#lover!jinyoung

[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."

[kathaelipwse]

GOT7 | Headcanons

Theme: Members As Friends And Lovers

Requested by: @canigotosleep--plz

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

Word Count: 1.0k

Mark Tuan

❀ As a Friend:

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

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

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

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

Rarely starts conversations but always responds when you need him.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Acts of Service & Quality Time.

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

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

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

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

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

Lim Jae-beom

❀ As a Friend:

Looks out for you like a protective older brother.

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

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

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

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

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

Jackson Wang

❀ As a Friend:

The ultimate hype man—your biggest cheerleader in life.

Insists on FaceTiming you instead of texting.

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

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

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

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

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

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

Loves lifting you off the ground when he hugs you.

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

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

Park Jin-young

❀ As a Friend:

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

Likes intellectual conversations and debating random topics for fun.

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

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

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

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Words of Affirmation & Quality Time.

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

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

Loves slow, deep kisses that last longer than expected.

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

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

Choi Young-jae

❀ As a Friend:

A literal ray of sunshine—his energy is contagious.

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

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

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

The most genuinely happy for your successes.

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Words of Affirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

BamBam

❀ As a Friend:

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

Loves taking aesthetic photos of you for Instagram.

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

Randomly calls you just to gossip and catch up.

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

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Gift Giving & Physical Touch.

Always flirting—he loves seeing you blush.

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

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

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

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

Kim Yugyeom

❀ As a Friend:

The gentle giant—sweet but surprisingly mischievous.

Always down for a random dance battle.

Loves sending you weird, funny TikToks at 2 AM.

The friend who carries your bags without you asking.

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

❤️ As a Lover:

Love Language: Physical Touch & Quality Time.

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

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

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

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

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

[duachai]

Till' The World Ends - PARK CHANYEONG | SWEET HOME

In the midst of a monstrous apocalypse, former idol M/n is rescued by the military and brought to a safe base where protector Park Chanyeong takes him under his wing.

Your soul's half alive, and I'll be by your side, I've come to take you there, show you how to care

♱ PAIRING : PARK CHANYEONG (JUNG JINYOUNG) X MALE READER ♱ CONTENT WARNING : Slightly detailed gore, SPOLIERS (I guess?) ♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : I want to note I've only seen season 1-2 of this show, so I'm quite behind so if this makes no sense contextually that's why lol. ♱ REQUESTED : YES (ANON) - Can you pleaseseee write something for Private Park Chan-young from Sweet Home? Maybe something like male reader gets picked up off the street and becomes one of the soldiers along side of him and there's this big fight with the monsters and he confesses his love. Maybe also reader was and idol too. Thank you!!

LINKS : Wattpad

The air outside was heavy, thick with the stench of blood and decay. M/n stumbled through the wreckage, his breaths ragged as he tried to keep moving. His jacket was torn, caked in grime, and he clutched a makeshift weapon; a rusted pipe he’d picked up days ago. The world had long since crumbled into chaos, but M/n had refused to let it break him. Determined, but weary, he fought to keep going. 

The faint roar of an engine in the distance made him freeze. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned, squinting against the setting sun. A military vehicle approached, its headlights cutting through the haze. For a moment, hope flickered in his chest; a dangerous, fragile thing. M/n raised his hands, signaling for them to stop. He wasn’t sure if they’d help or just run him over, but he didn’t have much of a choice. 

The vehicle came to a halt. Soldiers spilled out, their weapons drawn, faces hardened. One of them barked, “Stay where you are! Hands where we can see them!” 

“I’m not infected!” M/n shouted, his voice hoarse. He dropped the pipe and raised his hands higher. “I swear, I’m clean!” 

The soldiers exchanged glances, their expressions skeptical. One of them, a tall man with a scar running down his jaw, muttered, “We can’t take risks. We’re stretched too thin as it is.” 

“Please,” M/n pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’ve been out here for weeks. I just- please, don’t leave me out here.” 

The scarred soldier scoffed, gesturing to the others. “We don’t have room for strays. Move out.” 

Before they could pile back into the vehicle, another voice cut through the tension; calm, but commanding. “Wait.” 

M/n turned to see him. Park Chanyeong stepped out of the vehicle, his expression unreadable. There was something in the way he carried himself; strong, deliberate, that made the others hesitate. 

“He’s not infected,” Chanyeong said firmly, his sharp eyes studying M/n. “Look at him. No signs of transformation, no erratic behavior.” 

The scarred soldier frowned. “That doesn’t mean he’s not a liability. We can’t afford-” 

“We can’t afford to lose more people, either,” Chanyeong interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “He’s a survivor. That counts for something.” 

M/n’s knees nearly gave out as relief washed over him. But the others weren’t convinced. “And what happens if he turns on us later?” one of the soldiers argued. “It’ll be on you.” 

“It’ll be on me,” Chanyeong replied coldly. “I’ll take responsibility.” 

The soldiers grumbled but didn’t push further. Chanyeong stepped closer, his gaze locking with M/n’s. “Get in the vehicle,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’ll be safe.” 

M/n hesitated for a heartbeat, as if waiting for someone to change their mind. But when no one did, he nodded and climbed into the back of the vehicle. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the seat, his heart still racing. 

Chanyeong joined him a moment later, sitting across from him. For a while, the vehicle was silent, save for the rumble of the engine and the distant cries of monsters in the wasteland. M/n dared to glance up, meeting Chanyeong’s steady gaze. 

“Thank you,” M/n whispered, his voice barely audible. 

Chanyeong gave a small nod, his expression as stoic as ever. “Don’t thank me yet.” 

It wasn’t exactly comforting, but for the first time in weeks, M/n felt a flicker of hope. He wasn’t alone anymore. 

The vehicle slowed as it reached the underground safe zone. The heavy steel gates creaked open, revealing a dimly lit corridor bustling with survivors. Soldiers on patrol watched with wary eyes, their hands resting on their weapons. The air was tense; too many people, too much fear, and too little space. 

M/n stepped out of the vehicle, his legs unsteady from both exhaustion and anxiety. As he followed Chanyeong through the narrow passage, he felt it; the weight of dozens of eyes on him. Whispers spread like wildfire. 

“Is that him?” 

“No way. He’s still alive?”    “He was there… the apartment complex.” 

M/n kept his gaze fixed on the ground, his jaw clenched. The memories of what happened at Green Home; the screams, the betrayal, the monsters; flashed through his mind. He didn’t want to remember. Not here. Not now. 

A small group of survivors gathered near the entrance, openly staring. One of them, a woman with dark circles under her eyes, took a hesitant step forward. “You were… an idol, weren’t you?” 

M/n didn’t answer, but the silence spoke for him. The woman’s expression hardened. “You ran, didn’t you? Back when things went to hell.” 

“I did what I had to,” M/n said quietly, his voice steady despite the weight of the accusation. 

Before anyone could say more, Chanyeong stepped between them, his presence like a wall. “That’s enough,” he said. His tone was calm, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. “He’s here now. That’s all that matters.” 

The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering under their breath. Chanyeong turned back to M/n. “Come on. You need rest.” 

They walked in silence until they reached a small, dimly lit room near the edge of the safe zone. Chanyeong opened the door and gestured for M/n to enter. It wasn’t much; just a cot, a chair, and a few supplies, but it was a haven compared to the outside world. 

M/n sat on the edge of the cot, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m wanted here.” 

“They’re scared,” Chanyeong replied, leaning against the doorframe. “Fear makes people lash out.” 

“You’re not making second guessed about me?” 

Chanyeong’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “No.” 

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. M/n looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Why’d you stand up for me out there? You didn’t have to.” 

Chanyeong’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “Because I know what it’s like to have people give up on you.” 

M/n tilted his head. “You mean before all this?” 

Chanyeong nodded, resting against the door frame. “I played baseball. Before the world ended, it was my life. But I made mistakes. Got injured. People stopped believing in me. Said I wasn’t worth the trouble.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. “I didn’t want to do the same to you.” 

M/n’s chest tightened. He’d spent so long feeling like a burden, like the world would be better off without him. But Chanyeong didn’t see him that way. 

“I used to be an idol,” M/n admitted quietly. “I loved it; performing, being on stage. But when things got bad at Green Home, all that didn’t matter. All people saw was someone who couldn’t protect anyone.” 

Chanyeong studied him for a long moment. “You survived. That’s enough.” 

M/n swallowed hard, emotion threatening to choke him. “Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like it.” 

Chanyeong stepped closer, his expression as steady as ever. “Then stay alive. Long enough to figure out what it does feel like.” 

The words weren’t comforting in the traditional sense, but somehow, they settled something deep in M/n’s chest. 

“I’ll try,” M/n said, meeting Chanyeong’s eyes. 

“Good.” Chanyeong gave a small nod. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.” 

The underground safe zone was a far cry from the life M/n once knew. The constant hum of generators, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the steady patrols of soldiers made the air feel tense and suffocating. Every day was a battle to maintain order amidst the fear of what lurked beyond the gates. 

For M/n, blending in wasn’t easy. The other survivors kept their distance, some out of fear, others because of lingering resentment. But he forced himself to adapt. He helped with chores, cleaned communal areas, and volunteered for supply runs; anything to prove he wasn’t just a burden. 

One morning, M/n found himself summoned to the central training area; a wide, open space lined with sandbags and obstacle courses. The air smelled of sweat and metal. A group of soldiers stood waiting, their uniforms crisp and their expressions unreadable. 

Chanyeong was there too, his arms crossed as he watched from a distance. M/n’s heart rate spiked, but he didn’t let it show. 

The scarred soldier from before, now identified as Lieutenant Kim, stepped forward. “You’ve been here long enough to catch your breath. Now it’s time to see if you can actually contribute.” His tone was clipped, full of skepticism. 

“What do you mean?” M/n asked, though he already had a sinking suspicion. 

“We’re short on fighters. If you’re going to stay, you need to be more than just a survivor. We need soldiers. Fighters who can defend this place if the monsters breach the gates again.” 

M/n’s fists clenched at his sides. “And if I fail?” 

“Then you’re just another mouth to feed.” 

Chanyeong’s gaze darkened, but he stayed silent. 

The first test was simple; a physical evaluation. M/n had to run laps around the training area, climb walls, and navigate through an obstacle course designed to simulate urban terrain. Sweat dripped down his face, his muscles screaming in protest. 

By the time he finished, his lungs burned, and his legs felt like lead. But he hadn’t stopped. He’d refused to quit. 

Lieutenant Kim gave a curt nod. “You’re determined. I’ll give you that.” 

The second test was combat. M/n was handed a dull training knife and pitted against a soldier twice his size. The fight was brutal; every swing and jab testing M/n’s reflexes. He dodged as best he could, but his opponent’s strength was overwhelming. He hit the ground more than once, his knees scraped and bloodied. 

“Enough,” Chanyeong’s voice cut through the tension. He walked over, his expression neutral but his eyes burning with something M/n couldn’t quite name. “You’re not training him to get beaten. You’re training him to survive.” 

Lieutenant Kim scowled but didn’t argue. “Fine. You take over, Park.” 

Chanyeong tossed M/n a water bottle before taking his place in the sparring ring. “Get up,” he said quietly. “Again.” 

M/n wiped the sweat from his brow and forced himself to his feet. His body protested every movement, but he wasn’t about to back down; not with Chanyeong watching. 

