SUMMARY. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do girls. As the first son of the Jeon family, heir to more money than God, he’s spent thirty years being perfectly fine without them. He doesn’t have any desire to engage in frivolous rendezvouses like his friends, nor enter a situationship that will distract him from the title of CEO. That is, until his best friends drag him to a strip club for his birthday and a girl in red lingerie falls right into his lap, and well… there goes that ideology.
pairing. stripper!oc x virgin!jungkook
word count. 17.2k
warnings/genre. inexperienced!koo, virgin!koo, soft dom!oc, stripper!oc, everyone’s horny, male masturbation, public dry humping???, lap dancing, mention of slutting yourself out obv, jk steals oc’s panties, strip teasing, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), titty fucking, jungkook cums a LOT help, cowgirl
note. hi my pookietons! this was supposed to be out weeks ago but unfortunately my fiancé’s mom passed away and it has been a rough time in the household. luckily, things are starting to get back to normal and i’m trying to stay optimistic about things. writing has always been my outlet for my emotions, and having this community during this time has been such a blessing. i’m so grateful for you all and hope you enjoy this diabolical read 🤍
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banner creds | masterlist
Jeon Jungkook has been seeing black for the past 25 minutes, and quite frankly, he’s fed up with the situation.
He was under the impression that his birthday meant doing what he wanted to do, not getting kidnapped by his six closest friends and getting tossed into a Cadillac for a ‘big birthday surprise.’ If Jungkook wanted a surprise for his birthday, he would’ve just asked his assistant to book out a restaurant of her choosing. Or done absolutely nothing, which was the original plan and, truthfully, a perfect one.
It’s not that Jungkook necessarily despises his birthday—although it is tough to celebrate happily when your family is as strict and prim as his— but more that he doesn’t see the point in it. He would much rather spend money on himself, perhaps buying the new car he had his eye on. Not squeezed in the back of his car with his best friends.
They often lived a different lifestyle than he did. His friends worked hard as most people did in his circle, but they played harder. Weekends were swallowed up by clubs and bottle service and girls whose names they’d forgotten by Monday morning.
Jungkook had never quite understood the appeal. He had a company to inherit, a father who tracked his every move like a hawk and exactly zero interest in giving the man more ammunition. Jeon Wooshik had made it abundantly clear that the CEO seat came with conditions, and Jungkook had spent the better part of his twenties checking every box that his father had almost run out of things to criticize.
So, really, this whole thing is juvenile. Immature and foolish. But considering he’s blindfolded and handcuffed, he doesn’t really have a say in the matter.
“Kook! We’re hereeee,” He recognizes Kim Seokjin’s voice, his hyung. Jin was four years his senior and had the emotional maturity to show for it exactly none of the time. He was Namjoon’s best friend first, then Jungkook’s by proximity, and somewhere along the way had appointed himself a permanent fixture in Jungkook’s life whether he wanted him there or not.
Kim Namjoon, though, he trusted unconditionally despite his laidback lifestyle. If Namjoon had signed off on this, there was a reason. Jungkook just wished the reason didn’t involve handcuffs.
“Alright, jokes fucking over. Can you take off this shit?” Jungkook asks flatly.
He hears the car door open, and warm hands are guiding him out of the vehicle, little giggles and snickers filling the cool night air.
“He speaks!” Taehyung cackles, arguably the most immature of them all. (Well, between him and Park Jimin.)
“What a grump,” Jimin adds, and he sounds closer, so Jungkook assumes it’s his soft hands leading him somewhere. “Look at his cutie little face.”
“Feels kinda unfair I can’t see any of your faces.”
“Jungkookie,” Someone squeezes his cheek, and he has to fight the urge to punch the air.
“Ugh, his pout is so cute, Jin-hyung,” Taehyung giggles again, and Jungkook sighs. He can already tell Taehyung is drunk, since he only laughs in such a way when Jimin is shamelessly flirting with him or he’s drunk too much soju.
“I’m going to kill all of you—“
A hand finally yanks the blindfold off his face, as another undoes the handcuffs digging into his wrists. Jungkook blinks into the dark, vision swimming. When his eyes finally do adjust, six faces grin back at him, varying degrees of giddiness painted across their expressions.
Jungkook surveys his surroundings as quickly as he can. He’s in a parking lot… it’s packed to the brim with all kinds of cars, none that are as expensive as his. Bass pounds in his eardrum from the nearby entrance, but when he cranes his neck to peer inside, he sees nothingness. A void that leaves everything up to the imagination.
The front door is musty, worn down and guarded by one man who’s watching something on his phone. “Paradise” in flashing letters hangs off the top, flickering as though someone had forgotten to pay the bill. And underneath it, “Adult Club.”
Fucking hell.
“What,” he says slowly, “is that.”
“Birthday surprise,” Jin jokes, and the boys giggle like schoolgirls.
Jungkook looks over at Namjoon. Namjoon, to his credit, has the decency to look sheepish. His friends know him better than anyone. People don’t gain access to Jeon Jungkook easily—and yet they failed him so astonishingly he can’t even believe it. This goes against everything he stands for. Clubs of any kind are forbidden. Especially strip clubs, where any lone person can recognize him and report back to his father.
As if Namjoon can smell the rebuttal on his lips, he rushes to argue, “It’s fun in there.”
Jungkook snorts, “I doubt that. If my dad finds out, I’m fucking toast.”
“Your dad’s not gonna find out,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “We’ve been here like once a month and you’re not allowed to take pictures. Out of respect for the girls or some shit.”
A shiver rolls down Jungkook’s back at the word girls. The thought of them annoys him already. “This is stupid, you know? I’m not even into this kind of shit.”
“Yeah, we know,” Taehyung slaps his shoulder, trying to steer him toward the entrance, but Jungkook is fortunately bulkier than him. “You’re the king of the land, Jeon Jungkook, refuses to touch a woman because he’s better than all of them.”
“Fuck off, Tae.”
“Dude, come on. Live a little. It’s your birthday and your boys want to treat you to a night of fun. How could you say no to that?” Jin begs, and Jungkook comes up with a plethora of ways he could say no to this.
Jungkook sighs, staring at the door. On the other side of it are things he cannot get involved in. He has a board meeting Monday morning he hasn’t prepped for yet. A pristine reputation that took the better part of a decade to build. He has a father who has Google alerts set for his name.
He really, really should not be here.
Jungkook turns to face the six faces staring back at him expectantly.
“It’s your birthday,” Namjoon tries feebly one more time.
“That is not the argument you think it is—”
“Jungkook-ah.” Jin steps forward and puts both hands on his shoulders. “We love you. We have always loved you. And it is because we love you that we are telling you, as a united front, that you are going inside that door if we have to carry you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Jungkook retorts, and all Jin does is raise his brows back at him. Well played.
The silence that follows is not reassuring.
Jungkook realizes this is one negotiation he is not going to win. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I fucking hate you guys. One hour tops, and I’m out of there.”
“That’s a good boy,” Jin pats his shoulder like he’s a dog and pushes him in the direction of the entrance. “Let’s get on in there.”
The bouncer at the front seems to finally recognize he has a job when the seven men walk up, beady eyes scanning their faces before they land on Namjoon in the back. “Joon!” he calls out, reaching over to give him a firm handshake, nearly knocking Jungkook flat on the floor. Of course Namjoon knows the fucking bouncer—he’s probably reached some kind of reward status at this club. He doesn’t bother checking anyone’s IDs, just lets all of them sidle in.
Jungkook steps through the door and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Goddamnit.
Red lights flash over the club floor, speakers blasting some RnB song he doesn’t recognize. The place is enormous, larger than he thought, with a main stage dominating the room. Two strippers dance on the two poles adjacent to each other, men perched on chairs with wads of cash stuffed in their hands. Booths line the walls, packed with men in varying states of losing their minds. All decked in suits, loosened collars and flushed faces and eyes tracking the room with an attention they probably never give their actual jobs. Private tables closer to the stage are worse. Bottles everywhere, dollar bills everywhere.
The worst part of it all, is how many girls there are. Girls in lingerie, silk and lace that barely constitute fabric, moving through the room in what feels like slow motion. Every single one of them moves like she knows exactly where she’s going and exactly what’s going to happen when she gets there.
“Kim Namjoon?” A hostess approaches in normal clothes—thank god—and he steps forward to speak to her, all hushed whispers and suspicious glances back at Jungkook. Enough for him to know that this night will be anything but casual. Jungkook expects he’ll have an ass in his face in twenty minutes tops.
She smiles at all of them, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Hi boys! Welcome to Paradise. I know some of you have been here before, so I’ll keep it brief. No pictures or videos allowed. If we catch you, you’re banned for life. ATMs are lined up against the wall, so make sure you take out cash beforehand so you don’t have to get up.”
She pauses to ensure everyone understands, eyes lingering on Jungkook, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. It’s not rocket science. It’s a strip club. “I heard we’re celebrating a birthday tonight, so Joon has booked a private table for you all. Dancers will rotate by your table and you better make them feel like the shit, because they are. Got it?”
All boys nod in unison. Jungkook side-eyes Jimin and Tae, and already, they have heart eyes forming. It’s despicable. The hostess leads them through the room, weaving between tables without looking, heels silent on the floor, not once glancing back to check if they’re following. The private table is tucked a few feet off the main floor, with curved booth seating, a pole attached from the ceiling hanging right in front of them, and a clear sightline to the stage. Bottles are already sweating on ice in the center like they’d been expecting them (which Jungkook is certain is the work of his hyungs).
