#fluff! jaebeom

[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."

[vad-hander]

I Love You More

pairing: Jaebeom x reader

others: Jinyoung, GOT7 members

genre: fluff

warnings: idol GOT7!au, married couple, pure softness, crying

Words: 1,1k

______

short soft one-shot inspired by GOT7's concerts this weekend and them being so emotional and crying and saying a lot of things that tore my heart apart. Jaebeom will always hold a very special place in my heart and I was excited to write this! I haven't written for got7 in years, so let me know, if you're interested in more

alsooo, I've never posted anything this short, so let me know if you enjoy stuff like this and I should be doing more of it!

_____

You stood in the corner of the waiting room, your eyes trained on the only man that actually mattered in your life and as the teardrops streamed down his pretty face your heart squeezed in an attempt to pump blood into your head and steady out its beats. Your heart ached, but you held back from crying  in this moment with him - if he’d see your tears you knew it’d be an undying contest of emotional breakdown and you didn’t want him to go through that. You loved him too much. He only ever deserved love, happiness and much easier life than he was living now. 

Jackson patted Jaebeom’s head and the staffs that filled the room tried to continue with their duties, but also be mindful of 7 crying and sobbing men in the centre of that room. Your gaze shifted to sobbing Mark and the way teared up Youngjae and Bam tried to calm him down. At least this view wasn’t tearing your heart into pieces. As a figure approached you, though, you had to readjust your eyes and focus on the man in front of you. The very next moment Jinyoung’s very warm hand grabbed yours and pulled you behind him. He felt your resistance and turned around, reading your face expression perfectly.

"I think he really needs you to calm him down." Jinyoung pulled onto your arm once again and you followed. "Hey, Seunah" Jinyoung called out in an attempt to whisper, but making it more of a low growl. Jackson, raising his head and seeing Jinyoung pulling on to you took a step back. Giving you space to come closer and giving you two space for privacy. Jaebeom raised his head a little, as he felt the loss of contact and took a few blinks to focus his teary eyes on you. Both Jackson and Jinyoung respectfully took a few more steps back and as you approached Jaebeom a little more, you couldn’t hold back a pout. Jaebeom straightened his back properly and it seemed the tears streamed down his face at a much lower pace. You pursed your lips and took a little step closer, not forgetting precaution and turning around to read the room - everyone seemed busy with themselves and their duties. But in all honesty - you couldn’t just stand and watch him any longer, even if the people watched you two attentively - your heart ached the moment you saw that first tear fall down his face back on stage. 

“You did so well-.“ You still whispered, everyone acted busy, but peoples’ ears were always perked up. Jaebeom blinked more tears down his face. Shit, you only made it worse for him. “Everything went so perfectly. You worked so hard. I’m so proud. These should be happy tears, everything worked out amazing. Right?“ you tried to give Jaebeom a smile, your words only made the tears fall down harder, while Park Jinyoung expected you to do the opposite. “Ah-, love, don’t cry.“ You finally sighed and reached a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and making a lame attempt at catching the teardrops - it did seem impossible. The waterfall that streamed down his face was impossible to stop with a finger. Jaebeom leaned in into your touch and closed his eyes. You tried to caress the softness of his cheek, while not making it too inappropriate for a working environment. “Everyone’s so proud and everyone are so thankful for the things you do. You’ve put so much hard work into this, it’s okay to cry. I can’t even hold back my tears for you and ah-.“ Jaebeom suddenly draped his arms over your shoulders and lost his face in the crook of your neck. You patted his nape in a very weak attempt to calm him down. He seemed crashed, drained and exhausted. You really wished you could lift him up just like that and transfer to bed and let him get as much sleep as he needed - doesn’t matter if its 12 hours or a week. You watched him work so hard all these weeks to make the concerts possible, you watched him all those years make all those things possible while also being a sweet and loving husband to you. “I just hope it’s tears of relief. As long as they’re not tears of pain - it doesn’t matter. We could cry all night long, right?“ You tried to give him a little kiss, forgetting all the work space boundaries in your head, landing your lips on his jaw. You patted his nape a few more times, moving your arms lower - you gave his waist a squeeze and rubbed your face against his shoulder - the sobbing man in your arms seemed to calm down at least a little. 

“I love you.“ you breathed out, somehow in unison with Jaebeom and as shocked as you were at the silly little coincidence, Jaebeom moved back a little and looked at you properly, with no tears falling out of his eyes,  beautiful irises focusing on you. 

“That’s silly of us.“ You giggled, moving your fingers to dry out the tears on Jaebeom’s cheeks. 

“But I, definitely love you more.“ He even made a weak attempt to smile and made you feel more at ease yourself. The air suddenly felt lighter and the second time he tried to make that little smile - the smugness on his face, your chest burned with love. Jaebeom covered your palm with his and moved it closer to his mouth. “I wouldn’t be here without your support.“ You knew exactly what he meant by that, how hard it was for both him and you to get his mind to a better place. You weren’t about to shy away and act like you weren’t behind it all. In a great partnership with the man himself, of course. 