They squared off. Chanyeong’s movements were deliberate, precise. He didn’t go easy on M/n, but he also didn’t aim to break him. With every step and swing, he pushed M/n to find his limits and then push past them. 

By the end of the session, M/n was panting, bruised, and exhausted. But there was a spark of pride in his chest. 

“You did well,” Chanyeong said, offering a hand to help him up. 

M/n took it, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me,” Chanyeong replied. “You earned it.” 

Lieutenant Kim gave one last, assessing look before turning on his heel. “We’ll see if you can keep it up.” 

As the soldiers dispersed, M/n stayed behind with Chanyeong. The ache in his muscles was sharp, but there was something else; an odd sense of belonging.  

The underground gates groaned open, revealing the desolate wasteland beyond. The world outside the safe zone was eerily silent, the air thick with the stench of decay and abandonment. Concrete rubble and twisted metal were strewn across the landscape, remnants of humanity’s fall. 

Chanyeong led the group of soldiers, M/n walking beside him. It was M/n’s first mission outside, and the weight of anticipation hung heavy over him. He could feel the judgmental eyes of the other soldiers drilling into his back. 

“Don’t slow us down,” one soldier muttered under his breath. “He should’ve stayed underground where it’s safe.” 

Another snickered. “He’s not cut out for this. Idol or not, he’ll get someone killed.” 

M/n’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze forward. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. Chanyeong shot the soldiers a warning glare, but M/n shook his head. “Let them talk.” 

The group pressed on through the ruins, their boots crunching against broken glass and gravel. They were scavenging for supplies; a routine mission but one that could turn deadly in an instant. 

They hadn’t gone far when the first sound came; a low, guttural growl that sent a shiver down everyone’s spines. 

“Contact!” Lieutenant Kim barked. 

A monster emerged from the shadows of a crumbling building. Its skin was pale and cracked, its eyes hollow but filled with a ravenous hunger. It lunged with terrifying speed. 

The soldiers scattered, weapons raised. Gunfire erupted, but the monster was fast; too fast. It zigzagged between them, slashing with razor-sharp claws. 

“M/n, move!” Chanyeong shouted as the creature charged straight for him. 

Time seemed to slow. M/n’s heart thundered in his chest. The soldiers’ words echoed in his mind. Weak. A burden. Not good enough. 

No. 

M/n surged forward, a primal fury igniting inside him. He grabbed a broken pipe from the ground and swung with all his strength. The metal connected with a sickening crunch, sending the monster staggering backward. 

It roared, blood dripping from its mouth, but M/n didn’t stop. He attacked again, driving the pipe into the creature’s side. His strikes became relentless, each blow fueled by anger and desperation. 

The monster fell to its knees, but M/n kept going, the world around him blurring into a haze of adrenaline and rage. Every fear, every insult; it all exploded in that moment. 

“Enough!” 

Chanyeong’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. 

M/n froze, panting. His hands trembled, the blood-slicked pipe slipping from his grasp. The monster lay still, its body broken and lifeless. 

And then it hit him. 

He had killed it. 

The world tilted. M/n staggered back, his vision swimming. His stomach churned violently, and he collapsed to his hands and knees, retching onto the cracked pavement. 

Chanyeong was at his side in an instant, dropping to a crouch. He placed a steadying hand on M/n’s back, his touch firm but gentle. “Breathe, M/n. You’re safe now. Just breathe.” 

“I-” M/n’s voice cracked. “I killed it. I didn’t mean to-” 

“You did what you had to,” Chanyeong interrupted softly. “It was you or the monster.” 

But M/n couldn’t stop shaking. His hands were stained with blood; proof that he wasn’t the same person who had stepped outside those gates. 

“It’s different out here,” he whispered. “I thought I was ready. But I’m not.” 

Chanyeong knelt in front of him, their faces inches apart. His usual stoic mask had slipped, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “No one’s ever ready the first time. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.” 

M/n’s breath hitched. He wanted to believe Chanyeong, but the weight of what he’d done felt suffocating. 

Chanyeong reached out, wiping a streak of blood from M/n’s cheek. “Look at me.” 

M/n’s eyes slowly met his. 

“You’re alive,” Chanyeong said firmly. “You fought back because you wanted to protect us. That’s what matters.” 

For a long moment, they stayed like that; M/n sitting chin to his knees on the broken ground, Chanyeong steadying him. The chaos of the world faded into the background, leaving only the quiet connection between them. 

“Ypu’re not alone,” Chanyeong promised. “Not now. Not ever.” 

M/n swallowed hard, the knot in his chest loosening just a little. “Thank you.” 

Chanyeong helped him to his feet, his grip never faltering. The other soldiers approached, their expressions a mixture of surprise and respect. 

“Maybe you’re not all useless,” one of them admitted grudgingly. 

M/n didn’t respond, but he held his head a little higher as they made their way back to the safe zone. 

M/n leaned against the wall of the underground compound, his arms folded across his chest. The dim lighting overhead cast shadows on the rough concrete, and the air smelled faintly of metal and disinfectant. He had just returned from the mission with Chanyeong, his mind still replaying the moment he killed the monster. His hands were clean now, but he couldn’t stop seeing the blood in his mind’s eye. 

“Hey.” 

The voice pulled him from his thoughts. M/n looked up to see Jung Ye-seul standing a few feet away. She was one of the few civilians allowed to move around freely within the safe zone, her resourcefulness and sharp mind earning her respect among both the survivors and military personnel. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her sharp eyes locked onto M/n with a mix of curiosity and something harder to read. 

“You’re the one they found outside,” she said, her tone neutral but guarded. 

“Yeah. That’s me.” M/n’s voice was flat. 

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. “You were on the mission with Chanyeong earlier. I heard what happened.” 

M/n nodded slowly. “Word travels fast down here.” 

Ye-seul crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “You saved him.” 

“I did.” 

There was a beat of silence. 

“I guess I should say thank you,” she said, but there was no warmth in her voice. 

M/n raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound very grateful.” 

“I am.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “But I also know what happens when people get close to Chanyeong. They start thinking they can rely on him too much. They make him a crutch. And Chanyeong’s already carrying enough on his shoulders.” 

M/n felt a flare of irritation. “I’m not a burden to him.” 

Ye-seul’s gaze sharpened. “Are you sure about that? He’s always been the protector. It’s who he is. People lean on him, and he never says no. But that doesn’t mean it’s good for him.” 

“I didn’t ask him to protect me,” M/n shot back. “In case you missed it, I’m the one who saved him today.” 

Ye-seul’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t change anything. You’re still someone he cares about now. And that means you’re a risk.” 

M/n felt a pang of guilt, but he pushed it aside. “I didn’t choose to care about him. It just happened. And I’m not going to walk away because you think I should.” 

Ye-seul’s expression flickered with something—pain, maybe, or jealousy. “Chanyeong doesn’t let people in easily. If you hurt him…” 

“I won’t,” M/n interrupted, his voice firm. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, two stubborn forces unwilling to back down. 

Finally, Ye-seul sighed. “I hope you’re right. For both your sakes.” 

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving M/n standing alone in the dim corridor. 

M/n exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. He didn’t know what the future held for him or for Chanyeong, but one thing was certain; he wasn’t going to let anyone push him away from the person who had become his anchor in this chaotic world. 

The mission had been simple; retrieve medical supplies from an abandoned hospital a few miles from the safe zone. The military had cleared the building once before, but the monsters were unpredictable, and the place was still a danger zone. 

Despite the risks, M/n had volunteered to go. He was determined to prove himself again; not just to the others, but to himself. And in the days since the last mission, things had been better. The soldiers who had once mocked him now showed respect, their gazes lingering with a newfound acknowledgment. Even Yeseul had kept her distance, a quiet truce settling between them. 

Chanyeong had insisted on coming along. His ever-stoic demeanor gave M/n strength, an unspoken promise of protection. They moved together like a machine, sweeping the darkened hospital halls with precision and efficiency. 

But nothing ever went according to plan. 

They had just reached the hospital’s old surgical ward when the air shifted; a low, guttural growl that sent shivers racing down their spines. 

“Get ready,” Chanyeong muttered, gripping his weapon on his hip tightly. 

The monster exploded from the shadows, its pale, sinewy form illuminated by the flickering overhead lights. It was larger than anything they had faced before, its limbs unnaturally long and its teeth razor-sharp. 

Chaos erupted. 

M/n swung his weapon, the metallic pipe connecting with the monster’s ribs. The creature roared in pain but didn’t go down. It lashed out, its claws narrowly missing M/n’s face. 

“Fall back!” Chanyeong barked. 

They moved in sync, dodging the creature’s attacks as they retreated down the hall. But the monster was relentless. It lunged again, forcing them into the surgical ward; a sterile, cold room with no exit. 

Chanyeong’s eyes darted around, calculating their next move. The monster was blocking the only doorway, and it was too fast to take down easily. 

“We’re out of options,” M/n panted, adrenaline coursing through him. 

Chanyeong’s gaze softened for a brief moment. “Trust me.” 

Before M/n could respond, Chanyeong surged forward. He slammed the emergency door controls, and the steel door hissed shut, trapping M/n on the outside and locking Chanyeong inside with the monster. 

“Chanyeong!” M/n shouted, pounding on the glass window that separated them. 

The monster roared and charged. 

Chanyeong didn’t flinch. He met the creature head-on, his movements precise and deadly. He dodged its swipes and struck with brutal efficiency, his fists and blade a blur of motion. Blood sprayed across the white walls, staining the sterile room with crimson. 

M/n watched in horror, his fists clenched so tightly they ached. The glass barrier felt like a prison. Every instinct screamed at him to break through, to help, but there was no way in. 

The fight raged on, and Chanyeong was relentless; but so was the monster. It struck him hard, sending him crashing into a surgical table. The force knocked the breath from him, and for a terrifying moment, he didn’t move. 

“No!” M/n shouted, his voice raw with desperation. 

The monster loomed over Chanyeong, ready to deliver the final blow. 

Then, with a burst of strength, Chanyeong drove his blade into the creature’s throat. It let out a choked howl, its body convulsing before collapsing to the floor. 

Silence fell. 

M/n’s breath hitched as he saw Chanyeong slump against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Chanyeong!” He banged on the glass again, tears stinging his eyes. “Stay awake!” 

Chanyeong’s eyes barely opened. His voice was weak, but his gaze found M/n’s through the glass. 

“I-” He coughed, blood flecking his lips. “I think I... love you.” 

The words hit M/n like a lightning strike. 

“No, no, you don’t get to say that now!” M/n’s voice cracked. “You’re not dying. You hear me? You’re not dying!” 

But Chanyeong’s eyes closed, and his body went still. 

“Chanyeong!” M/n’s scream echoed down the empty hallway. 

Frantic, M/n slammed his shoulder against the door controls until they gave way, the steel door sliding open with a hiss. He rushed to Chanyeong’s side, his hands trembling as he checked for a pulse. 

It was faint, but it was there. 

Relief flooded M/n, and he let out a shaky breath. He tore a strip of fabric from his sleeve and pressed it against Chanyeong’s wounds, his hands steady despite the chaos still swirling in his mind. 

“I think I love you too,” M/n whispered, his voice breaking. “So don’t leave me.” 

