Three In a Bed | got7 x reader

Messy

Living with Jackson is... messy.

He leaves his shirts everywhere. Never clears up his dishes once he has eaten and obviously hasn't used a vacuum cleaner for at least ten years.

For the past three days, you've been picking up his shirts from the floor of the living room, clearing up his dishes and hoovering the floor.

Yugyeom calls every night.

The routine is what you need.

However, what you don't need is the awkward tension that surrounds you and Jackson when you're in a room together.

You ponder this at great lengths many times a day.

As you come out of your room on Friday evening, you hear the front door slam, followed by a frustrated growl. 

"Jackson?"

He turns at the sound of your voice. "Hey, I... um... how are you?"

"I'm good but what i'm more worried about is you right now. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he says sharply before stalking into the kitchen.

You go to follow him but hear your phone ringing from your room.

Feeling a pit in your stomach as you ignore it, you continue to trace Jackson's steps so where he is braced over the kitchen counter with his back to you.

"Hey..," you approach slowly, as if taming a wild animal. His back muscles flinch under his jacket when you place your hand against them. 

"I... I- Never mind," Jackson says, conflicted.

"No, go on."

He turns to face you and leans back against the counter. You do the same, parallel to Jackson. 

"If you knew what you wanted, yet didn't know how to get it, at least without hurting people, what would you do?" His question takes you off-guard.

You want to help him, but don't know how.

Jackson, despite having a bright exterior had always been a thinker. The first time you met him, he was frowning before spotting you and Yugyeom and forcing a smile. 

You knew from Gyeom the strain idols were put under to maintain their image but you felt Jackson struggled with the weight on his shoulders a lot. Too much for one person to hold on their own. 

Finding the words, you open your mouth but just at the moment a sound rises in your throat, he shakes his head and pushes off from the counter, turning towards the sofa. 

"What do you want, Jackson?" Your words follow him and he stops.

So you follow your instinct and walk in front of him and take his hand, leading him to the couch and forcing him down in front of you.

He looks up at you, eyes like orbs, their stunning depth and relentless sorrow.

You lean down and he looks at you in surprise as you place your hands on his shoulders.

"Right now, what do you want? Right now, can you do anything at all about the big things?" You think you know where you're going with this so you keep going. "You'll drive yourself insane agonising over the things you can't change, so just focus on the here and the now."

His mouth opens and your eyes are unwillingly drawn to his lips before drifting back up to his eyes.

The air around you becomes paper thin.

"Fuck it."

Jackson's words echo in your ears as he pulls you down on top of him. Somehow your legs end up straddling his lap and you're chest to chest. 

Blood rushes in your head and you swear you can hear his heartbeat. Or is it yours?

His hand comes to your cheek and gently, ever so gently, sweeps a strand of hair away from your face. The same hand then moves to cup the back of your head.

You know what comes next.

Jackson brings your face closer to his, and just like a few nights ago, he whispers against your lips.

"I want this."

"Take it."

At those two words leaving your mouth, he captures your lips.

Jackson's lips move over yours like the smoothest dance. A gliding waltz. Your hand comes up to cups his cheek and you find yourself deepening the kiss, all the tension that has been surrounding the both of you unravelling in that moment.

You are flipped over, his lips never leaving yours and you feel safe, caged in by Jackson's strong arms. His hand runs down the seam of your joggers, lifting your thigh. As your hand trails down his stomach, pushing his jacket to the floor and lifting up the bottom of his t-shirt. Your lips ask a silent question and as he answers by removing his t-shirt, you smile against his lips.

Oxygen is a thing of the past as you kiss Jackson. His mouth works a delicate rhythm against yours and you move together.

A ringing interrupts the moment and you startle while Jackson chuckles at you.

He pulls away and stands.

"Where are you going?" You ask as you sit up, confused as to why he stopped.

The ringtone continues to fill the apartment as he reaches down and takes your hand, tugging you up so every line of your bodies meet.

"Wherever you are."

At those three words, your heart jumps and twirls in your chest.

Jackson pulls you out of the living room, in the direction of his room and opens the door. Pushing you against it when it closes, you faintly hear the ringing phone continue but find yourself lost in his lips.

Sliding your hands up his bare chest and cradling his face, you press your lower body into his, needing something that only Jackson can give you,

He obliges.

The only thing that interrupts your lips is the discarding of your t-shirt and he lifts you beneath the thighs.

As he carries you over to his bed, you graze your nose lightly down his. 

A growl emanates from his chest.

Jackson lays you down, positioning his body on top of yours, and pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

And with that look, fear and excitement intertwines in your stomach at the thought of what is to come, both in the coming night and the future.

When Jackson pulls away hours later, it is pitch black outside and you feel like a kitten, needing to purr in satisfaction as he pulls you onto his chest.

You trace patterns onto his pectoral as you fall asleep with his fingers trailing through your hair, your limbs, body and mind feeling sated.

Dreams approach you soon.

Dreams of the man beside you.

Visions of the man far away.