“I know.“ You accepted with a playful nod and watched his lips give your palm a kiss with a smile. You were glad you could refer to dark times with a joke and a smile now. Jaebeom let go of your arm and tried to dry his face with the shirt he wore. 

“Ah!“ Jinyoung materialised behind you, his firm palm on your shoulder making you jump in place. “Nothing like a wife’s touch that could calm a man down.“ He teased happily, wrinkles round his eyes as he smiled were the reason for a little upward motion on the corners of your lips. 

“Sh! Shut up, there are strangers in this room.“ you hissed at the man, feigning annoyance. Jinyoung ruffled your hair with a teasing face expression.

“Hey, show some respect.“ you played back, your unending battle of teasing continuing every time you opened your mouths.

“Right, show some respect to my wife!“ Jaebeom chimed in, regret on his face immediate, as the both of you knew the comeback would be explosive. Jaebeom wrapped an arm around your waist, you not being sure whether he was backing you up or wanted you to back him up in this.

Jinyoung, though, already moved on -  looking at the members and then at his leader and giving you nod. 

don't forget to like and follow for more <3

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

got7 as supermarket cashiers:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[maskedcrawford]

Connection

Jackson Wang x Reader

Summary: It's been 10 years since you and Jackson seen each other, what happens when you both get cast in a K-Drama playing friends to lovers?

A/N: My first Jackson Wang fic! Thank you to my darling Anon who requested this! I hope I portrayed him correctly. Let me know if this wasn't what you wanted.

Requests are OPEN

You’re sitting in the makeup chair, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the first scene of the day.

“Oh, man it’s nice to meet you,” you hear a familiar voice say and your eyes snap open to look over at none other than Jackson Wang. Your jaw slightly drops as the makeup lady is trying to finish your lips. She puts the finishing touches on and you hop out of the chair walking over to him.

“Jackson?” your voice is unsure. He looks over at you and his eyes grow wide.

“Oh my god! Y/n?” he walks over and embraces you in a huge bear hug. You giggle as your return his embrace.

“It’s been what, 10 years?” he asks as he looks you up and down.

“You look beautiful as ever,” you blush slightly at his compliment.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time, you look great.” You once him over as well, really appreciating what you see.

“So wait, what are you doing here?”

“I’m playing the lead male role,” he runs his hands through his hair nonchalantly.

“No way! You’re my costar?” you smile wide and he raises his brows.

“I guess so,” he laughs.

“All right, you two. Let’s get you here, and y/n you’ll be at the bar, here.” The director moves you and steps out of the frame. The scene begins and you sip on your drink, looking around with your legs crossed. Jackson walks over slyly slipping into the seat beside you. You glance his way, getting a nice view of his side profile. He looks over at you and on cue you turn your head.

“And cut!” you hear. You feel his eyes on you, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him directly right now, fearing he’ll realize the blush you’re carrying upon your cheeks isn’t fake.

“And action!” You sigh with a drop of your shoulders.

“My name’s Minho,” the blonde says as he walks in your line of sight. You look him up and down dramatically before taking another sip.

“Mhm,” you nod, “I’m Yejin,” you give him a dazzling smile. Jackson notices the way it reaches your eyes; he returns the gesture.

“Would you like to dance?” he offers his hand out to you and, as scripted, you set the drink down and take his hand.

“Are you from here?” he quirks a brow.

“I live over in Busan,” you say as you both hit the dance floor. The music is fast paced, you turn your back to his chest and he talks in your ear.

“So what are you doing all the way out here?” his tone is playful and you bring your bottom lip between your teeth for real

“I wanted a change of scenery,” you pause and turn to face him with your arms around his neck. Jackson’s eyes grow wide as this wasn’t scripted, but keeps his hands around your waist.

“And I found a nice one,” you wink and he smirks.

“And cut! Nice improv y/n,” the director compliments. You and Jackson are still wrapped up together for a moment too long before you realize it’s time to change the scene.

“Hey, how about we grab lunch together today? My treat,” Jackson asks.

“Sure, it’d be nice to catch up.” You give him a genuine smile before parting ways temporarily. He has a solo scene, one where his character must act like he see’s yours everywhere before calling her, and you watch him closely. You both make eye contact a few times when he’s supposed to be ‘seeing’ you. You offer him an encouraging smile to keep going and he does, very professionally.

“All right, let’s break for lunch!” the director announces after the scene gets a few takes. Jackson rushes over to you.

“I’ll meet you back here?” he offers and you smile with a nod. You both get changed into more normal attire before meeting back up at the mentioned spot.

“You wanna head out the back?” you both go to walk out the front door, with a security guard to your front and back, and per usual the k media is outside waiting. You hear a flurry of voices and cameras, and Jackson instinctively takes your hand, wading through the crowd with you so you don’t get lost or overwhelmed. You both slide into the waiting car.

“You ok?” he asks once you’re both settled. You nod.

“I’m good, you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” you half laugh.

“It never really gets easier, just something you grow to understand is part of it,” he mentions. Once again you nod in response.

“So you and GOT7?” you nudge his side playfully and he smiles wide.

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck suddenly feeling flustered with how close you guys are.