The boys pile in with zero decorum. Hoseok immediately reaches for a bottle, passing out glasses to pour up shots of soju and whiskey. Jungkook allows him to be overserved, because there’s no other scenario in which he gets through this night without being wasted. He doesn’t know where to look, which means he keeps looking everywhere. He’s not stupid — he knows objectively that women are attractive. He’s always known that. It’s just that knowing it theoretically and sitting in a room saturated with it are two very different things.
Jeon Jungkook’s disinterest in women never stemmed from anything other than the fear of being mediocre. His high school life, which should’ve been filled with bad decision making and girlfriends, was instead taken over by shadowing his father at the office or learning how to use Microsoft Excel to make financial reports. College was a repeat, and he adapted easily to the hermit lifestyle he had been living. Even once he graduated, he made no attempt to date anyone. His mother, a frivolous woman who lived off the family money with ease, had once asked him if he was gay or asexual. Unfortunately for her, he is neither.
He is just, quite literally, indifferent to what women can offer.
That’s not to say Jungkook doesn’t get horny (hence dispelling the asexual rumors). Jungkook masturbates as often as most normal guys do, mostly when he’s frustrated by work. But instead of seeking respite in another woman’s vagina, he uses his own hand, which has worked perfectly well for him.
And, well, there is this other… thing he’s kept locked with a key within him. Deep in his unconscious, something not even a therapist could uncover. The fear that he might be bad at it.
It sounds ridiculous when it crosses his mind for even a second. He does not do things badly. He does not do things at all until he’s certain he can do them well. That’s just how he's wired, has always been wired, the same compulsion that made him practice his father’s presentations in the mirror at fifteen until they were perfect.
It is exceedingly unfortunate that this is not something one can research into oblivion or competence. You learn by experience. And the idea of being in front of someone, exposed and vulnerable, makes him want to die.
“Jungkook-ah, look at the girl in the pink,” Namjoon whispers into his ear, fighting to be heard over the bass. “She’s so fucking hot.”
His eyes wander over to where Namjoon is trying to subtly point. A girl in pink lingerie roams the stage, lashes batting flirtatiously as she lets the pole sit between her ass cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t have time to respond to his hyung before he’s being (rudely) interrupted by a girl in light blue lingerie, standing over their table with a smile. “Hi boys, how are we doing tonight?”
The boys, minus Jungkook, whoop and yell, and he wants to crawl into the booth and hide. They’re acting like wild vultures, and his brain is reeling trying to comprehend what’s unfolding in front of him.
Before his mind can catch up, he feels a wad of cash slithering into his palm.
“Just go with it,” Namjoon murmurs from beside him, already clapping.
He gulps as he peers down at the bills in his hand. The girl in blue has climbed onto the small raised platform in the center of their table, one hand wrapping around the pole. Up close she’s gorgeous—warm tanned skin, black curly hair spilling over one shoulder, a devious twinkle in her eye.
Her hips roll in a figure eight, one hand trailing the length of the pole as the other moves down her waist. She turns, spine arching back, and the boys lose their collective minds. Bills flutter onto the platform like confetti, and a small smile contorts onto her plush lips.
With both hands, she drops into a low squat, thighs spread, and comes back up in a languid motion. Hoseok physically slaps the table, tossing twenties to no avail.
Okay, calm down, he thinks distantly. His heartbeat is picking up in his chest.
She spins, one leg extending wide, the momentum carrying her around the pole in a slow arc before she hooks her knee and drops back in a hang that makes the fabric of her lingerie ride up her thighs. The light catches her and Jungkook forgets, very briefly, that he came here against his will.
Taehyung’s on his feet as fast as he can move. Jungkook can only watch in horror as Taehyung peels a bill from his stack and stuffs it right into the waistband of her panties. She giggles and turns toward him. Tae grins up at her and she leans down, curly hair falling forward, and shakes her chest right in his face.
Taehyung tips his head back and says something Jungkook cannot hear over the music, but it evokes another laugh from her. Jungkook’s mind is blank, save for the images of ass and tits flying across his vision.
Jungkook sits very still and feels something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time shift somewhere low in his stomach.
He is not indifferent, it turns out.
He is just very, very in over his head.
The girl turns back to the rest of them, eyeing them up as though to decide her next victim. Her eyes linger on Jungkook for a few seconds, and his heart thumps out of its cage.
He’s aware of what he looks like. He’s not a fool, after all. Tattooed arm, a body sculpted by Greek gods, multiple facial and ear piercings. The irony of it is not lost on him—all that packaging, none of the experience to back it up.
He’s had girls lining up to talk to him, but not a single one that could hold his interest. Jungkook could care less.
But it seems she recognizes he’s not eager to talk to her, and so she focuses her attention on Jimin, who’s practically panting like a puppy left out in the sun for too long. She does a few tricks for him on the pole, all of which are rewarded with bills and yells.
“Candy, you don’t plan on keeping these boys all to yourself, do you?”
A melodic voice, almost like a siren’s, floats into Jungkook’s ear. His body stiffens, muscles taut as his eyes avert over the table to spot a woman.
Jungkook’s not gay by any means. He’s also not fucking blind. The woman that stands before him is an angel, a goddess, a temptation for him sent from hell. Adorned in red lacy lingerie and white knee socks with red bows on them… utterly fucking delicious.
He’s drooling.
“They’re all yours, Angel,” the stripper, apparently named Candy, says with a grin, sliding off the platform, and just like that she relinquishes the pole like a crown being passed. In one smooth motion, you climb up, nimble fingers wrapping around the pole. Immediately, his friends turn into wild animals, even more explicit than before. Taehyung stands from his seat, eyes blanking as he observes how your thong hugs your hips and ass.
You alternate through a series of movements—slow spin, then fast, one leg extended in a line. You hook your knee around the pole and lean back, hair falling away from your face, and the red lace catches the light. Jungkook’s higher brain functions vacate the premises. Money rains onto the platform, more than he expected.
He realizes he’s also holding money, and it’s as though a lightbulb flashes above his head. Oh shit, he thinks. He wants to spend his entire wallet on you.
You climb down and drop straight into Namjoon’s lap like you’ve known him for years. Kim Namjoon, the most composed man Jungkook has ever met, grins like an idiot. You lean in close to say something to him, pink, lush lips brushing his ear, and Namjoon laughs low before responding with a hushed whisper.
Slowly, you pull away from his ear, eyes twinkling.
And then you glance over at Jungkook.
It’s a half-second, a flicker, the most minor redirection of your attention imaginable. A slide of your eyes that lands on him and then lifts away.
His cock twitches in his pants. It is, quite literally, the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. In that moment, he realizes he wants nothing more than your attention, your time, you. But he just doesn’t know what he has to do to get such a thing. To be able to deserve a woman as delectable as you.
A flutter of giggles escapes your mouth, cheeks ruddy as you get up from Namjoon’s lap.drifting around the curve of the table, all seven pairs of eyes track you like flowers following light. Taehyung fans himself with a hundred dollar bill, and you immediately gravitate towards him.
Jungkook watches you kiss his cheek. Watches Taehyung’s hands find your waist. Watches him stuff a fistful of bills into the back of your lingerie, give your ass a playful smack that you welcome with a laugh. He wants to blow his brains out.
He deadpans at the ice bucket instead.
“Fucking hottest girl I’ve ever seen," Namjoon mutters beside him, just loud enough for him to catch, "Don’t you think, Jungkook-ah?”
Jungkook’s tongue is tied into knots.
“She’s a sin,” Namjoon continues.
Across the table, you laugh at something Taehyung says, head tipping back, throat exposed, and the red lace shifts. Jungkook moves with it, recrossing his legs under the table and tugging his shirt down to hide the growing tent in his pants.
Namjoon notices the movement, looking down for a millisecond before peering at Jungkook smugly.
He claps Jungkook on the back, “Welcome,” he says, “to being a fucking man.”
“I hate you so fucking much right now.”
“Your dick doesn’t hate me.”
He’s not technically wrong, per se. Jungkook just refuses to admit he’s right.
Taehyung leans up to murmur something in your ear, and you pull back with a slow smile spreading across your face.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no—your body turns to look directly at Jungkook.
Jungkook has closed deals worth nine figures, has sat across from men who built empires from nothing and held their gaze at the age of 20 without a care in the world. He has endured his father’s silent disappointment across a dinner table for 30 consecutive years.
Like a cartoon character with a fork stuck in his throat, he gulps audibly.
You start walking toward him, your eyes piercing into it. They don’t leave his face not once, not even to check where you’re stepping or acknowledge the table erupting in cheers around you.
Namjoon slides over calmly to make room, and Jungkook watches the space beside him open up and thinks what the fuck are you doing and means it directed at every single person in this room, including himself.
You stop in front of him, and he peers up at you. In those heels, you tower over him, and he notices the smirk that’s curved upon your lips. Evil. You’re fucking evil.
Trepidly, you sink down onto your knees, maintaining eye contact.
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god —
His cock twitches so hard he has to lock every muscle in his body to keep from visibly reacting.
“Hi,” you smile.
“Hi,” he replies with bated breath.
You already know. He can tell you already know exactly what you’re doing to him and precisely how badly he’s losing. Somehow that makes it so much worse and so much better.
Your hand comes to land up on his thigh, snaking up and up until he swears you’re going to stick your hand in his pants. You stop right on his inner thigh, feeling the muscle. He swears he sees a twinkle in your eyes at the realization. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm every nerve ending in his body.
