#BamBam scenarios

[spacequokka]

Nobody But You

Pairing: Crown Prince! BamBam x Reader Genre: Royalty AU, Fluff Rating: M (sorry children) Summary: You're paid to kill the young king and learn your contract wasn't exclusive. So naturally, you switch teams. Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: language (it's me after all), violence, blood, minor character deaths

A/N: Well, this one ran away from me. The urge to write for Assassin's Creed found me again but oops wrong fandom? I hope you enjoyed my little royalty au with Got7! <3

It isn't often that you go against a paid contract. You're good at what you do and it's easy money. Good money. So when you were approached for a high-profile kill, you anticipated all the ways you'd spend the money afterward. It was more than enough to take a vacation, maybe even retire and start life anew following your dreams.

Sure, it was at the expense of the newly crowned King, but it was a lot of money. And you happened to like money.

The night was crisp with a chill that quickly settled in your bones. Your breath lingered in the air as a cloud with each soft exhale. At three in the morning, the castle grounds were as still as death. Nothing moved and no one made a sound. You leaned against the cool stone wall of the castle, heart racing with excitement. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over everything, illuminating the path ahead. A week of recon suggested the job would be simple--slip in through the hidden entrance, go up to his chambers and quietly end his life. The guards on duty would likely be asleep, but you had tranquilizer darts just in case. Sneak back out and come morning you'd collect your paycheck after the body was discovered by his maids.

So then, why did you hear whispers and rustling noises ahead of you?

Peeking around the corner, you spotted a couple of figures creeping along the wall using the shrubs as cover. They were dressed in dark cloaks, not so quietly discussing their plans.

"That idiot has no idea what's coming," one sneered.

Exhibit A on why you needed to vet your employers before taking a contract. The desperate ones with money to throw away tended to hire one too many people for the job. You would think your reputation and immaculate record would be all the reassurance needed that the job would get done. But no. Being a woman seemed to wash away all of those accolades.

Unfortunately, besides being skilled and competent, you were also extremely petty. No one steals your contract or the cash associated with it. If anyone was killing the King, it would be you or no one at all.

You unsheathed your dagger, eyes set on a new prey. The night might be a bust, but you wouldn't go home without taking your anger out on those responsible. An unseen leaf gave away your approach seconds before you drove your blade up to the hilt through one of their backs.

"What the hell?" The other one looked on in horror for a solid second before thinking to draw his own weapon. He moved too slow. You shoved his dying friend forward and off your blade, striking quickly with a slash across his throat. The resulting blood splatter spiked your ire up another notch. You should've known better. Now you needed a bath, too. With a huff, you cleaned your blade off on one of their cloaks and went to sheath it when you heard a shout followed by the sounds of a fight.

Nope. Don't do it. Don't go in there and get involved. Go home, shower, get in bed and try again tomorrow.

Ugh, but what if he doesn't live to see tomorrow?

You stomped your foot and groaned, stepping over the bodies and through the hidden entrance.

Inside the castle was consumed in chaos. Royal guards and knights were engaged in battle with all sorts of mercenaries and assassins, most of which you knew personally. Just how many people were hired to kill the King?!

"Arrrgh!" Some poor, misguided guard saw you and took it upon himself to deal with you. He would've stood a chance had he not announced his intent with his little war cry, allowing you to dodge his sword and clip his feet. He lost his balance and fell into the wall beside you, knocking himself out in the process. Because of course, he would. Surely the King would have better, daresay smarter, fighters defending him, right?

Right?

You wanted to kick your own ass as you picked up the guard's sword. There'd be no sleeping tonight if you didn't make sure your target would make it through the night. It wouldn't be too hard to make it up to his room, check on him, then disappear amidst the chaos. Just a peek, that's it. Nothing more.

You headed for the corridor leading to his chambers and cursed when you saw another person in black tiptoeing through the dimly lit hall. Just what in the Julius Caesar hell was going on around here? The idiot didn't even notice you following him, too busy avoiding being seen by the guards rushing about in search of intruders. 'Amateurs.'

To top it off, there were no guards stationed by the king's bedroom door! You'd thought of Julius Ceasar as a joke earlier but the situation was closer to that than you'd imagined. The man hadn't been on the throne for more than a few days and already someone had gone through so much trouble to ensure it wouldn't be longer than that.

Just as the man reached the door, you made your move. "Not so fast," you hissed in his ear. He yelped as he turned to face you only to have your sword shoved into his chest. Flailing wildly, he fell back against the door with enough force to break the hinges, falling through the doorway.

The king and the assailant he was fighting off both stopped for a moment to look at you.

"Another one?!" BamBam shouted at the same you groaned.

"You've got to be kidding me. Did he hire everyone in the damned kingdom?" You yanked the sword out of the body as you stepped into the room. "I'm trying not to take this personally, but it's beginning to be insulting."

"Is that you, _____?" The attacker kicked BamBam away using his foot on his chest. "He's my kill. Get out of here."

You rolled your eyes. "Have you not seen the state of things outside? Everyone's here to kill him." You gave the King an apologetic smile. Grimace? "No offense, Your Majesty. Nothing personal."

"None taken, I suppose." When he tried to get to his feet, the man lunged at him again with his weapon poised to drive through BamBam's chest. You moved swiftly, tackling him and grabbing the dagger. Someone yelled out--it wasn't you--as the struggle resumed, this time with you driving your elbow into the man's ribs, weakening his hold.

The minute he realized you had the upper hand, he used his free hand to grab your throat and squeezed with all his might. Being the brute he was, his grip was incredible. The urge to let go of your weapons in favor of yanking on his hand was strong, but you knew it'd be the last thing you'd do if you did. Your grip on his dagger weakened as you became light-headed, air and time running out.

There was shuffling that sounded far away to your ears before a heavy book dropped down on the man's face making him jerk and let go of his weapon. It was the break you needed, as you turned the dagger in your hand and jabbed it through his ribs and up into his chest. He cried out with a wet cough, blood coating his lips as his hand left your throat. You drew in a deep breath, making your vision blur as you rolled off him, but not before driving your dagger into his heart.

"Holy shit!" There was what sounded like a stampede at the doorway before two men appeared at the King's side, helping him up to his feet and away from you and the dead assassin. "Your Majesty, are you hurt?"

"Nothing more than a few bruises, Eunwoo." He forced a laugh. "Thanks to her."

This was the opposite of being unseen. You groaned as you rolled over, blinking to force your vision to clear while breathing deeply. The quicker you pulled yourself together, the quicker you could escape before the guards tried to deal with you.

"No doubt she's here to collect on the bounty on your head as well. Take her to the dungeon--"

"No! Wait, Mingyu. She saved me!" BamBam pulled away from his knights. "She put herself in harm's way to keep him from killing me."

"Because she can't claim money for someone else's work." Mingyu looked at you, mouth set in a sneer. "She didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart, Your Majesty."

Yeah, this wasn't looking good for you. Using the sturdy oak dresser as a crutch, you pulled yourself to your feet. "Don't mind me. I'm just gonna go home and hopefully sleep off this nightmare." You touched your throat delicately and tried to clear your throat. "I'll be on my way."

One of the knights cut off your path to the door, hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. "Not so fast. You heard him. You're not going anywhere."

"For heaven's sake, will you two listen to me?" BamBam pushed his way over to you and stood between you three. "She saved my life! I owe her for that, no matter the reason she's here." He turned to you, eyes going to your throat. He reached for you and you flinched but when you didn't move to stop him, his fingers traced the marks left behind from the struggle. "Your beautiful skin..."

You shrugged and gave him a shy smile. "I've had worse. It'll heal."

His gaze flicked up to yours and he bit his lip. "Are you really here to kill me too?"

"Was. I don't like competition."

"Wait," Mingyu looked at you with an expression you couldn't decipher. "You took out more than just these two?" He pointed at the two dead bodies.

Your mouth opened and closed as you contemplated admitting to more crimes right there in the King's face. When you didn't answer, BamBam tapped your cheek to bring your attention back to him. "How much were you promised?"

"Um," you licked your lips and wished you had your weapon on you. That other knight looked jumpy. "One hundred thousand."

BamBam nodded as the curious look in his eyes morphed into something dangerous as the wheels in his head turned. "I'll triple that if you agree to be my bodyguard."

"Your Majesty!"

"That's insane!"

You gulped and he noticed seeing as his hands were still on your neck and cheek. Why hadn't he let go? Why was he still so close? "I don't think your men will let that fly."

"Your fate is not up to them. Clearly, I need more skilled fighters on my side if I'm to remain on the throne. And it wouldn't hurt to have such a deadly, beautiful woman at my side. So what do you say?"

[lucuslavigne]

𖦹 O pai manja!

Bambam × Leitora.

๑: Bam sendo um papai ansioso pela chegada da filhinha, fluffy.

Espero que gostem.

— Kunpimook Bhuwakul! — falou assim que entrou no quarto da futura filhinha de vocês.

— Que susto mulher! — colocou a mão do lado esquerdo do peito. — Quer me matar?

— Eu quero que você pare de mudar os móveis da Phailin de lugar. — o disse.

— Mas desse jeito fica melhor! — respondeu como se fosse o óbvio.

— Você já me disse isso três vezes hoje. — suspirou.

— O pai manja! Relaxa amor.

— Bambam... — arqueou uma sobrancelha.

— É que eu 'tô ansioso com a chegada da nossa pequena. — confessou.

— Eu sei meu amor. — chegou perto do tailandês. — Mas isso só vai te deixar mais ansioso ainda.

— Tem razão. — se deu por vencido. — Vamos assistir algo então? — pegou sua mão.

— Vamos. — andou com o mesmo até a sala, onde colocaram um filme qualquer em que Adam Sandler atuava.

Passaram-se uns vinte minutos de filme, e Bambam parecia mais inquieto que antes.

— Bambam. — chamou a atenção do mais alto.

— Desculpa meu bem, mas eu 'tô muito ansioso. — deu risada.

— Coloca a mão aqui. — pegou as mãos do tailandês e as colocou em sua barriga, fazendo o maior sentir a movimentação da pequena Phailin.

— Ela mexeu! — falou feliz.

— Ela também está ansiosa pra' vir ao mundo, ela é muito agitada, que nem você. — riu.

— O papai ama você meu amor! — beijou sua barriga. — Espero que você seja linda como eu.

— Ah pronto. — riu. — Ela vai ser linda que nem a mamãe dela.

— Não duvido. — te beijou.

— Amo você Bam. — sorriu.

— Eu também amo você minha vida.

[burymewithsmut]

It's been a minute since Bam's bias wrecked me with a karate chop to the throat like this. 🤌🏾

Baby You're Mine

Pairing: Bambam x female Reader

A/N: I wrote smut again, same rules. MDNI. If you hate it, don't tell me. Unprotected sex. They might both be switches, I don't know. Best friends, Bambam and Reader, he finally caves and expresses how he feels. Guest staring Jaehyun, kind of. 2100-ish words

You were starting to get dinner ready for you and Bambam when he yells out, asking you to grab his ringing cell phone. Neither of you are sure how the friendship developed the way it did, but you have trust in each other like no other, you were even each other’s emergency contacts. 

“Hey, Bambam’s phone, can I take a message?”

“Oh, shit. Hey. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s Jaehyun.”

“Yep, I kind of figured, your contact info did pop up. What’s up? Did you want Bambam to call you back?”

Jaehyun froze on the other end, not sure what he should say next. Obviously you were going to pick up, the two of you are inseparable. It was something Jaehyun didn’t take into consideration when he called.

“Actually. Nevermind. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, sick of trying to get any information out of Jaehyun. Normally he was much more put together than whatever the hell this phone call was. “I’ll have him call you back.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s too late anyways.”

“Really cryptic of you but whatever.”

“I was going to ask you out. But you’re seeing Bambam now aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, it was something you regularly dealt with. So many failed dates, men that were about to approach you but would turn around the moment Bambam appeared beside you.

“No, actually, we’re just friends.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask him if he was cool with me asking you out, I was hoping I could get your phone number from him if you were interested.”

Bambam was waiting by the kitchen doorway, curious about who you were talking to for so long considering it was his phone. You mouth out Jaehyun’s name and point to the phone.

“Yeah, sounds great. I’ll have him text you my phone number. Bye Jaehyun.”

“You’re friends with Jaehyun now?” Bambam questions as you hand him his phone back to him.

“He actually asked me out.”

You couldn’t be sure but it looked almost as if Bambam was disappointed with the recent development and being the accidental wing man in the process. 

