki leads you into an empty room, you close the door and to see him staring at you, a lamp being the only thing illuminating your faces from the darkness.
"don't tell me you were jealous back there," you smile as you make your way towards him. you casually wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up so you can see him looking down at you. he doesn't give you a chance to say anything else, his lips are crashing on you, kissing you with such desperation, reminding you that he's yours. his hands trail down to your hips, slowly going to cup your ass before he pulls away from your lips.
"and what if i was?" he says as a smirk etches on his face. he eyes your body before looking up at you one last time and giving you a long kiss. "i don't like it when other guys touch my girl,"
likes, reblogs, feedback & comments are appreciated!
DOG DAYS⋆｡°✩ jake sim series
000. character profiles
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[ real housewives ] - "can you air fry letters from your ex?"
[ yn ] - the "nothing interesting happens in my life" type of girl who also just got dumped by her ex boyfriend (we don't like him). thriving as a university student & crushing adult life. jk she's struggling (@/ynzreal & @/ureyesonly)
[ yunah ] - the "lightweight drinker." do not ask her to make decisions super early in the morning because she will be non responsive. has big brain ideas when she feels obliged to share them (@/uknowitsyunah)
[ giselle ] - the optimistic (and studying to be an optometrist) gal in the group. will not attack unless provoked which is rare, keep it that way. definitely the peacemaker and more rational one in the group (@/gi-selle_)
[ chaewon ] - the "i dropped out of university to be a singer" bestie. singing at the karaoke clubs by night, trying to make banger lyrics by day (@/kcw447)
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[ jake's love island fanclub ] - "there is no we in mario kart"
[ jake ] - the international university student from australia. very much the obsessive father over his dog layla and a friend to all the doggos. he stays up late watching love island instead of doing his physics homework (@/sims4jakesim & @/loveislandfan56)
[ hueningkai ] - the half-american, other love island addict, but also very much into watching lego ninjago in his free time (his element is fire, duh). wouldn't necessarily call him the peacemaker, but he defiantly doesn't cause much of a ruckus unless needed to (@/theredninja_kai)
[ jay ] - the seattle born "i will only drink espresso or an americano" who will stay up super late tuning his electric guitar. he's known jake the longest and doesn't really put up with any shenanigans. very much dad coded (@/parkjay)
[ keeho ] the toronto mans who will randomly burst into a spontaneous song if he feels inclined. loves to instigate drama and plays devil's advocate from time to time. he loves keeping the drama alive (@/_stephenkee911)
( 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘿𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙀? ) ── in which you accidentally take what you think is a “stray dog” only to evoke the wrath of jake sim who is on a manhunt to find out who stole layla
(𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄.) jake sim x fem! reader / alternatively, there's a boy in the same city as you who thinks you stole his dog on purpose and is about to unleash hell into your life. call it fate, call it war, but this boy isn't letting you off the leash any time soon . . .
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[ STARRING / jake sim & jay park from enhypen. noh yunah from illit. kim chaewon from le sserafim. giselle from aespa. yoon keeho from p1harmony. hueningkai from txt. ]
[ GENRE / smau \ crack / fluff \ written / university setting \ non idol au / very much giving one of those random summer films that are just like upbeat vibes but like also insanely chaotic at the same time / non idol au ]
[ FIC NOTES / this is my first social media + written series and i'm so excited to get the chance to write it! please be patient and i'm sorry if there's any mistakes, i'm still figuring out how making social media profiles and fake texts work. i hope you guys enjoy this! ]
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000. character profiles
001. there's a doggo sniffing my booty
002. how do i file a missing dog to the police?
003. i hope your coffee gets cold
[ more chapters to be added soon ! ]
[ / taglist is CLOSED ]
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likes, comments, feedback & reblogs are appreciated!
( 𝙄'𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏 ) ── in which the words that you two have had bottled in finally come out in all it's messy colours for both of you two hear the pleadings in one another's hearts
(𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒) ex boyfriend! lee heeseung x fem! reader, cursing, confrontation, final moment of reconciliation, slowburn interactions, crying, reader gets comforted / w.c 2.3k (read previous part here)
𝐤𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! the long awaited part three is finally out! thank you to everyone that has been with me throughout this series! love you all tons <3 (also i don't know if this needing a part 4 just lmk if we need a better conclusion)
you didn't expect anything to come after that phone call. that maybe it would the last time that he would have walked you to your apartment. you figured it was a one and done type of deal. it was a fluke, a genuine mistake that should have been erased from your brain permanently. only he didn't seem to get the picture.
it threw you off when he texted you out of the blue when you were at work. ever since he had picked you up from your horrendous date, you had forgotten to block his phone number again. yet, seeing his message, that small and simple message was enough for the tiniest smile to crack out of your lips.