“What’s your name, pretty boy?” you whisper, trying not to be heard by the group of animals that he unfortunately calls his friends.
“J-Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”
“Jungkook.” You repeat the name with so much seduction it almost doesn’t even sound recognizable to him.
You stand up, and he exhales the deepest breath. God fucking damnit. Of course you’re done with him—he stuttered his own name like he’d never used it before. He watches you straighten up and thinks okay. okay, that’s fine. that was a normal amount of humiliation for one evening.
But instead of leaving, your knee lands on the cushion beside his thigh, followed by the other one, and then you’re in his lap. The air leaves his lungs in one swift, silent evacuation. Your lace panties settle directly over the front of his pants and you shift forward, eyes panning down between you.
With a lift of your brows, you move again. Shit. He knows what you found. He can feel exactly what you found and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.
Shit shit shit—
“Look at little Kookie!” Taehyung’s voice echoes across the table, ringing in Jungkook’s ear. “He’s pink!”
Jungkook turns to look at his alleged friends with the dead eyes of a man considering his options.
And then he feels your warm hand, two fingers catching his jaw, turning his face back to yours.
“Don’t look at them, baby.” Your voice is low, meant only for him. “Look at me.”
God help him, he does.
Your eyes hold his for a moment that stretches longer than it should, and then—your hips gyrate forward in a slow circle. The warm drag of your hips moves against his, and nothing, not a single thing, has ever felt like this in his years of living.
“You’re really pretty,” you giggle, looping your arms around his neck, rolling your hips in a figure eight that makes his vision white out at the edges.
Behind you, the boys are losing their minds. Money’s flying, and Jungkook cannot process any of it because you’re shifting again, turning so that your back is pressing into his broad chest. You lean back into him, head dropping to his shoulder, and the slide of red lace against his cock is making him see actual stars. He can’t hide the groan that escapes him.
Leaning your head back to face him, you’re close enough that your breath fans across his jaw. “You’re so tense, pretty boy. These hands doing anything useful or just decorating the couch?”
He really can’t argue, because his hands are pressed flat against the cushions on either side of him, white-knuckled and rigid like he’s bracing for a car crash. “I—” he begins.
“Need help?”
Helplessly, he nods.
You reach down, take his hands and settle them on your hips. The lace is soft under his palms, plush skin warm to the touch.
“Hold on right there,” you whisper. “Don’t let go.”
An actual, audible, involuntary whimper crawls up his throat and escapes before he can catch it. With his hands on your hips he can feel every single movement now, every roll and dip and shift of your weight, and it is so much better than anything he has ever done alone in the dark of his penthouse that it almost feels like a personal insult to every year that came before this one.
“F-fuck,” he exhales. "You’re so—you’re so g-good—”
“Yeah?” You straddle him once more, knees digging into the couch, your eyes pausing to glance at his lips before meeting his eyes. Your finger comes up, tracing slowly along his lower lip, catching on the small metal ring of his lip piercing and playing with it before releasing. “What a pretty piercing for a pretty boy.”
“You like it?” Jungkook feebly asks, even though he knows you do. Every girl likes it, but none have caught his eye the way you do.
Silently, you reach past him then, fingers closing around the forgotten wad of cash still sitting on the cushion where Namjoon pressed it into his palm a lifetime ago. He watches as you lean back in his lap and drag the bills languidly across your chest, the red lace, down over the curve of your waist.
You peer up at him from under your lashes. “You were just going to let all this go to waste?” you ask, clicking your tongue.
“I—” he swallows. "I didn't know—like the protocol—”
The dopey smile that breaks across your face sends vibrations to his cock. “You’re doing so well for me already.”
You lean forward again, closing the distance, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hips keep moving. Without a second thought, he grips your hips tighter.
Somewhere behind you, he distantly registers that the boys are no longer watching. Other girls have materialized at the table, except for Namjoon and Hoseok, who are deep in a drunk conversation. It’s just you and him.
Your teeth graze his earlobe. “You know, when I saw you, I thought you’d be trouble.” A soft giggle leaves your lips. “Turns out you’re harmless.”
“I—” he starts, some distant fragment of pride assembling itself. “I’m not—”
“Harmless,” you repeat, pulling back to look at him. “The sweetest thing in this whole place.”
For an irrational moment, Jungkook forgets every reason why he can’t be caught here.
And then it’s his father’s disapproving tone, thinks about the words you represent this family everywhere you go, Jungkook, everywhere, and the Google alerts and the face his father makes when he’s upset and how Jungkook has spent his entire life trying to prevent that specific expression.
He could call his driver, go home, pretend this whole evening was a fever dream. After all, this is exactly the kind of situation that becomes a headline. Jeon heir spotted at—
Suddenly, your hands leave his shoulders. The warmth of your weight lifts off his lap all at once and the absence of it is so sudden that his body mourns it, an embarrassing physiological grief response he didn’t know he was capable of. Left behind with a raging boner that is apparent to the naked eye.
You smooth down your lingerie. Roll your shoulders back. And just like that the curtain comes back up, a polished version of you, like the last twenty minutes happened only to him. “Bye boys," you say to the table and the ones paying attention halfheartedly wave.
Then you turn to him. “Bye, Jungkook. It was nice to meet you.” With a wink, you disappear off to the next table, and all he can do is stare at the space where you were once sitting, his cock standing tall and proud in his pants.
He becomes aware, slowly, that Namjoon is looking at him. “Don’t start.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
“Ah Jungkook-ah, you just need to fuck a girl and get it over with!”
Kim Seokjin, for all his years of knowledge and wisdom, is a bit of a menace when liquor enters his bloodstream.
Jungkook has become overtly aware of two things: 1) he’s the drunkest he’s ever been and 2) the boner in his pants has yet to go down.
He had briefly considered going into the bathroom to jerk off, but that would be too obvious and embarrassing to admit, even to himself. Instead, he would much rather subject himself to the torture of his best friends and let three other women dance on him to erase the taste of you from his mouth.
Each woman was attractive, but they didn’t entice him the way you had. Even after an hour of sitting at this couch, throwing bills upon bills, nothing felt as ethereal as the feeling of your weight upon him, as though he had claimed you.
“I’m not just going to fuck any girl,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, tipping his head back to take another shot of whiskey.
“Why not?!” Jin motions wildly with his glass, sloshing amber liquid alarmingly close to the rim. “You’re 30! You’re rich! You look like… that!” He waves his hand at Jungkook’s being. “What are you saving your best years for? Soon we’ll all be pumping ashes out of our cock—”
“Jin—”
“Dust will leak from our tips!-”
“I’m going to fucking murder you.”
“He’s waiting for love,” Jimin notes, words slurred from the effects of alcohol. A black-haired girl is draped across his lap, lips peppering kisses on his supple skin. “It’s actually very romantic if you think about it.”
“I am not waiting for love.”
“He’s waiting for her,” Taehyung whispers, pointing across the room. Without even turning to look, Jungkook knows they’re talking about you. Mostly because he hasn’t been able to stop looking at you for the past hour, heat rising to his cheeks when he watches you dance on other men.
“The red lingerie girl has him in a chokehold,” Tae continues to nobody, nodding as though Jungkook is suffering from a grave disease. “I’ve seen this before. This is a chokehold situation.”
“No one except my dad has me in anything, Taehyung,” he argues.
“Your cock has suggested otherwise,” Yoongi snorts, not even looking up from his drink.
Jungkook tips his head back and stares at the ceiling, thinks about how peaceful his penthouse is right now. How peaceful. How completely devoid of these people.
From his peripheral, he watches as Hoseok leans over and cups his hand around Namjoon’s ear. He has known Kim Namjoon for ten years and he knows exactly what Namjoon’s listening face looks like versus Namjoon's scheming face. This is the second one. Very much the second one.
Namjoon’s eyes light up, and Jungkook’s body has a visceral reaction. Namjoon turns to Jin. Whispers something. Jin’s face splits into a grin so enormous it looks like his lips will crack in two.
Flatly, Jungkook asks, “What is happening right now?”
Not a single one of his friends answers. They’re doing the hive thing—buzzing between each other, passing from person to person, grins multiplying like a virus.
Jungkook clears his throat. “Excuse me.”
Namjoon ignores his words and stands up. “Where are you going,” Jungkook blurts, panic bursting in his chest. “Namjoon. Kim Namjoon. Where are you—”
But he’s already gone, sliding through the crowd, and Jungkook watches him disappear toward the back of the club where a woman in all black is standing with a clipboard. The bottom of his stomach drops out completely. He turns to the remaining members of his betrayal circle. “Whatever he’s doing, stop it now—”
“Shh,” Jin serenely says, patting his knee.
“I don’t care that I’m younger, don’t shh me.”
“Shhh.” Jungkook shrugs him off and cranes his neck toward where Namjoon is now deep in conversation with the clipboard woman, nodding, reaching into his jacket pocket. His wallet comes into view. Fuck.
Jungkook can’t imagine whipping out a wallet at the strip club is anything but bad news.
“I’m leaving,” Jungkook announces, planting both hands on the table. The way he sees it, he has about ten minutes to escape before he either blacks out or embarrasses himself even more.
Two pairs of hands push him back down immediately. “You’re not going anywhere, big boy,” Hoseok tuts.
“You’re detaining me.”
“It’s a birthday gift,” Taehyung argues, “You can’t refuse a birthday gift. It’s rude.”