“Sure. Cool. Whatever. Jaehyun’s great.”

There was no way you were going to decode all of that, trying to get any information out of Jaehyun was challenging enough. At some point Bambam would come around, he had to, you could tell that there was something bothering him and he could only hold it in for so long.

You called for Bambam to come over and taste test the soup you were making for dinner for the two of you. Carefully, you lift a spoon to Bambam’s mouth, and a little bit spills out from the side of his mouth. You bring your hand to his mouth and drag your thumb at the corner of his mouth to wipe the spill off him. Bambam brings his hand to capture your wrist and hold it in place.

“Please, don’t go out with him.” Bambam’s eyes were filled with such sadness that you have never seen before, and never want to see again. “I’m sorry this has taken me so long. I’ve been too nervous to ask you out myself.” Bambam took a step back and lowered himself to his knees in front of you. “Please, cancel your date with Jaehyun. Go out with me instead.”

The sight of Bambam on his knees filled you with a desire you didn’t know you had, he looked beautiful. You let out a low whine of his name, alerting him to the effect he currently has on you.

“Oh, fuck. Are you turned on?” There was no point in answering, he knew you were. That just happened to be a side effect of being so close, you might have overshared one too many desires and stories with each other. “Having me completely at your will? Is that all it takes for you to finally notice me? I should have done this a long time ago.”

Maybe there’s a reason everyone thinks you’re dating, maybe there is something there that you had always been too blind to see. The way you’re always there for each other, how you’re each other’s favourite person and first priority in every situation. Clearly there’s something there if you’ve both had failed relationships because their partner didn’t approve of how close the two of you are. 

“I’ll cancel. We’ll give the two of us a shot. I’m just scared to lose you” 

Pleased with your answer, Bambam began to lift your shirt up and place delicate kisses along the waistband of your jeans while waiting for you to send that text to Jaehyun.

“You won’t, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Not even my bedroom?” you tease him.

“I’m definitely going there.”

“I guess dinner can wait.”

You pull Bambam to his feet and lead him to your bedroom, like he hadn’t been in your place a thousand times before, he was more familiar with your apartment than his own at this point. Bambam kicks your door closed behind him and pulls you into him, one hand on your hip and the other holding the back of your head.

“Can I kiss you?”

You gently press your lips against his, just testing the waters waiting for him to reciprocate. Bambam mutters a quiet curse before closing the distance, kissing you like he was scared you were going to disappear. No one else has ever held you as tight as he did, or kissed you like he did. Bambam quickly grew impatient and even more desperate for you, switching positions so he had you pinned against the bedroom door, slotting his thigh between your legs. 

“Grind on me. Show me that you want me as bad as I want you.”

You follow Bambam’s instructions, using his thigh to try to get yourself off, moaning into his neck at the friction. Using the hand that wasn’t supporting the two of you against the door, Bambam dips the tips of his fingers into your jeans, making you want more and waiting for your approval.

“Fuck Bambam, just touch me. I don’t care where or how. I just need something.”

You moved your hands that have been grabbing at Bambam to undo the button on your jeans giving him more space to slide his hand into your underwear. Painfully slow, he runs one finger over your clit before sliding it into you. Needing more, you begin rolling your hips, using the palm of his hand to rub your clit against. Bambam slightly pulls his finger out to tease you before sliding a second one in. The stretch leaves you needing more and has you riding his fingers even harder than you already had been.

“If you’re already this desperate from a few fingers, how’re you going to take my cock?” Again, he pulls his fingers out to provide more attention to your clit, gently rubbing it, teasing while you whine for more.

You toy with the button and zipper of his jeans, wanting to finally touch him. Bambam helps your fumbling hands undress him, leaving him in his shirt and a pair of tight fitting boxers, the tip of his cock sticking out of the top. You gently dragged your thumb across the tip, making him wince in pleasure of finally being touched.

“Look who’s all sensitive now.” 

You place your hands on his chest for some space as you finish undressing yourself, instructing him to do the same. Bambam sits on the edge of your bed while you drop to your knees in front of him.

“I can see why me being on my knees turned you on so much. It’s hot.”

“Hey, Bam, shut up for a minute.”

“Make me shut u-” 

Cutting off his smart ass comment, you instantly take as much of Bambam’s cock in your mouth as you can manage. Bambam moans, unintentionally thrusting into your mouth.

“Fuck. You didn’t even give me time to prepare.”

 You pull back at Bambam’s sudden intrusion, and using your free hand you pump what your mouth can’t reach, you use your tongue to give extra attention to the tip. Bambam places his hand on the back of your head, gently grabbing onto your hair, unsure if he’s allowed to ask for more. You can sense the internal battle he’s having with himself and again, without warning, take even more of him, pressing your nose into his pubic bone. Bambam tries to hold himself still as he catches you reaching between your legs to touch yourself. 

“Are you-” He holds himself back from fucking into your face when he realizes that you are in fact touching yourself. “Did sucking my cock turn you on that much? I bet you wish my fingers were fucking you.”

You pull off Bambam and switch to using your hand to jerk him off. “You’re so fucking chatty.”  The rise and fall of Bambam’s chest paired with the sinful moans leaving his mouth were a tell-tale sign that he was getting close, but he wasn’t quite ready yet. You began to slow down the movement of your hand and make sure to tease the tip of his cock with each passing movement.

“Shit. I’m close. So close. Just a little more.” 

The sight of Bambam on his knees in the kitchen begging for your attention was enough for you to want him to do it again, so you stop and pull your hand away from him, denying him the orgasm he was so close to.

“What the fuck!”

“I wonder if Jaehyun is more patient than you,” you mutter, mocking him. Annoyed, Bambam places his hand at the back of your head, giving your hair a slight tug.

“Don’t you ever mention another guy’s name while we’re about to fuck.”

Ready for more, you stand up and place a hand on Bambam’s chest, pushing him to lay down on the bed. 

“You have such a way with words, Bam.”

Once Bambam was comfortable and laying back, ready for you, you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Eager and more than happy to help out, Bambam grabbed his cock to tease along your folds, intentionally catching himself on your clit, repeatedly. 

“How do you like being teased?”

“Is that the best you’ve got?”

Bambam’s hands find their way to your hips, gripping tightly so he can flip you underneath him. “I might be chatty but you’re so mouthy.” You watch as Bambam’s eyes meet yours and that’s when it hits you. You’re about to sleep with your best friend.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask. “This is going to change the whole foundation of our friendship.”

Bambam lowers himself to trail his lips along your collarbone and up your neck before stopping and lifting your chin to look him in the eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You close the remaining distance to gently press your lips against his. “Let’s do this.”

Encouraged by your words, Bambam presses his lips harder against yours, as he leans into you to push you to lay down. With a groan of having to break away, he supports his weight one one arm and uses his other hand to guide his cock into you, slowly, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“More. I need more Bam.”

Bambam grabs you by the back of your thigh to hold you at an angle to fuck you deeper and harder. 

“Touch yourself.” 

You bring two fingers to Bambam’s lips, him taking them in his mouth and sucking and moaning around them. Bambam watches as you bring your wet fingers to rub at your clit, which encourages him to move faster, his hips slamming into you.

“Please tell me you’re close.”

“So close,” he answers, punctuating each word with a thrust harder than the last. “Not without you.” The surprise feeling of Bambam’s hands holding yours was enough to make you clench around him with the sudden affection. “That’s it. Gripping me so tight, baby. Keep it up.”

“Bam. I’m cu-.” Between the feeling of his hand in yours and encouragement it was enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm triggering Bambam’s own as you tighten around him and arch your back off the bed into him. Bambam stilled inside of you waiting for your orgasms to pass while he placed light kisses over your chest. 

“Take care of my heart, will you?”

With a smile you place a hand on Bambam’s cheek. “With honour.” Neither of you wanted to break the shared moment, you knew you had to. “Bam, we need to clean up.”

Bambam watched as he slowly pulled out of you, before jumping to his feet with excitement. “Round two in the shower!”

You knew you would be in for a long night with the recent development of the relationship but with Bambam it didn’t seem so bad.

taglist: @leejenoenthusiast

[tangerineastronaut]

Let's Put the End in Friends | Jackson Wang (Part 2)

Part 1

The one where your best friend/sort of boyfriend really wants to fuck you.

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, SMUT, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 7.8k Warnings: reader is bad at feelings, jackson is in love, two horny weirdos, "begging" for sex (but not in a bad/manipulative way there's a mutual understanding ok), oral - fem!receiving (the man eats it like cake even after he hits), unprotected sex (don't do it unless you're best friends with Jackson Wang and I'm guessing you aren't), discussion of contraceptives, breeding kink sorta kinda heh, brief talk of having kids in future, banter, teasing, name calling, dirty talk, I think that's all?? they're still really annoying except just horny now A/N: Ughhhh here's the part two that I desperately wanted to write and finally people requested it!! This chapter is like 15% feelings and 85% smut, but it's all kinda mixed in so I apologize in advance. Jfc I love these two so much. If this is bad I'm sorry! I love writing where it takes me and it all felt right. I love my readers so much. <3 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

You hadn’t really known what to expect. 

In dramas, after a confession, things were usually a little awkward, shy, sweet. But the day after Jackson confessed to you, he nearly bit your hand off when you tried to steal one of his dumplings. Granted, you bit him first, but it was his job to be chivalrous, not yours. 

“Um, maybe eat your own before you try to steal mine?”

“I’m literally just a girl, Jackson.”

A few weeks after said confession, things were still mostly the same, as you were awoken by someone pinching your cheek. Bleary eyed, you squinted, looking up at a very hot, very annoyed face. 

“Where the hell is my academy sweatshirt? I’m gonna be late for my shift,” he huffed, giving you another pinch. Jackson worked part time at an MMA academy, teaching a class of young children. Unfortunately, that meant three days out of the week, he had to wake up at 7 in the morning to be ready by 8. And if he was up, so were you. 

“I dunno,” you whined groggily, rolling over. “I didn’t wear it. Promise.”

“Liar,” he accuses. 

“Mmn. ‘m not lying, check my laundry.”

You hear shuffling, the sound of your hamper being opened (filled with clean clothes, because dirty clothes go on the bathroom floor of course), and quickly tug the blanket over your head as Jackson calls your bluff. 

“At least it’s clean,” you attempt to plead your case, but the covers are yanked off. You yelp as Jackson flips you onto your back and begins to tickle you. 

“Didn’t wear it, huh? Seriously, of all my clothes?” he snarls, fingers digging into your sides. You can’t speak; you instead make animalistic noises of possession as you attempt to free yourself. You wrap your legs around his waist and shove at his chest, shouting apologies in between fits of laughter. 

At last, the tickling ends, and you all but collapse against the sheets, sprawled out like half a starfish. 

“I’m going to start charging you for the things you steal,” Jackson says, breathless himself from the efforts of torture. Only then are you made aware that his hands are on your thighs. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, until you do, when he squeezes them beneath his palms and brushes his thumbs under your pajama shorts. 

“Hey,” you warn, wriggling beneath him. He laughs and leans over you. 

“What?”

“You know what. Get off of me.”

He sighs, letting his head drop down as though weary. 

When he looks at you again, his eyes have gone all soft, and it makes you feel warm and tingly inside. You swallow and force yourself to look away. You weren’t completely immune to his charms and didn’t want to risk it, answering the question he hadn’t asked. 

“Nope.”

That was the deal. 

Kissing was alright—as long as it wasn’t too long or too deep. Touching was fine too, just avoid any erogenous zones. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you’d placed such heavy restrictions on your…relationship? Whatever this was. Probably because at the end of the day, you were still terrified of losing him. Of crossing a bridge that crumbles behind you, never being able to return to where you were. 

Right now, the two of you could still be around your friends, could still shamelessly flirt and insist it isn’t flirting. When you’d shown up to dinner with the guys, your hand clasped in Jackson’s to test the waters, no one said a word. Youngjae crinkled his nose and said it was cringe…and that’s it. That was the only reaction. The only people surprised about this development were the two of you, apparently, mostly you. And, you hadn’t realized how horny you were for one another. 

When you’d stare at him after a shower, when he had the audacity to drink juice from the carton wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, you noticed that…you’ve always stared. That wasn’t new. It’s just that you were now aware of it, and also very aware of how it felt to see his throat working as he swallows, beads of water dripping down his chest and following the dip of his abs like a treasure map for your tongue—

But it went both ways, fortunately, as Jackson’s playful way of grabbing your waist when you were busily bent over no longer felt fun, but rather, made you want to push against him, feel his hands sliding elsewhere, because god had they always been so big? Had his fingers always been so long?