Chanyeong didn’t respond, but M/n felt the faintest squeeze of his hand. It was enough. 

M/n’s muscles screamed in protest with every step, but he didn’t stop. Chanyeong’s unconscious weight rested on his back, his arms draped over M/n’s shoulders and head leaning against his neck. Blood soaked M/n’s shirt, both Chanyeong’s and his own from cuts and scrapes. The road back to the base was long and treacherous, every shadow a potential threat. But M/n’s mind was fixed on one goal; getting Chanyeong back alive. 

When the base finally came into view, M/n’s legs nearly gave out from exhaustion. A group of soldiers rushed forward, weapons raised until they saw who it was. 

“Help him!” M/n’s voice cracked as he knelt, lowering Chanyeong onto a stretcher the medics had brought. He stumbled to his feet, covered in dirt and blood, as the medics took Chanyeong inside the makeshift medical ward. 

But the moment of relief was short-lived. 

“Why are you the one walking around fine?” one soldier sneered, stepping forward. “Chanyeong’s the best we’ve got, and now he’s half-dead.” 

Another soldier scowled. “You were supposed to have his back. Instead, you let him get locked in with a monster.” 

The accusations hit M/n like a punch to the gut. His fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t defend himself. He couldn’t. The truth was, he felt the same crushing guilt. Chanyeong had saved him; again and now Chanyeong was paying the price. 

“Enough!” Yeseul’s sharp voice cut through the crowd. She stepped between M/n and the soldiers, her glare fierce. “Blaming him won’t help Chanyeong. And if you’re so concerned, why aren’t you in there helping the medics?” 

The soldiers muttered under their breath but backed off. 

Yeseul turned to M/n, her expression softening. “Go inside. He’s going to need you.” 

M/n nodded, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, but his feet carried him forward. 

The makeshift ward was a bleak, sterile space. Cots lined the walls, and the air was filled with the acrid scent of antiseptic. Chanyeong laid on the closest cot, pale and still, an IV drip hooked to his arm. Bandages covered his torso, and his breathing was shallow but steady. 

M/n sank into the chair beside the cot, his body sagging with weariness. He hadn’t realized just how heavy his grief and fear had been until now. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, reaching for Chanyeong’s hand. It was cold to the touch. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

The hours blurred into days. M/n never left the ward. He barely slept, catching fitful naps in the chair. He hardly ate, ignoring the rations Yeseul and a few other soldiers brought him. Every time Chanyeong’s breathing hitched or his body twitched, M/n was there, his heart racing with hope. But Chanyeong never woke. 

The medics warned him to take care of himself, but M/n didn’t listen. Guilt gnawed at his insides like a parasite, and every second spent away from Chanyeong felt like a betrayal. 

On the third night, M/n sat in the dim light of the ward, his head resting on the edge of the cot. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his body trembled with exhaustion. 

“I should have protected you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I should have done more.” 

A tear slipped down his cheek, falling onto Chanyeong’s hand. 

“Please,” M/n whispered. “Come back.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. But then; a faint twitch. M/n’s head shot up, hope lighting his eyes. Chanyeong’s fingers twitched again, and his eyelids fluttered. 

“Chanyeong?” M/n leaned forward, his heart pounding. 

Slowly, painfully, Chanyeong’s eyes opened. They were clouded with confusion at first, but when they locked onto M/n’s face, recognition dawned. 

“M/n...” Chanyeong’s voice was barely a whisper, but it was the most beautiful sound M/n had ever heard. 

“You’re awake.” M/n choked on a sob, gripping Chanyeong’s hand tightly. “You’re awake.” 

Chanyeong’s lips curved into a weak smile. “I told you... I’m not going anywhere.” 

M/n pressed his forehead to Chanyeong’s hand, the weight on his chest finally lifting. 

M/n couldn’t let go of Chanyeong’s hand, not even for a second. His heart was still pounding from the overwhelming relief of seeing him awake. Every rise and fall of Chanyeong’s chest felt like a victory, fragile but real. 

“You need rest,” Chanyeong murmured, though his voice was weak. “You’re worse off than me.” 

M/n let out a short, tired laugh. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.” 

“And you’re the one who hasn’t slept or eaten in days. I can tell.” Chanyeong shifted slightly, wincing from the movement. “C'mere.” 

M/n hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Chanyeong said, his gaze soft but insistent. “Please.” 

The vulnerability in Chanyeong’s eyes was rare, and it was enough to make M/n’s resolve crumble. Slowly, he climbed onto the cot, careful not to jostle him too much. The cot was narrow, forcing them close, and M/n lay on his side, his face only inches from Chanyeong’s. 

For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The dim light of the ward softened the harsh edges of the room, and the world outside felt far away; nothing but the two of them, suspended in this fragile, stolen moment. 

“I thought I lost you,” M/n admitted, his voice trembling. “I’ve never been so scared for anyone before.” 

Chanyeong’s fingers tightened around M/n’s. “I’m still here.” 

M/n swallowed hard. “I know... but seeing you like that, I-” 

Chanyeong reached out, his fingers brushing against M/n’s cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver through M/n’s entire body. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Chanyeong said quietly. “But I meant what I said. I love you.” 

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. M/n’s breath hitched. He could see the truth of it in Chanyeong’s eyes; there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. 

“I love you, too,” M/n whispered. The weight of everything; the fear, the guilt, the uncertainty, dissolved in that moment. 

Chanyeong’s hand slid to the back of M/n’s neck, and M/n leaned in without thinking. Their lips met, tentative at first, but the kiss quickly deepened. It was desperate and full of emotion; a kiss born from the fear of almost losing each other and the joy of finding one another again. 

M/n’s fingers curled into Chanyeong’s cut up shirt, holding him close. Their breath mingled, and the world outside the ward melted away. 

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together. M/n’s heart was racing, but it was no longer from fear. 

“We’ll get through this,” Chanyeong said softly, his thumb brushing over M/n’s cheek. “Together.” 

M/n nodded, tears glistening in his eyes but a smile tugging at his lips. “Together.” 

[hyunsuksswife]

@restlesswritings

[captaintaek]

𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦

𝘖𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦.

ミ★[ 𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘣𝘢𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴] ★彡

[write-it-good-imagines]

Nothing More(M) - Six

Hello everyone! Hope you had a great first half of the year. With everything happening so fast in my life, I now found a moment to breathe and get in my feelings again. So here's chapter six. Enjoy~ ~6k words, angst, love. How am I supposed to let you go when I don't wanna see you with anyone but me when nobody gets me like you? I only like myself when I'm with you.

Morning came seemingly too early for Samantha. The light orange spice of the sun was barging through the crack of the beige curtains of the bedroom, to find a resting place in the shared bed. That beautiful warmth gently awoke the woman who longed for a couple stolen minutes between the sheets. Try as she might, Samantha shifted from one side to the other in a hopeless attempt to charm the sleep from going away. She looked at Mark, whose brown hair was sparkling a dark autumn gold, and his eyelashes were fluttering in his sleep. Truly, a tender image to remember.

Samantha slid out of bed hoping she wouldn’t disturb Mark’s peace and stretched her body. With the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an open notebook on a distant desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. She curiously approached it but didn’t dare touch it. Mark’s handwriting was scribbled in the intimacy of the pages, some words crossed out, others accompanied by small question marks. There was a title towering at the top of the page: everyone else fades. A love song.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice groggily echoed from the bed and Samantha turned her body to him. It felt like he had been watching her for a while. His voice was an octave lower than usual but still sounded like music to Samantha’s ears.

“How long have you been awake?” she smiled, approaching the bed to sit on the edge.

Mark extended an arm to her direction to meet with her hand. “I felt you squirm around.”

“I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and gave a small squeeze to his hand. Mark just shook his head in response to indicate he was not bothered at all.

“Did you find anything you like?” asked Mark.

Samantha’s eyes travelled to the open notebook, then back to Mark. “Who is that for?” she asked in a mellow voice, focused on his presence.

Mark intertwined his fingers with hers and chuckled. Samantha was not meant to find that piece of writing, and he’d forgotten entirely about it the previous night. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Samantha chuckled and leaned on her belly into bed, meeting Mark’s curious eyes. He extended his hand to tug a lone strand of hair behind her ear. How much did she want that song to be for her.

“What?” Mark whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I bet my breath smells like shit.”

She laughed louder this time. Was she jealous, with Mark not admitting what she wanted to hear? “I bet mine smells like shit too, so that makes us even.”

“I guess I’ll forgive you this time,” Mark chuckled and let go of her face. He shifted his body to stretch on his side, one arm supporting his head, while the other draped loosely over Samantha’s lap. Marks’ fingers found a grip on Samantha’s naked inner thigh. “Morning sex?”

Samantha giggled and slipped from under his touch in an evident response. Mark laughed, too, albeit with his face dug in the plush of the mattress. “Yeah, go on and break my heart.”

In the absence of any vivid emotions, Samantha felt a string snap in the chords of her heart. Ever since the night before, the woman sensed Mark hid himself behind a wall and she could not see beyond. With every word spoken out of his mouth, the woman gathered it to be the truth.

“I did not mean that.”

Of course you did. “Of course not. I need to get ready for the hospital, I start at noon.”

Mark stretched his body to sit on the edge of the bed, both palms of his hand pushing his torso upright. “Have no idea about the time, but it’s far from noon.”

Then before she had a chance to comment, Mark continued. “Why are you running away from me with every chance you get?”

Samantha looked at him with longing eyes, still with a glimmer of both sadness and regret.

“I need to know, Sam.”

“Didn’t I tell you last night, Mark?”

“I did not sleep a wink thinking about everything you said. After the sex we had. Did you?”

Samantha hesitated for a moment. “No.”

A deep sigh exploded from Mark’s lungs. “Then why? I get it, I’m not tall like him, not as handsome, maybe half as smart—”

The woman rushed to shush him. “That doesn’t even matter—”

“All that I gave to you and still am giving is care and respect. And lo—”

In the distant living room, the sharp ring of a phone cut through what could have been Mark’s confession. Samantha hurriedly distanced herself from the bed, recognizing that the sound belonged to her phone.

“…fuck it.” Mark concluded and gathered a loose shirt from his wardrobe to throw over his head. He plunged to his feet to close the notebook where he had put his thoughts and feelings into lately. It was such a painful blur what Mark was feeling, far from the fairytales love ever promised, and it was blurry, Samantha’s voice speaking hurriedly from the other room, at some point fading in such a manner he could not recognize as hers. After a couple more prolonged seconds, Samantha’s head perked from behind the doorframe, watching Mark’s movements with a heavy heart. “Jonathan rang, the hospital is calling for the board of directors. They want me there earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, you should go.” Mark replied absentmindedly, not even sure he was processing anything else beyond the disappointment of his feelings. The bitterness did not go unnoticed.

“Mark…” Samantha tried getting closer, but Mark did not give any sign of mirroring her actions. She backed away. She settled for another question. “You’re leaving again today?”

“Tonight, yes.” He turned to look at her with a knot in his throat. “I need to start packing and all that.”