“I know you’re excited to perform with them again. I mean Python? Such a banger,” you compliment and he looks at you surprised.

“Wait, you’ve listened to it?”

“Of course, just because we lost touch doesn’t mean I stopped rooting for you.” His eyes flash with genuine gratitude.

“I’ll always support you. I mean, we both debuted around the same time J, what’s the world coming to if you can’t support your friends?”

“I honestly thought you had forgotten about me,” he says sheepishly.

“How could I ever forget about the guy who basically saved me from getting cake all over my brand new stage outfit at our first after show bash?” You both chuckle at the memory.

“That was a great party,” he reminisces.

“And they time,” he starts with a laugh, “Where we were on that variety show,” you both start to laugh uncontrollably.

“The one where you had to constantly repeat everything for me a little slower because I couldn’t understand him,” you chime in. You both are in fits of laughter when the car stops outside the restaurant.

Over lunch the two of you talk about past memories, your current lives and plans for the future.

“So, what’s this I hear about a girlfriend?” you ask as you take a bite of your food.

“What girlfriend?” He does the same.

“So, it’s a rumor then, good to know,”

“Why is that good?” His voice is teasing and you can all ready tell where this is going. Back when you two debuted you and Jackson were always teased like you had a crush on each other. Multiple times there were rumors that you two dated but the most that happened was a soft slow kiss between you two one night after a little too much to drink when celebrating a great show. It was chalked up to a drunken mistake, to Jackson at least, but it still replayed in your head more often than you’d like to admit.

“No, I mean,” you sigh with an embarrassed smile on your face as you hide it with your hands.

“What you mean is, you can’t stop thinking about that passionate kiss we shared that night,” he says in a dramatic tone, trying to lighten the mood of the moment.

“Oh, so you still think about it?” you tease and he tosses his head back in laughter, trying to hide the blush on his face.

“I missed you,” he says after a moment, “A lot.” He glances up from his plate.

“I missed you too, Jax.” You both go silent for a beat, but before the tension can get too awkward, he looks at his watch.

“We should get back,” he stands up and puts the cash on the table for the waiter. You turn to grab your wallet.

“I said it was my treat,” he tuts. And you slowly stop rummaging through your bag.

“I don’t expect you to pay,” you say as he takes your hand again and leads you out.

“And I don’t expect my lady to pay,” you both freeze for a beat before he looks back at you.

“I meant a lady, not-not my lady,” he tries to laugh off.

“No, I think you meant my,” you tease and you both walk out the door. Once again, you are led through a small army of paparazzi, Jackson’s grip on your hand is solid, not too tight, but secure.

You both get back in the car and are driving back to the studio.

“I really didn’t mean my,” he tries to defend.

“Whatever you say,” you tease once again and he smiles while shaking his head. You take a minute to really soak up the moment, to make it a clear memory. You both ride silently back to the studio where the rest of the day’s filming is set to begin.

The director approaches you both as soon as you walk back on set, so quickly Jackson hadn’t even had time to let go of your hand from helping you inside.

“We’re going to have you guys film the first kiss scene, so get to make up.” He informs you and you and Jackson share a look, one of uncertainty.

After you both get your makeup done you are both back on set with a rainy feel, they really were going for dramatic.

“And action!”

“Wait, I forgot my line!” You jog over to a woman holding the script and you review for a quick moment before nodding and going back.

“Minho!” you call over the sound of the fake rain as he walks off. He’s meant to be frustrated. Jackson looks back at you.

“What,” he shouts over the noise. His face is cold, angry. You run up to him like you’re scripted to do and smash your lips against his. He hesitates like he’s meant to. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, the cold water falling on both of you to dramatize the scene.

He puts his hands on your waist, his fingers slightly digging in. He kisses you back with passion, with need and desire; for a moment it’s not fake for either of you.

“Cut! Let’s run that again, I want multiple angles.” The director says as you two separate and stare at each other for a moment. The cameras move around you and you’re placed back in your original spot. Jackson’s face is blank. Meanwhile yours is flustered.

“Action!” is called again and you run through the motions once more. This happens a few times, each time you Jackson pull apart something flashes across his face that you can’t read. One last time the scene is done and Jackson makes a bold decision.

As your lips land on his he puts one hand behind your head and the other around your waist, and he takes his tongue, separating your willing lips to explore your mouth. You gasp quietly.

“Cut! That’ll do it! Let’s move on!” the director shouts. You both pull away slowly and stand there amidst the commotion around you. You stare into each others eyes for a long moment before you’re suddenly pulled away from him. The rest of the day you shoot a scene where you’re constantly replaying the kiss in your head, and if you were honest that didn’t take much acting. The kiss replayed during takes and in between. You couldn’t look at Jackson during the scene or you’d blush.

The worst part? You couldn’t hardly sleep that night without dreaming of it. You knew there would be other scenes where you two kissed but for some reason you hadn’t expected it to leave this much of an impression. The next few months are spent filming, and as a result, you and Jackson both rekindle your friendship.

-

Over the next few weeks, you and Jackson rekindle that lost friendship and tonight you’re at his house as this is one of the biggest episodes in the show. You’re both sitting on his couch when the scene comes on. Both of you get really still and focus on the tv. The episode ends with the kiss and you both groan.