“Watch me.”
Jungkook abruptly feels a slap on his back, and when he looks up, it’s Namjoon reclaiming his seat beside him, a sinister grin plastered on his face. “You’re welcome.”
Sighing, he shakes his head. “For what?”
“Happy birthday, Jungkook-ah.”
“That didn’t answer my fucking question, Namjoon.”
Before Jungkook can pester further, a shadow falls over the table. The woman with the ominous clipboard and headset is standing at the edge of their booth, and she doesn’t particularly look like she’s here to refill their drinks or anything tame.
“Which one of you is Jeon Jungkook?”
Of fucking course.
The boys erupt like zoo animals. Clapping, hollering, hands slapping his back from every direction simultaneously. Jungkook wants to cry, maybe throw himself off the balcony of his penthouse.
The woman smiles at him. “Follow me.”
“What—”
Namjoon’s hand closes around his arm and hauls him bodily upright. “Up you go, buddy.”
“I’m not—this is—you can’t just—”
But none of it matters—his feet are carrying him, brain several steps behind. He’s following the clipboard woman through the club in what feels like cement shoes. As he walks, he peers around the club—other men at tables, women moving through the dim light to reach their poles, money piling on the floor.
He is the only one who looks like he’s being escorted to his own execution.
The woman stops at a door at the back of the club. It’s unmarked, flush against the wall. She pushes it open, and the first and only thing Jungkook sees is red. Everything inside is red. A plush crimson couch curved against the far wall, red LED light bleeding over every surface.
Even the color red turns him on now. That must be your doing.
“Wait right here,” the woman instructs, stepping back toward the door. “Your private dancer will be here to join you shortly.
“My what?!”
He’s so fucked that he might need to use a new word to describe how utterly fucked he is.
The door slams shut behind her, a finite ending to his arguing. There’s no going back.
His cock jumps in his pants, and Jungkook looks down at himself in indignation. Bad, he thinks. Bad. Bad dog. We are leaving.
But he thinks that even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. He’s thinking of you, towering over him, asserting your dominance over him. He’s spent most of his life being in charge, and for once, someone else is taking the reins and letting him sit back.
He stands in the middle of the red room until finally, his legs give up the principle of the thing and carry him to the couch. He should have known. From the moment Namjoon’s wallet came out he should have connected the dots because Kim Namjoon does not spend money without intention, has never done anything without intention, and Jungkook has known this for years and still walked directly into it like a fool.
Pressing both palms to his knees, wiping the sweat off them, he stares at the door. It might not be her, he reasons. It’s probably not her. There are lots of girls here. It could be anyone.
It would be foolish to assume someone like you would not be taken already by another dominant, assertive man. Sure, Jungkook probably has the money that most men in this club dream of, but he doesn’t have an ounce of the confidence that he needs to handle you.
Jeon Jungkook is currently sweating through an expensive shirt in a red room the size of a closet because a girl in lingerie might walk through that door.
The door swings open and the first thing Jungkook sees is—red.
Red flashes across his vision and it’s all he can see or think about.
You step inside and the LED light catches the lace, makes your curves look like they were designed by a Greek god. For a moment, your eyes adjust to the dim light, averting around the space to try and make sense of your surroundings.
But when they finally land on him, there’s a dangerous twinkle dancing in your eyes.
“We meet again.”
Loudly, he swallows whatever drool has accumulated in his mouth. The door clicks shut behind you and you move toward him, heels marking an agonizing rhythm against the floor.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
He cranes his neck as you approach, tracking you up until you’re standing directly in front of him and he has to tip his head all the way back to hold your gaze. Your lips are freshly glossed with red lipstick, he notes.
“You know,” you say, tilting your head, “I was starting to think you were scared of me.”
He opens his mouth (to say what, he’s not sure of.)
“Are you, Jungkook?” You pause, lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “Scared?”
Without a single reservation, yes, he is. But he’s not entirely useless—he’ll never admit that.
Clearly, you take his non-response as an admittance of defeat. Your hand comes down, cradling the side of his face. Your manicured thumb traces his cheekbone. “Hey. We don’t have to do anything, you know. I know your friends booked this.” Your eyes are steady on his, reading him the way you’ve been reading him all night. “Or…”
He blinks like a teenage boy, saliva pooling in his mouth as you hold your words for a second.
“Do you want me, Jungkook?”
Embarrassingly, devastatingly fast, his head bobs up and down before his brain has even finished processing the question. He wants to dissolve into the couch cushions and never be found.
Your smile breaks acros your features. Pearly white teeth come into view, the realest expression he’s seen on your face all night. “Good boy. Do you have any song requests?”
You turn toward the TV mounted on the wall, and he watches you move to it, your back to him now, and somehow that’s almost worse because he can just… look. He may be a virgin, but he’s not an idiot. Your perky ass is mere inches away from his face, and his fingers itch to reach out and squeeze the plush skin in his hand.
With his eyes still trained on your ass, he says, “U-um. Anything. I don’t—I don’t care.”
“Hmm.” You bite your lip, scrolling. Jungkook begins to hope you never turn back around so he can relish in the shape of your ass all night. That would be well worth Namjoon’s money, he thinks.
The opening beat of a song drops from the speakers and Jungkook goes completely still. Of all the songs in the world, it’s his favorite song.
2.0 by BTS.
He’s not ashamed to listen to their music, despite them being a typical k-pop boy group. Their shit is catchy. Sue him.
You swivel back around and your hands come down onto his thighs. You lean down enough that your hair falls forward and he can smell your perfume again. His hands curl into fists at his sides.
Your eyes drag themselves down to his pants, like they’re ogling at the very unfortunate situation he’s unable to handle. Then they drift back up as if you saw nothing at all.
“You know,” you say, your voice dropping to something that would be condescending if it were anyone else. “I’ve had a lot of men in this room.”
He swallows back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat. He’d rather not think about them. .
“But none of them—” your fingers press into his thighs, just slightly, “I’ve wanted to have as bad as I do you.”
He can feel his jaw go slack, eyes widening to the size of flying saucers.
You smile. Lean in until your lips brush the hinge of his jaw, a bare whisper of contact that makes every nerve ending in his body stand at guard. “You have no idea how bad I want you.”
Great. You must be attracted to tortured virgins who are rich and powerful but don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman. “Lucky for you,” you pull back to look at him. “I’m going to take very good care of you.”
The weight on the couch shifts before he can really notice it, your knees digging into the sofa, until you’ve infiltrated every cell in his body. Above him, around him, your hands landing on his shoulders and squeezing, fingers pressing into the muscle there with a small sound of approval.
Your full, warm body settles onto his lap as though you’re at home, and really, he doesn’t think there’s enough oxygen in the room. The thought of how little space there is between you two wrings a sound out of him that he will be taking to his grave. Your panties graze slow over the length of his cock. “Fuck—”
His head drops back against the couch, neck going loose, and he stares at the ceiling like it might offer him salvation. Potentially a trapdoor.
He can feel your eyes lingering on his face, and not a single thing can be done about it because every resource he has is currently being allocated to not cumming in his pants.
Your clothed pussy drags over him through the thin barrier of your panties. He makes a sound that is not a word.
“There he is,” you murmur. Your hands slide from his shoulders up the sides of his neck, thumbs tracing his jaw, tipping his chin back down so he’s looking at you instead of the ceiling. “Stay with me.”
“I’m—” he tries. “I’m here. I’m very—I’m extremely here—”
The pace you set is torturing enough to make his eyes roll back into his head. Your lips curve. “You feel that?”
“I feel—” he swallows, “—yes. Yeah. I feel that.”
A hum leaves your mouth. Jungkook watches your eyes stay on his face and realizes with dawning, helpless clarity that you are observing every single reaction. Every twitch. None of it really matters, since he has no poker face left, has burned through every last reserve of composure he had somewhere around the moment you sat down.
Manicured hands slide down from his jaw to his chest, pressing flat against him, and you lean back to look at him from a new angle, hair falling over one shoulder, hips never breaking rhythm.
“Relax,” you softly say, fingers digging into his chest. “I can feel how tense you are.”
“I’m not tense—”
You perk an eyebrow.
“I work an intense job—”
“Jungkook.”
“Fine. I’m tense or whatever," he admits, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t hold that against me.”
You giggle, and his stomach erupts into a nest of angry hornets, bloodthirsty insects that rival those ‘butterflies’ people get when they fall in love. Jungkook doesn’t do girls. Never has. He feels the need to remind himself once or twice.
“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, and your hips roll again, and he swears he can feel your folds against him. Or maybe wishful thinking.
He just can’t fucking think straight anymore.
“I-I’ve never done this b-before,” he whimpers as your ass rubs over his hardened length agonizingly slow. “I don’t r-really—fuck—talk to g-girls.”
His head falls back onto the couch again, small, erratic puffs of air escaping his lips.
You lean into his ear, lips coquettishly brushing against the crimson, heated skin. “I know.”
Kim Namjoon. When he gets his hands on him. It is so fucking over.
Your hands leave his shoulders. They move, traveling behind your back to undo the clip of your bra in one fell swoop. The red lace goes slack. You let it hang from two fingers, dangling, looking at his face the whole time. Then you let the red fabric drop to the floor.
Oh fuck.
Everything he knows about boobs is from porn itself. But up close, he can see your hardened peaks, stimulated and perky, ready for him to suck and play with. They’re just the right size, enough to cup in his hand. You lean forward, bracing your hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head, closing the distance between you inch by inch until your nipples graze his chest through his shirt.