In a futile attempt to reestablish a connection with Mark, Samantha ultimately walked away from the cold doorframe, biting into the plush of her lower lip to push back the tears. At long last, she had found someone again, to treat her right and engulf her heart with warmth and joy. Was fear bigger than love? Perhaps it was. Was her pride bigger than Mark? It should not have been. As the woman gathered her scattered clothes from the lover’s nest which was Mark’s living room, and eerie sentiment started crawling to her faster and faster. It was as if Mark felt it too when he approached, replacing her in the doorframe. His arms were folded over his torso and there were abrupt lines under his eyes.

“I don’t think we’ll see each other again.” Mark spoke finally and there was some bigger denial force which led Samantha to believe he was just speaking about the present day.

“No, it’s alright, you must pack, meet up with the others. I think it’s going to be a full day at the hospital, anyway, so don’t worry about me!” Samantha cheered and forced a fake smile out of Mark. He did not want to say more.

“Murphy and Millo are outside, just so you know. I let them out into the backyard after you fell asleep.”

“Sure, I’ll get Murphy on the way out. Thanks.”

There was no intimacy during the last seconds of Samantha’s departure, just fugitive smiles shared, and Mark did not follow her outside. The eerie feeling the woman had previously culminated when Murphy suddenly started yelping and crying that he did not want to leave. As if he’d never come back.

Samantha put on her white coat in her office, straightening the wrinkles in the magenta crayon dress hugging her body. She pushed the hair tightened in a ponytail from under the collar, and let it swing like a metronome for a while. There was a pile of medical files on the desk which needed her careful revision for the day, yet the only thing capturing her attention was Mark’s cold demeanor during their parting. Fingers were curling at the hem of the coat, eyes fixated on a faraway point outside the window. Samantha did not hear Jonathan coming in.

“Sam?” Jonathan approached, briefly tapping at her shoulder. She flinched at the unexpected contact, broken off from her trance.

“Sorry, Jonathan.” She coughed shortly to gather her voice, turning to face the other. “What’s up?”

Jonathan observed her features, devoid of the usual happiness she had lately. “Did anything happen between you and Mark?”

Samantha frowned and for a moment forgot Jonathan knew her better than anyone. Or at least used to. “I don’t really feel like talking about it.” Before Jonathan commented. “Please. What do you need?”

“Nothing in particular, I stopped around to ask about the management meeting. There are rumors you want to step down?”

She nodded her head. “I do. I hate this politics and it’s not really my thing. I want to go back to treating people full time. This time for real.”

A small pause and then a sincere smile appeared on Jonathan’s lips. He opened his arms and Samantha gladly took the invitation to wrap around him. Jonathan gently pulled her head into his shoulder, towering over her. “Congratulations. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. Does this mean you talked to him? To Mark?”

Samantha tightened her grip around Jonathan. His back was as broad as she remembered it to be.

“Then why are you sad?”

She just shook her head. “Okay, I’ll stop. We can speak when you feel like it. I lied to you earlier, I actually came to tell you something else.”

“Oh?” Samantha pulled away, watching Jonathan with curious eyes. Jonathan cleared his throat, still holding Samantha close to him. It might as well have been for the last time that he did.

The nervous pacing of a nurse interrupted them with a knock on the open door. Jonathan let go of the woman, straightening his back. He winked at Samantha, with a playful smirk on his lips that she had not seen in a long time. She was overwhelmed with curiosity, especially since, even before the beginning of their relationship, that small gesture was always associated with mischief.

“Doctor Stoss, there is a patient here who wants to meet you. I understand you treated his wife in the past.”

“Of course, I’ll join him momentarily. Thank you, nurse.”

Samantha turned back to Jonathan after the nurse had walked away. “Hey, do you think we could call in the late-night motorcycle ride we talked about? I could really use it. And we could talk more, as it seems you have one or two things to confess to me.”

Jonathan laughed. “Count me in, then. I’ll walk with you; I’m heading to the reception area anyway.”

Truth was, people never get to be ready for the situations life puts them through. They never get warnings, never get spoilers, always hit again and again with the unforeseen and never get used to it. In the lobby of the reception area, Samantha recognized the man looking for her, all too well, with little tweaks and rough around the edges. Next to him was a woman, showing signs of pregnancy, and it all felt like history was replaying all over again. In a cruel deja vu.

“Doctor Stoss,” the man spoke, and a shiver ran down Samantha’s spine. Jonathan felt it and made himself busy around the area, in case she needed him. “We meet again.”

“Mister Dalton, yes.” Samantha composed herself but her skin must have been so pale from the sheer shock. “How can I be of use?”

“I know what you must be thinking.” The man continued, keeping a distance. “It’s not you that I hate, if I have that anymore in my heart. My sister,” gesturing toward the feminine silhouette next to him “she recently found out that she is pregnant, and we wish to monitor everything meticulously from the start.”

Samantha could not comprehend the words spoken to her. “That’s certainly very good thinking but why me? There are many skilled doctors in Seoul who I’m sure can help you with whatever you need.” She then looked down at the white floor. “I did not even forgive myself, so how could you?”

Dalton’s sister reached out for Samantha’s hand in a compassionate gesture which took Samantha by surprise. The man was looking away, not with a distraught expression, but rather one which was desperately fighting for the closure he so much needed. “You should forgive. We both know it was not you. We do.”

So many thoughts were rushing at that moment through Samantha’s mind, crowding and emptying and then crawling in colossal nonsense. The past weeks had been full of the unexpected, of unknown emotions, unknown people, and unknown happenings. Mark came to her mind again. How was it a coincidence that only the night before she was undoing the strings of pain aching at her heart, only to be followed by the father whose two most important people were lost from this life, looking to her for treatment?

“You are foreign like us, so you do understand the obvious choice. We read your scientific papers and all the good you did for the people. Despite us losing our dearest wife and sister, we want to bring his niece and my daughter into the world, loud cries and healthy. By your hands.”

Jonathan’s smile was so stretched out that it could have reached the galaxy. Samantha turned to him by instinct, to find him scribbling a happy face on an empty admission form, as happy as his oozing joy. Then she turned to the brothers, to be met by a sincere look in mister Dalton’s eyes. The sign for which she hoped would come finally did.

“Mister Dalton, please find one of these admission forms and fill it in on my patient’s behalf. Let’s go to an examination room.”

Jonathan giggled akin to a child. “Doctor Williams, if you could help me bring the other files I had, please.”

In light of the events unfolding before her very eyes, Samantha felt something click in her conscience. All the signs in the world could not have been louder to tell her it was time she came face to face with her feelings and her pride. For all that mattered, she had to confess to Mark what was on her mind, which was him and him alone. The mornings drew their breath from him, the days flew by to reach him, and the dusk settled to be with him. There couldn’t have been any other. It could not make sense with anyone else, it had to be Mark.

Now, or never.

Amidst packing the usual stuff for the last leg of the tour, Mark had an uneasy sentiment throughout. He replayed the moment they lay together on the summer grass in the park, teasing and laughing at one another, sewing little by little what he thought would be an indisputable connection. She drew him in, with the audacity of a thief and the serenity of a child. The smell of her skin filling the air bewitching him, the amber of her eyes twinkling like the brightest of stars, and oh the sound of her voice. She was a midsummer night’s dream.

Only she proved to be just that. A dream. Who was he to intrude, if she did not want him?

Mark took a glance at himself in the mirror and laughed at how hypocritical he was. Blaming his mishap on Samantha’s clear boundaries. You aren’t that guy, Jinyoung kept repeating to him, time and again, and by the time he realized he truly was not that guy, he had already done the damage to himself. During Mark’s career, with the bright lights and the fame, most of the girls he met were shallow, looking for easy ways to get out. They all wanted him; he never wanted them. Now that he wanted her, she did not want him. How pitiful that must have felt, to walk with your head held high into a trap thinking it would be a reward. And Samantha was not like anyone else he’d had, she was everything all the other women were not. Fierce, independent, addictive. In between the sheets, he did not believe sex and love could coexist and mean something. And Mark wanted her, with every piece she carried, even more so to fool himself he could help her heal, put a purpose on love again.

Human beings are selfish by nature, far from being perfect. Mark could not push a woman to be with him, against her own will. He would rather suffer than live a lie. Against all odds even, he stopped believing she would give them a chance.

So, to let her go was what he could do, for the sake of both of them.

At the crack of sundown, Mark brought his luggage to the van and joined with the rest of the guys to leave for the airport. He must have exuded a sense of sadness because the usual cheery atmosphere turned into a looming silence.

“Mark? Everything okay?” Jackson asked, putting his phone to the side.

“Yeah, sort of.” Mark replied and put the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, with a loud sigh. Ultimately, he gave up. “Everything is not okay.”

Jinyoung just sighed and folded his arms over his chest. Mark turned his body to the side to speak with the driver. “Can we make a stop to SMP hospital?”

“What are you even doing, adding oil to the fire?” Jinyoung commented, clearly dissatisfied that his friend just chose to torture himself further.

Mark fixed the hood over his eyes, relaxing his body into the fabric of the seat. “I’m letting her go.”

Bambam almost spit the water he was drinking. “You’re doing what now?”

But Mark just ignored the guys, opting to stay silent during the rest of the ride to the hospital. Admittedly, both Jinyoung and Jackson were surprised by Mark’s disclosure. Something had to happen during the night before for Mark to take such a decision, especially as they saw and knew about the feelings Mark harbored for Samantha. They knew better than to pry, Mark would share when he considered appropriate, and all they had to do was to be there for him.

Thoughts were racing through Mark’s mind, as was his heart in his chest, trying to figure out what exactly he would say to rip the band-aid as fast as possible. Whose band-aid he was going to rip off most probably would belong to him, still against his better feelings. Was he an impostor for not fighting more? Although there is nothing louder than the silence of two people being in love but walking away because someone had to choose themselves over the other?

“We’re here, Mark.” Jackson broke the silence, shaking Mark off his trance. “Still going?”

Mark just cracked open the door of the van in response, unpeeling himself hastily from his seat. Back in the car, there was an avalanche of buzzing coming from the cellphones of the other guys, and there was a collective shock.

“Oh my God”, the leader of the group spoke, looking through the pictures their manager had just sent them in the shared groupchat. “This is very bad.”

“Is it Samantha in all of them?” Jackson spoke and could not believe what he was seeing.

“Mark will have to make a statement for this shit, there’s no way. Where did these even come from?” Bambam threw his phone on the back seat. “Is it a fact Dispatch is going to publish it?”

“But he’s letting her go, no? So that’s… nothing is good.”

Mark’s phone was left in the backseat of the car, assaulted by messages and calls from their manager. Jinyoung looked out the window at Mark’s back walking away from the van, still stuck upon the striking picture in which Samantha was heatedly kissing the bartender of the club where the group spent their night some weeks before. Where Mark inadvertently met Samantha. Another picture in the deck where a dashing blonde man was sharing laughs with Samantha on the back of a motorcycle. And another one, alongside a charming tall brunette, doting over one another on the golden sands of a foreign beach. “Let’s hope he’s letting her go.”

The walk from the back of the parking lot to the entrance of the main lobby started a high-pitched ringing in Mark’s ears and he could not realize when he was met by the hospital receptionist.

“What can I help you with, sir? Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Could you page doctor Stoss? I need to talk to her.”

The receptionist was happy to comply with his request and Mark leaned his elbows against the reception counter. There were unusually few people that night in the main lobby of the hospital, keeping the bleak silence of the hospital intact.

“Out of everyone I could have met tonight, I never expected to meet you here.”

