#Jackson Wang x reader

[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."

[breakmeoff]

Mine, All Mine

featuring: jackson wang x fem!reader warnings: swearing smut: fingering, unprotected p in v, vehicle sex. MDNI, 18+ only* word count: 1.7k synopsis: jackson finds a story your friend posted on insta of you with a dude's arm wrapped around your shoulder at a club. instantly getting enraged, he texts you and demands to know where you are because he's coming to pick you up. letting his jealousy get the better of him, jackson takes out some of those insecurities out on you on the ride back home. note: second time doing part SMAU - hopefully it doesn't suck. this is part of the Larie's Libations 200 Followers Celebration. this was a request by a wonderful anon reader, whose selection is listed below. thank you for reading! LARIE'S LIBATIONS - High-Speed Hennessy [Hennessy] — Jackson Wang [Cola] — Someone's Car [Citrus Rind] — Kink (Breeding, Praise/Light Degradation, and Jealousy) Masterlist

You felt your phone buzz inside your purse, still perched on the barstool that you had been sitting on for the last hour and a half.  Reaching inside, you pulled your cell out and saw your screen flash with a new message.  

Outside.  Driver’s double parked - hurry up.

Rolling your eyes with a heavy sigh, you lifted your cocktail to your lips and finished the contents before glancing over to your friend who was playing tonsil hockey with her coworker - the same one who got you in trouble with your boyfriend.  

As you moved to stand, you grabbed your friend’s arm and gave it a light tug to get her attention.  “Hey, Jackson’s outside… you good?”  Motioning towards the drunk guy kissing her friend’s neck.  “Totes, have fun!”  She slurred over the sound of the music.  

Leaning in, you kissed her cheek briefly before you turned and made your way to the exit.  Once you pushed the door open and stepped into the cool night air, standing right out front with the back slider door opened to the sleek, discrete black SUV, stood your boyfriend.  

With his arms folded against his chest, and those deep brown eyes hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses, his body language was anything but pleased.  

Even if he was pissed and more possessive than necessary, deep down he was still a gentleman.  So, pushing himself off of the vehicle he had been leaning against, he extended his arm out to you and guided you the few steps to your chauffeured ride.

As you stepped past him, Jackson’s shrouded eyes took in your frame, eyeing the sleeveless black dress you were wearing, far too short for his liking.  With your hand on the door, you stepped into the SUV and bent over, ducking your head from the ceiling, and Jackson slid right up behind you to make sure no one could see underneath the dangerously short hemline.  

Finally, you sat down in the captain's chair right behind the driver with a huff, dropping your purse to the ground as you crossed one long bare leg over the other, glancing out the window beside you.  Once Jackson was seated in the chair next to yours and by the sliding door, he pulled it shut and leaned back into the leather as he subtly nodded his head to the driver to leave.

The first few minutes of your ride were in complete silence, save for the quiet purr of the engine and the occasional clicking of an activated turn signal.  Eventually, you groaned in frustration and leaned forward to press the button between the front seats, activating the privacy window to raise from the bottom of the vehicle to the ceiling - effectively making the back invisible and soundproof.

“What the hell is your problem?”  You accused, turning to look over at Jackson with an annoyed tone to your voice.  His focus was still facing forward, boring a hole through the privacy glass with his eyes.  “Or are you just going to be super mature and not talk about it?”

“Jesus…” he mumbled under his breath, sucking in a breath before he turned to look at you.  “My problem is that you seem to have forgotten that you are in a relationship with someone and will let some random ass dude touch you.”

“You’re serious right now?  Be so for real.”  You couldn’t help but laugh, dryly.  “See, here I was thinking that you trusted me.”

“I do,” Jackson interjected quickly.  “It’s just every other asshole out there I don’t trust.”

With a pause, you studied his face, his eyes still hidden behind his dark sunglasses.  Reaching towards him, you pinched the bridge of his shades resting on his nose and took them gently off of him.  Folding them neatly, you tucked them into your purse and looked back to his face.  

“Baby.  Nothing happened.  Shelby was drunk, the dude was drunk, he was pointing something out to me in the crowd and she took the picture.  Two seconds later his tongue was down her throat - not mine.”

Jackson kept quiet, eyes searching your face before he acknowledged the sincere, defeated expression as you were silently pleading for him to believe you.  After a beat, he mumbled quietly, reaching for your hand.  “Good.”

Lacing your fingers between his, you smiled softly as he seemed to relax slightly.  Jackson lifted your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it, holding it there for a moment as he inhaled the lingering scent of your perfume dabbed on the pulse point of your wrist.

Turning your hand over, your palm now open and facing upwards, he pressed his lips to the center of your hand.  Feeling you relax into the seat, he lifted his gaze and watched your face as he trailed light kisses against your open palm and the inside of your wrist.  “C’mere,” he whispered, tugging your arm gently.

Without needing much coercion, you slipped out of your own seat and shifted to sit down on Jackson’s lap, both legs falling to the side between both of the chairs.  Lifting one of his hands, he looked into your eyes before brushing your hair behind your ear.  Sliding that same hand to the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward and connected his lips with yours.

Humming contentedly into his mouth, you tilted your head, deepening the kiss as you draped an arm loosely around his neck, your opposite palm laying flat against his chest, fingertips curling into the fabric of his plain black tee.  “You know I’m all yours right, Jacks?”  He slowly nodded his head, lips dragging over yours again in response.  “All mine.”

Gently coaxing your thighs apart with one of his hands, he slid it up slowly against the inside of your plush skin before reaching your core and as his pinky finger brushed against the fabric of your panties he felt the warm, damp spot beneath his touch.  

“Shit, you already wet for me?  Of course you are…” he murmured between kisses.  With a soft groan, he pressed the knuckle of that same finger further against your heat and rubbed your sensitive skin through the fabric that was getting wetter by the second. 

“Straddle me, Beautiful,” he demanded against your mouth.  You pushed yourself off of him just long enough to resituate yourself, placing one knee on either side of his legs of the chair.  Just before you sat back down against him though, Jackson tugged his black sweatpants down just enough to reveal his perfect, hard cock.

One of his hands reached to your ass, palming it roughly through the fabric of your dress as he pulled you closer to him, and the other hand lazily stroked up and down his length.

As you began lowering yourself down onto his lap, you slid a hand between your legs and pulled your panties to the side, allowing Jackson to swipe the head of his cock against your wet folds.  Groaning lowly, he looked down between your bodies before gently guiding his tip to your entrance and letting you slide down his length.

Once fully seated inside of your warm pussy, both of you sighed a moan, adjusting to the familiar sensations.  Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulder, you leaned back in to press an impassioned, open mouthed kiss to his lips.  

Starting a slow rhythm of rocking your hips above him, you kissed him feverishly, a desperate clashing of lips, teeth and tongues.  “Shit, you feel so good,” Jackson murmured, pulling away from your mouth as he began placing a series of kisses down your neck, trailing the tip of his tongue against your sensitive skin.

Whimpering quietly, you tipped your head back to give him more access to your throat.  “That’s a good girl, let me hear all those sweet noises…” he whispered against your skin, nipping his teeth lightly at the top of your collarbone before sucking a deep purple bruise into your flesh, eliciting a filthy moan from your parted lips.  “Fuck, yeah… just like that.”

Smirking to himself as he leaned back, he blew a breath of cool air onto the wet area he’d just marked into your skin proudly.  “Gonna look so beautiful covered in my love bites.  Marking this flawless skin as mine…” he mumbled, his cock swelling at the thought inside your tight cunt.  

With a low groan, he tipped his head down again to the area between your bodies.  “God, look at you… you’re taking me so well, baby.”  Jackson’s head tipped back against the headrest, pinching his eyes shut as he felt your arousal start to coat his cock, your inner walls fluttering around him.

Your breath became labored the more you increased your speed, using the strength of your knees to lift yourself up and down on top of him.  Dropping your forehead to his shoulder, Jackson could feel your warm exhalation against him, and he lifted a hand to rub your back soothingly.

“Breathe, baby… don’t forget to breathe,” he sighed into your ear, his arms tight around you as he helped move you up and down his length, feeling the delicious friction between your bodies.

Lost so deeply into the moment and the pleasure building between you, neither of you recognized that the SUV had come to a rolling stop.  The speaker connecting the driver to the passengers behind the privacy glass crackled on, and his deep voice rolled over.  “We’ve arrived at the penthouse.”

Bringing one of his hands over your mouth to keep you quiet as he lifted his hips and fucked up into you roughly once more, he pressed the call button on his door and replied.  “One more trip around the block, please.”

Silently, the SUV’s engine restarted and began moving slowly again.  Jackson looked back to your face, you expression still blissed out as you continued rolling your hips over him, grinding your clit against his pelvis.  “Not stopping until I fuck a baby into you, permanently claiming you and this perfect pussy as mine.”

my tags: @angel-writes-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi

[kpopimaginings]

Jackson Wang - Ride me? (NSFW)

A/N: Got a request for some more Jackson on here, so I finally finished this story I started about 3 years ago!

Jackson had had a long day and you knew this. It wasn't a surprise to you that after a quick hello and a kiss he headed straight to the bedroom. What was a surprise was entering it later and finding him still awake. "What's up baby?" you asked him. "Can't sleep?"

You sat beside him and ran your hand through his hair soothingly.

He shook his head. "I want sex."

You were taken aback by his blunt words.

"You look like you want sleep."

"Ride me?" he asked, giving a pout and his irresistible puppy eyes.

"Really?"

He honestly looked to you like he'd fall asleep before either of you climaxed.

"I've missed you. It feels like so long since we were together and I kept getting distracted thinking about you today."

"I can lay with you and cuddle while you fall asleep?" you offered.

Jackson just looked up at you with a pout and his puppy eyes you loved so much. He ran a hand up and down your thigh.

"Please?" he asked again, his hand wandering slowly higher and higher.

"You are far too persuasive, Jackson Wang," you sighed, causing a bright smile to appear on your boyfriends face.

He swiftly pulled you so were straddling him and brought your lips together. You couldn't help but giggle into the kiss at how eager Jackson was despite his sleepy state.

"Baby," you mumbled against his lips and he just hummed in response. "I'm wearing far too many clothes for this," you finished, pulling back slightly.

It was Jackson's turn to let out a laugh this time, releasing his grip on you so that you could shed your clothes. He lazily threw back the covers so that you could join him under them. That was when you noticed that he was already naked and semi hard.

"You really are keen, aren't you?" you teased before climbing back on top of him.

He just grinned up at you, before pulling you back down to connect your lips once more. One of his hands threaded through your hair while the other splayed out against your back, keeping you as close as possible.

As your lips were engaged with Jackson's, you slowly began grinding down against him.

"Baby," he moaned, "Feels so good already."

You smiled before kissing him again, continuing your movements to make sure you were both ready before going further.

As you finally slid down onto him, he let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

You smiled, letting out a happy hum yourself. "Is this what you needed, baby?"

He hummed in confirmation. "Love you," he mumbled out in his half sleepy, half blissed state.

"Love you too," you smiled, capturing his lips in yours and rolling your hips.

Jacksons breath hitched at your movement, so you continued.

"Let me know when you're close, yeah?"

The only reply you got was a nod as he gripped your hips tightly to keep you moving against him. You allowed your hands to roam from his chest around his body, your hips still grinding against him.

Despite his tired state, Jackson was still rocking his hips in time with yours, his hold on your hips so tight it was as though he was worried you may vanish.

"Close, baby," he muttered, screwing his eyes shut.

You leant forward to kiss his lips. "Good," you whispered in his ear, "Let go for me, baby."

The closeness of your body against his, your soft breath against his ear and the continued movement of you hips timed with his was exactly what he needed to reach his high.