“Talk about a cliff hanger,” you giggle. You expect Jackson to agree but he’s sitting there, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

“J, you ok?” He scoffs with a half laugh.

“Yeah, I,” he takes a deep breath.

“Actually, no I’m really not.” You set the bowl of popcorn down on the table and turn to face him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he mumbles with a hand combing through his hair. He doesn’t meet your gaze, rather he looks at the floor, as if something far more interesting could be down there.

“About,” you ask trailing off.

“It,” he shrugs.

“The kiss.” His tone is low, shame filled almost.

“And I’m sorry, you’re my friend, but it’s the truth,” he rubs his face, still not able to look you in the eye. You don’t have any kind of expression nor do you say anything.

“Y/n?” he asks timidly.

“Yeah,” you breathe processing the information he just laid at your feet.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” you admit and his eyes snap up from the floor to yours. You both look at each other in silence for a brief moment before Jackson moves closer to you, hesitantly, like he’ll jump at the slightest unction of any discontent from you. He glances at your lips. You notice his hesitation and close the gap between you. Your lips interlock in a passionate kiss that sends electricity through your body and your heart races.

His hands find your waist and he gently tugs you to him. You slide on to his lap and straddle his waist as your hands find his face to cup it. You break apart, only for the reason of needing air. You both smile and rests your foreheads together, his hands holding you as if he let you go, you’d disappear.

“Remind me not to let you go,” he laughs quietly and presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

If you enjoyed, consider buying me a coffee

Masterlist

[spacequokka]

It's the (Right) Time

Pairing: Jaebeom x Reader Genre: fluff, humor Rating: G Summary: Doing the White Elephant gift exchange with Jay B and the boys. Word Count: 0.6k Warnings: None, just meme7 doing their thing.

A/N: Can you guess which song the title came from?

"Play White Elephant with us," they said. "It'll be fun," they said. Honestly, you should've known better considering who was involved. Since when has GOT7 done anything with an ounce of control? The second the last person invited to BamBam's place walked through the door, drinks were passed out and chaos ensued. You ended up sitting cross-legged in a circle with the boys, clutching your carefully wrapped package—a vintage record player you found at a flea market—hoping it wouldn't be the most memorable gift for all the wrong reasons. It wasn't impossible to find vinyl records…right? You added it to the pile while the guys fought over snacks and refills.

"Number seven!" BamBam called out with way too much enthusiasm, waving the little paper slip. You took it with trembling hands. Seven, last pick. That could ever be really good or really bad. You crossed your fingers.

Jackson was practically vibrating with excitement then drew number one. "First pick! The universe loves me!" He kissed the slip of paper then crawled forwards on his knees to survey the pile of presents in the middle of the circle. Each one was wrapped in different patterns of holiday paper, but the designs chosen hinted at who wrapped what. After much deliberation and dramatic pointing, Jackson went for a small box wrapped in silver.

The game moved quickly after that. Youngjae picked a tall gift back and found a mini karaoke machine inside, which Mark immediately stole. Jinyoung carefully selected a medium-sized box that turned out to be a rare book collection, which made his eyes light up. BamBam ended up with a designer scarf after three different steals, and Yugyeom somehow landed a set of limited edition Deadpool plushies.

Then it was Jay's turn, right before yours. He studied the remaining two gifts with that intense focus he usually reserves for reviewing song lyrics. His gaze landed on your package and you held your breath. The record player would be a perfect fit for him--you lowkey picked it with him in mind, knowing he already had a collection.

"This one," he muttered as he reached for your gift. Of course.

You watched as he carefully peeled back the paper, his eyes widening when he realized what it was. "No way," he breathed, running his fingers over the vintage wood. "This is…this is incredible." It's the look in his eyes that does it, a tender joy that leaves him with a barely there smirk.

You're last and there's only one gift left—a squishy package wrapped in red and gold. For a minute you panic. Soft gifts in a game of White Elephant can mean trouble. Inside, you find the softest fleece hoodie you've ever touched, clearly oversized and perfect for winter.

"That was mine," Jay scoots closer to you. When you look up, he's smiling gently in a way that makes his eyes crinkle. "Seems fair, doesn't it? You got my gift, I got yours."

"Did you know?" you ask, wondering if somehow he'd guessed which present you bought.

He nods, still smiling. "As their leader, it's my job to keep an eye on everything going on." He glances at the record player then back at you. "How did you know I've been looking for one exactly like this?"

"I didn't! I saw it—"

"Okay, but can we talk about how I ended up with socks? Socks?!" Jackson launched himself across the circle at Mark. "I trusted you!"

The room erupted with laughter. Jay caught your eye again, mouthing a silent "thank you" before getting to his feet to wrangle Jackson back to the couch. You pulled on the new hoodie. It smelled faintly of vanilla and coffee, just like him. Sometimes the best gifts are the ones you don't plan for.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Unhappy Trail

Pairing: Lim Jaebeom x female reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: body touching (not sexual), mild nudity, suggestive chatter at the end

Word count: 711

Author’s Note: I’m still devastated by the lack of happy trail in Jaebs’ showcase photos.

