MY FLOWER BLOOMS WHERE YOU ARE || JIKOOK

22

Jungkook pov

I am such a stupid fuck.

The biggest, stupidest fuck in the whole entire universe. No, actually.

Not just on planet earth, but I'm stupider than any of the humans on earth as well as any other extra-terrestrial beings up there in space.

looking down on me from their own versions of the International Space Station, laughing and taunting me as I continue to fawn and pine over my very straight, best friend.

I thought it was funny wiping the grape soda from his face that I sprayed over him becos, one that is what any decent human being would do and two becos I was the one who made him sticky unfortunately not in the way that I dream of in the first place.

So, I should be the one to rectify the mess I made and that's exactly what I did.

I rectified my mess...

I stupidly, because I'm a stupidly, stupid fucker, proceeded to wipe the sticky grapey substance from his face, his stupidly smooth.

And stupidly handsome face, and went on to then suck on my stupidly sticky fingers and threw back at him the flirty words from our double date with hobi and Tae about grape being his favourite flavour.

Did I say that I was stupid?

I really thought pretending to be in a fake relationship with Jimin would be a piece of cake considering we spend every waking moment with one another, but that was before we threw the fake intimacy into the mix.

My poor little heart can't seem to isolate what is real and what is fake anymore.

My poor little heart is in overdrive and over working when I'm with Jimin and that's saying something.

Becos it's usually beating harder than what I assume would be considered medically normal.

"What are you thinking about, buttercup?" Jimin says as he rolls onto his stomach and bops his finger on my nose and I scrunch my face.

"You've got some hella deep thinking lines going on, on that forehead of yours." He says with a laugh.

"Do you really want to be causing wrinkles this young?" he deadpans.

I scowl as I pull my face from him, "Can you please stop calling me buttercup, you sound like my grandmother and it's freaking weird."

He chuckles as he picks his phone up and starts scrolling through it.

"No can do, buttercup. It's my favourite thing to call you," he pauses and glances at me.

"You know that." He says before turning his attention back to the Apple device in his hands.

I sigh, "And why is that?"

"Huh?"

I groan and drag my hands down my face, "Why are you so intent on calling me buttercup? Is there some kind of meaning behind it, or do you just like calling me it because you know that shit drives me insane?"

He's been calling me the stupid nickname for years and not just in the company of each other.

He calls me that shit when we are around other people which is so horrifically mortifying.

The guys on the team absolutely love it however and practically egg jimin on to get him to call it me.

It's gotten to the point that I've received gifts of the buttercup variety.

The most recent being a buttercup jockstrap.

One, I don't know why the guys are buying me that in the first place and secondly, where the fuck does one acquire a jockstrap with buttercups on it?