With a grunt as his movements stuttered as you kept circling your hips, riding out his high and chasing your own. After finishing yourself, you pushed yourself up again, looking down at your boyfriend. His eyes were still closed as you softly brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"Is that what you needed?"

He nodded and hummed, the only response he had energy to give you.

"I'm just going to clean up and I'll be back to snuggle you," you said as you got up to head to the bathroom.

Upon your return you pulled on the first of Jackson's tshirts you found and were very unsurprised to see his fast asleep in almost the exact position you left him in.

With a small smile, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks before snuggling into him to drift off yourself.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

[ldydeath]

Bullshit | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong gets jealous of your friendship with Jackson Wang after seeing some texts. Word Count: 1888 Warnings: Jealousy, Jiyong being a big dumb in a cute way, fluff, slight nsfw? Like very light hand stuff but no actual smut. Author’s Note: this idea came to me after joining Jackson’s broadcast channel. Its just a silly little thing to get me back into writing. I’ve never written for Jackson before so be gentle. And of course the word count is 1888. Ji is in my head I swear.

Jiyong wasn’t the type to get jealous. At least that’s what he’d thought until he’d met you. It wasn’t that he was insecure or doubted your relationship, he knew what you had was solid. He just didn’t like to share. So when you’d met Jackson at his concert in Korea and become friends he hadn’t cared at first.

He still liked to pretend he didn’t care. He knew you’d been a fan of his music, knew he was a good person, a good friend. But it drove him crazy anytime he saw Jackson around you. Especially now that he’d seen that stupid notification.

He hadn’t meant to see it. Hadn’t been spying. You were showing him a funny fan edit when the notification bar had dropped down.

In hotel. Currently.

Why the fuck was he telling you he was in his hotel? Jiyong wasn’t having that. He’d spent the rest of the night trying to hide his pout. This was supposed to be a good week. His best friend was back out in the world, in the same city as the festival he was set to perform at no less. The three of you had been having fun all week sneaking around behind cameras to go to dinners and art museums around Los Angeles and then Jackson had showed up.

As the two of you arrived at sound check, there he was. Talking to one of the producers. Why was he even there? His stuff was on Sunday. Jiyong glared as you let go of his hand and made your way to him.

“Jackson!” You grinned, pulling your friend in for a hug. Completely unaware of Jiyong’s seething.

“Hey!” He hugged you back, his eyes finding Jiyong who nodded. “How are you?”

“Great! Tired. Jet lag is a bitch. I honestly don’t know how you guys do this all the time.”

Jackson laughed and Jiyong’s head whipped around. He’d turned for a second to get his equipment ready when he heard the laugh. This wasn’t going to work. He rolled his shoulders and made his way over to you, his arm wrapping loosely around you.

“Hi Jiyong.” Jackson bowed respectfully. Jiyong didn’t return the bow, just nodded his head.

“You scooping out the acts or something?” There was a slight edge to Jiyong’s voice.

“No, I knew you two were here today and wanted to show my support.”

“Oh. Well, I’d invite you to hang out after but we’ll be busy. If you catch my drift.” Your eyes shot up towards Jiyong who was now smirking.

“Oh yeah, that’s cool.” Jackson shrugged, his brows raising in confusion.

“Well. I better get up there.” He waved to Jackson before leaning in to kiss you.

After soundcheck you’d met Jiyong backstage and headed back to the hotel. You spent the rest of the evening resting in the hotel, watch live streams of Seunghyun killing his return to the spotlight. Jiyong sending him encouraging texts while you showed him all the fan edits of the two of them.

It was fun watching the fans freak out because Gtop was in the same city, as if they didn’t live down the street from each other back home. Jiyong was laughing at the newest reel when another message from Jackson popped up about going to bed. He saw red. He’d remind you tomorrow just how silly it was for you to be talking like this with Jackson.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Jiyong rolled his eyes as the name popped back into his head. He needed to focus. He went on in an hour and all he could think about was how you’d be watching from the front row with him.

“You ok?” Your voice broke him from his thoughts and he cleared his throat as he popped his knuckles.

“Peachy.” He mumbled, a small smile finding its way to his face.

“Okay. Come on, let’s color your tips”

It had become tradition at this point to spray his tips before every show. Something you enjoyed doing for him. He didn’t trust a lot of people with his hair but this was something easy, to test the waters, and you were happy to do it.

“Nah. I’m going full pink.” He smirked and leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek.

You put the bottle down and watched him make his way to the sink. Thirty minutes later his beautiful white locks that you’d barely gotten to appreciate because two months wasn’t long enough, were now pink. He stood in front of you with a smirk.

“What do you think?”

“The fangirls are going to go crazy tonight.” You grinned as you looked at the finished product.

His hair now fully styled for the night. You leaned up to fix the collar on his blue jacket. It was much different from the rose suit he usually wore out on stage, but this look was doing it for you.

“Go, there’s a VIP section up front for you, Jaeho will take you. I’ll see you after.”

“Ok. Love you.”

Just as you were about to leave, he grabbed your arm and spun you around, his infamous smirk on his lips. Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips were on yours. His hand roaming down to your ass and he gave it a gentle squeeze. You gasped, which he took advantage of by slipping his tongue into your mouth. His hand moving from your ass to slip under your skirt, rubbing the thin material of your panties. Just enough to tease you.

“See you after.” He smirked as he pulled away. You glared at him as you made your way out of the trailer.

You made your way to the front row, with Jaeho leading the way and were surprised to find Jackson as well as a few other artists there.

“Hey!” You waved as you pulled your day-g out of your pocket.

“Hey. Is he good?” Jackson’s head nodded to the stage and your brows furrowed.

“Yeah? Why?”

“He just seemed kind of off yesterday.”

“Oh.” You waved your hand, as if blowing off his behavior. “He gets weird before shows sometimes, he’s fine. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

The music started and you cheered as the DJs intro set came out. It lasted longer than you would’ve liked, but once the intro to Power started you no longer felt like Jiyong’s girlfriend. You felt like a fan.

When he didn’t come out right away you led the crowd in a Kwon Jiyong chant, knowing he’d eat it up. When he finally emerged he was oozing in confidence. He’d slowly been getting G-Dragon back week after week, but tonight was different.

He didn’t have to hype himself up to do his swag check chant it finally just came naturally. His movements were smooth, sure, like the stage was made for him. Seeing him this way was hot.

“Good job, Jiyong!” You yelled. His eyes roaming around loooking for you.

“Who said that?” He peered out into the crowd, eyes finally landing on you. “Was it you?” You nodded and he crouched down, pointing at you with a smirk. “Thank you.” He sassed, a playful smirk on his lips as he stood back up to finish the song.

He hadn’t missed the fact that you were standing with Jackson and as much as he wanted to step off the stage and punch him, he couldn’t. So he put his energy into making sure he gave you the best performance he could muster today.

He tried to mix things up a bit, doing a remix of Drama, the DJ adding the air horn effect wasn’t doing it for you or him. You could see him trying not to laugh every time it went off. You and Jackson had started counting down to it at this point. It was definitely going to be something you laughed at for years to come.

When it was time for the Too Bad dance break, you cheered the loudest. This was always your favorite part. So when he started singing We’re up all night to get lucky and his eyes found yours, you blushed. This song was one of the ones you two sang to each other as a joke and now he was singing it to you in front of the largest crowd you’d seen. He winked at you before finishing the song.

And just like that, the night was over. Jackson walked you back to the artist only area since Jaeho was busy doing his job. Jiyong spotted you coming and walked over to you both, the smirk still on his face.

“Thanks for bringing my girl back safely, Magic Mike.” He smirked, shaking Jackson’s hand.

“Yeah? No problem?” Jackson scratched the back of his head before walking over to talk to Chaerin.

“You were amazing!” You gushed leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Better than Jackson?” He whined.

“Ji, what?” You weren’t sure what Jackson had to do with this.

“I saw the messages. On instagram.” You blinked at him and he sighed. “At the hotel? At the gym? Going to bed.” He rolled his eyes and you let out a snort.

“Are you serious?” He nodded. “One. You’re an idiot. I’m not sneaking around with Jackson. Two. It’s his broadcast channel.”

“His what?” He cut you off, confusion on his face.

“His broadcast channel. To connect with fans. He just overshares more than everyone else and I’ve been meaning to mute the chat altogether but keep forgetting.” You pulled out your phone, handing it to Jiyong to investigate.

After a few minutes of scrolling, Jiyong’s face flushed, clearly embarrassed for thinking the worst of you both.

“Oh.” You nodded, taking your phone back.

“Oh indeed.” You grinned. “You’re so lucky I love your dumb ass. “Jackson!” You turned finding your friend who made his way back over to you guys. “I believe Ji has something he’d like to say to you.”

Jiyong rolled his eyes before turning to Jackson, “I didn’t know what a broadcast channel was and thought you were trying to move in on my girl. So I’m sorry for acting weird.”

“Hey, can’t blame you. She’s a catch anyone with eyes can see that. But we all respect you a little too much to try and ruin your life, Hyung.” He paused. “How are you chronically online and don’t know what a broadcast channel is? You old, man.”

“Go away.” Jiyong laughed. Jackson bowed and walked off.

“Come on.” You grabbed Jiyong’s hand and basically yanked him to start moving towards the exit.

“Where are we going?” He ran to keep up with you.

“To finish what you started before your set.”

“I haven’t even changed yet!” He tried to yank his arm free. “You gotta let up your grip, you’re hurting me.”

“You’re not changing.” You turned to face him, your grip not loosening. “You look fucking hot and we gotta go now.”

Jiyong smirked and shook his head as he followed you out. It may have been a misunderstanding but he was glad to know you still only had eyes for him after all this time. That was the only confidence boost he’d ever really need. He was lucky to have you and be loved by you.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @aizshallnotbefound @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @ttturnitup @flymetothexmoon @mashtatosworld @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @sherrayyyyy @bettelaboure @allthoughtsmindfull @soragojo

[sleekervae]

Solo Mode [11] jackson wang x fem!reader

Masterlist

Pairing: jackson wang/fem!oc

Summary: heather doesn't speak mandarin

Warnings: some yelling, slight angst

Word Count: 2.1k

The clock on Heather’s monitor read 12:47 a.m.

She hadn’t moved in hours—aside from the subtle twitch of her wrist, the occasional shift in posture, and the relentless click of keys as she ran another bug test. The glow of her second monitor cast her in pale blue, while a lukewarm mug of instant coffee sat forgotten at her elbow.

Through the thin apartment wall, she could hear Jackson again. Guitar at first—soft and rhythmic, like he was noodling, not composing. It had become part of her nightly atmosphere: dryer hum, fan whirring, and Jackson, strumming out bits of half-finished songs like he didn’t know she was listening.

Once upon a time, she would’ve put on headphones. Now she found herself leaving them off on purpose.

It wasn’t just noise anymore—it was company. An ambient reassurance that he was there, still humming along next door, still chasing something in the chords. It made her feel... strangely okay. Like the nights didn’t press quite as heavy when his presence sat just on the other side of the drywall.

But then the music stopped.

Just abruptly—cut off mid-note.

Heather blinked at her screen, fingers stilling over the keyboard. She waited, thinking maybe a string had broken or he’d paused to adjust the tuning. But instead of music, she heard his voice.

Low at first, muttered. Then louder. Clipped syllables and sharp consonants in Mandarin, each one tumbling fast over the next like they’d been dammed up too long.

And then—he yelled.

Not the performative kind, not one meant for theatrics or slamming doors. This was raw. Bare. A sound that didn’t seem to care who heard it because he couldn’t not say it.

Heather froze.

She didn’t know what he was saying—her Mandarin was limited to menu items and a couple greetings—but she knew pain when she heard it. Knew the gutted edge of it. Knew how hard it was to shout like that unless something inside you had split open.

There was silence after that. A long, unsteady kind.