Presently, Jackson rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek. You refuse to look at him still, so he tilts down, where his lips brush your throat; when your head snaps up to scold him, he takes the opportunity to catch your lips with his, sighing as though relieved. 

Kissing him feels so normal that it’s almost painful, like every second his lips are against yours, you ask yourself why you were so stupid, why you hadn’t noticed before, why you hadn’t understood that the feelings you’ve had for him were being confused for platonic when they were much, much closer to something akin to lo—

“Mmff…ou’re ‘unna ‘ee ate,” you mumble, though Jackson doesn’t stop kissing you. You giggle as your words are slurred by his mouth, which in turn makes him smile, which in turn makes you wrap your arms around his neck and consider begging him to let the kids down just this once. 

You know he wouldn’t hesitate. So that’s why you groan and push him away. You squirm from beneath him before he can snatch you up, fixing your pajamas as though you were preparing to walk the red carpet. When you look up at Jackson, he’s on his knees on your bed, hands gripping the covers and head tilted to the side. Oh. 

“Stop looking at me like that, puppy boy,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You cross your arms, taking on the weight of the world’s strongest soldier as Jackson fucking Wang silently begs to bend you over the mattress

Jackson lets his legs slip over the side, feet planted on the floor as he tugs you toward him by the strings of your shorts. You whine in protest—losing a drawstring was so—

“I think you like it when I beg,” Jackson says, voice too low to be good for your health. You look at him in surprise, his expression hasn’t really changed, but why did he have to do this to you?

“I think you’re gonna be late,” you huff, feeling your cheeks redden. 

“I think you’re cute when you blush.”

“I think—”

“I think we’re gonna be good for each other.”

“It was my turn,” you pout. “I think you need a cold shower.”

Jackson mumbles something you don’t catch as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. His arms hang loosely around your hips, and you’re once again left with emotional whiplash as the man somehow goes from fuck me~ to hold me in the span of a few seconds. You swallow and rake your fingers through his hair (which he pulls at less nowadays, thanks to your nagging). 

“I want to,” you say quietly, nails scratching at his head. “But I’m scared. Like…we could probably bounce back from this, and from holding hands and even kissing. But I’m afraid that I’d never be able to, you know, not hurt around you the further we go if things turn out bad. We just don’t know what’ll happen if we commit. That’s scary.”

To your surprise, Jackson squeezes you tighter. He tilts his head back to look up at you, his chin resting just above your belly button. 

“What is it gonna take, pie?” he asks softly. Your brows furrow, though he continues. “What’s it gonna take for you to realize I’ve been yours this entire time?”

Your breath catches in your throat; you know he can feel it from the way your stomach tightens. He noses at the material of your top, planting a kiss there. Then the bastard opens his mouth again. You can taste his words.

“You own me, baby.”

You wake up confused and sweaty, fumbling around for your phone. You grab the device and groan—it’s not even five in the morning, and it’s a saturday. 

The dream woke you up. You and Jackson had an idea to conserve water, apparently, sharing a shower too small for one person let alone two. Your brain filled in the blanks for the missing information, unfortunately for you, though you had no doubt he was as beautiful in this reality, too.

It was almost impossible for you to go back to sleep after waking up usually, so you throw the covers off with much more attitude than necessary before quietly stepping out of your room. The light beneath Jackson’s door is off, and you tiptoe down the hall, but when you round the corner to the kitchen you gasp in surprise. 

Jackson raises a brow at you, taking a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. He’s wearing nothing but black boxers, showing off the lean muscles he works so hard on. So very hard. 

“You’re up?” he asks, and by his raspy tone it’s clear he woke up not long before you. You nod and shrug for no reason at all other than to distract from the fact that your eyes are eating him alive. He has the sexiest bedhead, and the thin chain he wears glints as it drapes over his collar bones.

“Thirsty,” you lie. You move past him to reach the fridge, but an arm hooks around your waist. You inhale sharply as you’re tugged against his chest, the warmth of him shooting tingles down your back. You swallow, and he holds the bottle in front of you. 

“Here,” he mumbles. He sounds so casual, like his actions hadn’t just made your soul briefly leave your physical form. You take the water from him and tilt your head back for a sip, not having realized how thirsty you were until you’ve finished half of it. 

You turn around, though he doesn’t release you, so you remain pressed to his bare chest. You have no idea why, but you lean forward and kiss him just below his collar bone, realizing too late how cruel you were being. In an attempt to make it chaste, you kiss the other side, right above his heart, though Jackson’s hand flies to your hair. He cups the back of your head and refuses to let you move. 

“Jackson,” you protest, but he whines. 

He fucking. Whines. 

“Please, pie. Just keep your lips on me. Please,” he breathes. You exhale a shaky breath and nod. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, and you swear he sighs with relief. You watch his face, tilting in again and pressing another kiss to the same spot as before. Jackson nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. 

You kiss the center of his chest, lips dragging over his skin to his left pec. When you move a tad bit lower, this time where his heart beats, he hisses and tightens his grip in your hair. You gasp for all the right reasons, though he doesn’t know that.  

“Fuck, sorry,” he whispers as though the two of you are sneaking around rather than doing…whatever this was in the middle of your shared kitchen. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you giggle softly. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Jackson looks down at you, his expression morphing completely into…calmness? But it still puts you on edge. 

“What’d I say?” you ask with a frown. 

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year,” he admits. 

You blink. 

“You…what?” you breathe, shaking your head. “But, you’ve had tinder…you’ve gone on dates.”

Jackson pulls you close again, silently asking for more kisses. You realize he might’ve been right…you like when he begs. You kiss him as he asks, this time close to his nipple, and he shudders.

“I’m not gonna fuck a girl who wants more than I can give her,” he says. You mouth over his skin, tongue reaching the edge of his areola. You like his answer. 

“Why can’t you give her what she wants?” you ask, knowing what he’ll say but wanting to hear it all the same. Jackson knows this too, but he’s more than happy to give you what you want. 

“Because she—fuck—”

Your tongue lathes over his nipple and he grips the counter tight. 

“—’cause she’s not you,” he finishes. “None of them are. Can’t be anything for anyone except you. Wanna…wanna be everything to you.”

“You are…you are…” you mumble carelessly, barely kissing him, but rather rubbing your mouth on his chest. He seems more than okay with that, his head falling back, though he shakes it. 

“I’m not, baby. I’ve got so much to give you, gonna show you what it’s like to be loved right, fucked right, needed right. I need you, y/n. I-I fucking need you so bad. Always have.”

You were supposed to be turning him on, not getting choked up, but you pulled back and covered your face. Jackson was still a little breathless and out of it, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“Sorry, fuck, was that…was that bad? I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, wiping helplessly at tears that slide down your cheeks. Jackson pulls you forward, crushing you to his chest. He wraps both arms around you so tight you can barely breathe. You love it. 

What else do you love?

You love that you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh, that you can feel how much he wants from you. You swallow your tears and reach between you, your palm finding the thick outline beneath his boxers and squeezing. 

Jackson’s reaction is visceral and downright sinful. He jumps, then buries his face into your hair. 

“Again, p-please,” he mumbles. You do it again. There’s a weird mix between sadness and horniness between you, but you keep going, sliding your hand up and down his clothed length. He’s definitely thick and a little longer than average, but not frighteningly so. 

Thick enough to make you choke, but not enough to bruise your cervix. Perfect. Somehow, you think you know exactly what it feels like to be fucked by him. 

“Jesus fuck—I don’t care if I get to fuck you, just please…let me taste you, baby,” Jackson grunts, hips lazily bucking against you. 

That…sounds alright with you. You take your hand off his cock and grab his wrist to pull him to his room, but he twists you around so that your back is to the counter. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words die on your tongue when he drops to his knees. 

“J-Jackson, you don’t have t-to…”

“Shh, baby,” he mumbles, cupping the backs of your thighs. You feel dumb, forgetting how to speak. “Let me make you feel good. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you play with yourself.”

Your cheeks flush pink, Jackson’s words hardly registering in your brain. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your pajama shorts, leaning forward to kiss the front of your thigh before he begins tugging them down. 

“W-What do you mean when I pla—oh…”

Jackson doesn’t hesitate, going face first between your legs and groaning. The vibrations ring through your inner thighs and go straight to your clit, nearly sending you down. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet. 

“If you tell me you didn’t want me to hear you fucking yourself, I’m gonna call you a liar,” he whispers. His lips graze over the hair you keep trimmed—you could be a little self conscious about that at times, a couple past partners even commenting on it, but Jackson is worshipping your pussy without words and you’ve never felt so perfectly adequate. 

You think over what he said once you regain a little bit of consciousness. And fuck.

You were tired of this sort of hindsight ability you had now, the way you felt when you thought back to the times you were so obviously head over heels in love with him and had convinced yourself you were friends. 

Like fucking yourself with your favorite toy, back to the wall splitting your rooms. Moaning loud even though you didn’t do that when he wasn’t home.

“S-Sorry,” you whimper, because what the fuck else are you supposed to say? You feel warmth as Jackson breathes a laugh against your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin near your labia. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just do it again for me, hm? While I’m in the same room at least?”

Did he have to be such a fucking brat? You thought “pie” and his attitude would disappear after all of this, but you were sorely mistaken. You opened your mouth to complain.

Jackson pushed your thighs open wider, settling between them and looking up at you from his knees. You squeaked, and the last thing you saw before his face disappeared was that smug grin underneath his pretty brown eyes. 

You learned two lessons very quickly. One: 

Jackson Wang ate pussy like his life depended on it. 

And two, you were immediately jealous of any woman who’d ever had him like this, on his knees between their legs. This should be illegal. 

His tongue slid between your tender pussy lips, expertly finding your clit and daring to flick at it beneath the hood. Your knees did buckle, but he hugged your thighs and kept you upright, taking the opportunity to squeeze and knead at your ass. You reached down and gripped his hair for purchase, tugging, eliciting a groan from him that felt better than any dick you’d ever had. You did it again, and this time he practically sang praises into you—he was literally fucking you with his moans. 

“Jesus fuck, Jackson?” you ask, unable to do much else other than feel and squeak out your needs. His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs, though one hand slipped beneath your shirt. His thumb grazed over your nipple before gently pinching it, and you were ready to die. 

When he sucked the tender flesh of your clit into his mouth, you stumbled forward, nearly sending him back until he caught you by the waist. You whimper and tug at him to let you go until finally, he pulls away from your cunt, looking far too pleased with shiny lips. He licks them and you fall into his lap, shuddering as you cling to him. 

“That bad, huh? Should I keep my day job?” He teases you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other hugs you tighter. You can still feel his cock straining against his boxers, nearly perfectly aligned as it presses against your ass. 

“S-Shut up, a-asshole,” you stammer out, gripping his shoulders tightly for comfort—or maybe dear life. Jackson chuckles in a way that makes you feel safe and annoyed—because how can he send you to fucking space and then try to convince you it’s all good and dandy with the same mouth?

“You okay baby?” he asks softly. When you nod, he pulls back enough to kiss your temple, though keeps his lips there. You swallow, having a feeling that he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

“Was it good?” he asks.

“Very c-classy,” you manage to huff, but Jackson only laughs. 

“Mmm. Knew you’d taste good. Knew you’d love me on my knees,” he hums. You shiver, and he moves to your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Knew you’d look so pretty while I eat it.”

You let out a soft whine, your hips rolling into his. You’re spreading your sticky juices along his clothed cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he grabs your waist and bites his lower lip. 

“Are you done? Hm? Or can I take you to my room and finish you off?” Jackson asks, tilting his head to kiss below your ear. “Lay you down and hold you open until that pretty clit is nice and swollen…”

“F-Fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “N-No.”

“M’kay, need me to run you a bath then? I bought some new bath bombs—”

“No I meant…” you breathe, letting your head drop to his shoulder. You were dizzy, but your thoughts had never been more clear. Not necessarily a decision out of desperation, just…it needed to happen. You needed it. 

“I-I don’t want you to eat me out, Jackson,” you say as you swallow. 

You lift your head, relieved to see there’s no frustration in his gaze, no disappointment. God, he’s really just here to make sure you’re happy, safe, comfortable. 

“I want…I want you to fuck me.”

“Why are we in your room?”

“My bed is bigger.”