Initially, Mark did not recognize the arrogant voice, but when he turned his body to face the owner of that voice, he felt his blood pressure increasing.

“Neither did I, Doctor Carter.” Mark noted, keeping a snarky comment, still a prisoner, under a feigned sense of respect. He was hoping Henry would just leave, albeit highly unlikely.

“I get it, you’re here to see my dear Sam. Heroic, if you ask me. Mark, was it? How important must you singers be.”

The way he was using Samantha’s name was making Mark angry, more than belittling himself. “I didn’t ask. I have nothing to say to you.”

Henry chuckled and fixed the collar of his white coat. Using his analytical and cocky demeanor, Henry was actively looking for ways to assert dominance over Mark. He posed the physical advantages at least. “I have a couple of things to say to you, might as well just listen.”

Mark turned his body fully toward Henry, keeping his stance strong and definitive. Henry arched a curious eyebrow and decided he’d entertain Mark.

“Do go ahead and speak to her while you have the chance. Next time you’d be back, maybe you won’t have it.”

“As if I need any permission to ask of you. You are too self-sufficient to see beyond your shadow.”

Henry laughed yet felt annoyed. He reached into his pocket to reveal a small velvety box to Mark. “When she becomes my wife, you won’t get fifty meters around her shadow.”

The guts of the guy made absolutely no sense to Mark who, out of instinct, just burst out laughing. There was a passer-by, alerted by the bizarre sounds of laughter.

“I don’t know if you’re either too stupid or too delusional but thanks for the laugh.” Mark concluded and threw his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture.

In any other setting, Henry would have grabbed Mark by the collar. He took a step closer to Mark’s silhouette. “Why? Think it is going to be you whom she chooses?”

Undeterred by the feelings of a broken heart twisted by an invisible knife, Mark mirrored Henry’s actions to also take a step forward. “Doesn’t matter who it is going to be but sure as hell it’s not going to be you, doctor. If you can keep calling yourself that.”

“Mark.” Samantha’s voice broke the tension between the two men and caused them to back away from one another. Henry put the velvety box back in the pocket of his coat, regaining his self-confidence. He met Samantha with one of his charming smiles, but she did not pay him any attention. Her eyes were focused on Mark, in a contradiction of happiness and fear. “You paged me, did anything happen to you?”

Mark glanced at Henry, signaling that he wanted to get some privacy with her.

“Let’s go to my office.”

“Will I have the honor to see you a tad later? I’ll get you home.” Henry chirped but Mark and Samantha turned their backs to him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He finally spoke, unable to acknowledge he was no longer Samantha’s main focal point.

Samantha closed the door of the office behind her in a clumsy motion, struggling to gather the words to speak. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, I thought you were flying out?”

Mark turned to her and voluntarily allowed her to see the sadness and impatience flowing over his face. “I am, the van is parked outside. I wanted to see you one last time.”

Samantha scoffed and suddenly felt like throwing up. She quickly recalled the looming feeling of the morning, Murphy’s refusal to leave Mark’s house. “One last time? You’re coming back soon; we’ll get to see each other again.”

Biting in the plush of his inner cheek, Mark walked towards her and tenderly cupped her face. “I cannot see you again, Sam. We won’t see each other again. I came to say goodbye.”

She shook her head in disbelief, watching Mark with a desolate expression. “What, no, no you can’t. What do you mean goodbye?”

The tear rolling down Samantha’s cheek twisted the knife deeper into Mark’s heart. He guided his thumb to wash it away. “I cannot be with one foot in and have the other ready to go. It’s very, very painful for me, and I can’t force you to love me if you don’t. I tried to be that guy, but I can’t. I want people to see us out in the street holding hands, I want people to hear us when we’re making love and know it’s me in our bed. I want to experience things I’ve never felt before with you. I want to kiss you right in Henry’s fucking face and I want all the love songs I’ll write to have you as their muse. Everyone else fades was about you. I don’t want to see you with anyone but me.”

Mark leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on Samantha’s forehead, his lips finally whispering against skin as he pulled her into him. “I’m so sorry.”

Samantha’s eyes peeled wide open with each sound crossing the barrier of Mark’s lips, with each pulling the rug from under her feet. She did not become aware of when heavy tears flattened against her features, no whimper leaving her chest. The silence was deafening, and Mark was one inch away from slipping into a place where she could not reach. The warmth of Samantha’s tears was flooding into the crook of Mark’s neck, and he had to gather all ounces of strength to keep himself together.

Still, voice was trembling. He wouldn’t wish in his wildest dreams to make her cry, when he convinced himself, he would never. “I have to go, Sam. Please, let me go. I need you to be fine with it, you must be fine with it so I can go.”

No physical counter could account for the pain stacking up in Samantha’s being. Mark placed another butterfly peck on her forehead as he distanced his body from hers, briefly caressing her hand with his. Just as Mark was about to turn the knob of the door, a cry bubbled out from Samantha’s mouth.

“How will I love you if you leave?”

Mark’s fingers froze on the knob, his head jolting back to capture Samantha’s saddened frame. To then face her in utmost distrust. That was no moment for his mind to have him hallucinate. “What did you say?”

The woman faced Mark, repeating the sweet words Mark wished to hear, in the faintest of murmurs. “I love you, Mark.”

A sole tear escaped the chains of Mark’s eyelids, and he approached Samantha carefully, barely grasping the events unfolding. Samantha gathered from behind the thick veil formed on her irises that he was still there, still in her proximity. “I didn’t know I loved you the first time you left a note on my coffee table that you walked Murphy after that heavenly sex. I didn’t acknowledge I loved you when I poured my heart out in the rain to the other side of the world where you were, in New Delhi. I understood I loved you when you said you’d take me with you to see the world. And I felt I loved you when you were running through my fingers last night.”

Mark rushed to envelop her absolute anatomy into his arms, swallowed by the need to feel her every atom at the tips of his fingers. There was no force tempting her to break down crying, she was just silently staring into an empty imperfection in the floor. “I was so afraid you’d leave me.”

“I was so afraid you’d never have me,” Mark countered and buried his face into the crown of her head. “Gosh, I feel like an idiot now.”

“Will you leave me?”

When Samantha gathered the strength to finally make eye contact with Mark, the image of her, with the porcelain skin glowing underneath the cascade of tears, with the glimmer of the eye burning with fear, was alluringly devastating. Samantha was convinced the wound of a bullet wouldn’t hurt as badly as Mark denying their love. It all should have started to fall in place. It all should have started to make sense. She should have thanked every deity the otherworldly coincidence for putting mister Dalton into her path, and she also knew she had a long way of repenting for the hurt she caused to Mark. Part of which he confessed again, one too many times. For all of which, she almost chose to ignore.

Almost is never enough.

“It’s almost been half an hour; we are going to lose our plane.” Jinyoung observed, growing steadily impatient. “Someone should go and get him.”

“I’ll go,” Jackson volunteered, fixing the champagne-colored shirt on his body. “We all know how shit this situation is but you of all people should know not to get mad.”

Jackson hopped off the car, to make his way to the hospital entrance. With the paparazzi resurfacing all of a sudden, he wished to be fast and smooth and not attract any more unwanted attention that would add to the already poor situation. Jackson followed the directions to a corner of the lobby where the management offices were listed and took an elevator to the second floor, in search of Samantha Stoss’ office. A quick question, among his fine features and a gentle smile, was all he needed to locate the room towards the middle of an adjacent corridor. From far away, Jackson noticed two people were coming to the same direction as he was going, a beautiful curly haired woman, and a tall blonde manly figure, both in surgical attire.

The faster they approached, the more he recognized the man was the same in the picture with Samantha, straddling the two wheeled vehicle. Their presences were the sole ones in the corridor. Not the one to jump so quickly to conclusions, Jackson chose to be mindful of the other man’s actions.

“Could we help you with something, sir?” the man spoke, a hint of confusion in his voice as he failed to place Jackson in that scenery. It was clear that he did not know who he was. Not the same could have been said about his companion, whose eyes acknowledged his presence differently from that of a complete stranger.

Leena watched him intently and the virtually unnoticeable gesture of her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue forced Jackson to linger slightly. “Oh, don’t mind me, thank you. I am here for Doctor Stoss.”

Jonathan quirked his eyebrows. “Samantha is quite popular around these parts. So, I gather there’s someone else besides Mark?”

The last remark was intended more for Leena who reciprocated Jackson’s lingering action. “I am not sure bandmates toss their girls around to one another. Am I wrong?”

Jackson chuckled and Jonathan could not help but feel dissatisfied with the exchange. “Much to my dismay, Mark met Doctor Stoss first. Otherwise, who knows?”

Leena laughed and before Jonathan had the chance to reply, Jackson continued. “Apologies, I wish I had more time to stay, I came to take Mark, so we won’t lose our flight.”

“Mark is here?” Leena followed curiously and watched Jackson extend his hand to open the door. Then, leaning to Jonathan, voice lowering into a whisper, eyes fixated on Jackson’s body dressed elegantly in Louis Vuitton attire. “What if they’re having sex?”

“I’d feel too bad to end the goodbye sex.”

Jackson opened the door to meet a hugging Samantha and Mark. Fully clothed otherwise, Jackson noticed Samantha’s face was smeared with tears and he could only hope Mark made it as easy as possible. The couple quickly pulled apart, and Samantha brought her hands to her eyes, to wipe them. Mark frowned at Jackson, if anything to show genuine confusion.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“I hope you’ve finished breaking up because as of right now, you do not really have any other choice.” Previous chapter Next chapter

[happysprings]

Still you!

Chapter 3

Link for chapter 2

After you guys shifted everything from truck to room you guys all sat and relaxed for a bit. Suddenly Jinyoung said looking at you "I need to speak to you privately." Hearing this everybody started shouting and teasing "oooo privately !!! do we have to got out ?? need some privacy?" jackson commented within seconds Yuri shouted "guys our balcony is pretty big shall we hang out there ? for privacy reasons.." you got annoyed and spoke "seriously?? its not funny." As you spoke Jinyoung came near you and held your wrist and dragged you to your room, seeing this everybody left towards the balcony teasing you two.