Snuggling in deeper under your blankets, you sighed sleepily. It had been a long day, and you were more than ready to nod off and get as much sleep before the daily grind returned for you in the morning.

You felt the mattress dip on the other side of the bed, and your body, despite how languid it felt, still moved in its usual ministrations. Jaebeom shuffled closer and your closest hand was already sliding over his naked upper body, feeling its way along his shoulder and over his pectorals, slowly descending his torso towards its usual resting place. For the longest time, you have found comfort in placing your hand in the same spot, and tonight was no exception. Your partner held his breath, which was different, as if he were bracing for your reaction. It was as if Jaebeom had forgotten to warn you about something until in the moment, confusing you momentarily. Was there something wrong with his body?

Your hand faltered over the top of his abdominals, and you peeked out of one eye. A dark stare looked back at you, a sheepish smile gracing his mouth.

In response, you dove your hand down further, Jaebeom sucking in a deep breath. Your fingers traced the smooth skin, searching for its usual comfort blanket.

“Y/N!” he gasped, trying not to laugh at your frantic pace over his skin. “Calm down.”

“Why did you shave it off?!” you lamented, sleep all forgotten about. Sitting up, you reached for the lamp beside you and flicked it on before turning your incredulous stare back to your lover’s exposed body.

If you hadn’t been so worked up, you would have laughed at the irony of your man now trying to cover himself up, when he was usually the most comfortable in his own skin when he was showing it off to you. Jaebeom let out an exasperated breath before replying with, “You know my showcase is tomorrow night.”

“And?”

“And I’ve been getting my body ready for my idol comeback,” he explained, and you nodded initially in understanding the logic.

Except, over this, you didn’t truly understand.

Jaebeom had never really cared about his happy trail. He’d been through so many scenarios during his career, both intentionally and not, where his torso had been exposed. In fact, you had an extensive photographic collection of the area on your phone – for scientific reasons, of course. You knew he had his own plethora of parts of your body on his devices too. And the dense bedding your hand usually slumbered within was always there.

Until now.

“It’s apparently more common these days as part of a strict image plan,” he mentioned with a shrug as you frowned. “Noona-Mindi said—”

“At least I now know who to murder,” you seethed, and Jaebeom laughed heartily, pulling you into his embrace and holding you tightly.

“No murder.”

“I’m serious! Your skin is so smooth there. Did you even shave it?” you wondered, and Jaebeom winced. You yanked back enough to look at him. “Did you get it waxed off?!”

“I can assure you that it’s not an experience I want to do again,” he confirmed, reaching under his armpits where you also noticed the lack of hair.

“The idol lifestyle isn’t for the weak,” you murmured, gently stroking his cheek with your hand fondly. Jaebeom leaned into your affectionate touch, rubbing into it as if he were one of your cats.

“It’ll grow back,” he pointed out, and you huffed, your hand pausing in doling out the love. Jaebeom attempted to make it move by rubbing his cheek more energetically into your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, giving in and obeying his need. He grinned. “We all know it won’t take long.”

“How am I meant to sleep without my routine?”

“Seriously? I thought you put your hand there because you…” He trailed off to smirk.

You gave him a filthy look. “Lim Jaebeom!”

“What? Isn’t it there for an early morning greeting?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“For that, I won’t be using my hand down there until it grows back!”

His expression turned to liquid sin. “So… your mouth then?”

“You are seriously not worth all this trouble.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

[mymegrokosmos]

"And l'll be on the way in the middle of the night. There's something in the way you be running my mind. If you want me to stay for the rest of my life. You got me, you got me."

Just a little Jayb drabble inspired by middle of the night by Monsta X bc these lyrics won't get out of my brain today.

You blink and take a minute to open your eyes, the sunlight is faint this morning through the curtains of your bedroom window and you smile as the arm draped around your waist tightens a little at your slight movement. The breath on the back of your neck is still steady and you know he’s still asleep as you roll over to face your husband, pausing for a moment just to study his sleeping face. You barely get to see it so peaceful these days. He's been working so hard lately and all his important deadlines have been rushing up to meet you both. You reach up to smooth your thumb over his cheek, smiling to yourself as you press a kiss to the tip of his nose and finally drag yourself out of bed.

It's hard. He's warm and the weight of his arm around you feels right. You'd love nothing more than to stay, let yourself indulge a little, and go back to sleep cuddled up against his chest but you know if you linger you'll never leave. He slid into bed late last night so instead of waking him to shower together you let him sleep. He could use the extra thirty minutes. He's stirring when you step back out of your shared ensuite, and you stop for a minute to watch. It’s cute the way he tugs the blanket closer and nuzzles into your pillow, already more on your side of the bed than his own. You smile to yourself as you dress and silently slip out to the kitchen.