She sat back in her chair, the game engine forgotten, staring at the wall that separated their apartments like it had become a question she didn’t know how to answer.

She wanted to check on him. Wanted to knock, to say something casual, like, Hey, are you okay? or Just happened to be out in the hallway at 1 a.m., wow, funny timing.

But then she remembered the rules. Their perfect, tidy arrangement: No emotional entanglements. No playing nursemaid or confidante. No crossing wires.

She swallowed, chest tight with hesitation. This wasn’t part of the deal.

So why did it feel worse to do nothing?

Her hand hovered near her phone. She stared at it. Then at the wall. Then back again.

What if he was okay? What if it was none of her business?

What if he wasn’t?

The silence stretched, taut and weighted.

Heather exhaled slowly through her nose.

Goddamn him.

She didn’t sleep.

She told herself it was the adrenaline. Or the stubborn glitch in the character menu that kept breaking every time she adjusted the UI. But it wasn’t that.

It was the silence. The dead weight of it. The way it pressed against her wall long after Jackson had stopped yelling.

By the time the sun dragged itself over the horizon, she’d convinced herself it wasn’t her problem. That she hadn’t heard enough to justify doing anything. That it was just noise through drywall, and she’d have done the same for any neighbor. Right?

Right.

She opened her door just as the delivery guy was approaching, brown paper bag in one hand and a cardboard tray balancing two drinks. He gave her a tired smile and handed them over with practiced indifference.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, not fully awake.

And then she saw him.

Jackson stepped out of the lobby at the same time, wearing sunglasses despite the overcast light outside, hoodie drawn up like armor. He looked pale. Or maybe just unshaven. Not hungover, exactly, but worn down—like his edges had frayed overnight and he hadn’t gotten around to trimming them back yet.

He didn’t see her at first. Didn’t seem to see much at all.

Heather shifted, coffee tray awkward in her hands. “Late night?”

His head turned toward her, slow and heavy. Behind the lenses, she imagined him squinting—calculating how much she knew, how much she’d heard.

“Something like that,” he said, voice low and scratchy.

They walked to the elevator in silence, her sneakers squeaking softly against the hallway tile.

Inside, the air was thick with that awful, uncertain quiet. Not angry. Not cold. Just... brittle. She kept glancing sideways, wanting to say something—anything—but every option felt too soft, or too invasive, or just plain wrong.

So she went with stupid.

“You look like you lost a fight with your pillow,” she said lightly, gesturing vaguely to his hoodie and sunglasses.

His mouth twitched, but not into a smile. “Pillow won by knockout.”

The elevator dinged. Floor two.

Heather’s grip tightened around the drink tray. “You okay?”

Too real. Too close.

Jackson didn’t answer right away. Just stared straight ahead as the numbers ticked down.

“I’m fine,” he said finally, but it landed with a dull, practiced flatness.

Floor one.

Heather bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t believe him. Not for a second. But she also didn’t push. She’d told herself she wasn’t getting involved. She didn’t do mess. And whatever storm he’d weathered last night wasn’t hers to fix.

Even if part of her wanted to.

The doors opened, spilling them into the hall with a gust of cool air. Jackson nodded once—something like a goodbye—and headed back into his place without waiting.

Heather stood there a beat longer, fingers sweating around her iced coffee.

Still not her problem. Still just a neighbor.

The second he shut the door behind him, Jackson yanked off the sunglasses and tossed them blindly onto the kitchen counter. They skidded, clattered to the floor. He didn’t pick them up.

His phone still sat face-down on the edge of his desk, screen black. Like it was trying to be innocent. Like it hadn’t just ruined his night.

He ran a hand through his hair and dropped onto the couch with a quiet, simmering groan. His jaw ached from clenching. His lungs were tight. There was a part of him—small and shriveled—that still couldn’t believe she’d called. That she’d had the nerve.

Lia.

God, he should’ve let it go to voicemail.

She’d sounded bright at first. Peppy. Like someone checking in on an old friend. Like she hadn’t ghosted him for months, only to resurface like some glossy ghost, full of charm and no conscience.

“I was just thinking about you,” she’d said, like it was sweet. Like that was supposed to mean something. “I saw your new stuff on Spotify. Sounds really good.”

And it spiraled from there.

Jackson had held on for about five minutes. Five whole minutes of trying to be civil, trying not to sound bitter, trying to keep his voice level while Lia danced around the truth with her usual silk-gloved blame.

She wanted to see him. "Talk in person." Said she missed him. Missed them.

He laughed—bitter, involuntary. “You miss me when no one else is texting you back. Let’s not confuse nostalgia with need.”

That’s when she got sharper. Snapped right back to the girl he remembered too well. Accused him of always being dramatic, of making everything about him. That he was the one who couldn’t let go, who’d written an entire album about a breakup he should’ve seen coming.

“You were already halfway gone,” he’d said, low and bitter, “and you wanted me to finish the job so you didn’t have to feel bad about it.”

She didn’t deny it. Just went quiet. Which somehow made it worse.

He’d ended the call with a snapped “Don’t call me again” and then sat there, staring at the wall for what felt like an hour, his whole body tight with rage and something else—regret, maybe. Or embarrassment that some part of him had still wanted to hear her voice.

By the time midnight came, he couldn’t work. Couldn’t think. Every song draft sounded thin. Every lyric trite.

And then he’d heard Heather moving next door. Late-night tapping. Key clicks. A faint chair scrape. Normally it annoyed him. Or amused him. But last night, it’d felt oddly grounding.

He should’ve knocked. Said something. But rules were rules.

So he stayed in his own little hell.

And this morning? Yeah, he saw her. He saw the curiosity in her face, the half-hearted joke she tried in the elevator. He couldn’t even give her a real smile. He felt like shit for brushing her off, but the last thing he wanted was to spill his drama all over her.

Heather didn’t want that. She didn’t want messy. She wanted clean lines and neat boundaries.

And he was anything but neat right now.

Still, as he dropped back into his desk chair and stared at the blinking cursor on his screen, he thought of her—barefaced and sleepy in the hallway, cradling her coffee like it was armor.

And for some reason, that image stayed with him longer than it should have.

Heather tried to focus.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then tapped out half a line of code before she backspaced it into oblivion. The blinking cursor pulsed like a heartbeat, mocking her with every flash.

Henry’s update email sat unread in her inbox. Marcus had just sent a message too — predictably passive-aggressive.

Found another bug in the inventory screen. You want me to fix it or are you still “perfecting” the code?

The quotation marks made her want to launch her laptop into space.

But she didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. Because it was quiet. Too quiet.

No guitar strums through the wall. No off-key humming. No keys clicking or soft swearing in Mandarin. Not even the distant creak of floorboards. It was the absence that had her most on edge. She hadn’t realized how much she’d gotten used to Jackson’s noise — the little signs of life bleeding through drywall like a secondhand presence.

Now, with the silence so sharp it buzzed, she couldn’t ignore it.

She stared at her screen a moment longer before pushing away from the desk and grabbing her phone. Her thumb hovered. She wasn’t about to go over there. That would be breaking the agreement. Not that there was an official agreement—but still. It would be weird.

Instead, she scrolled to Jessica’s name and hit dial.

It rang twice before her sister picked up. “Hey sis! You alive? Or did you crawl into a dev tunnel and forget how time works again?”

“Still alive,” Heather muttered. “Barely.”

Jessica chuckled. “What’s up?”

Heather hesitated. “I… you remember my neighbour?”

“The hot neighbour with villainous cheekbones?” Jessica said, already interested. “Yes, he rings a bell.”

“I didn’t say he was hot.”

“You didn’t say he wasn’t.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “He’s just—he’s usually noisy. Not in a bad way. Music, guitar, singing sometimes. And he works late, like I do. I’ve sort of… gotten used to hearing it. But last night he stopped playing and started shouting. On the phone, I think. I didn’t understand what he was saying, but it was intense.”

Jessica’s teasing tone shifted into something softer. “Yikes. Did it sound like he was in trouble?”

“I don’t know. It was in Chinese. But it got heated. And then nothing. And I haven’t heard anything since.” she shrugged.

“Have you checked on him?”

“No. That’d be weird, right? We’re not close. We’re just --" she had to stop herself for a moment, exhaling through her nose, "… neighbors.”

Jessica made a thoughtful sound. “Look, I’m not saying go full Florence Nightingale. But if you’re worried, there’s nothing wrong with knocking and asking if he’s okay.”

“It’s not really my business...”

“Maybe not. But sometimes people don’t say they need help. Especially the ones who act like they’ve got it all figured out.”

Heather exhaled. “I’m probably overthinking.”

“Or you’re not. Either way, caring doesn’t make you weak.”

Heather didn’t respond to that. Just nodded into the quiet.

“Keep me posted, okay?” Jessica added. “And maybe let him know someone noticed. Doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

They hung up a minute later. Heather set her phone down on the counter, but didn’t move. The silence pressing through the wall behind her was steady, almost taunting. Still no music. No humming. No bursts of inspiration or curse-laced chords bleeding into her apartment like they usually did.

Just quiet.

And she hated that she’d noticed.

Worse, she hated that it bothered her.

She told herself it was just habit. She’d gotten used to it, that’s all. Used to the creative chaos of having Jackson Wu next door—loud, moody, brilliant Jackson—always up too late, always composing something half-genius and half-deranged. His noise had become background music to her focus. Like the fan she used to sleep with in college. Just part of the rhythm of things.

But now, without it, everything felt… off.

So she opened her phone. Scrolled past her unread messages from Henry, skimmed Marcus’s passive-aggressive bug report texts, and tapped open the delivery app before she could think better of it.

She searched for the place Jackson had ordered from that morning—same place that made that stupidly good egg wrap and muffin. Her finger hovered over the options, indecisive, until she landed on a breakfast wrap packed with protein, and a double chocolate muffin that looked entirely too indulgent for someone in a bad mood.

She added a bottle of orange juice for good measure. Healthy but not try-hard.

When it arrived twenty minutes later, Heather scrawled a note on a post-it with the pen she always kept clipped to her tablet case. Her handwriting looked a little messier than usual, thanks to nerves and stubborn pride.

Lemme know if you wanna talk. Or not. It's cool either way. – H.O

It was casual. Neutral. An open door without any pressure to walk through it. Which, hopefully, made it feel safe enough.

She padded into the hallway, heart thudding a little too fast for what was objectively a bag of breakfast and a note. She knocked three times—quick and sharp—and immediately turned on her heel, scurrying back to her apartment like she was fifteen and teepeeing someone's front lawn.

She barely had her door closed before she heard his open across the hall.

Silence.

Then a beat of rustling as the bag was picked up.

Jackson stared down at the offering on his doorstep. Healthy-ish wrap. Muffin. Orange juice. His brow furrowed, even as a tiny laugh ghosted under his breath. He pulled the note free, eyes scanning the quick, no-nonsense scrawl.

Typical Heather.

He stood there in his hoodie and sweats, hair still messy from the night before, the weight of last night’s call still pressing on his shoulders. But something about the post-it note eased it just slightly. A little pressure valve, cracked open.

He tucked the note into his pocket.

And saved the muffin for last.

[spacequokka]

GOT7 Turn Ons & Kinks

I’m so GOT7 coded rn. Here I go again interpreting birth charts for my own silly pleasure. Take it with a pinch of salt, ahgases. The way this sat in my drafts for over a year yet only took about an hour to finish. I refused to change the pics for the next comeback so here ya go.

Mark || Venus: Leo, Mars: Libra || Turn On: Praise (Receiving)

He’s twinning with Yeosang in that he just wants to hear he’s making you feel good. Like seriously, let him know when he’s hitting the right spot or tell him no one else is as good as he is. Might also dish it right back because he has that kinda vibe. Can be broody if he feels like you’re not matching his level of intensity as far as the relationship goes, which can be cured with some praise and appreciation.

Jaebeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Cockwarming

They say stability and trustworthiness are sexy, and Jay B took that personally. He wants to impress you with his endless cool and mature vibes, so when you’re tired of boys, he can be your man. He’s a romantic, so you can expect loads of sweet, traditional gestures. Okay, but what about the Jay B who sang Switch It Up? Read the lyrics. He told us what he likes. So bold. Somewhat traditional, with a bit of spice here and there. After seeing him read mild tame thirst tweets, I truly believe he’d hesitate to try kinky things like choking or spanking, like he just wants to be inside you and hold you close. The promise of the intimacy alone is enough to have him dragging you to bed.

Jackson || Venus: Aries, Mars: Pisces || Kink: Daddy 

If you know me even a little bit you knew this was coming. My GAWD the amount of love and care that seeps from this man’s pores is fucking amazing. He lives to care for and spoil you like no other, wanting to make sure you have everything you could ever need or want. And that translates to his bedroom. Help? This freaky ball of energy is gonna wear you tf out. He legit doesn’t give a fuck how many times you’ve cum, he needs more. Will strive to leave you hoarse from calling him daddy just because he loves to hear you say it. I could write a fucking essay on this istg.

Jinyoung || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Bondage

Another hill I’ll die on. A king in the streets and a control freak in the sheets. Just the thought of tying you down to his bed is enough to get him going. Loves to tease and torture you until you’re begging to be let go or fucked hard. Wanna be a brat? Face down and ass up with your arms secured behind your back. Being inside you is just a bonus at that point. Go ahead and struggle, it’s cute to him. You’ll be crying with relief when he finally gets inside you.

Youngjae || Venus: Leo, Mars: Leo || Turn On: Collaring (Receiving)

“Mars in Leo natives enjoy sex more than most”--say less. So Jae’s freaky af and I will hear none of this pure cinnamon roll slander. Honestly he’s probably as bad as Jay B. So what does this bub like? A collar. Hear me out. Collaring is one of the freakiest things you can do to someone while also showing them how much you care/love them. He just wants to be yours--mind, body, and soul. In return, you get his unconditional love and unwavering loyalty. He doesn’t mind you taking the lead in bed because he trusts you and your judgment. You touching/pulling on his collar makes all the blood in his body rush down south and it doesn’t take long for him to start begging you to ride him.

BamBam || Venus: Taurus, Mars: Virgo || Turn On: Nipple Play (Giving)

After deeming him a boobie lover, I can’t help but see him as a motor boatin’ son of a bitch. Lives to put his face near your chest and play with it. In bed you can bet he’ll be kissing and biting on your nips until you beg him to stop. Once you start that up, he’s eager to get inside of you just to continue doing it so he can feel you squeeze the life outta his dick.

Yugyeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Thigh Riding

Lemme be Captain Obvious for a few seconds. You belong on his thigh. He knows it. You know it. So why aren’t you on it? While he loves any form of teasing you, watching you get all worked up to the point of ruining his pants is an experience he can’t live without. It’s lowkey fascinating that it feels that good for you and he barely has to do anything other than force you to keep moving once you reach that peak. His favorite part is watching your cute little face scrunch up as you shiver in his arms. Then he’ll tease you about it while pulling your legs around his waist and unzipping his pants...

[star-suh]

Dilf Attractor.

Jackson Wang, Lee Minhyuk, Lee Hoseok, Choi Minho, Son Hyunwoo x Male Reader.

cw: porn with a bit of plot?, dom tops dilfs, jackson is more gentle than the rest, cheating, choking, blackmailing, sex toys, restraints, sensory privation, car sex, impregnation kink.

—

“you are hired” words that made yn excited, he finally has a job after searching for one for so long, “thank you so much, i won’t disappoint you” yn shakes hands with the principal of the kindergarten, a prestigious one, in where the kids of rich people would go to study. “you can start tomorrow” the older man said to yn who once again thanked him. “new life here i go” he joyfully said.

the place is big, almost as big as a condo, “rich people” yn laughs walking on the brick road, surrounded by trees and bushes that made the air a little bit cleaner than the rest of the city full of smoke. “this is too big to be just a kindergarten” yn mutters, looking at the many buildings around the landscape, he finally arrives at his workplace. “here it is” he dusts his suit and swallows hard feeling nervous, “you can do this yn” he opens the door. “hello mr. teacher” the kids said in unison, drawing a smile from the boy, he notices how there’s only five kids in there, “hey kids” he says, happiness in his tone, “how are you all?” he asks, walking towards his desk, “we are okay, what about you mr. teacher?”. ‘hmm so polite’ he thinks, “i’m okay too, thanks for asking”. classes went even better than he thought, the kids were being so polite all the time, well behaved and they paid attention to the whole class, “i thought this would be hell, dealing with kids is though but they’re not” yn says to his friend –jungwoo, on the phone.”nice yn” he says on the other side of the line, “i wish everything goes good with your new job”. “aww you’re so nicee jungwoooo” he tried to act cutesy, “i wish you were here to kiss and hug you” he says pouting. “cut the bullshit yn, don’t be annoying” they both laugh a good time.

yn was walking outside the kindergarten when a message popped up on his notifications, tomorrow there’s a parents meeting in where you have to introduce yourself to them and explain them your study plan, “great not even a day in and now i have their parents on me” he sighs, “i have to prepare for this” he walks sluggishly.

the next day he arrives minutes after the meeting and he approaches the principal to ask him about why there are only 5 kids in his class. “oh it’s because their parents wanted it like that” the principal explains, “you see this kindergarten is basically maintained with their money so we offered them plans, one of them is to make small groups of kids so they could pay more attention to their classes, in that way the distract themselves less than were being in a crowded room”. “mmm i see. it’s also a win-win thing too, teachers could teach things way better you know, small group of students the more the pay attention”. “well yes” the principal reassures, “now please go to your classroom and wait for their parents there please”. “yes sir” yn stood up and walked towards the door, leaving the room to go to his workplace. “what to do, i’m nervous as fuck” he utters, “what if they’re those type of rich scary parents?” the door creaks open. “yn stood up immediately he almost threw the chair to the floor, his legs quivering, “good morning” his voice cracking in the middle of the greeting but what he saw made his mouth go agape. 5 gorgeous men walking inside the classroom –they were tall, muscular… sexy. you could see their muscles bulging on the ones wearing suits and the veiny arms on the ones with t-shirts or that have their sleeves rolled up, what a fucking sight yn had in front of him, his mouth watering at the thoughts of these sexy men running wild on his head. “good morning” they greeted back, sexy voices that could make anyone wet. “i’m yn ln, the new teacher of your kids” he says, trying to keep his composure. “nice to meet you ln, i’m jackson wang” he extends his hand for yn to shake, his hand way bigger than his, “nice to meet you mr. wang” he responds with a smile. “i’m lee minhyuk” one of them bows and is followed by the other dad, “and i’m lee hoseok”, ’fuck they’re so big’ yn thinks, “i’m son hyunwoo, nice to meet you” he also extends his hands for him to shook. lastly the one remaining spoke, “i’m choi minho, a pleasure” his big calloused hand clasping together with yn’s but this wasn’t a normal handshake, the older’s finger grazed lightly on yn’s wrist, making him feel… something, that also paired with his piercing gaze made yn feel small.

the meeting concluded and yn felt relieved, almost one hour trapped in the room surrounded by big strong men, smelling their musky scents and refined perfumes. it was somewhat intoxicating for him –considering his love for older men. thankfully it’s the weekend now and he doesn’t have to see them until the next reunion… right?

MONDAY

the day went on as it normally is, except that yn was notified that one of the dads would come after class to talk to him. “what did i do?” he mumbles to himself trying to remember if he did something bad but nothing comes to mind. the door opens, “hello mr. ln” it was minho, “hi sir, how’s your day going?”, “good but it could’ve been better”, he sits on the couch that was in the room, manspreading his legs right in front of yn. yn gulps –feeling nervous– “why’s that?” he asks, acting calmly, “my job has been stressing me a lot lately” he speaks, something is lace in his tone but yn can’t quite put the finger on it, “so?” curiosity getting the best out of yn. “you’re cute” he says out of nowhere leaving yn bewildered, not knowing what to do or say”.

minho stands up walking towards yn who remains sitting. he comes near him putting his hand on yn’s shoulder and the other on his cheek, his thumb grazing gently the other’s lower lip, “and i like me something cute” he winks, his thumb entering yn’s mouth to play with his tongue. “b-but mr… choi” yn tries to protest but minho denies him, “tsk tsk don’t say anything just accept it”. yn’s eyes become glassy, tears pooling on them while gagging on minho’s fingers, he was introducing yn by one inside him. “you’re quite experienced on this” he mumbles.

“don’t you have a wife mr. choi?” submissiveness taking over his body, this was too hot and sexy to not want more, “shush she doesn’t have to know” he smirks sinisterly.

yn was now kneeling in front of the couch, sucking on minho’s cock leaving it all slobbery. his tie was on yn’s neck and he uses it as a leash. “come on, you can do more than this” he pulls on the tie, gaining a choked moan out of the other’s lips. yn puts his hands on minho’s thighs to get leverage. every time minho would pull the tie harder and harder, yn was sure it would leave marks on his neck. “choke on it bitch” he mutters quite angry locking yn’s head with his thighs to make him deepthroat his cock. he left yn like that for some seconds, releasing him seconds later for him to breath, “fuck yeah look at this” he cups yn’s chin on his hand, his thumb grazing over yn’s glossy lips –coated in spit and precum– “aren’t you a pretty motherfucker?” weeping yn’s tears, “come here”.

yn was on top of his desk, sitting in a kneeling position, his assspread open for minho to rail him like the good bitch he has been. his cock hitting all the right places inside yn. his back arched thanks to the strong tug minho has on the tie, not so strong to choke him but neither so weak, just the right amount to let some oxygen go to his breath. yn felt dizzy, his brain turned into mush, “who would’ve thought this tight pussy would be so good” minho’s hand sneaking on yn’s torso to pinch one of his nipples, “tell me what you want” he demanded. seeing how yn was responsive he tugged more at the tie, his back perfectly arched, his back pressed against minho’s big and firm chest, “answer me hoe”. “C-CUMM” yn yelled, “give me.. give me cum pl-please” he was begging at this point, wanting to get over with it. “ good bitch” minho grabs yn’s head pushing it back for him to spit on his mouth and kiss him. a few sloppy thrusts later he came, his cock throbbing on yn’s ass while the latter was swallowing his feral grunts, lips locked between them, also minho tugged as harder as ever with every spurt of his spooge going inside the teacher.

he gets dressed and gets ready to leave, “who’s a good bitch” he spanks one of yn glutes making it bounce. he gets closer again towards yn introducing his thumb in the cum-coated hole while grabbing him by the neck with the other hand, his face on the right side whispering a “this is not the last time” on his ear. “see you next time mr. ln” he waves a goodbye sucking the thumb that was inside yn, his gaze was scary but sexy at the same time, like a feral animal in heat. “what just happened…” yn mutters defeated on his desk.

TUESDAY

yn was on his lunch break when the sound of a notification pulled him out of his trance, an unknown number, he opened it and looked at the picture, it was mr. wang one of the parents of his students. the message reads: *i need to talk to you*, “weird” he thought –recalling yesterday's events, his body shaking at the memory. he replied to the message, waiting eagerly for his reply, *this is the address where i work, i’ll wait for you*, seeing how the place was relatively close and he had an hour left he decided to go.

“hello mr. ln” he greets, hugging yn –his hand weirdly placed on yn’s butt. ‘just as he told us’ jackson says in his head. “take a seat please”, yn nods and obeys. “so why did you message me mr. wang?”, “oh please call me jackson, no need for formalities with me. i supposed i can call you yn?”. yn stays still for mere seconds, just staring at jackson’s open shirt –showing his defined chest. “y-yeah”.