“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

“I don’t know, pie. When’s the last time you washed my sheets?”

You crinkle your nose, but Jackson just rolls his eyes. He drags you onto the bed with him, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it in your face. You sniff, your eyes immediately narrowing. 

“Have you seriously been washing your bedding regularly now under the implication that we’d fuck soon?” you hiss, sitting up to glare at him. He was sprawled out, looking much too happy for your liking.

“Yes,” he says gleefully. You grab the pillow and make an attempt to suffocate him, but he doesn’t fight back, and that’s not very fun. 

Oh yeah! You’re also only wearing his a t-shirt, and he’s only wearing boxers, and his cock is very hard and you’d very much like to put it in your mouth now that you’ve recovered somewhat from his tongue.

“You’re such a boy,” you groan, throwing the pillow back to the headboard. Jackson nods, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah. Take this off and sit on my face please,” he hums, lying back as though preparing to be sacrificed to the thigh smothering gods. 

“How romantic,” you scoff. 

“Come sit on my face so I can make you cry the only way a man should make a woman cry, please~”

“Better.”

With the back and forth out of the way, you can’t bring yourself to smile, pulling your knees to your chest. Jackson sits up, reaching out to take one of your hands in his large one. 

“Hey, no expectations, remember? You wanna stop right now, we’ll stop and never do anything like this again. You want me to finish you off, that’s fine too,” he says, thumb brushing the back of your knuckles. You shake your head. 

“No. I think…I think we should. We need to, I mean, otherwise we’re gonna be in limbo forever. But…” you pause, feeling your eyes burn a little damn it. When you look up at him, his boyish charm is gone, replaced completely by a concerned man who almost looks in love with you. 

“Hm? What is it, pie?” he asks, coaxing you gently. Ugh—why did sex have to be so god damn complicated?

“Promise me,” you say, biting your lower lip as you gather your words. “Promise me if we hate it, if it’s bad, just…stay with me? Like, forever? Please don’t move out? I mean if you have to get married just try to find someone who’s nice enough to let me stay? I’ll do the laundry. We can be like a throuple except you both just have to feed me and nothing else.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“Nevermind, let’s just do it.”

Jackson laughed as you flopped onto your back, though he leaned over you and caught your chin in his hand. You avoided looking at him, but he tilted your head down and pressed his forehead to yours to prevent you from escaping his eyes.

“I know you’re allergic to that word—”

“I am not—”

“But I love you. I love y/n and I love pie and I love the girl who thinks ‘coinkydink’ is an appropriate alternative for ‘coincidence’—”

“It is but okay—”

Jackson rolls his eyes, cupping your cheek under the romantic guise of making you shut up by pressing his thumb to your lips. 

“Do you know why I want to fuck you?” he asks, his voice oddly gentle for such an erotic question. You blink, he lifts his thumb. 

“Um, ‘cause I’m hot?” you offer with a shrug. His thumb goes back to your lips. 

“Yes, but the truth? I want to make love to you but I assumed your reaction to that phrasing would be…”

Jackson lifts his thumb. 

“Cringe?” 

“Correct,” he smiles. “I’m gonna do what I can so the next man you meet has to climb to fucking heaven to reach the lowest bar for you. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’ll be damned if you leave my bed able to call your best friend and complain that your inner thigh got more action than you did.”

You pout and push his hand away. 

“That was one time,” you mumble. “If sex with you sucks, who am I gonna call? Yugyeom?”

“I dare you to fucking try,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. You beam, attempting to boop his nose, but he leans forward and kisses you instead. “If you leave this bed and hate me after, I’ll move out before sunset. And if you want me to l-o-v-e you for the rest of your life, I’ll do that too. I told you, pie. I’m yours.”

You kiss him this time, turning into him and cupping his jaw. Why couldn’t he see that the more of this he showed you, the less you wanted to risk it all disappearing? 

You tilt your head to the side, nuzzling your face against his throat to plant kisses there. He inhales, leg sliding between yours as a hand strokes your hair. 

“Mm…what do you want, y/n?” he asks, groaning when you suck beneath his jaw. 

“Wanna suck you off,” you mumble against his skin, relishing in the heavy groan you feel from him. “Then I want you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” Jackson nods, licking his lips. You release him and sit up, looking over his stretched out form. He was so fucking gorgeous, and you were in his bed.

You place a hand in the center of his chest, and Jackson sits up on his elbows, his thighs parting eagerly. You giggle, gently kneeing his side. 

“Patience,” you hum, dragging your hand down to his abs, letting your fingertips dip between the muscles. You remembered all those times you fantasized about drawing your tongue against them—realizing you can. So you throw a leg over his, sliding down until you’re hovering over his thighs, face level with his hips. 

One hand rests on the elastic of his boxers while the other palms his abs. You look up at him as you drag your finger through the lines, following the shape of his muscles. He’s tense, but still coherent, so your other hand slides down to palm him again. 

Jackson curses under his breath, eyes never leaving yours. So you lean down and flatten your tongue below his navel. He gasps as you lick down the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his boxers, kissing the sensitive skin there before moving up again. Jackson whines, and you lift a brow. 

“You’re not being very patient,” you say, kissing his stomach before licking up to his chest. Jackson’s head falls back, one hand moving to your hair. 

“It’s been almost a year, pie,” he groans. “Want this…want you…”

You giggle softly. When you palm him again, curling your fingers around his constricted length, Jackson practically flies off the bed, grabbing your wrist. 

“Baby, I will let you suck my cock until the sun explodes, just…please not now, I’m so fucking close, wanna be inside you…” he breathes. You’re surprised to see his chest flushed and heaving, not having realized how worked up he was over just a few light touches. You swallow and nod.

He smiles in relief, pulling you in for a kiss before sitting up on his knees, gently guiding you back. It’s a little jarring, suddenly being underneath your best friend, but Jackson immediately gives you gentle kisses, whispering your name and promises to make you feel good. You believe him. 

You lie there awkwardly as he reaches over you to the bedside table, removing a foil packet. You feel your cheeks redden, which makes him chuckle, and you mumble a quiet shut up. When he holds the condom packet between his teeth and thumbs the waist of his boxers, you realize that you should probably be naked, too. So you cross your arms over the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side. 

The condom drops and bounces off your thigh as Jackson’s lips part in shock.

“What?” you mumble shyly, bringing your arms to your chest. He clears his throat and fumbles for the condom, shaking his head. 

“Nothing. You’re gorgeous. Knew you were, just..." he sucks in air through his teeth.

You blush harder, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry. 

Jackson manages to slide his boxers down to his thighs. His cock, once freed, smacks his toned stomach and you grip the covers at your sides as you watch an enticing bead of precum slide down the shaft. It’s exactly as you’d imagined; a little bigger than average, thick, and so beautifully veiny. God it’d feel so good on your tongue, but later. The idea that, hopefully in the future you could suck his beautiful cock whenever you wanted to, made you happier than you’d ever admit to anyone.

You watch as he rolls the condom down his length, swallowing down your doubts as he drops to his forearms on either side of you. 

“You okay?” he asks, no humor, no teasing, just genuine concern. You nod and lick your lips. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you say with a shaky breath. Jackson smiles, leaning forward until your noses bump. The action makes you giggle until you realize he’s fitting your mouths together, and suddenly he’s kissing you. 

It’s gentle and soft, his lips sucking at your lower one but moving no further than that. Your arms move to loosely hang around his shoulders, where both of his slip beneath you. You feel the head of his cock brush over your clit and jump. Jackson chuckles. It happens again, but this time, the swollen head catches against the opening between your folds, and you can already feel the stretch, wriggling your hips as if to wedge him in. 

Jackson begins to push. 

The stretch is slow, heavy, delicious, both of you releasing sounds of relief with eyes rolling back into your skulls as though you’ve both spent four years pretending you don’t want this. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he squeezes you tight beneath him as he sinks deeper and deeper. At last, his hips meet yours, and Jackson Wang, your best friend, is balls deep inside of you. You squeeze your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sudden and intense sensations and emotions.

“Are you okay? Feels okay, baby?” he asks softly, clearly restraining himself. You nod, licking your lips. 

“Mhm. It’s good. So good,” you babble. Jackson chuckles, nodding as he kisses you again. It’s sweeter this time, moreso as he begins to slide out. The drag of his cock makes you shudder, and you clamp your thighs tight around his waist. 

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Lock me up inside you, baby. So fucking pretty.”

You purr in response, arching your back. Jackson takes this as a go ahead, pushing himself up to his palms as he begins to fuck you properly. 

You feel your mouth open in shock as he thrusts rhythmically, the switch between emptiness and fullness making your head spin. Every time his hips smack the backs of your thighs, another grunt escapes his mouth, and fuck if you couldn’t listen to that sound for the rest of your life. 

Jackson leans down and kisses you. This time, you make sure it’s not as sweet, sucking his tongue and letting him lick yours. You taste his groan as he bucks heavily, pausing to collect himself. Your legs hook around his waist, heel digging into his lower spine, making him moan. 

“F-Fuck baby, gonna make me come already,” he breathes, letting his head hang down. You smile, cupping his face and pulling him into you. 

“So sensitive,” you purr. Jackson huffs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” he hums, wincing at his own sharp thrust. “Maybe I should pull out and leave that gorgeous head to wonder what it’d be like.”

“You won’t,” you reply, calling his bluff. “If I begged you, I bet you’d go raw.”

Jackson surges forward, hands moving behind your knees as he folds you nearly in half. You choke on air and look up at him, wondering why the fuck you've forced yourself to wait for this.

“You don’t have to beg for shit. Don’t fucking tempt me, y/n.”

Your mouth opens at his tone, but he begins to fuck you harder, gripping your form against him as he gives you everything he has. Your whines turn into muffled cries as he tucks your face into his shoulder. 

“Shh…let’s not let the neighbors know I’m finally inside you baby…that’s it, quietly…take it for me, yeah?” he hums, and you whimper, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs bounce uselessly where he holds them in place, giving him room to be flush against your ass each time he bottoms out. 

“Can’t wait for you to let me lick this sweet little cunt until you cry,” he murmurs, leaning back to slip a hand between you. You jump when he immediately finds your clit, index and middle finger repeatedly alternating pressure. He’s a god damned expert, and you feel yourself clenching tight around the obstruction of his cock. 

“Fuck…is that all it takes? You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice, y/n," Jackson groans. “More, baby. That’s it…fuck. So fucking good.”

“J-Jackson,” you huff, squirming beneath the pressure of his weight. “Nng…f-feels so good…”

“Yeah, princess? Just like you've dreamed about?"

Fuck. He always knew, knew you too well, were you made of glass?

"Y-yeah," you whimper, choosing not to lie. "B-Better."

Jackson kisses you again, his hand slowing its movements to match his hips. 

“Show me,” he says roughly, obviously close himself. “I wanna feel you cum, baby. Want my cock shiny and sticky like my tongue was.”

“Mm..don’t stop, ‘m close,” you breathe. You tuck your hands into his hair, tugging at the strands, knowing what kind of response you’d experience. He groans, as expected, though pulls back and pushes your thighs apart. 

He looks down at your cunt swallowing his cock whole as he rubs at your hooded clit, cursing and biting his lip. Your cheeks flush despite everything, and when his eyes flicker to your face—you’re not sure what to call that expression if not love. 

You want him to cum first. You bring his hand away from your clit and up to your lips, kissing the wet pads of his fingers before slipping them into your mouth. Jackson lets out a high pitched noise that you can’t wait to tease him over later as he watches you suck them. 

He swallows and leans forwards, pulling your fingers away from your mouth to kiss you. You think it’s an accident, the intimacy, but the kiss is soft, so soft that he stops thrusting and you stop trying to make him cum, so soft that you’re suddenly crying and hugging him and apologizing for being a fucking idiot. 

“Hey, ‘s okay baby, I’m here,” he whispers, his own eyes wet. “Stop crying, y/n. I’m right here. I’m yours. I’ll still be yours tomorrow. Shh...”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you breathe, burying your head against his throat despite the fact that his cock is kissing the opening of your cervix currently. “I was scared, Jackson, so fucking scared, I-I think I loved you so much that I scared myself into thinking I couldn’t.”

“Huh?” he asks, knowing damn well what you said according to the stupid grin on his face. You roll your eyes, using the back of your hand to wipe at your tears. 

“I said I love you, asshole,” you whisper, sniffling. “And ‘m not gonna say it again.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, pulling your hands down to wipe your tears himself. “Fine. I’ll just memorize the way you sound when you say it and play it over and over until we live in a nursing home together."