It's harder to be quiet here. The coffee machine makes more noise than you'd like but there's nothing you can do about that so you just hope he'll sleep through it a little longer. You’re humming to yourself as you make breakfast for two, checking your watch to make sure you're not losing track of time as you cook. You hear hum shuffling around as the omelettes start to sizzle in the pan and shake your head. He always knows when you've gotten up first and you never manage to actually finish your plans. That's okay, you think, sipping at your first cup of coffee as the shower turns on. You’re not in a rush.

Your phone sits docked at the small portable speaker, his playlist going as you cook. It was his idea, something about how you're alwaya dancing around the kitchen singing to yourself anyway and he wanted to keep seeing it. You shake your head at the thought and it’s just as you're plating everything up that you feel his hands on your hips.

You don’t even try to hold back your smile as warm lips press softly against your neck, just once, and gentle hands fix the hem of your blouse. You lean into his solid chest as his hands smooth down your sides and come to rest around your waist, his cheek finding a home against your temple. He presses a kiss there too and you turn off the stove, one hand coming to rest over his forearm.

You stroke your thumb over his skin, squeezing once at the tanned expanse of arm revealed by the rolled up sleeves of his button down and tilt your head back to meet his brown eyes.

They soften as his expression melts into a small smile and you can’t help leaning up to kiss him, turning in his arms and grabbing his mug off the counter as you step back a bit.

"Good morning."

You can already see the amusement glinting in his eyes. "Good morning handsome."

He smiles as he takes the cup from you, one hand resting on your hip as he leans back against the counter and takes a sip. "What's all this?"

"Well, I was going to make my lovely husband breakfast in bed this morning since he's been so run off his feet lately but someone had other ideas."

He's grinning at you over the brim of his mug, hand squeezing your waist and sliding up to rest against your lower back instead. "Sorry honey."

He's not. You both know he isn’t. You shake your head and his hand presses against your back, inching you closer. "You have absolutely no regrets about ruining my plans this morning."

He sets the coffee on the counter, other hand coming up to brush your hair back out of your face. His eyes don't leave your lips as he tucks the hair behind your ear and smooths his thumb over your jaw. "Nope."

You bite back your smile but he catches it anyway. He always does.

"Lim Jaebeom."

You don’t get a chance to scold him further because he leans in and steals your breath with a kiss then. You know he’s distracting you but it’s working, so you let him. When he finally pulls back, one hand cupping your cheek, you sigh softly but the smile on his face is radiant.

"You're so lucky I love you Jae."

"I'll fix your makeup."

"I don't care about my makeup."

You tug him the slightest bit closer by the belt looped through his black slacks and he chuckles, breath ghosting over your lips. "Breakfast is going to get cold."

"We'll live."

You let him kiss you again, this time forgetting why you were annoyed to begin with, and when he pulls back to look at you the love in his expression melts away any anger. You mirror him this time, hand coming up to cup his face. He leans into your touch and lets his hands fall away as you take a step back.

"Breakfast first. If you're late today Jinyoung is never letting me hear the end of it and I promised your brothers I wouldn't kill him."

Jaebeom's laughter echoes, warmth spilling through your chest with the sound, as he pecks your forehead softly and moves to take the plates to your small kitchen table. "Well, we can’t have you breaking your promises honey."

"We could. I would just like to go at least one week this time. Please."

He's still smiling as you take your seats and start to eat. "So, what project are you working on today my love?"

[mykoreanlove]

the fluff bundle

for when you need that extra portion of love

CHAN - you make me blush // all the feels // sweet whispers // insecurities // channie's way of helping you relax

CHANGBIN - dummy dummy, i love your tummy // handle you

MINHO - 🥀🖤🌹 // hardships // sakura // alternatives

HYUNJIN - submissive // manifested // conditional // artist's pov

HAN - the extra mile

FELIX - fake date me please? // bokkie's quest for tears // angel // whispers of love // body dysmorphia // flirting in a club be like // reassurance // fitting room

I.N - pet names

CROSSOVER - perceptions (Chan, I.N) // amnesia (ot8) // shy dating (maknae) // shy dating (hyung) // sexual abuse

JINYOUNG - things that made him run to you // starved // i wanna know everything, all about you

JACKSON - 🥃 realizations // on Kinjaz // daddy fever //nightmares

JB - can I see you tonight?

NAMJOON - sexy brain wasn't having it

SUGA - 🏀 Ballin‘

TAEMIN - his private messages to you // I want to live a different type of life - with you // sleepy no more // don't leave my side no // Similarities // taemotional Support System // long distance //baby daddy Taemin is coming home to you // domestic vibe with Taemin // back to lovers // christmas with Taemin // paris nights

MINHO - deprived

EUN WOO - afraid of love

[agustdef]

Stress

Pairing: JayB/Lim Jaebeom x Reader

Genre: Light Fluff, Idol AU/Idolverse

Word Count: 760

Warning: One "cuss" word.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: Random little fluff piece.

“Go to hell!”

The shouting had been nothing but background noise until that was uttered. There was so much malice in it and it was very out of character.

YN’s head snapped up, eyes leaving the book she was reading to look across the room at her boyfriend. Anger was strong in his eyes and he was staring her down. Unconsciously she shrunk back and she could feel her heart rate pick up. 

“Me?” she whispered, her finger pointed at her chest.