“okay yn” he stands up, walking around his desk until he’s right behind yn, both hands placed on his shoulders. yn feels something poking at his back, “i told you to come here because..” he sighs, “you’re handsome. and i can’t help but to take a piece of you”. at this point yn realizes that jackson’s bulge is the thing poking his back –he shamelessly humps his back, putting pressure on yn’s shoulders to keep him still. “b-but sir.. y-your wife?” yn tries to reason with him not wanting to be with another married man. “i’m divorced” yn felt like the preoccupation he was carrying was lifted off of his shoulders, but still he can’t do this, or he can? after all, he's single right now.

yn’s lips wrapped taut on jackson’s thick cock, he struggled to swallow it all but nonetheless he kept on doing it, his tongue swirling on the other’s head and playing with his foreskin, the musky cologne making him feel dizzy. drool seeping out of his mouth every time he opens it to swallow more inches, like a hungry cockwhore. on occasions jackson would introduce his thumb to one side of his mouth to open it more. the top grabs yn’s head to mouthfuck him, jabbing his cock in faster thrusts that reach deep inside yn’s throat, turning it into his onahole for his own pleasure, a newly acquired sex toy for him to use whenever he wants.

yn’s ass hoped on jackson’s length, his hips rocking in circle motions while being balls deep with the other’s meat, “damn man, you’re boypussy is much more tight than i was told” slips from jackson’s mouth, “than you were told?” yn tries to question him more but jackson puts both his fingers on each side of his mouth as a way to push yn back to meet his thrusts, in consequence, fucking him harder than before. “shut up and just focus on pleasuring my cock”.

jackson’s shaft filled yn’s hole perfectly and the latter hugs it so tightly, not letting it go “fuck! you are going to rip my dick off”, he rambled, “you’re doing a good job with that hole of yours. wanna be my pocket pussy?” he’s grazing yn’s neck and torso, “what do you say?” he insisted, “being alone is boring, using my hand all day is not it you know. and your boypussy is the perfect size for me, look at it swallowing all..so naughty” he spanks yn. jackson pushes yn’s back towards his body, being a perfect position for him to move his hips slowly to pleasure yn and shower his neck with kisses and a little hickey right in the middle. “mind if i cum inside?” he asks for permission, “n-no do please. empty all your cum in me”. jackson cums, dick throbbing with every load shooted inside the other, his body jolting in pleasure while yn squirmed, feeling the warm liquid coat his insides, “so good” he whimpers, throwing his head back, tired. “i’ll lay you on the couch while i clean this mess. can’t leave my office reeking of cum and sex haha”. yn looks at his watch to see there’s only 15 minutes left, “i c-can’t i need to work”. “don’t worry i already talked with the principal and told him that you were discussing something with me so you have the afternoon free” he winked at him, who closed his eyes, falling asleep.

WEDNESDAY

“and that's all for today, students class is over”, they all cheered, gathering their backpacks to leave the classroom as soon as possible. yn did the same leaving the classroom and locking the door immediately after. he turned around to find hoseok greeting his kid – he's probably the most muscular of all the fathers. “oh hey mr. yn”, “hey mr. lee” he greeted back, “baby can you do me a favor and wait for me in my car, mom's there, i have to talk with your teacher”, the little kid nodded running to met with her mom.

‘the fucking talk, why all of them say the same shit”, at this point yn was suspecting something was happening with all of them, it's strange that three of them come here to talk to him back to back with two of them ending fucking his brains out. “i'm sorry i have to go to the restroom” he walks past him but is followed by the big man. yn enters a stall and waits there to see if the dad would enter the restroom too –and he did. “mr. yn don't be like that” he loosely unties the knot of his tie and discards his jacket, wearing only the white button shirt underneath that hugs his muscular body so well that if he flexes it would probably rip. “i don't have much time left, get out of there”. “i'm pissing” yn replies quickly. hoseok frowns waiting until the other is done with his necessities, that were obviously fake because not a single sound was heard.

the heat started to get unbearable for both, more for yn who was inside the stall, “fuck!” he pushes the door open just to find the other man shirtless, using the white shirt as a fan to cool himself down, sweat beads caressing his toned torso and firm big pecs. ‘like what you see?” he mutters seeing how yn just stood there with his mouth agape, “do something about it then”. it was like something else possessed him, yn threw himself towards hoseok, latching his lips on his nipples. “why were you playing hard to get. we both know you like getting dicked down by married men”, yn looks at him with doe eyes, shaking his head in a no motion. “no need to lie with me” he grabs the back of yn's head to push him harder against his chest, “don't stop until they're red and hard” yn nodded, using his other hand to knead on the other peck, pinching and flicking his fingers on the other bud, that begged for attention too.

“good” hoseok praises seeing how his nipples were swollen thanks to yn's sucking. “my turn” he utters pulling down yn's pants and boxer at once, making him put a leg on the counter while the other remained stretched –touching the floor. “i'm paying back the favor with this little friend here” he blows some air towards yn's hole making it clench on nothing, “won't stop either until it's all puffy and red” he immediately buries his face in between the other's glutes. his tongue licking long stripes, circling around the tight rim of muscles, leaving it coated in thick saliva. “let's make this pretty hole slick. it need it for later” he says as he spats on it prodding his fingers on it every time to make sure some saliva coats his insides too.

the puckered hole clenched on hoseok's tongue, he takes it as a way for him to say that he wanted more than that and who was he to deny him the pleasure of feeling his length inside him. “give me your cock” yn moaned, “your tongue does wonders but i need more. also someone's waiting for you out there”. with no warning hoseok puts it in and start to thrusts immediately, “tighter than my wife's” he expresses, his hand sneaking to find yn's mouth to cover it and muffle his moans while the other remained on his hips, nails turning white due to the strong grip he has on him. same thing happening to yn, his knuckles turning white when he grabbed the counter, trying to endure the top's feral thrusts.

suddenly the phone rings, it was hoseok's wife, he makes a “shh” sign towards the mirror for yn to see and he nodded, using one of his hands to put more pressure on hoseok's hand that was already covering his mouth. “hey” he says, “are you done with the meeting? our daughter is getting bored, she wants to go home and sleep”, “yes yes honey” even though the pace of the thrust calmed down he still gave each one hard, his stiff hard cock pummeling his walls, “i'm just finishing some details with mr. ln and that's all, wait a bit more”, “okay love, i love you” to which he responds with a “love you too” hanging up. “you heard, we don't have much time left, move that ass and make me cum” he spanks him, making the bottom roll his eyes.

hoseok’s right hand placed on yn's left glute, grabbing a fistful of it, his nails buried on them –he use it as a way to make yn meet hus thrusts. “do you want my seed, mr. yn?” his breath tickling the back of yn’s flushed neck. “tell me…”, he leaned on top of yn's body, his weight and muscles pressing against him. hoseok's cock brushes yn's prostate in continuos jabs that made him cum hands-free.

“please i can't anymore” yn rolled his eyes back. “i won't stop until your filled to the brim with my seed”, hoseok pushes yn's head against the mirror, his breath making the reflective surface become foggy with drool spilling on it. hoseok finally grunted like a wild animal, his hips pistoning against yn's ass with every rope of cum he shooted inside the other. “fuck yeah. that's what i'm talking about” both hands gripping hard on each side of yn's hips, his body finishing to ride his high –dick still buried inside yn. “come here” he turns yn's head towards him to kiss him, “this won't be our last time” he slaps his cheek lightly but then spanks him hard on the ass, the sound echoing in the empty place, his red handprint starting to appear on it. he stayed on the bathroom counter, sighing and trying to regain some strenght.

THURSDAY

yn was walking outside the kindergarten, when he crossed the entrance minhyuk was there, back against the wall with his kid on the side, “hey” he said. yn turns his head to his side to see him there. minhyuk hands him a card with the name of a motel on it, “6 PM” he was about to leave but yn stops him, looking at him confused, “what?”.

“what what?” minhyuk retorts, annoyed, “why do you give me this?” –yn asks confused. minhyuk sends his kid to enter his car, “don't act confused” he laughs “you're that type of whores who loves to act like they're not but walk around with a gaping hole dripping with cum”. “pardon me?” yn starts to get annoyed but then his face turn pale when minhyuk shows him his phone, in the screen was a video of him being fucked by hoseok on the bathroom, “how did you get that?” he tried to snatch his phone but failed, “if you want me to delete it go to that place, 6 PM, room 13, we're gonna have so much fun” he grabs his bulge in front of him, “it's big, how whores like you like it” he winks and leaves. yn stood there not knowing what to do, then unexpectedly a quite scary grin appears, his face turning dark and serious “if you wanted to fuck just say it dammit. these dilfs would become my perdition” his face turning red, legs pressed together trying to hide a growing erection “dreams come true indeed” he laughs to himself walking towards his house, quite catching what was happening with the dads and him.

“it’s too obvious they’re all somehow connected to this, i mean they’re friends after all… might be some type of challenge their horny asses made” yn hisses at his phone, on the other side of the line was jungwoo, hearing his friend’s fuckventures. “so what are you going to do about it?. are you going to report them or something?”. “nah man, it’s a game i can play too” he laughs, “i get my fun now then i’ll see what to do”. “don’t get your slutty ass into trouble yn” jungwoo warns but the other shrugs, “don’t worry jungwoooo” he slurs the last vowel –gaining an annoyed scowl from him who just hung up the phone.

he knocks on the door, standing outside room 13 waiting for it to be opened. seconds later the door creaks open, there was minhyuk with just a rob on, no signs of underwear either, applying some body oil on his chiseled abs and huge pecs, the dim light of the room making them shine. “come in” he yanks yn and throws towards the bed, “let’s see what are you made of” he expresses.

sex toys were scattered around yn’s handcuffed and blindfolded form –each hand on each side of the bedpost– legs spreaded open wide with his hole being teased with a pink dildo with some textures on its shaft, minhyuk pours some lube directly on yn’s hole and introduces his digits one at first and then two –moving them in a scissoring motion, trying to stretch him. after a considerable amount of fingering –or so he thought– minhyuk pushes the tip of the dildo inside the other, eliciting a moan from him. the texture of it scrapping yn’s insides, a sensation he has never felt before, “are you enjoying it?” minhyuk asks but not a single word comes out of the other’s mouth, just moans that he tries to swallow, not letting the other know if he was enjoying it or not. “a bit bratty hmm?” his hand picks up the pace, pushing in and out the texture dildo with a lot of speed. yn’s body spasmed in pleasure, he tried to press together his thighs but minhyuk –way stronger than him,didn’t let him do that, “you should've responded before when i asked you. bad boys deserved to be punished”.

suddenly the older stopped with the merciless thrusts, drool coming out of yn’s open mouth –his mind racing with thoughts of what was going to happen next, was he going to be rougher?, another toy?. he feels something wrapping around his dick it was… tape and what he felt like a solid object with a stretched ovoid shape, then something similar is pushed inside him, then the dildo again is put inside. “what are you doi-” a sudden shock turned yn into a moaning mess –his dick and hole were being stimulated at the same time with vibrators. guttural moans and whimpers filled the room, “yeah? that’s what i like when bitches are very vocal while getting railed”, his hard cock forming a tent on the rob, eager to taste that hole, it was leaking incredible beads of precumm, guess he’s not able to ‘practice’ this with a lot of people… maybe he has found his perfect match?.

he pumped his dick while staring at yn, seeing his form squirm in pleasurable pain makes him lick his lips, he felt so good right now that if keeps jerking off he surely would explode and make a mess of cum in the room. the vibration were at the maximum setting, yn can’t form a single word, feeling overstimulated –his brain fogged with lust.

then the vibrations stopped but as soon as it did yn’s dick spurted big ropes of cum painting his torso and even parts of his face, “you can deny all you want but your body says the truth, you’re enjoying this” minhyuk murmurs. pulling out the vibrators he then introduces a set of anal beads, each of the balls swallowed by the gaping hole until it’s only the pullin cord left outside, yn was getting ready for him to pull it out all by once but nothing happened –until he just feels minhyuk ramming his dick inside the already stuffed hole, the tip of his dick pushing further and further the beads, slicking them in precum. “y-you are a psy…psycho” yn manages to speak again, “fu…cking sadist”. minhyuk laughs tsking, “but you love it, don’t you?”.

his hips never stopped pistoning into yn’s hole, it grips on the thick shaft tightly as if in doing so it would milk him quickly, but minhyuk was a beast not only for his well-defined body but because he has a lot of stamina so he can lasts hours on bed. this was a problem for him because he barely met people who can match his lustful nights but he’s seeing that yn is holding on good –a good sign. his hips moved on their own at this point, focused only on the pleasure yn was giving him. the top uncuffed yn but with his left hand he hold ‘em together pushing them above yn’s head while with the other he removed the blindfold. yn’s eyes glassy and red, tears smeared around them, he wiped them –whispering a quiet beautiful proceeding to kiss him.

his hips rocked a few times more until his cum flooded the stuffed hole of the other, minhyuk pulls out –his shaft covered in thickish cum— he spreaded yn’s legs to see him pushing out the beads by himself one by one, with the help of the cum acting as a lube that helped them slip out easily. “looking at this gaping boypussy squirting these balls and my cum made me so horny again”. minhyuk pulls out the remaining beads and quickly puts his dick inside again, jabbing his dick quickly. oh boy this is going to be a long night for yn.