"You roll your eyes, smiling through the teariness. Only you would cry in the middle of sex, but Jackson seemed to love this, taking it as your not-so-silent confession. 

He eventually shifts again, making you shudder despite the fact that he was only getting comfortable. He prepares to ask—you already know—want me to stop? So you shake your head before he gets the words out. 

“I want it, you know, without,” you say instead, shyly looking up at him from your elbows. Jackson looks a little confused, and you sigh, gesturing around as if that’s helpful at all. “You know. Without.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, pie—”

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me, and then I want you to tell me you love me so I can say it back without dying, and then I want to go to the pharmacy with you and get plan b even though I’m on birth control because we’d make cute babies but I wanna wait like 10 years probably. So, like, without? If you want?”

You finish your monologue, your cheeks burning hot. You flop to your back and cover your face, once again forgetting about the cock buried inside of you. Jackson doesn’t, of course.

“Are you asking me to hit it raw—”

“Must you be so unromantic—”

“Shut up and c’mere,” he mumbles. He leans down, pulling you up enough to kiss you. You feel him shuffling between you, embarrassed by the gasp that slips out when he pulls back. Jackson smirks. There’s a snap of rubber and he winces as he removes the condom, tossing it into his desk trash can. 

“Easy, baby. He’ll be back,” he chuckles. 

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you groan. But then he’s pushing into you again, and fuck if the look on his face doesn’t make you want to buy a first class ticket to hell. 

“Fucking…jesus…baby…” he gasps. You giggle, though he just pushes you back to hide the apparent blush on his cheeks. 

“That bad huh?” you mock him, feeling him bottom out, completely. He curses and dips his head to kiss you, but it’s messy and desperate and feeds the fire that’s been burning inside of you for too long. 

“So fucking…nng…so fucking pretty,” he says with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasp, clinging to his shoulders as he leans down. He kisses you again, hard, palms flattening on the bed on either side of your hips. He uses the leverage to fuck you harder, leaning over you until you’re pinned beneath him. 

“D-Didn’t know it’d turn you into an animal,” you giggle breathlessly, hand fisting his hair. He groans and tilts his head to the side. 

“You turn me into a fucking animal, baby,” Jackson grunts. “Makes me…makes me want to do stupid things, like fuck you without a condom and cum so deep the pill doesn’t do shit to stop it—”

“Jackson—”

“You said it first. Still gonna make you swallow the pill with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You squeak and tug him down for a filthy kiss, tongues barely missing the mark as his thrusts become loose and sloppy. He’s fucking himself dumb, gripping the sheets and whining against your mouth like a dog. 

“G-Gotta make you cum. Gotta make it good for you,” he breathes, reaching between you. You pull his hand away, shaking your head. He begins to argue but you squeeze your thighs around his waist, making him shudder and stumble. He falls against you, cursing into your hair as he continues his thrusts. 

“Want you to cum first,” you whisper, hugging him tight. “Want you to fill me up like you said, so fucking deep—"

He groans, leaning on you and thrusting heavy as he snaps his hips forward. His speed remains the same, but you can hear the sound of his hips meeting your ass like he's trying to bury himself in you indefinitely.

"T-That's...fuck..." you whimper, nodding. "Good, that's good."

“Ah…ah…” Jackson whines, shaking his head. “F-Fuck, baby…gonna cum, is that…is that okay? Fucking…ah…c-can I cum?”

Oh. Oh.

You were going to explore this later, him asking permission to cum. But not now. 

“Please, Jax. Please cum for me, in me?” you beg softly. “Promise, I’ll take it so good."

“Fuck, I know you will, princess. Know you’ll take it all so good for me…so perfect, so fucking beautiful…all mine, baby…”

Jackson clings to you so tight you have trouble breathing, but you feel him shudder, hear him gasp, and you squeeze him back just as much. He releases a sob into your hair, his muscles tensing as he cums hard. You feel his cock pulsing, the warmth spreading inside of you, and realize with a start that you’re feeling his actual cum seeping into your womb. 

You rub his back for a few minutes while he recovers, until he finally sits up and hisses at the sensitivity of his softening cock still buried in you. When he tugs away, it’s your turn to gasp, shivering at the cool emptiness you feel. 

“Was that okay?” he asks quietly, hands pushing your thighs apart. You nod. 

“Yeah, ‘s good. What are you—shit.”

Jackson knelt between your legs, lips first kissing your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. You all but scream, trying to clamp your legs together, but his easy strength prevents that. 

“F…Jackson...fuck, w-what are you doing?” you whimper again, trying to push yourself up to look at him. He uses a hand on the soft of your belly, pushing you back down. He pops off of your clit, free hand taking over the strokes. 

“My babygirl didn’t cum. I’m gonna make sure she does,” he explains as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“B-But you…your cum…”

“Mhm, keep reminding me,” he moans, tongue slipping beneath the hood of your clit while two long fingers prod at your sore hole. You wince, but he slowly eases them in, his own cum working as lube. Rather than move them, he holds them there, gently stroking inside of your walls while he laps freely between your labia. 

In a frighteningly short amount of time, you’re coming off the bed (literally) with a cry of surprise, mumbling his name over and over again as though he could save you from the crushing pleasure you felt. Your thighs clamped around his head, though he made no move to escape, apparently right where he wanted to be as it allowed him to continue sucking and licking the sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs trembled violently. 

It stole your breath, and you saw stars, mixed in a few moments later with a boyish grin and someone peppering your face with kisses. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, definitely if you were comparing him to other men. Well. There was no comparison. 

You could only imagine how it'd feel with his cock as deep as it was. Next time. You'd suck his cock, cum on it...maybe make him beg to do the same.

Jackson is patient enough to wait until you’ve mostly returned to your body before he smugly proclaims that he was right, the sex was great, and you owe him a backrub (don’t you usually have to make bets to win them in the first place?) but whatever, because you were fucked out and your boy was happy and probably planning your wedding. 

But once you attempted to sit up, wincing at the soreness of keeping your legs open, Jackson kissed you sweetly and urged you to lie down again. He left for a few minutes, returning with boxers (darn it) and a bottle of water, which he forced you to sip whilst he ran you a bath. 

You were helped down the hall, feeling like a frail old lady after you insisted you could do it—and had to catch yourself by the doorframe as you walked like a baby deer. You informed him it wasn’t polite to laugh at people you’ve nearly fucked to death, regretting your words immediately as a somehow cocky Jackson became even cockier. 

He guided you into the bath, telling you to relax while he ran to the pharmacy. Before he left though, he knelt beside the tub, fingers tapping at the lava-like water you were soaking in.

“Do you like the smell?” he asks, resting his chin on his fist. You nod, letting your fingers find his and trying to pull them beneath the water. He compromised by pulling yours out, kissing the back of your knuckles. “Good. It’s strawberry scented.”

“Fucking me doesn’t make my bath bombs free real estate,” you say pointedly.

“Fucking me doesn’t make my clothes free real estate.”

You open your mouth, then purse your lips. 

“Touche.”

“I have something to ask,” he sighs, resting his lips on your hand. “It’s really important.”

Oh god. What. 

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice shaky. Jackson grins. 

“Just…did you like my cream, pie?”

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating the last hour and four years of your life. “I want a divorce.”

“I love you.”

“How…how long have you thought of that joke?” you ask. You didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Um…about 20 seconds after I called you pie for the first time? Not with you of course.”

“Well why in the god damn hell not with me!?”

“I mean? Yes with you?”

“Creep.”

“I love you.”

“I still want a divorce.”

“I still love you.”

“Nng.”

“That means I love you in worm?”

“...Yeah.”

“Heh~”

“Hey Jackson?”

“Mm?”

“Your lil sperms might be kinda fast? So like? Maybe leave now? I do love you but I will not have your babies right now?”

“Oh. Yeah. Be right back. Try not to make a baby with those in the meantime, they’re not ripe yet, you know?”

"...Hurry."

[consume-cs]

free fall (03) ◯○ you call him husband

I rarely pray but I just pray that you’re well | 385 | 🏷️ got7 content | materialist

english isn’t my first language. ot7 scenario. non idol — soft, cute ﷼

lim jaebeom

You’re hanging out with some friends and since the night started, a girl you don’t know is talking too much with your boyfriend. At first, you didn’t mind because it seemed like a normal conversation until you notice her intentions.

“So, you’re single, right?” She assumes, getting closer to him as he tries to tell her no but you just interrupt the conversation.

“He’s actually my husband” You say, holding his hand and smiling nicely to her.

Luckily, the girl apologized immediately and decides to leave you two. You sigh without seeing the smile on Jaebeom’s face.

“You call me husband and you’re jealous too? You’re sexy, honey” He says, kissing your lips and trying to control himself because you’re in public.

mark tuan

Mark is playing in his computer and you want his attention so bad that you decide to call him your husband to see if that works.

“Husband, I’m sleepy” You say getting closer to him at the same time he takes off his earphones.

“What did you say?” He asks moving to your direction and having you between his legs. You act like you don’t know, noticing how it actually works.

“I’m sleepy?”

“No” He grabs your waist and pulls you in his lap. “You know what you said, beautiful”

“Husband?” You look at him seeing his cute smile, noticing how much he likes it.

jackson wang

You’re shopping some gifts to his family since you’re going to visit them in a few days, so you gave him the idea of going to a jewelry store.

He’s watching a couple of necklaces for his mother until something catch your attention. It’s a beautiful necklaces with pink diamonds on the middle and little crystals around its edges.

“Husband, Can you buy me this?” You ask softly since you notice that you called him husband without knowing.

Jackson turns around, focusing on you and walking towards you with a smile.

“So, I’m your husband now, huh?” He says, looking at your red cheeks. “Do it more often, I like it”.

Then, he tells the salesperson to give him the necklace you want.

park jinyoung

You’re watching a movie together and you’re cuddling in the couch with some blankets around. Recently, you saw a video on TikTok where it shows the reaction of her boyfriend calling him husband, so you want to try that with Jinyoung.

“Can you pass me the smoothie, husband?” You ask, pointing the smoothie in the table.

He just take the drink before actually noticing what he heard. “Wait…” He says looking at you with a smile.

“What?” You reply, trying to control the smile that wants to come out.

“That actually sounds good, say that again” He gets closer and kiss your lips, begging you to say that again.

choi youngjae

“Husband!”

A few seconds pass and Youngjae appears at the door of your room with a cute smile. “It’s me, right?” He says excitedly.

“Can you help me with the dress, husband?” You ask, using that word again which makes him flusters.

He walks towards you and hugs you from behind, kissing your cheek.

“So my wife wants me to help her?” He continues, looking at your smile.

“Yes…” You whisper and then you feel Youngjae’s hand around your waist, helping you with your dress.

bambam

You’re going home after a long day of being at his parents’ house. He parks the car in the garage and turns off the car, so he gets out and walks around towards your door.

“Husband, Can you carry me please?” You say softly, feeling a little bit tired to walk.

You hear his laugh, noticing how much he likes it and then he takes you in his arms with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“I need to hear that more often so maybe I can propose soon” He says, making you scream with excitement.

kim yugyeom

You take your phone recording and put it in the shelf, your boyfriend is sleeping quietly with the blankets wrapped around his bare chest.

You want to see how he reacts of you calling him your husband.

“Husband, husband, babe” You call, touching his face to wake him up.

It takes minutes to wake him up and right after that you see his smile coming out.

“I’m your husband, right?” He says excitedly, pulling you in his arms, making you laugh.

xoxo girl💋…

© consume_cs

[csprint]

saw your ateez hc about eating you out so what about how got7 eating you out?! 🫣

Mark:

With one hand pinning your arms and the other gently rubbing your clit. Mark goes slow and makes sure you’re experiencing maximum pleasure.

Jay B:

From the back, with his right hand holding you down so you can’t push him away, and his left slapping your ass if you even try.

Jackson:

Messy. Incredibly messy. For him, he’s not properly eating pussy unless half his face is completely drenched in your wetness. Definitely the type to slurp that bitch.

Jinyoung:

Jinyoung never half-asses anything, which is why he eats pussy until he sees tears welling in your eyes. He isn’t satisfied and he isn’t stopping until he’s made you cum at least three times.

Youngjae:

With his ass in the air, sucking on your clit while holding your hand, intertwining your fingers. He likes to stuff your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, since this man’s tongue is sent from heaven.