That rage on his face dissipated and he quickly made his way across the room to her. He squatted down to her seated height and smiled at her. Or at least tried to. YN noted it was more like a grimace, which made sense seeing as he was pissed only seconds before.

His hand moved to caress the side of her face and she leaned into the warmth of it.

“No, not you, baby. Never you.”

Such soft words helped calm her down, despite the fact that she’d known that she wasn’t the intended target of the words. He’d been on the phone for almost an hour trying to work out some deal with a producer and things were at a stalemate. They both seemed to want the same things, but the other guy was being very anal about how to proceed and taking the ‘my way or the highway’ approach to things. Which was something Jaebeom was used to, but in this case he was putting his foot down so that no time was wasted doing things in such a convoluted fashion. Though with all the back and forth it was clear that time and energy would be wasted either way.

“I’m guessing this won’t be resolved before we leave?” she asked.

A loud sigh pushed past his lips and the anger filtered back in. Along with what appeared to be exhaustion. He shook his head.

YN set her book onto the end table and scooted over a little, patting the space beside her on the love seat. Like the million other times she’s done it, Jaebeom got onto the couch and placed his head on her lap. Her fingers slid into his hair with that same kind of ease, softly massaging his scalp.

“Do you want to cancel it?”

A response of no came in the form of a head shake.

“Push it back?”

Head shake.

“Shorten it?”

And another head shake.

None of those were the answers that she wanted to go with, but first and foremost she knew how much work meant to Jaebeom and wanted to be accommodating of that, especially when things were picking up in his solo career. Plus, despite all the work and fight he’d used to ensure that his group was able to keep their music and name, he wasn’t really that person in general. It was hard on him to always have to stand his ground and more so with him entering spaces where being an idol meant people thought they could take advantage of him in little ways or that he would just be agreeable.

Which is why YN was often one of the people in his corner who had to remind him his voice mattered and that if he saw something worth pushing for then he should do it without worry of the blowback.

“Ok, I have another idea. One I’m not sure you’ll like.”

He hums.

“You send him an email with all your points and what you don’t agree with about his. Then end it by telling him you’re going to be out of reach for a week. Then you can leave that phone here and come back to d…”

“Yes.”

She raised a brow, surprised he didn’t even let her finish and that he agreed without any questions. Which further proved how out of sorts the whole thing had him.

“That easy?”

“Mhm.”

Laughter escaped her and she leaned down, pressing a kiss to his head.

###

Calls, texts, and emails were almost in the hundreds when they got back home from their trip. Despite how clear Jaebeom was about he was going on his vacation and would be unreachable, it was enough to get the producer to pull his head out of his ass and be much more willing to come to a compromise. Which was the outcome that Jaebeom wanted the entire time. He wasn’t looking to be the sole decision maker, just to have his thoughts heard, understood and to find common ground to make things easier on both sides.

[pinkpunkdynamite]

I kinda got obsessed with this cutie for awhile

masterlist

an evening with Jaebum is an equality to comfort. it's a freeing moment, when he takes off his idol mask and becomes himself - a cute, smiling, and slightly tired of everyone's attention boy.

evenings together are always spent under the dim light of string lights and some stupid movie murmuring in the background.

while you are choosing a movie, Jaebum makes two cups of cocoa with marshmallows, softly giggling while he's looking how you suffer which movie is IT for today.

you're sitting comfortably under the blanket when he brings you your cup, slides his arm over your shoulders and brings you closer to his side. his fingers always trace some unknown pattern, skimming over your soft ticklish places. Jaebum always pretends that nothing is happening, as if both yours and his hearts don't skip a beat from the slightest touch.

he's whispering about his day in a hushed voice, making you actually listen to the story while he holds your hand tenderly and brushes his lips over your knuckles.

Jaebum muses a smile when you look up at him from under your brows, light scowl on your face because you can’t decide whether to look at him or at the screen.

overall, to him, all these evenings together are a small rehearsal for a big future life together 🥰

[kpopimaginings]

Goodnight Kisses - JayB

You knew JayB would berate you for still being awake when he got home, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Recently, you'd got into such a routine of going to be together that it just felt wrong trying to sleep when he wasn't there. You'd done everything you normally would before sliding under the covers, but without your  good night kiss and the warmth of your man beside you, you just couldn't drift off.

JayB always promised you you'd still get your good night kiss if you were asleep when he got home but it wasn't the same. When you heard the front door open, you had a brief debate with yourself as to whether or not to feign sleep. As his gentle footsteps approached your room you decided against it, opting to greet JayB instead. You could tell he was trying to be quiet as he entered but you spoke up.

"Jae?"

"Ah, jagiya, why are you awake?" he whispered. There was a slight smile on his face as he spoke, negating any air of annoyance in his words.

"Can't sleep," you complained. "Not without my goodnight kisses."

"Just let me wash up and get changed and you can have all the kisses you want," he replied.

You groaned and stretched your arms out in his direction, hoping to summon him closer.

He chuckled as he approached you, shaking his head. "You're always so clingy when you're tired," he said running a hand through your hair.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his fingers in your hair. All too soon he was pulling away again. Your eyes snapped open as you reached out to grab his hand and put it back. Unfortunately, in your sleepy state, JayB was quicker.