FRIDAY

“it’s so late and daddy isn’t coming” the little kid said with a bored expression, he was standing out og the gates beside yn –her father was supposed to be there to pick her up and take her home, 20 minutes later and he was nowhere to be found. “where do you live?” yn asks her. “it’s like very far away from here” she sighs and then told him by singing a little song, “my mommy said that if i ever get lost i could remember our address by singing this song”. “cute. you did so well” yn compliments her, “i’ll take you home then”. yn and the kid took a bus that passed near their neighbourhood. “i wonder why daddy didn’t came for me” she says with a sad pout, “he’s maybe just too busy” yn responds, “oh right, let me call him” yn takes the phone out of his pocket, searching on his contacts the name hyunwoo.

“hello?” yn speaks, his greeting being answered on the other side of the line, “sorry mr. hyunwoo i’m yn, your daughter’s teacher”. “yeah i know” he answers, “tell her i’m already near the kindergarten, i lost the track of time due to my work”. “don’t worry mr. son, i took a bus with her and we’re heading home now. she was just eager to see her mom so i decided to help her get home, sorry” yn mumbles that last word. “ooh it’s okay then, i’m going towards there right now. tell her i’m very very sorry that this won't happen again… tell her i love her so much”, “i’ll do it don’t worry”, he hangs up and proceeds to communicate hyunwoo’s words to her daughter, her mood lifting a bit after hearing it. they got out of the bus and walked towards her house –grabbing their hands, she’s jumpin’ happily while yn looks around, stunned to see such big houses with pretty gardens and bushes it’s like a neighbourhood that came out of a luxurious tv show, “so beautiful” he exclaims, amazed by it…

minutes later hyunwoo arrives at home, apologizing to his wife and daughter and offering yn to take him home, as a token of gratitude. the ride was silent until hyunwoo decided to break the silence, “you know i’ve been hearing things about you”, he looked to see any reaction out of yn but he didn’t move, nothing –he wasn’t fazed at all. it’s weird hyunwoo thinks, he should’ve said or done something, he’s not nervous… it’s like he doesn’t care at all.

“if you want to fuck me just say it. there’s no need for all that foreplay act” yn bluntly says. hyunwoo eyebrows arched in surprise –he thought this was going to be hard but it isn’t. yn knew that this was coming, he has been fucked these part four days by his student’s fathers, there’s obviously some messed up shit tangled on this events, and he just accepted it –it’s a win for him at the end of the day.

hyunwoo gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand, while the other found it’s way to yn’s thigh, “okay” he gripped it tightly too. he drives near a secluded area, turning off the engine of the car –he pulls a lever that made yn’s eat to lean back, he swiftly undoes the seat belt and then pins his hands above his head, “prep’d already or do i just put it in?” he asks. “your friends have been prepping this hole these past days for you to use… i think you can just put it in. appreciate it if it’s lubed tho”. “backseat, now!” hyunwoo demands.

hyunwoo undoes his buttoned up shirt, letting yn see his chiseled body and huge pecs –”oh god” yn utters, kneading the chest muscles, grabbing a fistful of them and laying with the nipples, all meanwhile hyunwoo pulls out his pants and slicks his cock with saliva. he unzips yn’s trousers and pulls them down, along with his underwear, his big fingers grazing the skin of his ass and circling them around his hole, that pulsates with every touch. their mouths clashed, the kiss was rough, teeth clashing as hyunwoo takes the lead, his hand roaming under yn’s shirt while the other fingerfucked him – three fingers inside, moving in a scissoring motion, showing that he indeed didn’t need to prep him. the scent of hyunwoo’s manly musk plus the mix of sweat and leather filled the car, the windows became foggy thanks to it. inch by inch hyunwoo’s cock went inside yn, he also nipped at his neck leaving some little marks on it –yn whined, he was already missing the sensation of having a cock up his ass but thankfully hyunwoo was pleasing him right now.

hyunwoo thrusts hard –causing the car to move– hyunwoo’s full weight pressed against yn, folded in a mating press. the back seat’s leather slicked in their sweat, making the surface sloppy, their bodies flushed against each other, fulfilling their questionable pleasures. hyunwoo wasn’t gentle, he was fucking him like it was a primal instinct, raw and rough, his big and veiny arms positioned on each side of yn, caging him while his hips didn’t stopped jabbing at his hole, he would stop some times to spit more on his shaft and slick yn’s hole in the process too –same spit tha would come out of his ass every time the top pulls out, causing a pool of it to form on the seat, the cycle repeating again with hyunwoo spitting once again.

yn melted, his heart racing, craving every single caress and word from hyunwoo. he fucks rough but there’s a tenderness hidden on his caresses, the way his hands moves and touches every inch of the bottom’s body is completely different on what he does down there. his thumb circled around both of yn’s sensitive nipples, mouths never leaving each other –they spent the whole time kissing, hyunwoo’s tongue did wonders inside yn’s mouth, his lips felt like heaven when they’re pressed on yn’s skin. hyunwoo made sure to bury his cock deep every time he goes inside, yn felt cockdrunked, begging hyunwoo to go harder, deeper, rougher.

windows foggy with hand prints, seats drenched in sweat filling the car with musk of sex. hyunwoo bottomed out one last time, balls deep before flooding yn with his thick spooge, a loud growl accompanied with curses and moans rumbled on yn's ears –it surprised him how vocal he was while cumming. “fuck that was something!” he spoke after riding his high, his cock slipping out with a pop sound, he then fingerfucked the cum back inside “make sure to not waste a single drop. don't know when's gonna be the next time”, he grins.

—

“how’s the job going?. is it good?” jungwoo spoke to his friend, on the other side of the call, yn answered –weirdly “hmm.. yeah it is hngh!… i-ahhh i'm enjoying it” he managed to mutter. “are you ok, yn?” worry laced on jungwoo's tone, “i am, just… i stubbed my toe and hurts like… hell”.

jungwoo chuckles, “silly yn tsk tsk. be careful next time” he hangs up shaking his head playfully “so clumsy” he murmurs.

yn hangs up too, saliva dripping on the phone's screen, “good boy, you did so well” jackson praised, “you deserve another one” he then proceeds to put his cock near yn's mouth that was already being filled with hoseok's. “we're so lucky to finally meet a whore that can handle us all. he has such a hungry pussy and mouth” minhyuk uttered, his cock pummeling its way inside yn's ass along with minho's.

“now i need to find a hole to put mine” hyunwoo voiced, “put inside his hungry boypussy, bet he can take three at the time” hoseok expressed. “you're right, let's see how i'll make it fit” hyunwoo excitedly went near minho and minhyuk, thinking of ways and positions to put his dick inside their new pretty sex toy.

[smithblitz]

☆▪︎•°☆▪︎•°☆ Jackson Wang boyfriend material ☆▪︎•°☆▪︎•°☆

Jackson sent you this photo to your phone, with a text something like "Sending you some of my kisses so you don't forget me and dream about me baby, hahaha, I certainly miss you :(".

[kathaelipwse]

GOT7 | Headcanons

Theme: Members As Friends And Lovers

Requested by: @canigotosleep--plz

Warnings: Fluff and just fluff, Neutral gender!reader, my personal opinions!!!

Word Count: 1.0k

Mark Tuan

❀ As a Friend:

The type to listen quietly and then drop the most insightful advice.

Will send you a simple "You good?" text instead of asking too many questions.

Always down for a spontaneous road trip or late-night drive in silence.

The one who remembers your favorite food and orders it for you before you ask.

Rarely starts conversations but always responds when you need him.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Acts of Service & Quality Time.

Prefers subtle physical affection—hand-holding, thigh touches while driving, and soft back hugs.

He’s not the type for over-the-top gestures, but he makes sure you know he loves you through actions.

Might not say "I love you" often, but his eyes show it every time he looks at you.

Loves watching you when you’re not paying attention—he thinks you're the most beautiful when you're just being yourself.

The kind of boyfriend who lets you nap on his chest and absentmindedly plays with your hair.

Lim Jae-beom

❀ As a Friend:

Looks out for you like a protective older brother.

Roasts you all the time but will fight anyone who actually upsets you.

Is the first one to notice if you’re stressed and forces you to take a break.

Would drive you home at 3 AM just to make sure you’re safe.

If he says he’ll be there for you, he means it—he’s as loyal as they come.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

Super touchy but in a non-obvious way—lingering hand touches, resting his hand on your thigh, or pulling you close when walking.

Lowkey enjoys cuddling but won’t admit it—he just “accidentally” falls asleep with you in his arms.

He might act cool, but he’s obsessed with kissing you, especially slow, deep kisses.

If he’s jealous, he won’t say anything—he’ll just pull you closer and make sure everyone knows you’re his.

Finds excuses to touch you, like fixing your hair or tracing small circles on your back when sitting together.

Jackson Wang

❀ As a Friend:

The ultimate hype man—your biggest cheerleader in life.

Insists on FaceTiming you instead of texting.

If you're sad, he’ll take you out for a fun adventure to cheer you up.

Will introduce you to every single person he knows and brag about how amazing you are.

Gets over-the-top dramatic about everything just to make you laugh.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

Super affectionate—hugs, kisses, and hand-holding all the time.

He has zero shame about PDA—if he loves you, the world should know.

Loves lifting you off the ground when he hugs you.

Needs constant physical closeness—he’ll drape himself over you from behind like a human koala.

If you’re apart for too long, expect a dramatic “I missed you so much!!” the moment he sees you again.

Park Jin-young

❀ As a Friend:

The mom friend—he always makes sure you're making smart decisions.

Likes intellectual conversations and debating random topics for fun.

Pretends to be serious but actually has the best sense of humor.

He'll send you book recommendations and expect you to discuss them with him.

If you have a problem, he’ll help you solve it logically but with a side of sarcasm.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Words of Affirmation & Quality Time.

Prefers small, meaningful touches—a hand squeeze, brushing your hair away, or a soft kiss before leaving.

He’s not the type for over-the-top PDA, but in private, he’s incredibly soft and loving.

Loves slow, deep kisses that last longer than expected.