i know that this is going to sound super random but do you want to grab breakfast with me tomorrow?
your finger tips took over your senses as you found yourself immediately texting him back. as soon as you pressed the "send" button did you actually process the text message that you had replied to him with. glowing back at you were three letters y-e-s.
your body had no problem with him coming back into your life. after all, you were smiling again. your stomach was doing that thing where it felt like there were dozens of butterflies trapped in your stomach. all while your heart was beating stronger than before. funny, the same heart that yearned to find someone better was beating again for the same boy that had ripped and torn it into a million pieces.
your body had no problem betraying you, ignoring the pain that your ex-boyfriend had previously put you through. it was your mind that made you relive the memories, the ones where you replayed your breakup over and over again. how he was planning on going back to his ex-girlfriend, how you saw him clinging to her body, how you watched him decline your phone call and come up with some stupid excuse to bail on your date. over and over again, you replayed the moments in your head.
but you missed him. even if he fucked you over.
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it felt like old times when you were with heeseung.
sitting across from him at that breakfast place that you two used to go together felt like nothing had changed. he still remembered your favourite meal, how you liked your eggs, and how you liked your coffee. you didn't expect that he would remember given all of the months since you two broke up. but it was nice to know that he still remembered— after all that time of saying that he "forgot".
his hair had grown out now that you were able to take a closer look at him. it was unruly, messy, a part of you wanted to reach over and run your fingers though his hair but you restrained yourself. the other part of you could see that there were bags under his eyes, tiny crinkles when he smiled that were filled with some emptiness. and even though you wanted to grab him by his hand, ask him what was wrong, you knew that you couldn't. not while there were unanswered questions that you needed to clear out for yourself.
breakfast was quiet. the occasional moments of talking, but there was something about eating in silence that felt peaceful. you two didn't need to say anything, the presence alone was enough. yes, he asked you about work, yes, you told him that you finally got around to watching that show he once recommended —but even if things were partially familiar, there was that void, that hole that you two avoided.
"can i ask you something?" you ask as you set your fork down on your plate.
"yeah, sure. what's up?"
you finally turn to look up at heeseung, whose still eating his breakfast. in that moment your eyes lock, your heart goes up into your chest, but the words slip out of your lips anyways.
"why did you breakup with your girlfriend?"
silence filled your booth like a gust of wind as you two didn't break eye contact from one another. this was your moment, your chance to finally start getting the answers that you wanted. if he had been so persistent on cheating, on wanting to get back with his ex-girlfriend, the person he told you not to worry about —why were you with him across the table and not her?
"things didn't work out between us," heeseung replied as he finally chose to break eye contact and look down at his plate. his fork scratching the leftover pieces of bacon that were in front of him.
"well, no shit," you reply as you lean back into your chair and cross your arms over your chest. "what happened? did you find someone else to cheat on when you went back with her?"
he winced at your comment but he didn't find any reason to retort. heeseung had been in the wrong ever since you caught him cheating on you that one night. and while he wanted to tell you the truth, his lips couldn't bring out the words that his heart had been begging to say from the moment he saw you in your hotel lobby.
"it's not like that,"
"oh really? then what? if you always wanted to get back with her, why breakup the relationship that you always wanted?" it bothered you that he was looking down at his plate, that he couldn't look you in the eye and confess the damn truth. what was he hiding? what was it that couldn't he bring himself to say?
"because i wanted you,"
it felt like a slap to the face hearing those words come out of his mouth. after all this time, he wanted you back. you shook your head, you felt your heart continue to beat faster, your throat closing up, the tears welling in your face as you could barely see his face through the stream of water wanting to escape your eyes. no, this was not the answer you were planning on hearing.
your feet acted first, one minute you were sitting across from heeseung and the next, you're walking out of the restaurant with tears rolling down your cheeks as you walk down the crowded streets. why were you crying? you had no reason to bawl, no reason to be sad. and yet, your heart couldn't stop yearning, your stomach couldn't stop fluttering, it was your mind that forced you to ignore your senses and deny yourself from the reality that escaped his lips.
his voice called out for you while you continued to walk down the streets. you drowned it out with the sounds of other passerby's, the cars, the horns, the people yelling and talking. and while you thought you had lost him in the crowd —a hand grabbed you by the wrist.
turning around, heeseung was just as teary eyed as you. his eyes were begging, yearning, to give you an explanation.
"go away, heeseung," you said as you tried to pull his hand away from your grasp.
"just let me explain—"
"—explain what?" you started as you gazed up into his eyes. he could finally see how hurt you were, from the tears that trailed down your face, to how your lip jutted, and your pulse speeding as he continued to hold your wrist in his hand.