He shivers, cock twitching beneath you.
“Sensitive,” you note with a whisper.
“I have—I’m wearing a shirt—”
“I know.” Your lips brush his jaw. “Imagine if you weren’t.”
He grips your hips so hard the lace bunches under his fingers. “You have no idea,” you exhale against the hinge of his jaw, “what I want to do to you.”
“Tell me.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when it escapes him.“Please—”
You pull back to look at him, eyes an onyx black shade, lips parted.
“Have you ever touched yourself, Jungkook?” You punctuate your question with another slow grind. He whimpers in response, and the shame of it hardly registers because his cock is twitching and pulsing against his slacks, his boxers already damp with his arousal. He has never been less in control of his own body.
“Answer me.” Your nail drags across his jawline.
Jungkook can’t breathe. All he can do is grip the couch and try not to fall apart in front of a woman who looks like she has never fallen apart in her life.
“Y-yes.” he croaks, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I do.”
“Hm.” Your hips roll again, the lace of your panties catching against his slacks perfectly, perfectly, and his brain halts all coherent thoughts. “What do you think about when you touch yourself?”
He thinks about women, mostly. They’re usually abstract, faceless, nothing like you. Nothing like the warm weight of you in his lap or the way you smell. Usually the entire ordeal takes him four minutes and he goes to sleep feeling embarrassed about the whole thing.
He does not say this.
“I— I think about girls.”
“Just girls?”
Your eyes peer down at him, sparkling with wonder. Your lips graze his cheek and every single neuron in his body fires at once. He’s going to fucking pass out.
God, he’s an idiot. He should’ve been having sex years ago. What was he so busy doing? Working? He gave up this for spreadsheets and impressing his father?
“Y-yeah,” he exhales. “Just—yeah.”
A small sound escapes you, something like a moan. The thought that you could be finding pleasure from this makes his cock pulse desperately in the confines of his pants.
“Well.” Your hand finds his, lifts it, and presses his palm to the curve of your hip. Guiding his grip, guiding your own rhythm, you turn him into an active participant in his own undoing.
“Next time you touch yourself.” You pick up the pace, slowly but steadily. “Think about this. Think about me. And how bad I want to fuck you.”
Fucking hell.
His eyes squeeze tight, tight, tight. Tries, desperately, heroically, pathetically, not to cum. Jungkook groans, and he feels your fingernails dig into his broad shoulders for stability as your movements become more frantic.
“F-Fuck,” he chokes out. “That feels so good.”
“I bet it does, baby,” you purr, and your angelic voice quells the fire in his core. “Bet your cock has been hungry for female attention, hasn’t it?”
“No.” Jungkook hastily replies, “N-No, just for you.”
He’s so fucking close, precum leaking out of his tip incessantly as each grind gets him closer and closer to his orgasm. Your tits bounce in his face, and he opens his eyes to see the sight that will forever be imprinted in his brain. Probably stored in his spank bank for the rest of time. Your cheeks are ruddy, eyes piercing into his, hair moving wildly, lace panties hugging every curve.
Fuck.
He’s going to cum untouched, like the virgin he is.
Underneath the red lights, your hand finds his, and you guide up, up, up, press his palm flat against your chest. Your eye contact doesn’t waver. “Fuck,” he groans, “fuck, I’m—”
You watch him with a faint smile on your face. Without instruction, his fingers find your nipple, toying with the hardened peak lazily. Rolling them softly, you make a small sound above him and a lightbulb goes off in his brain.
This is good for you too. You like what he’s doing. Holy. Shit.
He continues to massage your nipple as you rut against his thighs, and it’s only a matter of time. He is a virgin, after all.
Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his pants once, twice, before he’s moaning and whimpering as spurts of hot cum fill his boxers. His hand tightens around you on instinct, a sound leaving his throat that he has never made in his life, not once, not like this. He rides out his orgasm, shuddering and cursing under his breath, and your hips slow to ease him through it.
He’s not sure how long he cums for, if he’s ever even cum this hard before. But when it does finally end, he slumps back against the couch like his skeleton has resigned. Staring at his face, your own movements still.
Jungkook doesn’t keep track of time, only cares for the loss of the feeling of your body on his. You stand up, using his thighs for leverage to steady yourself.
Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, your eyes twinkle as you grin at him. “Come and find me when you’re ready, pretty boy.”
Jungkook sounds like a broken record everytime he reminds himself he doesn’t do girls. He’s already convinced himself that his attraction to you is some sort of rebellion against his virginity.
That’s the only explanation as to why he’s standing outside Paradise Adult Club at 7 PM on a Monday holding an extravagant bouquet of red roses.
Definitely has nothing to do with the fact that his Sunday night was spent wallowing in despair, cringing at how fast he came in his pants after you dry humped him for five minutes. No, that piece will live in his brain exclusively. It’s embarrassing to admit how much of an effect you’ve had on him.
He’s never done anything nice for a girl in his life. Never took someone on a date, bought them flowers or jewelry, never held their hand just because he wanted to. He finds that shit cheesy, especially when his dad is yelling at him about some document from ten years ago.
But then again, he can’t say a lot of girls have had the effect on him that you do. You had him throwing his truths and ideologies out the window, disappearing under red lights and red lace and just… he really fucking loves the color red now.
The idea to stop by your place of work was a bold one, he can admit that much. It’s just that your last words to him before you strutted off ‘come and find me when you’re ready, pretty boy’ didn’t leave much room for representation. When he’s ready? Ready for you? Pretty sure he was ready for that the moment you laid eyes on him.
Or, maybe you were referring to being ready to lose his virginity. He’s certain Namjoon has set him up for failure, probably mentioned numerous times everyone thought he was gay. In that case, Jungkook was also more than ready, but only if it was to you. Only if it was to see your tight little pussy swallowing his cock whole, eliciting those same sounds you did a few nights ago.
Fuck, he needs to have you.
“Excuse me? Sir?”
A brunette hostess with a mousy voice jolts him out of his daydream, his cheeks rosy as if he’s been caught sniffing your panties. Her eyebrow is raised in confusion as she eyes the bouquet of roses. Chances are slim to none she’s ever seen those around a dance club before.
“Yes. Hi. I’m looking for—” he stops.
Oh. Jungkook comes to the very hapless realization that he, in fact, does not know your real name. He knows your stage name. Candy called you Angel. That’s what he has. Angel. Which is a stage name, obviously, not a real name, and showing up to a woman’s workplace asking for Angel with a bouquet of roses is somehow worse than what he’s already doing.
“She works here,” he starts.
The hostess blinks. “…several women work here, sir.”
“Right. Yes. She was, uh, she was working Saturday night. She had—” he gestures vaguely at his own chest, “—red. She was wearing red.”
“A lot of women wore red on Saturday too.”
Her patience is wearing thin.
“She had pretty hair.” He’s aware of how this sounds. “And she was—” another vague gesture, this time at his own face, “—she was very. You know.”
The hostess does not know. Her eyebrows are migrating slowly toward her hairline.
“Pretty,” he finishes, lamely. “Very pretty. Like, showstopping pretty.”
“Tall? About this height?” The hostess holds her hand up.
“Yes.”
“Works the private tables?”
“Uh, yeah,” he nods. “And uh, private rooms too.”
Something clicks behind the hostess’s eyes. Her brows lift in a completely different way now, a hint of recognition mixed with amusement.
“[Y/N]?” she asks.
[Y/N.]
He turns the name over in his head. Lets it settle. What a gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl, he thinks.
(It’s his first crush, so he lets himself be as shameless as he needs to be about it.)
“Sure,” he says. “Yes. That one. [Y/N].” Your name. He knows your name now. He likes it more than he has any reasonable right to. “Is she—can I—”
“She’s off today.” The hostess smiles at him, fake sympathy seeping through the gesture. “Sorry.”
Jungkook grips his bouquet of roses until his knuckles are white. “Oh,” he says.
“Yup.”
He looks down at the bouquet. Red roses, obviously, because he’s been colonized by a color. He’d had his assistant order them this morning and had not explained why and the look on her face had been something he’d also be taking to his grave.
“Is there any chance—” he starts.
“I can’t give out personal information, sir. Our dancers lead private lives outside of their place of work.”
Jungkook sighs, weaving his fingers through his hair with his free hand. He can’t blame the hostess for her unwillingness to help, but he can’t let you get away. “No, I know. I wasn’t going to—Could I leave these for her? Is that… is that something that’s allowed?”
The hostess looks at him for a long moment.
Then she sighs, rolling her eyes and beckoning him further into the club. “Follow me.”
Somewhere, there’s a god he’ll be thanking later.
The hostess leads him through a narrow hallway, behind the main floor, past a few closed doors, stopping at one left slightly ajar. When she pushes it open, it’s empty, save for the scattered lingerie and perfume bottles on the floor.
“You can just leave them there,” she says, gesturing at the vanity.
She turns to leave. He hears it distinctly, murmured under her breath as she goes, “Amateur hour.”
Jungkook chooses not to acknowledge that.
He steps inside and sets the roses down on the vanity, straightening them slightly, then immediately feeling insane for straightening them and stopping. Jungkook doesn’t mean to look around, but his ADHD gets the best of him as his eyes wander.