"what is it ?" you asked jinyoung looked at and said "will you drop that attitude? I am sorry i made mistake i should have called you." you smiled sarcastically "so you finally accepted that" to which Jinyoung snapped "yes I do..unlike you, you left the country and never contacted, you came to my noona's wedding yet you ignored me the whole time. " hearing this you didnt answer anything. You started to walk away but jinyoung came near you and held you hair "stop giving me this silent treatment." you held his hand shouted "fucker!!are you 8 ?? you seriously pulling my hair??it hurts let it go." but jinyoung still held your hair tightly you got mad and turned to him and held his hair as well now both of you are pulling each other's hair shouting at each other. Suddenly Youngseo and Mark comes in and Mark hold Jinyoung and youngseo holds you and both of you shouted to stop pulling each other's hair, but in vain. "First tell him to let go." you shouted slowly everyone gathered in the room all were shocked to both of you like this. After a lot of shouting and cussing each other you both finally let each other go. "WHoa I thought you guys would have been romantically involved but I must say i was wrong." Yugyeom spoke, hearing this you snapped at Yugyeom "shut up! dont pair me up with this stupid ass." hearing this Jinyoung said "really me?? you shut up." when you both started bickering again youngseo got irritated and shouted "shut up you both.. If you guys want to eat something you need to hug it out. come on guys we are childhood friends it is so sick to see you both fight like 10 years olds. you guys are twice the age!! handle it maturely," you were about to say something but youngseo understood and spoke again "i know it was Jinyoung's fault that he didnt call or try to contact but you also didnt try you both were acting like kids, one left the country and other stopped coming to home, that was really mature of you.. after so many years finally all of us are together and this is how you guys behave??" hearing this you both got some sense and apologized each other and finally first time in 15 years you both hugged. It was a friendly hug as jinyoung spoke "I am sorry, I will not do it again." you also confessed that you are at fault too. Now you both try to go back to normal, suddenly you got a call from Luke who informed you that he finally landed in Seoul, hearing this you said "wait there i will pick you up." hearing this Jackson asked "someone else is coming too?" you nodded and said "yeah he is my classmate, btw anybody free?? Can anybody give me a drive me to the airport? I am yet to receive my driver's license". hearing this Yuri spoke "jinyoung is free he will take you." hearing this Jinyoung said Okay and you guys went on. The ride from home to airport was nice you guys remised the old memories jinyoung asked if you still eat chocolates with dry fruits or you made peace with plain chocolate, you laughed and told him that there are thing that never changed. As you were reaching the airport Jinyoung asked "who is this Guy?" you answered "he is one of my best friends of medschool." "is he Korean?" jinyoung threw another question to which you said "yes he is half Korean his mom is Korean dad is American." Hearing this jinyoung nodded. There was silence after sometime ,but Jinyoung Spoke "I missed you all these years." you touched his hand and smiled "i missed you too, I watched all your songs dramas variety shows , live everything, I even saw your cover of at my worst." "To tell you honestly I saw your instagram story that you were obsessed with that song so tried it." Jinyoung spoke, You blushed. You guys reached Airport. You went out while Jinyoung sat inside the car and watched you. You waited as you saw Luke arrived as he came he hugged you and gave you a princess twirl. Jinyoung would be lying if he said he wasn't Jealous, He hated it , they you were smiling at him the way he touched you and looked at you. The way you guys were together it prinked his heart.

As you were about to sit at the back with Luke Jinyoung spoke "I will not drive if you'll sit at the back!" hearing this you rolled your eyes and sat beside him. As the ride started you introduced both of them. They both were cold to each other. As he drove he finally asked him "where are you staying ? Tell me the address I'll drop you there." to which Luke replied "Sure here, and I am staying with my grandmaa." you smiled and asked "how is she you told me she had arrythmia ? Is she taking her medication on Time? " to which Luke replied "yes she is way too fine now all thanks you, I must say you are a great doctor." You smiled proudly and said "i know right." Jinyoung asked Luke "so arent you a doctor?" to which Luke nodded and said " yes but I am Orthopedician unlike her." Jinyoung Nodded. You guys reached Luke's home. You were about to get off but Jinyoung held your wrist and said "sit here I'll help him with Luggage" to which you replied "no we need to meet his grandmom as well." you spoke and dragged Jinyoung out of the car. Jinyoung was awkward initially but as he came out instead of hugging Luke his grandmom started shouting "omo omo.. GOT7 Jinyoung... oh my godd, I your fan...Aghase ." hearing this you smiled and patted his back. Jinyoug was proud of himself but Luke on other hand got annoyed as he spoke "your grandson came all the way from USA but you guys are busy with some kpop Idol." as he said hearing this his grandmother slapped Luke at the back and spoke "he is got7's Jinyoung, look at him how handsome he is ." As you guys sat Jinyoung gave you the cushion to keep it on your lap and his grandmom offered you guys tea Jinyoung was quick to ask if the tea had milk to which Luke's grandmom nodded and said yes Jinyoung said "she is lactose intolerant, cannot drink it." you smiled and nodded his grandmom smiled, then she bought ice tea for you, you thanked her for the service suddenly you got a call from Yuri asking when you'll be home, meanwhile you spoke Jinyoung took your cold glass without saying anything and held it. As if some unspoken words are there that only he can understand. As you guys stood up you picked the key which jinyoung was searching you handed him the keys.Finally it was time for you and jinyoung to go back home, but before going home Luke's family clicked numerous photos with Jinyoung, as you two were leaving his grandmom spoke "I hope you two always stay together you two actually look good,." Hearing this you smiled and said "he is not boyfriend, we are not together." when you said this for some reason Jinyoung got a little hurt as if you were denying something which is true. Again Luke's Grandmom spoke "may be not now but you guys are meant to be together, the way you both understand each other and take care of each other I can tell by that. " you smiled and greeted again before leaving. The ride to home was awkward , as you reached you saw the guys left. "I guess everyone left, I'll leave too, " Jinyoung said you nodded you were about to get off the car Jinyoung spoke again "how are you going to hospital? I will drop you tell me the time." to which you said you'll leave at 9 to which Jinyoung nodded and told you he will pick you up.

Next day you got ready and saw Jinyoung waiting by the car you ran towards the car shouting "I am getting late please let's go!" looking at you he smiled because he loved the clumsy you just like when you were kids, he was always there to hold you. As you sat in car Jinyoung gave you a packed tiffin and said "eat it I know you didnt eat." you looked at him and asked "how do you know that?" to which he smiled and said "because somethings never changes. Even after 15 years I know you." You looked at him and handed him a ham burger that you made at home and said "true!! eat it, I made it with limited ingredients." He looked at you and asked "this is ?" you answered "hamburger do you not like it? I too remember a lot of things about you" hearing this he smiled and concentrated on the road. As you guys reached hospital before going out he said "dont forget to drink water and take this." he handed you a rubber band. "You are a savior." saying this you hugged him. Before you could go out Jinyoung held your wrist "when should I pick you up?" he asked "i dont think so i will be home today.. I will call you if I get to leave okay??" you answered and rushed inside as you entered you went straight to the Cardiology department. You met everyone and your work started it was coronary artery bypass graft which took 8 hours. As you came out of the surgery you saw you had missed calls from Luke. You saw his text asking you to come to cafeteria for lunch you went down and sat with him as he asked "so who dropped you here?" and said "Jinyoung was free so he did." hearing this Luke nodded and said "you must be hungry you might not have eaten anything." to which you replied " thanks to Jinyoung he fed me while he dropped me here, he got me tiffin." hearing this Luke nodded and asked "Do you still like him?" hearing this you got all awkward and said "he is my childhood best friend he has seen almost all of my first times be it first day of school, first time i lost a tooth, first period, my first celebrity crush.....everything. We have a different equation." to which Luke said "you do understand that you didn't answer my question?" before you could say anything you got a call and you left for work.

It was 11 at night as you sat inside your cabin and your phone vibrated it was a text from jinyoung

GOT7 Jinyoung

Let me know if you're done.. I am still at practice i can pick you up.

you shot a reply asking him to pick you up. You packed your stuff and you got a call from him "hey, I came inside hospital where to go?" Jinyoung asked You replied "stay near the reception I'll be there." and disconnected the call. As you reached reception you saw him waiting for you, he turned around and waved you "you look worn out." he said and took your hand bag you smiled and as you guys started walking suddenly you heard CODE BLUE CODE BLUE (medical emergency / Cardiac arrest) suddenly your phone started ringing as you answered it you got to know that your patient was having a cardiac arrest without saying anything you ran. the patient's condition was not good so you had to go in for surgery again but before going to OR you called Jinyoung "hi, i am so sorry , but you please go I dont know how much time it will take." to which Jinyoung said "its fine I am going back to practice just call me once done, also i live near by your hospital." to which you said " you dont have to I can ask Luke to drop me." hearing this jinyoung said "No call me I'll wait." you said okay went to OR and Jinyoung went back to GOT7 dorms as he entered Jackson started teasing "'so did you pick up your girlfriend?" hearing this Jinyoung said "no she is not my girlfriend she is my childhood best friend." "who is a girl." Yugeon added Jinyoun gave him the annoyed look and sat on the couch only to get surrounded by Mark, Jay B and Jackson "You like her....stop lying to yourself." "you guys need to stop." Jinyoung answered in frustration "okay we will first tell us why do you not like that Luke guy?" asked Mark Jinyoung answered "because he is weird i somewhere feel he has some feelings for her." as Jinyoung completed the sentence Jackson said " okay she is your best friend you dont love or like her then if someone has feelings for her, why do you have problem with that." soon Bambam joined and said "But noona is cute I would have asked her out if she was not your friend." hearing this Jinyoung almost choked Bambam as jayB intertwined "yaa Jinyounga if you have no feelings for her and she just your best friend why would you get angry." Finally Jinyoung pushed his hair back and spoke "okay fine I dont exactly know what kind of feelings I have for her if it is friendship or something else and also we lost contact for so long, I dont want to make things awkward between us by bring up all these things." hearing this everyone cheered him and Jackson said "Finally you admitted we all will help you." and hugged Jinyoung. Soon after he received your text you were asking if he was awake, instead of replying Jinyoung called you "I am awake.....you want me to pick you up?" you answered "actually Can I crash at your place? I have to come back after 4 hours.? If you are fine with it?" to which Jinyoung gulped and said yes. As he Reached Hospital you were waiting outside with Luke and he asked "If you want I can drop you." to which you said Jinyoung will be picking you up and your are going to crash at his place since you need to come back after 4 hours. Luke was about to say something suddenly Jinyoung's car stopped and you said "here it is, thanks BTW see you tomorrow." saying this you went inside the car and Jinyoung gave you a bottle of ice tea you thanked him and drank it. As the ride started Jinyoung asked "why only 4 hours?" to which you explained that you have another surgery in 6 hours. to which he said "you are very busy I see." you nodded and closed your eyes as Jinyoung spoke "how many time Do i have to tell you Y/N you should always wear seat belt." but instead of listening or to answer him you slept. he stopped the car and fixed your seat belt as he did that he suddenly saw your face closely he tugged you hair behind your ear and covered you with his jacket and started driving.

Chapter 4...

[staynoonaz9290]

Sweet Talk To Me

Where Arin has a sexy TA, Park Jinyoung, who she’s been crushing on a little too hard, and Eunmi’s still bickering with her childhood frenemy, Im Jaebum, who’s she’s just a little too attracted to nowadays. Heading to a party, Arin wants to let loose and Eunmi wants to find a guy to spend the evening with for once, neither one of them prepared for what would happen that night…

Group: JJProject/Got7/Solo Artists

Pairing: Jinyoung/Fem! Reader (Third Person - Arin); JB/Fem! Reader (Third Person - Eunmi)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Content, Oral Sex (F-Given), Language, Student/TA Relations, Frenemies, Friends to Lovers, Partying, Alcohol Consumption, Making Out, Heavy Petting, Slight Dirty Banter

Chapters: 5

Word Count: 21,934

Main Masterlist | Got7 Masterlist

COMPLETE

Preview:

“I honestly just think you have bad taste, Eunmi.”

She glared at him, her heart not all the way in it, eyes locking with his. 

“I’m just saying,” Jae said with a shrug, eyes darting from hers. “Those guys don’t deserve you at all.” 

All thoughts in Eunmi’s mind came to a screeching halt at those words, and Jaebum shoved both hands in his pockets, seeming a little wobbly on his feet as he glanced down at his shoes. 