Bambam:

Sixty-nine king. There’s something that drives him crazy about being able to eat you out while your mouth is full of his cock at the same time. Either you’re sitting on his face or lying side to side, it doesn’t matter. As long as he gets to lap his favorite pussy.

Yugyeom:

Gyeomie eats pussy like it’s his last meal. He always wants you sitting on his face so he has absolute full access. Don’t even think about getting up either. This man will hold you down and eat you out until his last breath. After all, who needs air anyways?

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as supermarket cashiers:

jaebeom: glares at the customers if they distract him while working. is never at the checkout counter cause he has to do the manager's job as well

mark: works at his own pace and time. give discounts to customers if they have a cute pet

jackson: knows the names of all the regular customers. WILL nag them to take better care of themselves

jinyoung: gets pocket money from all the aunties and grandmothers that come to the store. rub's that in everyone's face.

youngjae: has headphones in his ears 24/7. gets nervous when he has to check out a long line

bambam: 'borrows' gum and makeup samples from the store. leaves the cash register open to bother yugyeom

yugyeom: cries once a week when customers (or jinyoung) yell at him for being slow

[dimiicons]

★ got7 icons

créditos ou reblogue se salvar! icons 120x120 por @ifdimpeul ★

[astroyongie]

https://www.tumblr.com/astroyongie/774209983124504576/hii-can-you-do-xikers-mtl-to-be-jealous-and

Can you please do Got7 version?

MTL Got7 To Be Jealous

Jinyoung

Bambam

Jackson

Youngjae

Mark

Jaebum

Yugyeom

MTL Got7 To Be Possessive

Youngjae

Jackson

Jinyoung

Bambam

Mark

Jaebum

Yugyeom

[moonlightdreamzz]

New Beginnings Amid Uncertainty ✰ A Reading on GOT7’s Comeback

Disclaimer ✰ Tarot readings are for entertainment and insight, not definitive predictions. When reading about public figures or celebrities, remember that these insights are based on energy and perception, not facts. Always take it with a pinch of fun and curiosity!

How do the members feels about their upcoming comeback?

Ace of Pentacles + The Moon, 9 of Swords, The Fool, 6 of Pentacles, and 10 of Swords.

If I’m being honest, I was surprised by this pull at first because GOT7 has such a strong fan base, and I don’t doubt their comeback will be successful. However, for the members, while they see this as a golden opportunity and a chance for a prosperous new beginning, there’s also a lot of fear.

Something about this comeback—whether it’s the music itself or the circumstances surrounding it—feels like a HUGE risk. I don’t think they regret taking it, though. It feels worth it, and they wouldn’t have done it any other way. Still, the nervousness is clear. The Moon suggests uncertainty and confusion, as if things aren’t fully clear yet regarding how this comeback will be received.

To me, this means that GOT7 knows their comeback has the potential to be successful, but they’re unsure if it will play out the way they hope.

I also feel—especially with the 6 of Pentacles—that this comeback isn’t about money for them. It feels like a gift to their fans, coming from a place of pure love. I wouldn’t be surprised if they funded much of this themselves. That energy is strong here, and it seems like another reason they’re feeling anxious. They’ve put so much heart into this, and they’re overthinking how fans will respond.

This really feels like a passion project, and being in their energy is so sweet. It reminds me of the feeling you get when you’ve spent so much time and effort picking the perfect gift for someone. You know how much thought and care you’ve put into it, but there’s still that little voice asking: What if they don’t like it? What if you misinterpreted what they wanted?

Will their comeback be successful?

100%. We will see how it plays out, but I think this comeback will be a love song? King of Cups energy makes me feel like a lot of romantic vibes will be all over the single and the album. The King of Cups can also indicate a specific member having a lot of input into the lyrics? I know Yugyeom is a Scorpio, so maybe it’s him? He also could be someone who catches a lot of positive attention during this comeback. I think they put their all into this creative wise, and I think the success of this comeback is going to light a fire in their ass to do another one.

The Two of Pentacles being present tells me that there may be a lot to balance with it? Maybe some members will be juggling multiple schedules at once? Or the schedules themselves may get a bit overwhelming at times, but with Temperance being here I’m confident everything will be okay. They’ll figure out their balance and I also think this comeback is going to make all of them shine in their own unique way.

The Ace of Swords brings clarity, breakthrough, and success through focused effort. It suggests that the group has a clear vision for this comeback and that their hard work and determination will pay off.

The 3 of Cups being the overall energy, tells me that while their comeback won’t be everybodies cup of tea per say, the people they made it for (their fans) are going to enjoy every bit of it, and they’re gonna be right there with them. I really feel heavily in my spirit that this is a gift to their fans and to themselves. I feel a sense of pride and closeness between the members. I literally can see them and their fans just having their own party in the corner that not everybody understands, but they understand, and that is the whole reason for the comeback period.

They are not gonna care about what any hating ass person has to say. They just want their fans to love it as much as they do.

[be4utifulveins]

Hi, I’m drinking right now and I miss got7.🥺

[spacequokka]

BB.one

Prompt: “I almost lost you.”

BamBam asked you to help take down the Christmas decorations on his mom’s house, promising a burger, fries, and a milkshake for your troubles. Who says no to free food?

Things were going well until you got to the lights. Though you were wary about getting on the roof with him at first, you’d quickly swallowed your fear for your bestie. But then you lost your footing and slipped. Unable to catch yourself, you toppled over and fell two stories.

Darkness. Faint sirens.

You woke up in the emergency room with him at your side, red nose and puffy eyes. His fingers were a blur of motion over his phone. A sniffle.

“Bammie?”

He nearly dropped his phone to get to you. The gentle way his hands took one of yours was so unlike him, but not unwelcome. Soft BamBam is your favorite BamBam.

“Hey, beautiful.” He forced himself to smile. “I almost lost you.”

You frown, feeling the stiffness in your neck and legs. “What?”

He brings your knuckles to his lips. “Do you remember falling?”

“Barely.”

“You, um, you’ve been out for nearly ten hours. You may not feel anything because of the morphine, but you also broke your leg.” He smiled weakly. “And to say I’m so fucking sorry about this, how about free burgers and shakes for life?”

[markie-baby]

If You Love Me | pt.1

🌹Angst/Fluff/Smut (18+ MA) 🌹Part II 🌹Black Female Reader x Mark Tuan 🌹shower sex 🌹Your boyfriend Mark has been away on his first solo tour for his album, The Other Side. You haven't seen him in months and something is...off. Now that he's back home, there are a few things you need to get off your chest.

You stared intently at the last text messages your boyfriend sent you.

(7:00 pm) Markie-moo💜: I just landed😁

(7:05 pm) YAYYYY💕 can't wait to see youuuuuuu

(7:05 pm) you sure you don't need me to pick you up?

Read 7:09 pm.

(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I'm sure😊 I need to go by the studio real quick, then I'll be omw

(7:10 pm) Markie-moo💜: I can't wait to see you, beautiful🖤 I've missed you so much

(7:15 pm) Okay💕 Let me know when you're otw home... I've missed you more!

Read 8:30 pm.

You glanced up at the time on your screen...It's 11pm.

"Your father is very late." You sighed at Milo, who could only look up at you and tilt his head as if he understood the severity of you using the word 'Father' and not 'Daddy'.

The television screen shined through the tall bottle of red wine that sat on your living room table, which casted a shadow on an open bag of gummy bears. You already started snacking on them an hour into waiting for Mark to get to your apartment, and only just realized that you obliterated half the box already. You spent the past three days gearing up for Mark's arrival from his first album tour; aimlessly cleaning your place, cooking all of Mark's favorite foods, buying wine, and meticulously sprinkling rose petals all over the bedroom. You even got dressed up and wore that perfume he liked on you... only to find yourself feeling silly, scratching the belly of his furry baby, as your bones grew stiff waiting for him.

Regrettably, you couldn't deny that you weren't surprised he was a little late. The strongest part of your relationship with Mark was first and foremost, honesty. Mark hated lies and had never told you one himself. Which is why it was so obvious that he has been lying for the past few months. Badly. I was stuck at the studio and I lost track of time, being the most frequently used of the bunch. You'd find him speaking in a low tone for phone calls, rarely letting you use his phone or laptop, and getting absorbed into his phone screen. He started becoming distant... becoming someone completely different from the man you met. You started suspecting he was cheating.

You moved to LA six years ago to pursue owning a business and had no intentions of having a long-term relationship. Mark was a little timid towards you when you first met him through a mutual friend. He never said much outside of the realm of "Hi", "How are you", and "How are you doing?" But as you stuck around more and more, you couldn't help but be drawn to him. You felt connected talking to him about your aspirations, hopes, and fears, knowing that he was always there to listen and share some of those same feelings. It also helped that Mark was (and still is) the most beautiful man you've ever met in your life. Every time you met up with him, you found yourself drinking up all his features; from his pink, heart-shaped lips that opened to a breath-taking smile, to his deep, dark, entrancing eyes. The last time you got lost in Mark's eyes as his best friend, was when your business hit an all-time low.

~

"I just don't know, Mark..." you sobbed through clogged sinuses. "I don't think I can't still support myself if my business can't make more sales."

Mark was only inches away from you on your couch as you cried into your fetal position.

"Hey, hey..." Mark gently placed his warm hands on your shoulders. "Don't think like that. You've done amazing so far... There has to be something else you can do to get your sales up."

"Well..." You poked your head out briefly. "I could do more marketing... but I already spent so much money on marketing and-"

The tears started reforming in your sore eyes as you hid your head back into your knees. Silence hung in the air like a bad joke as the idea of complete failure circled in your head... You would have to leave the life you worked so hard to build in LA, only to return home to square one, with your tail between your legs. You weren't ready to leave your hard work, your home, your friends, or Mark...

"Y/N..." You felt Mark leaning closer to you with a rasp in his voice. "Look at me."

You reluctantly looked into the eyes of your friend, and suddenly, all the anxiety and fear that you felt only seconds ago, felt like forgotten emotions. His eyes seem to pull you into their calming, deep brown pools.

"Ever since I met you, I have seen you fight and work hard for this. I've admired your passion, and how dedicated you are to your dreams... It's one of my favorite things about you. You can't give up on this now. Not after you worked this hard. Not after you've built this life for yourself all on your own... Not to mention how hard it would be to say goodbye to you if you leave."

"Mark..." You felt your heartbeat in your throat.

"I care about you... and I hate seeing you struggling like this. If you need help, why didn't you ask me?"

"I just didn't want to inconvenience you... I know you've been busy in the studio and doing photoshoots I-... just figured that could do this on my own. Like I've always done everything on my own."

Mark's eyes trailed yours, slowly inching to your nose then your lips...

"You don't have to do this alone." You felt Mark snake his long fingers in between yours. "I'll be there for you... like always."

The bubble developing in your throat was an indication that the waterworks were rising again. Up to this point, Mark has been the most supportive, honest, sweetest, considerate, and the most chill person in your life. He's always been there to listen to whatever you had to tell him; what you see each other doing in the next few years, or a late-night drunken rant about pineapples on pizza. And whenever Mark called, you would drop everything just to hear how his day was. Whenever you hung out with him, you could be alone or in a group of other people, it was like it was just you two. Your soul mate...

You looked into Mark's eyes again, feeling your heart start to race... in your trance, your eyes wandered across his face, admiring how the low glow of the Livingroom television showed his soft textured skin. How his hair was poofy since he raced over to you from his nap. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve someone this amazing and supportive to be in your court. But Mark was just your cute little blessing on top of all the other ones. Overcome with emotion, you crash into Mark's arms and held him tight.

"Thank you so much, Mark. For everything." Your stress left your body in a big sigh. "I love you..."

You felt Mark's arms around your waist slowly pull you closer to his body and his face buried into the crook of your neck.

"I love you more..."

You replayed his response in your head as you held on to him.

"I love you more" Thump.

"I love you more" Thump-Thump.

"I love you more" Thump. Thump-Thump-Thump. Thump.

Your heart started to race. Goosebumps raised when Mark's breath lightly brushed your neck, and you felt his strong heartbeat thump against your chest. What was this feeling? You were scared to pull away, frightened of getting lost in his gaze again.

"Um, right s-so..." You cleared your throat. "Thanks again, Markie."

You tried pulling away... but found that Mark's grip was still tight around you.

"Wait..." He spoke in a low tone that made your spine shiver.