Would rather whisper sweet things in your ear than say them out loud in front of others.

Writes you letters when he’s feeling sentimental but acts like it’s “not a big deal.”

Choi Young-jae

❀ As a Friend:

A literal ray of sunshine—his energy is contagious.

Always sending you memes and dog photos to brighten your day.

Will drop whatever he's doing if you need help.

If you're sad, he’ll hug you until you feel better (and maybe write a song about it).

The most genuinely happy for your successes.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

Loves cuddling—he could stay in bed all day just snuggled up with you.

Will randomly grab your hand and swing it back and forth while walking.

Likes to playfully boop your nose or poke your cheeks just to make you laugh.

Gets shy when expressing feelings but his touch says it all—soft, lingering, and full of love.

The type to hug you from behind while you’re doing something and just stay there for a while.

BamBam

❀ As a Friend:

Your fashion guru—always wants to go shopping with you.

Loves taking aesthetic photos of you for Instagram.

Teases you all the time, but if someone else does, he gets defensive real quick.

Randomly calls you just to gossip and catch up.

Will buy you a ridiculous gift “just because it reminded me of you.”

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Gift Giving & Physical Touch.

Always flirting—he loves seeing you blush.

Loves PDA but in a playful way—wants to make others jealous of how cute you two are.

Randomly grabs your face and kisses you just because he can.

Buys you expensive gifts but acts like it’s “no big deal.”

If you’re feeling down, expect a shopping trip and a fancy dinner date to lift your mood.

Kim Yugyeom

❀ As a Friend:

The gentle giant—sweet but surprisingly mischievous.

Always down for a random dance battle.

Loves sending you weird, funny TikToks at 2 AM.

The friend who carries your bags without you asking.

If you need a hug, he's got you covered—big, warm, comforting bear hugs.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

Loves touching you absentmindedly—playing with your fingers, resting his head on your shoulder, or leaning against you.

Slow kisses are his thing—deep, meaningful, and just enough to make your heart race.

Likes to wrap his arms around you from behind and sway gently.

If he’s lying down, expect him to pull you into his chest for cuddles without asking.

Prefers spending time together over texting—even if you’re just sitting in comfortable silence.

[ision]

MIDNIGHT PROTECTOR (~_~;)

ft jackson

☆¸¸ .•*★.

"Come on Jacks," you pleaded, whispering. The phone dial rang out a few more beats, and you hastily walked into the drugstore and out of the shadowed streets. The shop floor was busier than you had expected, what with the time being too late to be comfortable—some people may have well needed a last minute, urgent skincare fix.

You nodded at the single cashier manning the counter, meeting his eye for a second before he continued scanning for the customer in front of him. With another look through the shop's glass windows out to the street outside, you weaved yourself through the aisles of shower gels and blister plasters.

"Hey, what's up? It’s late, is everything ok" Your friend's voice cuts through the ringing, and you quietly breathe out in relief. You hear rustling in the background, the receiver assumably rummaging around his bedroom.

"Jackson, I just, just stepped out to grab some food from the CVS and—are you free? Were you slee—" You pick up one of the items on display, a scented candle, hand shaking slightly as you tried to read the packaging. "No no, it’s ok, what happened? Tell me," your friend presses, you feel your strained breaths unravel at his comforting tone.

You take a sigh, trying to collect your thoughts, looking around. "Umm, I think I'm being followed," you wrap your other, unoccupied arm around yourself. You don’t hear anything in reply. "There was, is, this man. He was standing outside the CVS when I got there, and then when I was done and left, he started walking behind me." You slowly turn your head towards the glass windows of the store, trying to catch a figure in the periphery of your sight. "Now l'm at this 24/7 beauty shop and I can see him outside, he's just looking at me." “I’m sorry to ask you so late but, could you come meet me? I don’t think I’m too far from where you’re staying,” you ask, starting to feel your chest tighten and stomach turn as the shadowed man faces your direction.

“You’re location’s on, right?” Jackson speaks up, “sorry, stupid question, of course it is - I’m on my way, give me like 4 minutes. Ok?”

You bite your lip, “ok, thank you,” you breathe out. Truthfully, you had forgotten your location share was even on. Jackson’s reminder takes you back to when he insisted you two always have location share on for each other, one of you had asked the other to do so because you were both away in different countries on holiday. It was a nice way to keep tabs on each other, whilst vacationing and just generally during busy day-to-day life. It’s the first time it’s ever come in handy for a situation like this, though.

“Keep me on the line, I’ll talk as I run,” Jackson’s voice cuts through. “Is the shop empty, is there anyone else there with you?”

“Yeah, a couple people browsing and some at the till.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, Jacks, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t pick—“

“I’ll always pick up, anyways, it’s no big deal, literally, bare minimum,” his speech comes out choppily, in staccato. You can hear his feet hitting the ground as he runs, but his breathing never hitches. “Can you hold on the line for just a minute, please? I’ll be back after,” Jackson asks.

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, staring at the paint starting to chip on your nails, and the line goes quiet.

You hadn’t met a long time ago, it had only been a few months since this housewarming party a mutual friend hosted in their fancy new apartment. There, you struck up a conversation after being introduced to each other, and you and Jackson clicked so well. Whilst being from two different worlds, you had a very corporate job whilst he lived a creative’s dream as a famous musician, you loved the same things. To an extent. And the things you didn’t share in common, had somewhat of a commonality too. He wasn’t a fan of a specific genre of film you liked, but he’d happily sit down to watch your favourite movie, without complaint.

After the first meeting went so well, you two quickly set up regular hang outs. You heard he loved a dish and wanted to try out a new recipe, so he came over for dinner. He had an event coming up, therefore he needed your expert eye on what outfit suited him and the event's dress code best. Also, it wasn't too long before your flatmate's cat fell in love with him, and you'd go on cat walks to the park together—in disguise of course.

A few minutes pass of you inspecting the bottles on display, your pretence keeping you occupied as you kept tabs on the man outside. “I’m back,” Jackson’s voice cuts through the call, his tone serious and stern. “I’m walking in now.” The call drops.

The doors to the shop slide open, and you turn to see your friend striding in. He’s adorned in all-black, some loose joggers with a black zip-up, the oversized hood hung over his head. He meets your eye, and rushes over to you.

His hair hangs low, the ends slightly wet from a shower, and he pulls his mask down a little to speak to you. “Are you ok?” Jackson’s eyes search you, his hand comes up to your shoulder. You smile at the way his frown twists in concern, “I am now you’re here, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, “don’t thank me, I said it’s the bare minimum. Besides, how could I even say no… sorry, I’m busy, ask him to stop following you? As if—” Jackson huffs. “Speaking of, that’s the guy? Following you?” He, subtly, nods pointedly at the figure outside the window. You’re both standing somewhere deeper into the shop, no one can see you from the outside in. And, Jackson made sure to slow his walking down before turning the street corner, he wasn’t about to lose the perpetrator before he could even get him caught.

You nod, “yeah, I, I noticed he had his hand in his pocket, he kept reaching into it a couple times—I don’t know, I’m probably just being paranoid—but I think he had something in there,” your fingers fidget, clasping around your phone. You watch as Jackson’s brows furrow, his hand drops from your shoulder. “We’re staying until the police come,” he says, finally.

“Police? You called them? When?”

“I put you on hold, remember. Anyways,” Jackson takes the bag in your hand from you, filled with snacks from the CVS, “do you want anything from here, it’s on me.” You walk further into the store, looking up and down the aisles together aimlessly as you waited on the police to arrive. If you ignored the shadowed creep outside, this moment felt domestic. Your bag was even slung over his shoulder. Despite your friendship only being relatively new, you felt you had known Jackson for ages. And, there were always twinklings of other things below the surface every time you met each other. Sometimes they were moments of lasting eye contact, other times, goosebumps after lingering touches or brushes of hands. You were still feeling each other out a little, though, taking it slow to build up feelings until they’d become too strong to ignore.

Jackson looks up, noticing something from the corner of his eye, “stay here for a second,” he tells you. “Don’t move.”

You nod, intrigued as you watch him walk away. He strolls out the store, and you see him walk up to some figures in uniform. Two men. Jackson talks to them, points in another direction, and the officers walk up to the shadowed figure, Jackson looking on. The stalker attempts to make a run for it, but unfortunately for him, doesn’t get too far before the officers hold him down and detain him. The scene moves so quickly, too quick for you to process and before you blink, the officers take him away and Jackson walks back into the shop and stops in front of you.

He smiles down at you, “let’s go, I’m walking you home.”

As you walk down the street, you chat away about your day at work, updating him on some recent office gossip about a work-couple. You don’t pay much attention to the way Jackson scans your surroundings: the way he moves closer to you ever so slightly, the way his hands ready to pull you back in case a cyclist nearly runs you over as you cross the road, the way he checks to see how you’re doing, only to get distracted by the way the warm street lights make your face glow.

It’s only when he hears a bunch of rowdy teenagers run past the two of you, that you register the way his arm wraps around your shoulder, bringing you in closer, shielding you. You look up at him, much closer now than before, your brows raised a touch, “oh, thank you.” His arm around you feels heavy, but warm, and you thank him silently for not dropping it afterwards.

Jackson keeps his arm there for the remainder of the walk home, carving its presence. He keeps it there until he walks you to your door, and keeps it there until you ask him if he’d like to come in.

[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!

[breakmeoff]

Platonic Soulmates │"like a normal friendship but cooler"

pairing: jackson wang x platonic fem!reader

warnings: swearing, crack, fluff, emotional support

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you and jackson have been best friends since he debuted with got7 in 2014. being a few years older and experienced in the kpop universe, you always acted as a mentor of sorts to him and you quickly became his 'emotional support human'.

note: this fic was an anonymous request and i hope i did it justice! this was my first sfw fic for jackson, so hopefully it isn't awful. as always, thanks for reading. :)

Masterlist

Jackson stood outside your apartment door, knocking a few times, and waited patiently for you to open the door.  After twenty seconds, he tried knocking again.  Still… nothing.  So, knowing exactly where your spare key was “hidden” above the door frame, he reached up for it and unlocked your door.

Once inside, it was obvious that you couldn’t have heard him knocking over the commotion you were making in the kitchen and the loud lo-fi vibes coming off of your speaker.  Jackson shut the door behind himself, slipped off his shoes, and pocketed your key before he wandered to where you were.

Stepping up to the kitchen island, your back to him as you were focused on something on the stove in front of you, he silently pulled out one of the barstools and sat down, just watching.

Finally, you turned around to grab something off of the island and you saw him.  Shrieking, you dropped the wooden spoon that was in your hand, splatters of soup now dotted along the floor by your feet.  “SHIT, what the hell Jackson!”

Jackson leaned back in his seat and just laughed at your overreaction.  “You didn’t come to the door when I knocked,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in justification.

Bending down, you picked up the spoon and tossed it into the sink before grabbing a dish towel to clean up the sauce on the floor.  “You know, just because you know where my spare key is doesn’t mean you have to use it.”

“Hmm, true, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to see you like this.”  He mused, watching you trying to regain your composure.  

Reaching into the utensil jar to the side of the stove, you grabbed another spoon and went back to the pot of food.  “You just have a sixth sense for when I’m cooking or something, huh?”

Standing up, he walked around to the side of the kitchen you were in and peered down into the broth.  “As tempting as that normally would be, I think I’d rather not get food poisoning thanks…” he said, sneering down into the concoction you were making.  Furrowing your brows at him, you lifted the spoon and flicked a small amount of the liquid at his face.

“Ahh!”  he said, wiping his face with a chuckle.  “Deserved.”  Moving to the side of the counter, he placed his hands on the top of it and pushed himself so he was seated nearby, feet dangling as he watched you.