“What?”

It’s all she could think to say in that moment, voice quiet, honestly not sure if she heard him right. Her heart was racing in her chest, much harder than it had all night, and she felt an odd flutter in her throat as she swallowed hard. Eunmi watched him reach up to run a hand through his hair, her eyes following the movement, realizing how close they were standing for the first time. 

“I just-”

Eunmi knew Jae too well; he always looked around when he was nervous, as if the words he needed were written on a cue card waiting for him in the background. 

“They’re not really worth your time. You’re…”

She felt like she couldn’t breathe now, something different about the air between them, something charged that she wasn’t sure if she was imagining or not. Her stomach was twisting slowly but steadily, drunk mind frozen in time, not sure what to expect from this man in front of her. 

He finally sighed, taking his hand from his hair and letting it drop to his side. 

“You’re too good for them, Eunmi.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Anything else I should know about you, Miss Kim?” 

Jinyoung's eyes were shining in amusement and she giggled with a playful roll of her eyes. 

“You can call me Arin, Professor Park .” 

He bit his lip, the smile on his face a little more wicked than it should’ve been as he looked at her through his lashes. 

“I think I might still want you to call me Professor Park though.” 

Oh my god, yeah, he’s definitely drunk

But truthfully, so was she, and his words had her brain short-circuiting as she took in the implications. She wanted him, bad - since the moment she’d seen him on the first day of class- but with him so close, yet so far away, a tantalizing grin on his face as she realized their knees were definitely touching now…

Arin knew they were wading in dangerous waters. 

“What if I don’t want to call you that?” she asked with a teasing smirk, a master at hiding her emotions, drunk or not. “ Jinyoung .”

“Hmm…” he searched the features of her face, eyes lingering on her lips before he was reaching into the chip bag again. “I guess I can live with that.”

If you liked this preview, you can read the whole novel here on my AO3 page 😊!

[mark-tuan-and-jinyoung-lover]

Nimmmmmmm!!! I just saw all the love you've been giving my account 🥹 I hope you're doing well and ily, but I'm sorry... please take Jinyoung. He's too much trouble for me to deal with 😭

Hey Chelle!! I'm doing okay and I hope you're doing well too! I'm sorry girl,but Jinyoung is all yours! I'm extremely happy with just my Markachu!

Here's a little gif to show you my love!

[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!

[kathaelipwse]

Pairing: Bf!Youngjae x Reader x Bestfriend!Jaebeom

W.C: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+ smut, Threesome, pet name's (Jagiya, baby, beautiful), foreplay. (I prolly forgot something-)

Trope: Trio best friends.

Request: Yes

Summary A movie night which was supposed to be spent by watching a rom-com movie, but in a twist of possibilities things escalated as per your darkest desires.

The dim light from the television flickered across the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Youngjae and you were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a soft blanket as y'll watched the romantic comedy he had picked out for your movie night. Originally, Jaebeom was supposed to join y'll, but he had backed out at the last minute due to some work he needed to finish up.

As the movie progressed, an explicit scene came on, causing your cheeks to flush and your body to squirm, you were turned on. Though you tried to hide it, your body language betrayed you, revealing your constant moving and your thighs squeezed shut to Youngjae. With a knowing smirk, he decided to take advantage of the situation, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, teasing you with gentle touches.

The sexual tension in the room grew thicker as Youngjae's hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your clothes to caress your sensitive skin. His lips found yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste all of you. Slowly, he laid you down on the couch as he worked his way down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and marks in his wake, until he reached the juncture of your thighs.

You gasped as he yanked off your skirt and panties in a swift move. Youngjae's tongue flicked out licking your inner thigh and leaving gentle bites. He sucks on your cunt, gentle yet very teasingly as your fingers get hold of his hair, tugging on it due to which he let out a soft moan against your cunt. Your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensations, only to fly open again when you heard the soft click of the front door. Jaebeom stood leaning against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene before him. Y'll had been a trio since the elementary school due to which y'll had the keys of each other's apartments. And he had manged to get done with his work faster than you had expected.

Well it wasn't the first time he had walked in on y'll, and over time, he had grown shameless about it. Something about his presence excited you even more, and you found yourself confessing your deepest desire. "I've always wanted a threesome with the two of you," you admitted breathlessly.

Without missing a beat, Jaebeom sauntered over to the couch picking you up and carrying you to the room as he places you down, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "You really don't mind if I join in, do you, baby.....will you be able to handle us both?"

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement. "I want you both," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want to be ruined by my two best friends."

Youngjae smirked as he had already known about your desires, his eyes blazing with possessiveness and desire. "You heard our jagiya," he said, his voice rough with need. "Let's give her exactly what she craves."

Jaebeom wasted no time in stripping off his clothes, revealing his toned body and rock-hard erection. He climbed onto the bed, his hands immediately finding your sensitive nipples. He rolled them between his fingers, tugging and pinching until you were writhing beneath him, your moans filling the room.

Youngjae took the opportunity to claim your mouth, shoving his length down your throat stretching your throat wide with his cock making you gag. You palmed the remaining length and bobbed your head slowly and teasingly which just made Yeongjae shove his whole length in your mouth causing tears to prickle down your eyes in pleasure, which was combined with Jaebeom's skilled fingers on your nipples and Youngjae's powerful thrusts, had you nearly cumming on the spot. You were brain fucked at this point, mind dazed and all you could do was ask for more and moan their names to the extent where you couldn't even think straight.

Jaebeom moved lower, his tongue trailing down your stomach until he reached your dripping core. He lapped at your folds, sucking your cunt into his mouth as he slid two fingers deep inside you. "You taste so fucking good, my beautiful jagiya," he moaned against your sensitive flesh. "I could eat you out for hours."

Youngjae pulled his length out caressing your cheek. "Our girl needs more," he said, his voice tight with restraint. "She needs to be filled by both of us."

Jaebeom nodded, pulling his fingers from your heat. He moved to lay on his back, pulling you on top of him. "Ride my cock baby, like a good girl," he commanded, his hands gripping your hips. "Take me deep inside you."

You whimpered, sinking down onto Jaebeom's impressive length. You moaned loudly as you felt him stretch you to your limits, filling her completely. Youngjae positioned himself behind you, his cock nudging against your back entrance. "Relax, jagiya," he cooed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Let us both inside you."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Youngjae pushed into your tight heat, both men now fully seated within you, their lengths shoved deep in you. At this moment, in your whole damn life you had never felt so full, so completely owned by these two men. They set a punishing pace, thrusting in tandem, driving you wild with pleasure.

Their hands roamed her body, teasing and caressing every inch of you. They whispered filthy words of praise, telling you how perfect you are, how good you felt wrapped around their cocks. You were lost in a sea of sensation, Your body climbing higher and higher towards ecstasy and your moans just growing louder.

With a scream of pure pleasure, you shattered between the two, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves as you had milked their cocks. Jaebeom and Youngjae soon followed, their moans mingling with yours as they spilled deep inside her, filling you up with their cum.

They pulled out making sure no cum slipped out of your holes. You had never felt more satisfied, more completely and utterly ruined in the best possible way. And as you drifted off to sleep, safe and warm between your two best friends you mumbled out "I love y'll".

Jaebeom and youngjae moth cracked a smile and mumbled, "We love you too, jagi. All of you."

They quickly cleaned you and themselves up. And dressed themselves and you in comfortable clothes, slipping besides you and cuddling you till the two had fallen asleep holding you in their embrace.

---

[kdramafeeds]

Han Song I x Seo Do Hyeon

03.20.2025

[tangylemonade]

Butterflies

𝙹𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝚐𝚗 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

⚠︎︎: 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚜 (𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, & 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚐 (𝙸'𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢).

𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙽𝙸

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝙰𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 4𝚔

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 & 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜. ♥

𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 & 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍!

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

“Oh my god! Jinyoung!? Don’t scare me like that!”

His hands still rested on your chair that he pulled whilst your back was turned, his new favorite way to greet you when he visited your studio.

You took your headphones off and put your hand over your beating heart to steady it while Jinyoung laughed at your expression. You swiveled your chair, rolling away from him and back to your computer but he stopped you mid motion and turned you back to him. You folded your arms and looked away.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry.”

“You said you were sorry last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the…”

“Okay I get it.” He said now kneeling in front of you while he rubbed his hands together in a dramatic begging motion. The teasing smile that still played on his lips was enough to warrant a pulling of his ear.

“Ow ow, I said I was sorry.” He said removing your hand from his ear and holding it.

“Whatever.”

You said shaking away his hand and the sudden butterflies that started waking up in your stomach.

‘There will be none of that!’ you scold yourself internally.

This has been happening more and more recently. Jinyoung was coming over to your studio to check on a song you’d been making or just to hang out. You were used to him being around so you couldn’t understand why suddenly small things like him holding your hand made your heart do liittle flips.

He placed one of those healthy energy drinks that he already opened for you on your desk before sitting down on the couch and opening his own drink.

“Geez, do I look that tired?” You joked before taking a swig.

When he didn’t respond you turned and looked at him only to catch his eyes just before he looked away.

Was he staring? Nah.

You turned back to your screen with a pink flush now blossoming in your cheeks, again, and clearing your throat.

“So last night I was tweaking the song we were working on last week but I don’t know I feel like it’s missing something.” You said before playing the song you’d been working on like a maniac all night.

You watched him intently while he listened, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

When the song finished Jinyoung got up without saying anything and walked over to your setup. He leaned over you, arm brushing against you as he grabbed the mouse. He was so close now you could smell the cologne you bought him for his birthday.

He told you that he always wore it so he would be needing a new one soon.

Your heart betrayed you once again, speeding up in your chest. Your eyes couldn’t help taking in his perfect features before settling on his plump lips. You swallowed.

Jinyoung looked down at you with his brows furrowed.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed.”

Before you could respond he had put his hand against your forehead before putting the other against his own.

“You definitely feel a little warm.” He said looking back at you.

You moved his hand away and stood up.

“I feel fine, it’s just a little warm in here.” You said slightly backing away from him.

He raised his eyebrow as his eyes flickered to the sweater you were bundled up in and the blanket that had fallen from your lap when you had suddenly gotten up.

It was far from warm in here.

“Anyway, what were you doing?” You said changing the topic not so smoothly.

“Oh right! So I was just mapping out some parts where I felt like it could use softer vocals mixed throughout. I think that would really pull the whole sound together.”

“I see… okay head into the studio and we can try it out.” You liked the idea for multiple reasons. One being that he might actually be right and the other being your need for him to no longer be so close to you.

“Wait. I was thinking you could do it.”

“What!? Me? But I don’t sing.” You said looking at him confused.

“But your voice is really pretty and I think this would really suit you.” He said matter of factly.

And que the blush.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Trust me. Your voice is exactly what this song's melody is missing.”

The next thing you knew you were the one in the studio and he was sitting in your chair. At first you were nervous and your voice was shaky but as he talked to you and coached you along you warmed up.

“Okay, come out and listen!” Jinyoung said excitedly.

You hurried out and he replayed the song for you. This time instead of just his honey voice filling the room you also heard yours mixed in there too. He smiled at you when it was done.

“See? It’s perfect like this!” He said, smiling up at you.

“But I hate the sound of my voice. And besides, it’s still missing something.” you said, shaking your head. Even though it did sonically sound much better you couldn’t help but cringe at the sound of your voice.