Your heart felt like it was going to climb out of your mouth. Of course, you've been this close to Mark plenty of times before, you guys have practically held hands before. But there has never been this type of tension hanging in the air. It was almost suffocating. You looked into Mark's eyes for some sort of sign... but damn, he was looking so gorgeous. Your eyes traced his whole face; every curve of his pink lips, every line in his jaw & every eyelash sitting upon his beautiful eyes. Oh, his eyes... they seemed to sparkle... and they were intently fixed on your mouth. Instinctively, your hands made their way up to his jawline, which produced a small sigh from Mark's parted lips.

He was slowly closing the space between your faces. The heat started to rise in between your ears, as you battled with the thought of kissing your best friend. If you did, you could be either making the best decision of your life... or ruining a friendship with a man you cared for deeply. But you couldn't deny... you wanted him. With every heavy breath that Mark breathed, with every second his hands tightened around your thighs, with every inch that his lips drew closer to yours... your desire for him grew. The realization that you loved him grew.

"Mark-"

With the most genuine softness, Mark closed the painful gap between both pairs of lips. Both of your bodies were lost in each other... neither of you realized just how steamy your little make-out session got. You became a couple shortly after, with this year being your third year together.

~

With each passing day, you felt more frustrated in your conflicted feelings. On one side, you were upset at him... but more at yourself for letting the situation grow. On the other hand, you felt the yearning for him grow hot and restless in your core, and eventually, you couldn't help but touch yourself out of the thought of him. The way his dark, loose curls flop over his forehead, the sparkle in his eyes, the sincerity of his smile, the sweetest of his cologne, the slight curve of his lips, the softness of his skin, the heat of his breath-

You snap out of your trance when you hear the jingle of keys at the door. You tap your screen back to life. It's 11:55 pm.

"I'm home!" Mark poked his head through the door at beamed at you on the couch.

"Mark..." You couldn't help but sigh.

"Babe!" Mark cheesed the brightest smile you've ever seen as his chest collided with yours.

His arms tightly squeezed around your waist as you heard him drink in your scent. Finally, your boyfriend was home, with a bouquet as bright as his smile. Almost instinctively, your nerves weakened in his warm embrace, and you melted around him. You forgot about everything you were ever upset about. With every bone in your aching body, you wanted to hold him... feel his skin gently graze yours, caress his adorable face, and shower him in kisses... but he still broke his promise. The one person in your life who was always truthful, real, and loyal... wasn't anymore.

"I missed you so, so much..." Mark whispered into your ear.

"Mark..." You pulled away from him. "What took you so long..."

"I'm sorry," He sighed. "I got tied up again-"

"Mark I..." You paused. "I've spent all of the past 3 days preparing all this stuff for you. And I have been... trying so hard to be so excited for you to come home. For you be in my arms again, to kiss you, to make absolute love to you..."

"What?" Mark's eyes widened.

"We need to talk about something."

Mark's smile slowly started to fade and the bouquet slowly lowered from his grasp.

"You've broken the one promise that we've had in this relationship... you lied to me, Mark. And you've been doing it over and over... And I'd hope that our bond was strong enough for you to realize that I would notice that."

"Hey-"

Mark gently placed the bouquet on the kitchen counter and held both of your hands in his.

"Do you truly think I'm cheating on you?"

You looked longingly into his eyes, only to be handed a cold, serious gaze in return.

"No," You bit your lip in hesitation. "You wouldn't do something like that. But I don't know what to think, Mark."

Mark sighed deeply...

"I leave for months and come back to a fight..." He scratched the back of his head in frustration. "You said that the one promise we made in this relationship was honesty, but you broke another one too. You don't trust me to be loyal to you?"

"I do trust you! But what am I supposed to make of this, Mark?" Your eyes stung.

Mark's cold gaze softened. "I have never had the thought of ever cheating on you and would never. I'm sorry that I was distant and made you feel that I wasn't being truthful."

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it until now..."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I've been waiting for forever just to get back home to you." You felt his warm hands caress your waist. "Can I please kiss my beautiful girlfriend now?"

"Yes." You breathed.

Mark snaked his hands further around your waist, and with a passionate firmness, pursed his lips between yours. You felt your body tingle with warmth and your heart beating heavily against your boyfriend's chest. A groan left Mark's lips as he left yours.

"Hey..." Mark's voice turned raspy as he eyed your body. "You deserve my honesty; The real reason I have been distant is because I was putting a lot of energy into planning something really important."

"Planning something...?" Your head cocked to one side. "For your album?"

"No, for you."

"For me..?"

Mark's lips cut your question short and derailed your train of thought.

"It's a surprise for later." You could feel a smirk developing on your boyfriend's soft lips. "Let me enjoy the surprise you have for me first."

Mark gazed over at the romantic display you made in the living room.

"Do you like it? I hope I didn't go overboard..."

"It's perfect." Mark looked into your eyes with the utmost sincerity. "And you even got me my favorite gummy bears? It's everything I could have wanted. And you being here with me makes it all better."

Mark infused passion into every aspect of his life, and his way with words was no exception. Surprisingly, conveying his feelings verbally wasn't always his forte in our relationship. However, he consciously broke free from the habit of murmuring, trailing off, and avoiding eye contact. Despite not being the most talkative when we initially met, the incomprehensible extent to which Mark went out of his way to express how much I meant to him was truly remarkable.

"I'm so glad you're home." You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's torso and pulled him close.

"Me too." You felt a light peck on your forehead. "Why don't we get this night started?"

~

It was 2:45 am when the credits started to roll on the third horror movie that Mark insisted that you both watch. Unfortunately, he had been too invested to realize that you had fallen asleep since movie number two. You found the most heavenly spot on his chest to rest your head, and with his right arm snuggled gently around your torso and his left hand resting on your thigh, it was a guaranteed recipe for a great night's rest.

"The gore in that was something else-" Mark cut himself off when his eyes came to gaze on your sleeping figure.

Your face was adorably smushed up to Mark's chest, letting out soft breaths as you rested. All four of your limbs found themselves wrapped around his slim body, trapping him in your sloth-like embrace. Mark's eyes traveled and the bottom hem of your dress found itself dangerously hiked up to expose your smooth thighs.

Mark rubbed his hand against your thigh. "Wake up, babe."

You blinked your eyes awake and gazed upon the tired eyes of your boyfriend. "Oh shit, did I fall asleep?"

"Definitely. And I think you were snoring a bit, too." He joked.

"Oh stop." You rubbed your eyes to get a better view of the clock. "Oh shit, it's late..."

Mark's voice became hushed. "Maybe we should...continue this celebration upstairs?"

"You're ready for bed?"

"I am. But not necessarily sleep."

You smirked, picking up on his hint. "Oh, I see..."

Without saying another word, you took Mark's hand and guided him up the stairs, where you were greeted by the romantic glow of the moon.

"Oh..."

"You like it, right? I got rose petals, the candles are all lit..." You gestured towards the bathroom.

Mark pulled your hand back towards his body and planted a firm, hungry kiss on your lips.

"You are so sweet. This is amazing..." His warm hands caressed your cheeks. "How do I deserve someone as perfect as you?"

You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips. He was close, too close. The temptation to press your mouth to his was too much to handle. You could almost taste the mint of his toothpaste.

"I know I've been a little distant for these past few months." Mark started. "It's just... I've had a lot on my mind. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, but I didn't want to rush things."

"Yeah?"

"But now, I can't hold back." He cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb against it. You felt his gaze bore into yours, and he seemed to study every inch of your face.

"What is it, baby?" You pressed.

"I'm so in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts. I love how passionate you are, I love how you make me feel when we're together, and I love that you've been patient with me during this whole process. You're my rock. You make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of you."

"Mark, you already are." You gently held the sides of his face. "Don't say that. You are good enough, Mark. You have such a kind heart and a big soul. You're the most loving and caring person I know. Just don't get too caught up in your music, and start overworking yourself. You're not gonna find me there."

Mark let out a soft chuckle in response.

"You always know what to say," Mark breathed. "I need to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"I know that I was gone for a while, and I want to make it up to you. So, how would you feel about me taking you on a trip?"

"A trip?" You shot him a confused look. "Where would we go?"

"Oh, don't worry about that." Mark kissed the tip of your nose. "I'll take care of everything. Just be ready to leave for this weekend."

"Three days??" You giggled. "You really just planned a whole trip, huh?"

"Anything for you."

As Mark leaned in to kiss you again, you couldn't help but notice his scent. He smelled like the airport and the plane and everything else that was not his normal aroma.

"Speaking of jet setting, you smell weird," you chuckled.

"What do you mean?" he laughed back.

"I'm not sure, but you just smell different."

"Well, I should take a shower then," he suggested. "And maybe you can join me."

"Okay, but don't try any funny business." You smirked.

"What?" He feigned innocence.

"You heard me," you replied, wagging your finger at him.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he said, pulling you close.

"Wait and see, huh?" you repeated.

"Yeah, just wait and see."

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him, making your way toward the bathroom. As you walked into the bathroom, you could hear Mark following closely behind. You pulled him toward the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water filling the small room. The sound of unzipping made your head turn to Mark, who was already undressing. You watched on in perverted wonderment at how his abdominal muscles flexed under his perfect skin as he moved to remove his underwear. He glanced over his broad, muscular shoulders, smirking while keeping eye contact as he bent down. You admired how his hair grew poofy from the steam beginning to form around him.

"Enjoying the view?" Mark's husky voice startled you, causing your eyes to snap to his face.

"Shut up," you said as you joined him, sliding the flimsy slip of material you wore onto the floor.

Mark's eyes burned with need as his gaze traveled up your legs, slowly drinking in the image before him.

"Damn..." he breathed as he raked his teeth across his bottom lip, his dark eyes meeting yours.

You smiled coyly at him as you stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind you. Mark's eyes never left yours as he joined you in the warm spray of the water.

"Mmm," he hummed as he cupped your cheek and brought his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first but quickly turned passionate and needy. You ran your fingers through his damp curls as he pressed his hips into yours, his hardening length brushing against your stomach. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your bare flesh as the water cascaded around you. You moaned softly as his lips found your pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth.

"I love the sounds you make," he growled as he gently nipped the delicate skin.

"Hey, don't forget that you have to take a shower, stinky." You chuckled.

Mark grinned and rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle of shampoo that rested next to the tap.

"Okay, okay."

You watched in anticipation as he squirted some of the soap into his hand, before applying it to his hair. His eyes stayed fixated on yours, which flickered down briefly to take in his naked, glistening body. You couldn't help but admire his perfection, even when doing the most mundane task. How his pectorals flexed with every movement, as he brushed and lathered the soapy bubbles throughout his coils of dark brown hair. How his veins tightened from his arms to his hands, and how each drop of water seemingly dripped at a pace slow enough for you to memorize. Your gaze traced down from his chest to his abs, and even further down past the borderline of pubic hair where-

"Babe."

"Sorry, what?" Your eyes shifted back to his face.

"Were you paying attention?" Mark smugly raised an eyebrow.

"I was definitely paying attention..." You trailed off.

"So what was I saying?"

"You were saying, that I was being the best girlfriend ever!"

"Mm-hm."

"By making us dinner tonight."

"Mm-hm."

"And how your favorite gummy bears are an ample reward for me having to put up with you-"

"Alright," Mark chuckled as he laid his index finger on the seam of your lips. "Point made. You got me."

"Duh." You nipped at his knuckle. "You're so easy. What did you say, anyway?"

"Something..." Mark teased as he dunked his head back under the water, washing the remaining shampoo down his torso. "About how much I really, really, missed touching you. All of you."

You snorted. "You mean our little quickie at LAX before you left didn't cut it?"

"Is that what you call what happened at LAX?" He asked, pulling you close and pressing his arousal against you.

"Yes," you giggled. "Because that is exactly what we did. You were the one trying to miss your flight."

"I couldn't help it." He groaned. "It was just so hot."

"Oh shut up." You laughed.

You grabbed the bottle of body wash, poured some on your towel, and rubbed the soap into the cloth.

"Are you gonna help me or what?" You asked playfully.

"What do you think?" He replied, grabbing the other end of the towel and helping you rub the wet cloth along your body.

Your breath hitched as his hand moved from your ribs down to your hips and your mouth dropped open when you felt his fingertips graze your behind. You groaned loudly as Mark continued to caress your ass, his other hand sliding around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. You shuddered as he pressed his lips against your neck, murmuring words of love and encouragement in between every kiss.

"Why didn't you come with me on tour, again?" Mark asked as he continued massaging your skin.