Your setup feels very you, although he’s only been aware of your existence for two days. The vanity mirror is framed with warm bulb lights, surface below it an organized chaos of things he has no reference for—foundation bottles and setting sprays lined up like little soldiers, a tray of eyeshadow with so many colors he can’t identify half of them. There’s trays of lip glosses, shades of red and pink that sent his brain into a tornado of horny thoughts.
And, yeah, that’s enough for today.
He turns to leave, trying to avoid eye contact with any of your other belongings he might find. But on the chair by the door sits a pair of panties.
Black. Lacy. Small enough to fit in one hand.
He stares at them, and they stare back. Every single rational thought he has ever had in thirty years of living lines up in his head and says, collectively and in unison: do not.
His hand moves independently of his brain, reaches out, closes around the fabric, and tucks it into his pocket in one fluid motion. Fuck. He did not plan that. That was not a decision he made, that was a decision his hand made, and he and his hand are going to have a very serious conversation about boundaries later—
He walks quickly, practically jogging. His shoes are loud in the hallway, he just needs to be outside, needs air, needs to be somewhere that isn’t the room where he just stole a woman’s underwear like some kind of pervert.
“Have a good evening, sir!” the hostess calls from the front.
“Yep,” he quickly retorts, not stopping.
The door swings shut behind him and the cool night air hits his face. Luckily, his car is still waiting at the curb. It’s a miracle his driver hasn’t left him for dirt, despite Jungkook telling him to not wait for him. Maybe he also thinks Jungkook is a big, fat loser and knew he would need a backup plan.
Jungkook gets in, stares straight ahead.
“Home, sir?”
“Immediately,” he says. “Please.”
With the knowledge of the black panties sitting pretty in his pocket, his cock puffs up in his pants, poking at his boxers, begging for air. Jungkook suddenly feels sweaty, even with the aircon set to 60 degrees.
By the time Jungkook gets home, he’s a full-on mess. His cock is leaking precum at the tip, dripping into his Calvin Klein boxers. He’s never felt like this before, never been so undeniably hungry for someone that his whole body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse.
Jungkook stumbles into his bedroom, sitting down on his bed and pulling out the pair of panties with shaky hands.
He recognizes this is not a defense, merely an observation—he has never stolen anything in his life. He is a man of principle, of discipline, of self-control that has served him exceptionally well for three decades. He has walked away from bad deals, bad investments, bad decisions, more times than he can count.
He cannot seem to walk away from this.
Jungkook brings them up to his face slowly. Presses the fabric against his face and inhales. The fabric is warm, floral detergent filling his nostrils, and he falls back against his mattress as though his spine has stopped working.
“Okay,” he says to the ceiling. “Okay.”
He is so far gone it’s almost funny.
Almost.
His veiny hands find his waistband. The pants go first, then his boxers shoved halfway down his thighs, and when his cock finally springs free it’s so painfully hard he actually hisses, slapping against his abdomen.
Thirty years old. CEO-in-waiting. Multiple degrees. Fluent in three languages. Lying in his bed with stolen lingerie and the most humbling erection of his life. He rushes to sit up against his headboard, otherwise his skeleton will fail him and he’ll fall straight down on his bed again. His cock is flushed, angry and red, glaring at him. The veins on the side of his length protrude, and he quickly gathers the seed of precum that’s spurted at the top to spread it around his tip. “Fuck,” he groans, head hitting the sturdy wood behind his head.
Jungkook lets saliva fall from his mouth right onto his cock, too desperate to search for lube or lotion. Another quick glide of his hand up and down his length, and he’s painfully hard. Your black panties are strewn to the side of his mattress haphazardly, and he makes eye contact with them for a split second.
He grabs them in his right hand. The lace is soft in his fist, softer than he expected, delicate little scalloped edges. He wraps the pair of panties loosely around his cock, and the sensation of it sends his brain into overdrive. Against him, the lace looks improper, something immoral.
He is a little ashamed of himself.
Unfortunately, he is also completely unable to stop.
He guides his hand up and down his length, at a pace that he normally goes at when he’s just frustrated. His brain supplies images in snapshots—the weight of you in his lap, hips rolling against his crotch. He thinks about your chest, bare in the red light. The small sounds you made when the pace shifted and you stopped being professional about it for a microsecond. He thinks about your hands guiding his, hold on right there, pretty boy.
Your thighs bracketing his, what it would feel like if there was nothing in between them… if you were actually—if he could actually watch you ride his cock, bouncing up and down on it as your tits moved in his face. He would probably press his face into them, so perfectly plump and ready for him.
“God, [Y/N],” he chokes out, to nobody, to the ceiling, to the concept of you existing in the world without his knowledge for however many years before Saturday.
Jungkook jerks himself off faster, twisting his hand at the ase just how he likes it when he wants to cum fast. His hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at the way your black panties are now covered in a mix of his saliva and precum.
He wants to see you covered in his cum, maybe on your perfect tits or those glossy lips, taking every ounce of him that your body can manage. He bets you would take it like a good girl, would do anything just to please him and suck him dry of his money.
It doesn’t take long before his mind is spiraling down a drain and he’s on the brink of his orgasm. It was never going to take long. It bubbles in his core, the knot in his stomach unfurling, and then he’s cumming, with a loud whimper and a “Fuck, fuck. [Y/N],” staining your panties with hot, white ropes of cum. Jungkook doesn’t know how long his orgasm lasts, just that he’s never cum that hard in his entire life, not with the essence of you on your panties lingering so nearby.
For a long time, he sits on his bed, panties still balled in his fist. He sets them down very carefully on his nightstand like they’re evidence. In some sick twisted way, they are. They’re evidence of whatever is happening to him, whatever you cracked open in that private room, whatever he has blindly been waiting thirty years to feel and was not prepared for when it finally arrived.
But Jungkook knows one thing for sure: he can’t go on like this. He has to have you, one way or another.
Sometimes, you really fucking hate your job.
Men over the age of 40, married with two kids, will treat you with such disregard, as though you’re a piece of meat lucky enough to be desired by them. Your boss, Natalie, is a fucking cunt who takes half your earnings some nights, just to assert her dominance. Some nights, it’s so slow that you and the other dancers watch paint dry on the wall in your dressing rooms.
But sometimes, when the stars align and the universe throws you a bone, you really, really love your job.
Those nights are harder to come by. Usually, they start with a man throwing wads of cash at you, or stuffing them into the hem of your panties. They end with a private lap dance in the red room, where you rake in enough cash to pay off ten months of rent in advance.
But in the case of Jeon Jungkook, although your night started and ended the same way with him, you were utterly, completely intrigued by the harmless creature you had made cum in his pants last weekend.
His friends had showered you with cash, but Jungkook sat back in fear, watching you with a hypnotized gaze that never wavered. It was like he was captivated by every movement, hanging on every gyration of your hips. Namjoon didn’t need to tell you he was a virgin. You could smell it on him, something you predicted with just one glance.
And now, that virgin had infiltrated your every thought.
When you stumbled into the club on Tuesday, you saw the fresh bouquet of red roses lying on your vanity, and immediately knew who they were from. Sure, you had other older suitors at the club, some regulars, but none that would bring you flowers or shower you in anything but money. No, this was the gift of a boy, someone who wasn’t quite yet a man.
Quite honestly, you wanted to defile Jeon Jungkook.
So you waited. You waited and you waited, but he didn’t show up all week. By Friday, you were beginning to lose hope of seeing the aforementioned man again. You settled back into your old routine, hoping to get him off your mind with older, more forward men. It’s not like you were having sex with them. It’s a firm line you never wanted to cross, made that clear the first day you started.
It’s also not every day a hot, buff, tatted guy with bunny teeth and puppy-dog eyes walks into your club.
Saturday begins the same way it always does. Saturday nights at Paradise run like a well-oiled machine, and you are one of its most valuable parts.
The private tables are usually packed by 9PM, main stage rotating girls every twenty minutes. Bartenders furiously make drinks for eager men with open wallets, scanning for a dancer they can claim as their own for the night. You move through it with ease, a calming sensation spreading through your limbs. At least for now, this place has become your sanctuary. Or until the number in your head for your mother’s hospital bills finally hits zero.
Candy (also known as Lisa, but no one calls her that anymore) materializes out of nowhere, falling into step beside you. Since the day you joined Paradise, you two have shared a dressing room, secrets, lip gloss, and even underwear. She’s in gold tonight, hair pinned up, already counting a wad of bills from her regular client. Her hand connects with your bare ass, smacking the firm skin hard enough to leave a mark. “Lover boy show his face yet?”
“Haven’t seen him.” You adjust your bra strap without breaking stride. “Don’t think he can handle me, honestly.”
She snorts, “Yeah, no shit. Baby, he came in his pants from a lap dance.” She tucks the bills into her garter. “He cannot handle you. That’s the whole point.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going easy on him. Letting him come to me if he wants.”
Candy stops walking entirely to look at you. “You’ve never gone easy on anyone in your life.”
“I’m feeling charitable.” You try to walk around her, but she holds her arms out.
“We don’t do free shit around here,” she squints her eyes at you, sizing you up. She knows you better than most people do, which is usually a positive, but has now turned into what you hate most about her.
“Listen, the guy’s obviously a virgin.” You roll your eyes. “Not to mention, he’s fucking stacked. Like, loaded loaded. He’s also hot. Need I go on?”
She stares at you for a long moment as though she’s watching a car accident happen in slow motion. Then she opens her mouth to refute.
“CANDY. [Y/N].”