“I love the way your voice sounds.” He replied, playing the song again with a smile on his face.

“Okay.” You said as you tried to fight the hundredth heart flip today. “Now get out of my chair.”

Instead of moving he just patted his lap with a trouble making smile. You froze, simply staring at him.

“Sorry.” He said with an awkward chuckle. “Stupid joke.” You could swear he looked a little flustered but you couldn’t tell. Without another thought and probably moving quicker than natural you found yourself accepting his invitation. You sat down exactly we’re he patted and instantly got back to work.

Jinyoung's hands sort of just hovered while he tried to process the moment. He didn’t expect you to actually sit but now that he felt the warmth of your body against his he knew that if anyone moved it would be game over. Without even breathing he rested his arms on the arm rest. He wasn’t gonna be the one to forfeit this silly little game you two were playing, and had been playing for a while now.

On second thought maybe only he knew about it because you didn’t seem phased at all. He attempted to take a breath but instantly regretted it when your scent filled his nose. You smelled just as sweet as you always did but right now he wished you didn’t.

Have you always been this gorgeous? He asked himself one day while he was sitting in your studio. He was simply watching you work as he always did when suddenly he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering. Your soft hair you had pulled away from your beautiful face. Your pretty lips that you chewed on as you thought. The curve of your body. Stop! Don’t be a freaking creep. He wanted to keep exploring but he forced himself to look away.

And now that he was sitting here with your perfect ass pressed against him he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He swallowed and you shifted as you turned to face him. Shit!

“What? Am I heavy?” You asked with a tilt of your pretty little head while a smile tugged at the corner of your soft lips.

Jinyoung licked his lips nervously as your movement made you now pressed dangerously close to him.

You started to move again and he quickly put his hands on your waist, stopping your movement.

Your eyes looked at his moistened lips as you nervously swallowed. Jinyoung's hands felt warm against your body and now your stomach and heart were in a boxing match for the thousandth time today. You repositioned yourself so you could face him better, curious to know his next move.

His grip on your waist tightened.

“What’s our relationship these days?” You whispered.

Jinyoung's eyelids fluttered in shock.

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung whispered back.

“I can’t stop thinking about you… in a way a friend wouldn’t think about another friend.”

Jinyoung was silent. Your brain was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Your heart was pounding so loud you swore he could hear it.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” You said quickly and panic set in.

“Y/N…”

“Danm it, I’m such a fucking idiot!” You said exasperatingly. You moved to get up but you felt Jinyoung’s strong hand holding you in place.

“I’ve been thinking about you in a way a friend wouldn’t think about another friend as well.” Jinyoung said.

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Things like how your body would feel in my hands.” He continued. “Like how your lips would taste. Honestly I think that I think about kissing you a lot more than I should.”

His hand softly held your chin while his eyes traced your lips.

“…Do it then.” You said with a little frown on your face.

You were being driven crazy by the fact that you hadn’t been the only one who wanted to make out but somehow for months now you’d simply been wasting time.

He laughed at you but ultimately he felt the same.

His lips were as soft as they looked. And now they were hot against you and what’s more he tasted absolutely heavenly. His hands now rested on your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw as he deepened the kiss. Your chest pressed against his and you felt the pounding of his heart. Or was that your heart?

Jinyoung had to force himself to take a moment to breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Was it possible that he was actually kissing you? He secretly pinched himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

“Owe!” You said suddenly.

You pulled back and looked at him with a frown.You looked absolutely delicious with your kissed pink lips and your flushed cheeks.

He couldn’t help but laugh. You hit him in the chest before rubbing the spot on your thigh that he pinched.

“I wanted to check if this was real or not.” Jinyoung finally said now that he was done laughing at your cuteness.

“Then pinch yourself doofus.” You said playfully, swatting at him.

He caught your hands.

“We’re so close right now I couldn’t tell.”

With those words Jinyoung was reminded of just how close you two were. Your hand rested on his thigh dangerously close to his crotch. Your heaved chest with every breath drawing his attention to your now unzipped sweater and your sweat glistened chest. He could tell you caught him staring but this time he didn’t look away.

Jinyoung watched you as you finished unzipping your sweater and revealing all that was underneath. You were absolutely mesmerizing. You let your sweater fall from your shoulders.

Kisses. You felt his breath all over your body along with his strong hands squeezing you as if it were life and death. His lips were all over yours and then your neck and then your nipples and then your shoulders and back to your lips. He was starved

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered breathlessly in his ear. “Let’s go to the couch”

Jinyoung instantly complied, standing up with you before walking over to your couch and gently laying you down.

Hovering above you, Jinyoung took in the sight before him. “How could you possibly be real?” He thought out loud only realizing the mistake when your face burned crimson.

He leaned in and softly kissed you again.

You felt his hardness pressed against your thigh as he leaned. It didn’t matter if this was a good idea or not because it was happening and you sure as hell weren’t gonna stop it.

The more you kissed pressed against each other in varying positions the harder it became to keep your underwear on. Giving up entirely you finished stripping. Oddly there was no discomfort in the moment. You thought that after all this time of minimum interaction laying beneath a man completely naked would make you feel beyond uncomfortable but you didn’t. His eyes flickered across every inch of you, taking you in like you were the most beautiful person in the world.

“Your turn.” You said breaking the silence.

Without a word Jinyoung followed suit.

The eye contact was intense’ neither of you having any desire to look away. The atmosphere felt deliciously tense so obviously the clown in you instantly resorted to making a joke.

“I did not see today going this way.” You joked. “I would’ve worn my sexy underwear.”

“You’re not wearing anything now so it doesn’t really matter.” He said before using the silence as a chance to gaze at your body again.

“Good point. So… we fucken or what? I’m getting cold.”

Once again Jinyoung’s beautiful laugh filled the room and vibrated against your body.

“No one can ever say you’re not a romantic. Geez we’re having a moment.”

“Sorry. I think I’m just stupid horny right now.”

“Well, can’t say I didn’t try.” He said before sitting up on the couch, pulling you on top of him.

You naturally straddled his lap, kisses peppering your skin the moment you were seated.

“Condom.” He mumbled in between kisses.

With a groan you pulled, breaking the bliss and got up to grab the box you always kept at your studio. You know what they say, better safe than unquenchably horny.

Jinyoung's eyes tracked you the whole way through with an odd expression that only relaxed when he noticed the box was still sealed.

If he was being honest then he would’ve just said that the thought of another man being with you drove him insane. But instead of sounding like a psychopath by saying that he just laughed and said “Good thing you’re always prepared.

“Would you believe me if I told you I bought these for you.”

His laugh was replaced with rapid blinking as he stared at you in slightly confused shock. If what he thought you were saying was what you were saying he wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

“Don’t get too excited.” You said when you finally made your way back over to him. “You’re just the only person I thought I would have sex with in my studio.

He took the box from you and looked at it.

“Should a be concerned that you know my size?” He said with an eyebrow raise.

You put your hand up in defense.”I swear it was just a guess. Wait…that’s not really helping my case.”

“Soooo, what you’re saying is not only did you spend time thinking about what size my dick is, you also went out and bought a pack of condoms for the purpose of having sex with me even though our relationship was platonic.” He said, shaking his head in false disapproval.

He couldn’t help teasing you as he took a condom out of the box.

You smiled, completely unfazed by his words, as you playfully snatched the condom from him and tossed the box to the side.

“How much of a pervert am I if I say I also fantasized about doing this?” You questioned as you slowly brought the wrapper to your lips before using your teeth to open it.

Jinyoung watched you almost in a daze as you discarded the wrapper on the floor, the condom resting between your lips. With your free hand you reached over and began to stroke him.

A groan slipped from his lips. The feeling of your soft hands around him was overwhelming. A pearl of pre-cum formed at the tip and you bent over and seductively licked it off. This time he couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out.

You were starting to get impatient as your desire for him ticked higher. You sat back up and rolled the condom down his shaft before shifting onto his lap.

Jinyoungs kisses were instinctive, the moment your lips were near his were against them. His hands feverishly touched you everywhere they could reach.

“I need you inside of me now.” You moaned in between kisses. You were never good about waiting so you honestly couldn’t believe that you’ve made it this long without him inside of you.

You propped yourself on your knees, making sure you were holding eye contact while you wrapped your hand around him and guided him to your entrance. You took your time as he stretched you, the pain mixing into pleasure.

Jinyoung's breath quickened the moment he saw himself bottomed out inside of you. Afraid to hurt you he fought himself to stay still, letting you take the lead.

When you were ready you nodded to let him know he could move. He pushed against your insides deliciously and the noises that spilled from you were uncontrollable. You used his shoulders to steady yourself, your mind slipping from the pleasure.

The sounds of your breathy moans filled the room making Jinyoung’s head spin in delight. He was sensitive to your every movement . The way you fluttered around him. The way your hands wrapped increasingly tighter onto his neck and shoulders with every pulse that went through your body. The way you whispered his name mixed in with a mumble of curses that he was pretty sure you just made up. The way the sweat that glistens on your body under the purple computer light made you look absolutely otherworldly. He didn’t know how much more he could take so when you said you were getting close he could finally exhale. Mesmerized, he watched your face as your orgasm crashed through you. Beautiful couldn’t justifyingly describe you.

The feeling that boomed through your body was heavenly. Jinyoung followed soon after, his movement steadying as the aftershocks dwindled.

His strong arms held you close as if letting you go wasn’t even an option.

At some point you felt as if you were drifting to sleep so you shook the drowsiness away and forced yourself to get up. Jinyoung protested a little but he knew that you both had work to do.

You two cleaned up and put back on your clothes.

There was silence in the room that was only slightly awkward now that everything was set and done.

“Do you wanna finish the song?” You asked heading to sit in your chair.

“Yeah. What should I order for dinner?” He said picking up his phone and going to the delivery app.

“You pick. I don’t really- *gasp*.”

“What?” Jinyoung rushed towards you.”

“The mic in here was recording.”

You two looked at the sound waves of the recording that stretched across the monitor.

Clicking on the highest waves you hit play as curiosity got the best of you. Instant embarrassment washed over you as you listened to the sounds of your moans over the speakers.

“That’s so embarrassing.” You groaned and moved to delete the audio when Jinyoung stopped you.

“Wait. Don’t. I think we should use this.”

“Use it?” You said, raising your eyebrow.

“In the song.”

You still looked at you quizzically so he took your mouse and started working himself.

When he was done with layering the sounds on a small piece he hit play.

The song filled the studio and you winced in anticipation. Wait a minute you, that actually sounds really freaking good. The layering of your voices paired really well and the slightly altered moans in the backing really added more depth to the previous empty feeling beat.

“Shit. I like it.” You said, smiling up at him.

Jinyoung smiled back down at you, his dimples looking absolutely adorable as he did. Seeing his chance while your face was lifted towards him he quickly stole a kiss.

“We make a good team huh?” He said after, his face still tantalizingly close to yours sending butterflies back into your stomach.

“I guess we do.”

You stayed like that for a moment before a notification on his phone pulled you out of it.

“The food is here. I’ll go get it, be right back.

“Perfect, I’m starving.”

He lingered for one moment longer before leaving to grab the food.

You let out a breath you just realized you were holding and went back to finishing the song, a big happy grin covering your face.

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