"I'm just getting ready for bed, jagi, then I'm all yours."

You still whined a little as he left you to head to the bathroom but you were for too tired to launch any sort of actual protest.

After far too long, he was climbing into bed behind you, enveloping you in his arms as a kiss was pressed to your shoulder.

"I love you, my needy jagi," he whispered.

You grunted at his teasing and snuggled further into his embrace.

There was a moments silence before you felt his finger tips digging into your waist and tickling you slightly. You squirmed but JayB didn't relent.

"Say it," he demanded.

"Who's needy now?" you retorted.

He tickled you again.

"I love you, too." You told him what he wanted to hear to stop the attack.

"That's better," he replied. "Sleep well."

With one last kiss placed gently on your neck, he held you tightly again, allowing you both to drift off to sleep, comforted by each others presence.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

[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!

[veethefreeelf]

JAY B Fic Recs

M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending

None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works

The Back-Up - one-shot, 12K - by @inyournightmares97 - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE - not mature but suggestive

The Leading Lady - one-shot, 11.6K - by @inyournightmares97 again because they have amazing works -> F / HpE

Chocolate Eyes - one-shot, 19.5K - by... you guessed it @inyournightmares97 because they write Jaebeom beautifully -> A / F / HpE

DREAMIN' - one-shot, 15K - by yes, again, @inyournightmares97 -> A / F / HpE

Illecebrous - one-shot, 2.9K - by @flurrys-creativity - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Mistletoes & Christmas sweaters - one-shot, 4.2K - by @flurrys-creativity again, just do yourself a favor and read all their works -> M / F / HpE

Moonlight Café - two-shot, 15.9K - by @milfgyuu - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Wet - one-shot, 8.2K - by @spacequokka - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Out of this World - one-shot, 11K - by @kpopchangedme - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

mistletoe? oh no! - one-shot, 6.9K - by @wonderlustlucas - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE

Bad Habit Series by @jae-daddy - full Masterlist - please go through their masterlist, their Jaebeom works are unbelievably good -> M / A / F / HpE

Please mini Series by @jae-daddy again because I ALREADY TOLD YOU THEY ARE AMAZING -> M / A / F / HpE

Vermillion Series (Ongoing) by @flowered-mp3 - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Far From Home Series by @red-exo - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

to kill an empire Series by @ahgaseda - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Fragrances & Lost Fragrances Series by @jj-ktae - full Masterlist -> minor M / A / F / HpE

Erotica Series by @jj-ktae again because their stories are absolutely brilliant -> M / A / F / HpE

HOLIC Series by @taexual - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

What I Wouldn't Give mini Series by @flowerbeom - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Tension - one-shot, 6.6K - by @flowerbeom again because they are a brilliant writer -> M / minor A / F / HpE

Dating Lessons - two-shot, 18.4K - by @parkhabits - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Five Minutes - one-shot, 7.2K - by @parkhabits again because they are an amazing GOT7 writer

Worth Fighting For - one-shot, 5.7K - by @prettywordsyouleft - full Masterlist -> minor M / A / F / HpE

Poets and Parties - one-shot, 5K - by @kpopfanfictrash - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Check Your Messages - one-shot - by @kwrittink - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

Taming The Brat Series by @deliriousscenarios - full Masterlist - THIS one is my favorite ever. I've re-read this more times than I can count -> M / A / F / HpE

Before Sunset - one-shot - by @mintjoonlep - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

INDEFINITELY Series by @noona-clock - full Masterlist -> A / F / HpE

hypnotic - two-shot, 23.7K - by @tuanhood - full Masterlist - this one is one of my absolute favorites as well -> M / A / F / HpE

[kcake555]

Jay B cake 🍰

got7

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

⟡ ݁₊ . got7 ⟡ ݁₊ .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ot7 imagines

♡ got7 as supermarket cashiers ♡

♡ got7 as my aura loss moments ♡

♡ got7 as teachers 👨‍🏫🖍️ ♡

♡ got7 as aromatherapists 🪔 ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Flight Log: Arrival (Review)

➳ back to main masterlist

[spacequokka]

Dye with Me

Enter a world where kings and princes find themselves unable to live without you, whether by choice or by force.

♔ Boxed Chocolates [F/A] - 0.8k - Prince Mark brings you those chocolates you like.

♔ This Dance [F] - 0.4k - King Jaebeom finally gets his dance.

♔ On Guard [A] - 0.9k - King Jackson wants to spar with his personal guard and childhood friend.

♔ Stars Collide [A] - 1.3k - King Jinyoung won't let you go so easily.

♔ Dancing with the Moon [F] - 0.6k - You share a dance under the full moon with Prince Youngjae.

♔ Nobody But You [H/T] - 1.8k - You learn your contract to kill King BamBam isn't exclusive, and being the petty merc you are, you make sure no one else gets the money either.

♔ Love You First [F] - 1.6k - Who wants to marry a man they've never met? Prince Yugyeom hopes to convince you he's worth it.

Completed 1.19.25