Natalie’s voice bellows across the floor. Your boss is standing by the bar in all black, clipboard tucked under her arm, wearing the expression she reserves for moments when she feels her 40% cut is not being adequately earned. “Floor. Now. Both of you. Please, for the love of God.”
Candy mouths a not-so-subtle we’ll talk later and runs off toward the main stage. You turn back toward the floor, scanning the private tables, already taking mental note of the bachelor party in the far left corner. There’s eight guys, sashes, someone wearing a veil ironically. They’d keep you busy for an hour tops, and everyone knows bachelor parties are where the money is—
Natalie’s hand lands on your shoulder, redirecting you with zero ceremony. “Not that one.”
You turn. “The bachelor party has—”
“Got it covered. I need you at table five.” She steers you firmly. “He’s alone.”
You raise a brow. “He got money?”
Natalie gives you a side eye that could scare kids on Halloween. “Yes, dumbass.”
“How much money?”
“Just enough.” She releases your shoulder and delivers a brisk slap to your ass that you choose not to comment on. “Make me proud.”
Cursing under your breath, you start toward table five, fluffing your hair as you walk, rolling your shoulders back. Chin up, gaze level, lips pouted. Table five is tucked slightly off the main floor, dim even by Paradise standards.
As you approach the booth, you excitedly say, “Hi—”
The word dissolves in your mouth.
Because sitting at table five, in a dark t-shirt that hugs his tattooed biceps, turning a glass of whiskey between his hands nervously, is Jeon Jungkook.
He lifts his eyes to yours. For a second, he has the audacity to look surprised, like he didn’t come here specifically. He blinks at you and his ears go bright pink.
“Well,” you say, recovering first, “Look who found his nerve.”
His eyes rake over your figure, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
You don’t want to let the poor man suffer for too long. Swinging yourself into his lap, your knees straddle his thighs. A sharp inhale escapes him, hands flying up instinctively before freezing mid-air like he’s forgotten whether touching is allowed, ears going from pink to red in one second flat. “Nothing to be shy about, pretty boy,” you murmur.
He lowly whimpers. A soft and involuntary noise, his jaw snapping shut like he can take it back.
“I got your gift,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging him an inch closer to you. His sculpted chest is pressed against your tits, and he doesn’t need to take his shirt off for you to decipher how buff he is.
His eyes go wide. “Y-yeah? Did you like them?”
You tilt your head, lips brushing against his jawline. “How did you know my favorite color was red?”
(It’s not. Your favorite color is green, has been since you were seven years old. But he doesn’t need to know that, and the way his body tenses when you say it is worth every cent of the lie.)
“L-lucky guess,” he stammers, and looks so pleased with himself.
“You’re a smart boy.” You press a chaste kiss to his jaw, then to his neck, and you feel his cock twitch underneath you. He shifts a little, trying to hide it, but you press down further.
His hands hover at your hips, still not quite landing, suspended in that same paralyzed uncertainty from the private room last week.
“You can touch me.”
He doesn’t spare a moment. His hands land directly on your hips, curling into the fabric of your underwear that rides high.
“Tell me why you came back,” you coyly bat your eyelashes. You know exactly why he’s here and what he wants, but you’ll let him tell you. After all, that’s what you instructed him to do. To come and find you when he was certain he was ready. Even though it was unspoken, he had to have known what you meant.
“I–I wanted to, uh, see you,” he swallows thickly, struggling to maintain eye contact.
“Alone?” You tilt your head.
“My friends don’t know I’m here.”
“Ah, so I’m your secret?” you tease.
“N-no!” He leans forward, brunette hair falling into his eyes. God, he’s so fucking cute. “No, you’re not. I just—this is new for me.”
“What is?”
Say it, Jungkook. Say it.
“You… you know what.”
“You know,” you say, leaning in slightly so he can feel your hardened nipples through your bra, “most men who come in here alone aren’t shy about what they want.”
“I’m not shy,” he pouts.
You roll your hips over his half-hard cock, and he exhales. “You’re right. I’m so sorry, Jungkook. You are a big, strong man.”
He owlishly blinks at you, trying to understand what mind game you’re playing on him. Not that it matters, since he’s putty in your hands.
“So prove to me that you want me.”
You tip his chin up with two fingers, pulling his gaze back to yours. “Hey,” you say quietly. “Right here.”
Hurriedly, like he’ll lose the words, he says, “I touched myself to you. Like you said.”
“Yeah? Did you cum?”
“I did,” he pauses, mulls over his next words. “I came so hard I almost cried.”
“Wish I could’ve seen that.” You kiss his neck, teeth biting down on his soft skin before soothing it with your tongue. A sweet moan echoes in your ear as you suck on his skin, sure to leave a blooming purple bruise on him. “What did you think about?”
“You… and me.” Your lips travel to a different park of his neck, littering a new section with sloppy hickies. “You…ah, fuck… on top of me, riding me. Making me cum again. I wondered w-what it would feel like if there were no clothes between us.”
Your hands slide from his jaw down his chest, feeling him tense under every inch of movement. “And what did you decide?” you ask. “Would it feel good?”
“I think it would feel like—I think you would ruin me,” he whimpers.
It’s written all over his face, plain and undefended, the way everything is with him, and you think about all the men who have sat where he’s sitting and uttered the complete opposite. Your hands drift lower, finding him at your hips, and you guide them up over your waist, ribcage, until his palms are cupped over your tits, fingers curling around you through the thin fabric of your bra.
He breaks your gaze. Looks down at his tattooed hands cupping your breasts.
“Jungkook,” you say.
He looks back up like a puppy following orders from a trainer.
“Still with me?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, massaging your tits with his massive hands. “Yeah,‘m very—I’m extremely with you.”
You roll your hips forward and watch his eyes flutter. “Good,” you murmur, lips brushing the corner of his jaw, cheek, the soft skin below his ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
“You have?”
“Mhm. Kept thinking about how good you’d feel inside me.” Your thumb traces his lower lip, catching the piercing. His cock is hard against you now, has been since you sat down, and you roll over it slightly, enough to feel him inhale sharply through his nose and grip you. “I want you to cum inside me, fill me up the way I know you want to.”
“O-oh,” he breathes, rutting his hips up to feel more. “I want that too.”
“You’d take it like a good boy, wouldn’t you?” You tug at the piercing, running your fingers over his supple pink lips.
“Y-yes, please. Anything.”
His eyes are glossed over with lust, so much that you doubt he’s hearing a word you say. “I bet my pussy feels so good wrapped around your cock. Bet you’re—”
“How much?”
Huh?
Your brows furrow, and his hands halt all movements on your tits. “What do you mean?”
“H-how much for a private room?”
He eyes you expectantly, chest heaving.
Of all the things you expected him to say in this moment, it was not that. You’re half naked in his lap, you just told him you’d been thinking about him all week, and he’s asking for a price point.
The old version of this interaction writes itself easily. You name the number, take him to the back, take his money, take what you want, and send him home by midnight. Clean cut.
You’ve done it a hundred times.
But then he’s looking at you with those eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. An obscenely wealthy, tattooed, jawline-having kicked puppy who brought you roses on a Tuesday and almost cried when he came.
You genuinely, physically cannot take his money right now.
“I don’t want your money, Jungkook,” you say.
He stares at you like you’ve grown an extra head. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I—” he frowns, “—that’s not—you should take it, it’s fine, I have it—”
You shift in his lap, rolling your eyes. “I know you have it.”
“So just let me—”
“I want you,” you shrug. “Not your money. You.”
He goes still underneath you, like he’s running it back trying to find the catch. His brows pull together. “That doesn’t make any sense—”
And before he can question you any further, you kiss him.
You don’t plan it. One second he’s trying to logic his way out of being wanted and the next your hand is at his jaw and your mouth is on his and he makes a strangled sound against your lips. A muffled noise falls from his lips, and you swallow it down. For half a second, he’s frozen, your lips guiding themselves. He clearly has no idea what to do.
And then something gives way in him all at once and he kisses you back clumsily. His lips try to match your speed, and you cup his jaw in your hand to guide him as best you can.
Jungkook lets out a soft moan, fingers digging into your waist so he can tug you closer to him. It feels like your body is melding into his, becoming one. The sound of misogynistic men waving cash around fades into the background, and you forget where you are. Only a mere moment, until you snap back into it. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he licks into your mouth desperately. You open your mouth a bit to let him explore, and his tongue is so soft and warm that butterflies erupt in your stomach unexpectedly.
When he pulls away, his cheeks are red, breath escaping him in puffs. Those doe eyes of his are twinkling under the light, bunny teeth poking out underneath his top lip.
“I—was that, um, okay?”
Oh god. You’re going to ruin this man’s life.
You bashfully giggle. “It was perfect, pretty boy. Are you sure this is your first time?”
Jungkook nods a few times like a broken bobblehead. You chuckle, shaking your head. Your voice lowers an octave. “I want more of you.”
“R-really?” He squeaks.
Rather than answer him with words (which he seems to understand so little of), you peel yourself off his lap, taking his hand in yours and tugging him off the couch. Jungkook stands, brows stitched together in confusion. You’d forgotten how tall he was, how much of him there is.
The floor parts around you as you move through it, the Saturday night chaos swallowing the two of you whole. You catch Natalie’s eye near the bar. She locks eyes with Jungkook and gives you an enthusiastic double thumbs up from behind her clipboard.
She’d lose her mind if she knew you were walking her highest-paying client of the night to the back for free. That’s a problem for later.