"you broke up with me heeseung. you told me that you wanted to go back to her that night. and now i'm finding out the reason that you broke up with your ex is because you missed me?" you sobbed as you finally drew your hand away from his grasp.
"i know, and i'm sorry—"
"—are you? do you have any idea how much you broke me that night? how many times i cried myself to sleep wondering what i did wrong? what i did to make you cheat on me? and now i'm finding out that all this time that you were with another girl you wanted me back?" you shake your head, watching his eyes widen as you confessed the pain that he had brought upon you.
"just leave me alone, i don't ever want to see you again,"
and with those words. you turned on your heel and walked away from heeseung. no explanation, no chance for him to explain anything. just the silence, knowing that he wanted you back for you give him no reason to explain in return.
there was no point in getting closure —no, not like this.
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you figured he would have gotten the picture after you walked away from him. but heeseung was persistent, he wasn't willing to give up.
it started off with him leaving your favourite flower on your door, until it turned into bouquets, baskets of your favourite snacks and candies, a box of your favourite chocolates, your favourite candles. he was swarming you with presents, and while it seemed desperate —you would catch yourself smirking as you would bring his gifts into your apartment,
all this time, when he seemed bored of going shopping with you. when he made it seem like he forgot about your favourite things, he had always remembered.
and then you caught him red handed. he was standing outside of your doorway, his jacket, clothes and hair completely drenched from the rain pour outside and you watched as you walked down the hall to see him drop your favourite fast food meal on your doorstep.
as he turned to go down the hall, his eyes locked with yours. the look of fear touched his eyes as you made your way towards him. he stuttered as he opened his mouth to speak. "look, i can explain—" he started. but heeseung was immediately cut off as you pressed your hand to his forehead.
"come inside, you're going to catch a cold," you mumble as you grab him by the wrist while unlocking your apartment and letting him in.
he was jaw dropped by your action, grabbing your bag of food and walking into your apartment. you gestured him to the couch, grabbing him a blanket, and making your way over to the kitchen to make him a tea while he shivered to stay warm. heeseung's body relaxed as he found himself sinking into your couch, he could smell the perfume on your blanket mixed with the scent candles that he had given you that you had lit.
no words were said. as much as he wanted to pour his heart out, he sat there watching you like a puppy as you poured him a glass of warm tea before grabbing him a towel so that he could dry his hair off.
"what are you doing here, heeseung?" you asked as you watched him take a sip of tea. you leaned over and grabbed the bag of food that he had left on the table.
"i just wanted to drop you off some food," he replied while shivering.
"you've been dropping things off at my place for the past week. i thought i made it very clear that i didn't want to see you again," you said as you grabbed another blanket and throwing it on top of his body.
"i know and i'm sorry. i wanted to explain to you everything since i saw you that day when i was in your lobby. but then i noticed you were going on a date and i didn't want to interfere with that, and then you called me to pick you up from the date and it was so good getting to see you again and talk to you—"
"—heeseung, you're rambling,"
"look, what i'm trying to say is that i screwed up. i know that i fucked up. what i did is inexcusable. i cheated on you because i was mad that you weren't making any time for me in your life. i felt like i wasn't a priority compared to your job. i was hurting and so i started texting my ex. she started giving me the attention that i felt i wasn't getting from you. and so i started seeing her and the attention that she was giving me felt great, i felt wanted, i felt needed. but as soon as i said that i was planning on going back to her when you confronted me, i realized that she and i didn't have any emotional connection. and that's a stupid excuse, i know. but it made me miss you, because you remembered all of the tiny details about me, you made me feel like i mattered, and i was too blinded by my pride to realize that you were giving me the attention. i was greedy and i wanted more," heeseung said as he let out a long exhale.
his eyes locked with yours, both of you teary eyed as you sat in your living room. the two of you with your stomachs and hearts twisted and entangled with emotions that didn't make much sense.
"you have every right not to forgive me, to hate me and i promise that i'll leave for good. i just wanted you to know that you were the best person in my life and i took advantage of your love and your kindness. as much as i want a second chance, i respect if you decide not to give me it. i hurt you, i hurt you so much and all i want to do is to fix what i did wrong,"
you said nothing. you brain picked at his words, trying to process what had escaped his lips. was he being genuine? yet, you saw him shiver in the blankets you gave him. if there was one thing about lee heeseung was that you knew he didn't like going out in the rain. he would order in food, stay indoors and do anything to stay away from the storms outside. but if he was willing to risk it all to see you —then maybe it was a sign that things could change.
"then let's fix this," you start as you open your bag and hand him part of your meal. a faint smile touches both of your lips as he accepts your peace offering, your fingers brushing his for a mere second. "let's fix this together,"
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