“Y’know what I don’t get?”  You started, looking up to his face with a quizzical expression on yours.  “You have your own damn place… why are you always here??”

“Rude…” he countered, playfully glaring at you.  Reaching forward, he moved one of his fingers to brush your hair out of your eyes.  Jolting away, you swatted the spoon in his direction, trying to get him to move away.  “Dude, fucking relax… I’m just trying to fix your hair so it doesn’t get in the food, so hold still.”  Jackson said, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Fine fine,” you sighed, taking a deep breath.  “See, I’m chill.  All good.”  

Jackson rolled his eyes at you, leaning forward to finger some of the liquid off the side of the pot and popped it in his mouth.  “Hmm… this actually isn’t all that bad.”  With the same spoon, your new weapon of choice, you hit the back of his hand with it teasingly.  “Why are you here again now anyway?”

“God forbid I just wanted to see my best friend…” he said before pushing himself off the counter, crossing a few steps to open a cabinet for a glass.  “...but I do have a favor.”  He finally admitted, stepping over to the refrigerator to fill his glass with filtered water.

“Theeere it is,” you joked, looking over your shoulder at him.  “Go on, what is it this time?”

“I got invited to a thing and I don’t have a date.”  Jackson replied, filling his glass without looking over to you.  “So do you wanna be my plus one?”  Finally turning around, he leaned back against the fridge and watched you.

“What thing did you get invited to?”

Lifting the glass of water to his lips, he took a sip before replying.  “My launch party.”

Resting the spoon down beside the stove, you turned to fully look at him.  “I don’t think you get invited to your own launch party… like, I’m pretty sure there’s no party without you.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I’ve heard.  So.  You wanna go?”

“Jacks,” you paused, looking at him with a concerned expression, folding your arms against your chest.  “You know I’d be going regardless, but what’s this really about?”

Bringing one of his large hands to his face, he rubbed down the front of it and sighed.  Something about 11 years of friendship made it easy for you to read him like a book, and while it sometimes drove him insane, most of the time he was grateful that he didn’t have to pretend with you.  

You and Jackson met in 2014 when he officially debuted with Got7.  There had been some sort of JYP celebration event, and you were immediately taken by the bravado and humor of the gregarious 20 year old.  Having debuted with your own girl group roughly three years previously, you understood the industry and the pressures he and his group would be going through.

In your own group of 4, you were known to be the most outgoing, so it came as no surprise to anyone when you made the first attempt to introduce yourself to Jackson and Got7.  While some of the other male members were shy and uneasy with your gregariousness, Jackson instantly found a bond with you and shortly you two became inseparable.  

There were of course rumors that something was going on between the two of you as you were seen together so frequently, but truthfully, there was nothing there other than mutual respect and admiration.  

Jackson quickly became your dongsaeng and you his noona.  Only those who spent time with the two of you knew the truth, that you were really just friends, and Jackson would always be the first one to tell the non-believers to go fuck themselves.

Over the years, not only did your friendship grow but so did your loyalty and support for each other.  When Jackson began struggling with his mental health and learning how to deal with the media, the record labels, and every other nay-sayer in the industry, you were always his rock and his constant.  Which is why he always came to you.

Groaning, he squinted his eyes shut and began finally admitting why he was here.  “I’m terrified everyone’s gonna hate MM2, Noona.  And I don’t wanna fuckin’ show up there alone and have people just bullshit me about it.”

You took a few steps over to him, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Jackson, you and I both know the blood, sweat and tears you poured into this album.  Everyone is going to love it.  And if they don’t?”  you paused for dramatic effect, “fuck ‘em.  You just gotta be a dick sometimes.”

He deadpanned and stared at you, unamused with your choice of words and throwing his lyrics back at him like that.  Though, deep down, he knew you were right.

“If you don’t go, I’m not going.” he finally stated, bringing his glass of water back to his mouth to swallow the rest of the contents.

“Dumbass,” you snorted, pushing his shoulder playfully as a small grin formed over his lips.  “You know I’ll be there, and I’ll drag your ass there if I have to. Like you’ve been telling everyone during the interviews, this album is about you and your stories.  You need to be the one who promotes them and celebrates them."

Jackson parted his lips to speak, but you kept going, not letting him get in a breath otherwise. "Seriously, own this, be proud of taking the risk of putting yourself out there and y'know what? Because you're being true to yourself, authentically you, people are going to respond in kind."

Turning his head, he placed the empty glass down beside him before he took a small step forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a bear hug as he placed his forehead on your shoulder. "Thank you. This is why I need you to be there with me."

With your arms around his shoulders, you held him tightly, reassuringly. "No other place I'd rather be. Besides, the only person that can be a dick to you is me - so stop taking my job." You teased.

Pushing you back playfully, he nodded his head and clapped his hands together. "Alright, it's a date."

"Good," you said, stepping back to the bubbling soup. "Now shut up and grab two bowls and sit down."

"Yes Noona," Jackson smirked, following your directions like he'd always been trained to do.

tag list: @angel-writes-here @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @berfgrimm

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[mykoreanlove]

Acts of intimacy

Eyes shot open as you woke up from your slumber. It took you a minute to realize where you were. This was not your room, not your bed, not the scent of your home but everything fell into place as memories of last night clouded your vision.

Jackson and you ended up at his place, getting to know each other on a whole new level. Greedy kisses, lustful touches and heavy moans filled his walls for hours, until the two of you were too exhausted and had to take a break.

From the moment you met him you assumed he was a passionate lover but he outdid all the expectations you had of him. He did his hair style justice as he showed you his two prominent sides: the dark, dominating, hard one and the light, romantic, intimate one. Jackson was far from ordinary, but so were you.

And now he was laying behind you, still sound asleep. You felt his naked body on yours. Memories of you kissing every ab of his followed by sucking him off made you blush.

Suddenly, Jackson shifted and hugged you, pulling you closer to him. His big hands held you tightly, just like they did last night. You swore you could still feel his grip on your hips, the skin would definitely be bruised. He caught you by surprise as he murmured in his sleep. You couldn’t understand a word, you were too preoccupied with the deep tone of his voice anyway. You adored his voice, especially when he used it to demean you.

„You like being fucked like that? What a bad whore you are.“

Just thinking about it made you wet. Jackson must have sensed it as he slowly woke up, too. His voice was even raspier than before.

„Baby, are you up?“

You nodded.

Jackson felt you up and stopped at your tits, kneading them thoroughly. „I can’t believe what we did last night“, he chuckled amused. You felt his cock grow hard again, pressing into you. „Fuck, I want to go again but I’m so tired. Are you?“

His voice was soft and deep from exhaustion. You placed your hand on his and guided him down to your pussy, making him feel your wetness. Jackson sucked in his breath, less exhausted now.

„Baby, you’re insatiable“, he whispered into your ear as he played with your pussy. Circling, sliding, stretching - he was finger fucking you, making you melt within seconds. You grabbed his wrist for stability as you buckled your hips, loud moans escaped your pretty lips once more.

„Fuck, you’re so good for me. My sweet little whore.“

And with that you came all over him, again. Jackson smiled into your neck, leaving small kisses on your damp skin.

„I really like making you feel good like that, y/n. Can you make me feel good, too?“

You would have done anything for him. Quickly, you wanted to turn around but felt him blocking you moving.

„Stay that way. I want to slide into you from behind and… sleep within you. Is that ok?“

You giggled at the idea. „Your dick wants to sleep in my pussy. Is that it?“

Jackson nodded. „Please. Keep it warm in your pretty tight hole for me.“

You pressed your ass against his hips, signaling him to do it. Jackson let out a deep grunt as he pushed himself in you easily, your pussy was welcoming him dearly with your warmth and wetness. „God, you have no idea how good that feels“, he praised you once more.

For him, this wasn’t a kind of cockwarming, no to him this was an act of intimacy - something he craved dearly and finally found in you. You moved your hips, unsure if he had found the best position yet.

Jackson’s hands landed on your hips immediately, holding you in place firmly. „If you keep moving like that we won’t be sleeping anytime soon, Princess. Give me some time to refuel, okay? I promise I’ll make you scream my name before breakfast.“

[natalicss]

this is me asking the universe, aka tumblr writers, to feed me more got7 x reader i have an obsession

i’m a simple woman, alright? i am easy to please i swear…i love the one-shots, i love the fake texts, i love the social media au, im eating it all up

k but pls more mark fics i beg-

[leftoverpizzasauce]

— ‹𝟹 worth the trip.

jackson wang x reader

summary: after a year-long hiatus, jackson struggles to balance his return to work with how much he misses you.

other jackson texts: baby love

[spacequokka]

In My Bed

Pairing: bf!Jackson x Reader Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Suggestive Rating: M Summary: Jackson fell asleep when he planned to surprise you. Word Count: 0.7k, Request Warnings: dry-humping

After a grueling day at work, all you wanted to do once you got home was shower and get in bed. The never-ending stream of conference calls and meetings punctuated with answering emails left you drained mentally and physically. However, when you opened the front door and spotted a familiar pair of sneakers sitting on the shoe rack, you were immediately invigorated.

Jackson was home!

You all but dropped your stuff on the bench as you kicked off your shoes. It was quiet save for the hum of the ice maker in the freezer. Maybe he was asleep? You tiptoed down the hallway and sure enough, the light of your life was laid out across the bed on his stomach using his arms as a pillow. His expression was a picture of serenity as he snuggled your favorite hoodie. Your heart swelled with affection. How does he continue to surprise you with his cute little habits?

There was no telling how long he’d been home, but you needed your hugs and kisses. You crawled over to his side and laid beside him, gently prying his hands away from his head then forcing your way against his chest. In the midst of your shuffling, he woke up groggy and sluggish as he registered what was going on.

“You’re home?” He blinked slowly, then looked at the window. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost five.” Seeing as he was awake, there was no point in being gentle. You rolled him over onto his side and pulled his arms around you. His scent filled your nose, and you sagged with relief, savoring his warmth. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be home today? I would’ve met you at the airport.”

He chuckled at your whiny tone as he drew you close and planted a kiss on your forehead. “I wanted to surprise you. Actually,” he drew back and kissed your lips, “I wanted to show up at your job and take you out for lunch. I guess I underestimated how tired I was and how much I missed our bed.”

You forced a pout, just barely keeping yourself from smiling. “The bed? What about me?”

“Oh, hush. You know I hate being away from you this long.” He hid his face in your neck. “Why do you insist on being all strong and independent? You could come with me! See the world and join the mile high club and stuff.”

You laughed. “Why do I get the feeling the sex is the motivating factor?”

“No, no. It’s a perk. A bonus, if you will.” He kissed your neck, letting his lips linger. “The motivation is having my beautiful girlfriend with me. It’d be so much better if I could wake up with you in my arms.”

You squirmed against him when his teeth skimmed over your sensitive skin. “I’d ruin your image and hurt your sales.” You bit your lip when his fingers pressed into your skin, holding you still as he put his thigh between yours. “Ah, shit. Wait, Jackie. I need a shower.”

His chuckle made it clear that wouldn’t be happening. “Performing isn’t my only source of income, baby. I can stand to lose a few, especially if it means I get access to you when I get off the stage.” He groaned and pressed his hips against you, drawing your attention to his growing excitement. “It’s been too long since I last had you.”

“But I wanna be squeaky clean for you.” Your squirming only served to increase the friction between your bodies, coaxing him to return the favor by rolling his hips and grinding his erection into your stomach. “Jack, please.”

“Ugh, I hear you.” He loosened his hold. “But if you need one, then so do I.”

With the haze of desire messing with your mind, it took you a minute to process his words. “If we slip and fall in the shower, it’s your fault.”

He smiled wide with glee as he hauled himself to his feet. He held his hand out to you, ignoring the tent that had formed. “I’ll make sure to take the worst of it. Now come on, I need you now before I bust in my pants.”