CHAINED UP || J.JK × Reader

Chapter 2 | Bad influence

After only short minutes, I hear him leave his bedroom and see him walk down the stairs. Wearing the tight pair of jeans and black long sleeved t-shirt I picked for him, he passes by the living room to head up to me.

"Why did you take the tightest pants I own?" he sits down in front of me and grabs his fork, and I do so. "Well, I didn't know they were the tightest, but what? Don't you like them?"

"They're too tight," he shakes his head and shoves some scrambled eggs in his mouth. "Why do you own them then?"

"Cause I like them tight sometimes," he smirks, shamefully and raises his eyes up to mine. I smile, no matter the innuendo behind those words, and I do not even comment on it. "What did you do for four hours here?" he changes of subject.

"Cleaned, tidied up, and cooked," I recall my own actions to tell him the truth, but watch him make a mess with his toasted bread, eggs, and ketchup while eating.

"Are you good? You need my help to eat?" I chuckle and make fun of him, playfully. "Shut up," he smiles and licks the sauce off his fingers, before grabbing a tissue. "Did you warn your parents at least?"

"They're too busy to care," I take another tissue out the box to place it next to his dish, and I take another bite of my food. "Glad to see they're the reflection of my mother, that's insane," he raises his eyebrows, leaving some sarcasm out of his mouth.

"Well, at least you have your own house now. I don't," I point out what differs, and he looks into my eyes with his big ones. "What do you mean? You're home here."

His sweet words make me feel bashful, and I glance down at my food. "I know you take care of me more than I take care of you, but still, it's your home here," he does not help me show less emotions, always making me feel loved. "I like taking care of you."

"Yeah. I feel like you just enjoy babying me," he states, but quickly continues. "But in a good way. Like, I see it when I call you mommy. There's this little expression of satisfaction drawn on your face whenever–"

"That is absolutely not true," I defend myself, understanding what he is implying by that. "I just like making you feel good and pampered, there's no other reason behind it."

"Mhmh," he bites in the toast, grinning and not believing my honest words at all. "Making me feel good. You're right."

I laugh out of nervousness and avoid making eye contact. "Stop always twisting my words. You know what I mean."

"I know, I just like teasing you," he stops doing it, letting me breathe and have a break.

20 minutes later...

"Leave it in the sink, I'll rinse them for the dishwasher later," he tells me to do, but I do not listen, knowing he will not do it. I quickly do it myself and pass the three dishes under the water to put them in the dishwasher.

"Ugh, y/n..." he moans my name and makes some noise, so I turn around after turning the dishwasher on and see him get up from the chair. "I'm gonna spank you," he scoffs and walks up to the living room.

However, I do no follow yet. I look in one of the cabinets and take some Arnica and healing ointment out. I do not put the small basket back where it was, I wash my hands and head towards him with the products. I sit down next to him on the sofa but receive a confused look. "What are you doing?"

"You know it," I gently take his tattooed hand in mine and put it down on my thigh to apply some ointment on his knuckles. "I just punched a wall because I was drunk."

"And the wall punched you back in the ribs?" I glance up at him. "Uh?" I force him to be honest after hearing another lie, and he cannot even hold back from smiling and averting his eyes from me. "Next time I don't answer your texts, don't come to my house."