"We talked about this, Mark," you replied, lightly rolling your eyes. "I wanted to be here and continue working. And I don't think I'm cut out for road life."

"But I wanted you there..." he pouted, making your heart stop. "I missed you like crazy."

"I missed you, too..." You turned to face him, seeing him still with an upset frown. You reached for his hands and gently ran your thumb over his knuckles.

"But I don't think I can spend another tour without my Markie-Poo," you admitted with a soft smile.

You looked up to see your boyfriend with the brightest grin you've seen him with in a long while. Mark immediately took the back of your head and pulled your face towards his in a loving embrace, getting soap all over his arms and torso...

"So you're telling me that the next tour I have, you're coming with me?"

" I promise."

"I could get used to having you near me every day," Mark whispered into your ear, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I'd hope so," You replied. "It would be pretty confusing to accommodate another presence in our bed, otherwise."

You could see a pout starting to form on your boyfriend's lips. You loved how Mark could make a face of indifference switch from a stone-cold wall into a begging, adorable, child. The pout quickly melted away, however, and you were only able to appreciate its short existence for a split second. His eyes shifted from your own to your neck, his pale and slender fingertips gliding gently against your exposed collarbone.

"Hey..." You whispered into his ear. "What are you thinking about?"

Mark didn't speak. Only paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he wanted to say, but only getting lost in your beauty. Your breath hitched. His eyes were focused on yours as he inched closer to you. He never broke your stare until his hand suddenly reached up and he placed it ever so carefully against your cheek, causing you to inhale deeply. His eyes flickered over your face, resting for a brief moment at your lips, then back up to meet yours once again. His hand traveled from your cheek and made its way down to your chin, tilting your head up slightly. His lips met yours, softly and gently. He didn't push or rush. He seemed to savor the moment, pulling away just enough to let out a small whimper.

"Did you just moan?" He asked.

"Mmmm, maybe," you replied teasingly.

"If we weren't in the shower right now..." he started.

"Then what would we be doing, Mark?" You asked, grinning at him.

"Then," he said, his low voice rumbling as his hand wrapped around your waist, gently moving his face close to yours. "I would be taking you against the glass."

Mark kissed your forehead tenderly and continued his gentle ministrations against your skin.

"We would start slow," he began. "My hands would travel all over you, starting at your hips. I'd go over them over and over until I could feel you shake."

You bit your lip as Mark's movements matched his words. You could feel your cheeks warm from the way he talked. He had never talked to you this way. Never with the confidence and sultry tone of voice. Mark was normally a gentle, passionate, yet quiet lover.

But this was different. It was sexy. You loved it.

A moan escaped from your lips, unable to suppress the shiver that ran throughout your entire body. The mere thought of having him inside you caused your muscles to twitch and spasm. Mark chuckled lightly as he leaned into you, his hands still exploring your curves. You loved it when he held you. His touch felt so warm and comforting. It made you feel safe and protected, but at the same time, you loved how strong his arms felt against your frame. He felt so large compared to your small size and it gave you the most pleasant butterflies.

"After that I would pick you up, your legs around my waist," he said softly, pulling back a bit to stare into your eyes. "And then, I'd drive you insane..."

He emphasized each word as if he were whispering them into your ear, and his words left you breathless and speechless. Mark's voice had a way of making you feel things you've never felt before.

"Sounds like you really want to have shower sex," you said with a slight giggle.

He kissed you passionately as his hands glided back to your ass once again, gripping you firmly as he slowly lifted you in the air. You wrapped your arms around his slender neck, and your legs around his waist. As your curves pressed against him, you could feel his excitement, causing your eyes to widen slightly. You hadn't even touched him yet, and he was extremely excited for you.

Mark placed one hand against the shower wall for support and you looked into his beautiful brown orbs once more.

"Have you been wanting me, like I have been needing you?" He asked in a low and husky voice that sent shivers through your body. You answered him by pressing your lips against his and kissing him passionately. After a few seconds, Mark moved his kisses across your neck and down to your collarbone. He sucked on it lightly, causing you to gasp as your nails dug into his shoulders. He let out a small groan, and you couldn't help but laugh slightly. The man was adorable.

For five agonizing minutes, he tortured you with his mouth, and slowly lifted you higher. Your heart started beating so fast, causing a mixture of nervousness and excitement that blended perfectly.

"Relax babe," Mark cooed.

You took a deep breath, the smile not leaving your face, and nodded at him.

Mark entered your slit slowly, his length engulfing your walls slowly. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes tight, letting yourself enjoy this feeling of being filled so completely by your boyfriend. He went deep, his entire length inside you now. He let himself stay there for a second, giving you time to get used to this new feeling. Then he pulled out a few inches before sliding back into you. He continued this process, slowly getting a rhythm, his thrusts growing in power. You moaned each time his length penetrated you.

"Yes..." you breathed and heard Mark moan in response.

He increased his pace even more, driving his length into you and then withdrawing completely with each thrust. Soon, the sounds of water splashing off your wet skin filled the room. Mark became a mess of grunts and pants every time he penetrated you, audibly teasing you toward your climax.

"Babe, you feel so-" A deep moan escaped your boyfriend's parted lips.

His breath was hot on your neck as he worked you towards your release, and it felt like electricity every time his skin touched yours. You had forgotten where you were, who you were, and what was going on around you, it was only you and Mark.

"Mark..." you moaned.

You couldn't hold off your orgasm any longer as waves of pleasure washed over your body. He continued his ministrations as you rode your high, and you watched him as you came down. You looked in awe at this beautiful specimen of a man standing before you as he held you in his arms. He just smiled at you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Then he exhaled and put you down, slumping against the cold tile wall. His wet hair dangled over his blushed face. You smiled and placed a hand against his cheek, stroking it gently as you gave him another kiss, he kissed you in return, and the soft brush of his lips lingered as you pulled away.

"I love you," he said, his gaze fixed on yours.

"I love you, too."

You say "You took the energy out of me."

Mark smiled and leaned back against the wall. "I guess you could say that," he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think you'll be able to get to the bedroom? Or do you need me to carry you?"

You slowly stood up, ceasing the sound of running water with your index finger. "Carry me, please!" You pouted and raised your arms.

Mark chuckled as he opened the shower door to retrieve your towels.

"Alright, alright, my queen," Mark threw your wet towel on your head, muffling your laugh. "I'll carry you to the bed."

You pushed the towel off of your face as Mark slipped his arms underneath your wet body and scooped you up into his arms.

"Mmm, you smell much better," you murmured as you nuzzled against his neck. Mark snorted and kissed the top of your head.

You were smitten by his scent and the way he handled you with such ease. He gently laid you on your bed, sinking in on top of you, like you had been daydreaming of for months.

"I've missed this," he whispered, "missed touching you, missed watching you sleep..." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face and gazed down at you like you were the only person in the world.

"I missed waking up next to you, seeing your face in the mornings, and hearing your voice at night."

He brought his lips to yours, softly and sweetly like he was afraid you would break. His lips tasted like the memories of stolen kisses in dark corners and glances behind closed doors. The more you tasted his lips, the more you craved, and you pressed into him, desperate for more.

"Baby, I've missed you so much," he mumbled against your lips, "and you don't understand how crazy it's been."

"No kidding," you replied, returning his kiss with equal vigor.

"Everywhere I went, fans were throwing themselves at me. All I could think about was you. All I'm ever gonna want is you."

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession. You pulled away to smile at him, taking in his beautiful face. It wasn't just his looks that captivated you; it was his mind and his heart. He was pure goodness through and through, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.

"And all I ever want is you," you replied. Mark cupped your face and stared into your eyes, his deep brown eyes pooling with emotion. "You okay, babe?"

"It's nothing...I just- I love you," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "so much."

You kissed him fiercely, overcome with emotion. "I love you a shit ton too."

Mark laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "Well, you better. You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"Good."

Mark smirked and moved his head down, trailing kisses across your stomach and past your navel.

"What are you doing down there? Aren't you tired?"

Mark looked up, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"It would be a waste not to take advantage of the candles and rose petals, don't you think?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

~

To Be Continued.

[multiphandomunnies]

got7

reactions

girlfriend hugging them in their sleep

deserted island au

high school au

gf is a demon

s.o is shy with skinship

s.o is self conscious

imagines

mark

jackson

thank you

bf! jackson

trying again

single dad au

jaebum

it’s not too late

get over here

not now (*M*)

carnation

bf! jaebum

christmas special

i want to do these things with you

jinyoung

youngjae

bambam

christmas special

yugyeom

bf! yugyeom

let’s go out

[tangerineastronaut]

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang (Part 1)

Part 2

The one where your best friend can't keep his secret anymore (and you're oblivious).

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee. 

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 

The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

Part 2 is out now!

[consume-cs]

free fall (03) ◯○ when you’re drunk

everything is blue, his hair… | ROLE MODEL | 🗝️ got7 content | materialist

english isn’t my first language. ot7 scenario. non idol — you just drunk ﷼

lim jaebeom

You’re at the restaurant having a girl’s dinner and you’ve drank a couple glasses of wine since you arrived, without noticing how drunk you are.

Since you’re dizzy, one of your friends called Jaebeom to pick you up. Then, your boyfriend appears, grabbing your bag and taking you out of the restaurant.

“Babyyy” You say lovingly while you try to walk on your high heels.

Jaebeom decides to carry you in his arms as a princess since you can’t even walk properly. “Why do you wear these high heels knowing that your feet’s are hurting?” He complains looking at you.

You just smile, kissing his lips quickly. “Because I look pretty” He smiles and continue his way to the car.

mark tuan

Doesn’t like when you’re drunk because he knows how much you hate throwing up, so he tries to remind you to not drink too much, but at the end of the day you ended up being drunk.

He knows when you want to throw up because you hold his hand and start to hyperventilate. He guides to the bathroom and stays by your side, tying your hair in a ponytail and rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, babe” He says to comforts you because of your emethophobia. Cleans your tears and kiss your back at the same time you try to fight against it.

At the end, he hugs you and helps you to clean your hands and mouth.

jackson wang

After going to a party, you end up being drunk and start to be very talkative, which have made Jackson laugh. Nonetheless, if he lets you, you can easily disappear from his sight so that’s why he carries you in his shoulder on your way home.

“Why did we leave? It was funny” You complain, touching his butt occasionally.

“Princess, you were jumping around everyone and laughing like a crazy. It was funny for you but some people were scared” He said going upstairs.

You laugh loudly, moving and smiling. “Even though, it was funny”

“Stop moving” He says, smacking your ass.

“Babe!”

park jinyoung

He’s so sweet and patient with you.

You ended up sleeping in his arms at the back seat on the way home, totally dozed off after the party. Even if he’s worried, he let’s you have fun and drink how much you want because he knows that you’ve been stressed the last couple months.

He carries you in his back and leaves you in the bed while he takes out your heels, jewelry and makeup, doing it slowly so you don’t wake up.

He kiss your forehead and sleeps by your side, paying attention in case you want to throw up.

choi youngjae

Whenever you get drunk, you become the most lovely person and even more if you’re with your boyfriend. You two decided to have a date and after a couple of glasses of wine, you’re drunk.

“My loveeee” You call him, reaching his hand and kissing it, making him smile.

“Honey, let me pay for this and we can go” He says quietly but you just hug his back.

He helps you to get in the car and put his jacket on you while you kiss his face, leaving red marks all over.

After that, the car ride is calm because you fell sleep as soon as you got inside, making him smile.

bambam

Might be drunk too.

But if he’s drunk too, he’s still protecting you from other men actions in the club.

You dance for him while he’s recording and you can hear his laugh in the video. “Baby, do it again” He says with a smile, being ready to record you.

You two have fun but if he sees a man looking at you with other intentions, he pulls you back to his side, letting the man know that you have a boyfriend.

At the way home, he takes advantage of you sleeping in his chest to take some photos and show you the next day.

kim yugyeom

Can be a little drunk too but he makes sure you stay by your side. You two went out with your friends for a dinner and you’ve been drinking a couple beers together, but he knows how easily you can get drunk.

He puts his hand in your tight, taking your beer out of your hand. “I think it’s enough” He says quietly, kissing your cheek quickly.

You sigh feeling a little hot, resting your head in his shoulder. “You wanna go now?” He asks, noticing your tiredness.

After you said yes, Yugyeom takes you out of the restaurant and drive you home, helping you to undress yourself. Then, you two sleep together.

xoxo girl💋…

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