You push open the door to the red room. The LED light bleeds warm over everything.
Turning, you push him onto the couch with one hand flat against his chest and he plops into it with a soft exhale, hair falling across his forehead, looking up at you with those eyes. Puppy dog eyes, you think.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about all week?” you say, reaching up to slide one strap off your shoulder. Then the other.
He frantically shakes his head.
“Taking you apart,” you murmur. “Until you don’t remember your own name.”
“That’s—” he swallows thickly, “—that’s fine. Y-yes.”
You reach behind you and unclasp your bra.
For some reason unknown to you, it’s at this moment that you remember what you’re actually doing.
You’re standing in the red room on a Saturday night about to take the virginity of a man, a man who looked at you in a room full of women and somehow only saw you.
His eyes drop to your bare chest, perked nipples on display
The moment of clarity evaporates completely. You don’t feel bad at all.
Sinking to your knees, you crawl over to where he sits. The carpet is soft beneath your knees. You place your hands flat on his thighs and look up at him, plump, pink lips parting, hands gripping the couch cushions on either side of him. You run your hands slowly up his thighs, feeling the muscle jump under your palms, and tilt your head. “Is this okay, pretty boy?”
“Y-yes. It’s okay,” he hurries to respond like you might rid him of this moment.
“Have you ever been titty-fucked before?” you blink up at him, already knowing the answer.
His cheeks turn the color of the lights. His hand comes up to cover his face and he makes a sound into his palm that is equal parts mortified and desperate. “I-no. I never-I don’t even know, like, what that—I don’t—“
“Hands down,” You tug his hands away from his face. “Use your words, pretty boy. It’s just me.”
“No.” He finds his voice, his big brown eyes burning into yours. “I have not.”
You hold his gaze and run your palms up the inside of his thighs. Every coherent thought he has exits his body through his eyes.
“Well,” you say. “Pay attention.”
Your hands find his zipper. The sound it makes in the quiet room ricochets off the walls. His breath goes ragged, stomach caving on an inhale, watching your manicured hands fiddle with his pants. You take your time dragging the denim down his legs until he kicks them off desperately, left in his boxers.
Even through the fabric, you can see the outline of his erect cock. You wonder how long he’s been hard for, if it’s been before you saw him. You press your palm flat against the fabric, rubbing his bulge, and his head drops back with a groan.
“You’re so responsive,” you murmur, more to yourself than him, pressing slightly and watching his hips shift toward the pressure. “You feel everything, don’t you?”
“Y-yeah, I really—” he stops, swallows, “—I really do.”
“That’s so good,” you tell him. “That’s exactly right.”
His fingers find the edge of the couch cushion and grip. You take the waistband of his boxers between your fingers and look up at him one more time, giving him every opportunity to change his mind.
Jungkook’s eyes say please before his mouth does.
“Please,” he whispers anyway, because he has no defenses left. You trace the outline of his cock—and holy fuck, you can’t believe your luck. You’re the first girl to bear witness to his cock, and its massive, hidden underneath a man who’s never felt the warmth of a woman, never wanted to. Through his boxers, you can feel his girth, how thick he is.
Saliva builds up in your mouth. Slowly, you peel down his boxers, dragging them down his legs to the floor.
His cock stands up proud, slapping against his abdomen. For a moment, your heart thumps in your chest at the size of it, how thick and veiny he is. Fucking hell. You haven’t taken a cock this big in years, but damn straight you’re willing to try.
“I-is everything okay?” he asks, eyeing your expression.
You wrap a firm hand around his cock and he jolts forward. Stroking upwards, you feel every ridge, every vein that outlines his length. “It’s perfect, Jungkook. I can’t wait to taste you, for you to be inside me.”
Precum seeps from his glossy, red tip. You jerk him off a few times until he’s thrusting his hips into your hand. He’s beyond eager for anything you’ll give him, you note. Your eyes meet his, and slowly, you let spit dribble onto his cock, giving you enough slick to jerk him off properly. “Agh-fuck,” he moans, biting his bottom lip hard enough to produce blood.
“Feels good?” you ask, smiling.
“Y-yes, don’t stop,” he begs. Flicking your hair behind your shoulder, you hold your tits together, slipping his cock in between your cleavage. He chokes on a breath. “O-okay—okay—” he stammers, hands hovering uselessly on the couch.
The image of his pretty pink tip sitting between your tits sends waves of arousal to your core, flooding your panties. Adrenaline pumps through you, at the thought of taking this man’s virginity. Slowly, tentatively, enough for him to feel it, to understand it, you observe his face the entire time. His head falls back against the couch.
“You’re—fuck—” he cuts himself off, fingers digging into the cushion. You tilt your head, adjusting the pressure, testing what makes him react harder. Gradually, you move your tits up and down, down to his base and back up to his tip. The slick sounds of skin-on-skin echo across the room, mixed with his soft whimpers. His body tightens under your hands, thick thighs flexing, hips starting to thrust into you without thinking. He’s losing control faster than he can handle, faster than he can pause it. “S-shit, [Y/N], I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna cum—“
But you want him to cum. Want him to cum all over your tits, paint your body with it and let himself claim you. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you let the nickname roll off your tongue. “I want you to cum. It’s okay, I won’t be mad.”
“Y-You won’t?” His eyes bug out of his head like you’ve just spoken another language.
You giggle. “No, of course not.”
He shakes his head like he wants to deny it, but it’s useless. “I– I don’t know, I just— it feels—”
The words fall apart in his mouth. You slow down for a moment before leaning in and adding more slick, dragging your breasts over him again. Jungkook's head snaps back, a broken sound ripping out of him as his hands grip the couch harder. “Oh—fuck— I think I—“
Beneath your grasp, his thighs quiver, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he spurts all over your tits, white, hot liquid painting your skin. Some of it lands on your face, which you lick off happily. “O-oh, [Y/N], fuck fuck, I can’t stop—cumming,” he cries as you slow your pace down, laughing to yourself.
You ease back onto your knees, hands resting loosely around him. Jungkook is entirely too beautiful for his own good with his chest heaving, long lashes fluttering.
You’ve had men leave this room strutting. Buttoning their shirts before they’re off the couch, already reassembled, gone. It’s a specific kind of departure that reminds you what this is and what it isn’t.
He takes two shaky pulls of air, then a third. His eyes find yours and stay there. “I—I think you’re amazing.”
Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered to defile the virgin, because now he’s saying things like this.
You laugh softly,. “Yeah?”
“No, like—” he pushes himself up further on the couch, words tripping over themselves, “you’re so beautiful and you knew exactly—and I didn’t even—I couldn’t—”
He stops himself. Cheeks flooding red, and all you can do is
look at him. “God, you’re cute,” you say.
Obviously, you’ve said the wrong thing because his ears go scarlet and his shoulders cave inwards. “Oh. Thank you”.
Another giggle escapes you, and you hardly recognize yourself. You’re not the girl who giggles during sex with a client, let alone any man. But then again, Jungkook isn’t really your client.
Your fingers wrap around his softened cock, and without doing much, he begins to harden in your hand, puffing up to his full potential again. He owlishly blinks, gulping. “Sorry, I’m just—“
“Don’t apologize,” you interrupt. “How do you want me?” His throat bobs when he swallows, eyes flicking down to where your hand rests on his length, then back up to your face. “I—”
He exhales shakily. “I don’t know.”
You hum, not letting him off that easy. Your thumb brushes over his tip, gathering the precum that’s begun to form and his hips twitch up.
Your mouth curves into a sinister smirk.“That’s not true.”
Jungkook lets a small, frustrated sound slip from his lips.“I just—” He breaks off again, dragging a hand over his face. “I don’t know how to say it.”
Leaning in a little closer, he has no choice but to feel how little space you’re giving him to hide in. “Use your words, pretty boy,” you murmur, “You’ve been doing so good.”
He sucks in a breath, “I want… I want your mouth on my cock. I want you to suck me off.”
Immediately, he turns bright red and you can’t help the delighted laugh that wracks through you. “Kookie,” you say, shaking your head a little, “I didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”
He chuckles at that, reaching down to place his hand over yours, guiding your slow strokes. Your heart leaps into your throat at the innocent touch, betraying you entirely.
With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and kitten lick his tip, and then drag it down his shaft. His mouth drops open on a silent moan, chest heaving. When you reach the bottom, you lick back up, following the path of a vein, before engulfing him fully in your mouth. He’s bigger than you expected, and your jaw aches at how much you have to open up to fit him in. Your tongue swirls around his tip, and he jolts forward, instinctively pulling your hair and entangling his tattooed fingers in it.
“K-keep going.” He bucks his hips up, the tip of your nose hitting his pubic bone. You can hardly hold back your gags, choking sounds escaping from your mouth, tears seeping through your lashes as you take him to the hilt. “Feels s-so good, angel. You’re so p-pretty.”
Your lips pop off his cock as you gasp for air, jerking him off in the meantime. “Yeah? You like how I look with your cock in my mouth, baby?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes, please.” Jungkook pushes your head down, and then blushes as though he just caught himself sticking his hand in a candy jar. It’s not as if you mind—his cock is addicting, his precum so sweet and warm. You lower your head, swirling your tongue around his tip just so you can hear his pretty little moans again.
You move at a steady pace, your hand working anything your mouth can’t take. His fingers dig into your scalp, almost guiding you. You don’t want to stop, never do, not until you ruin him. Not until you’ve had every ounce of him. His cock twitches in your mouth, and his thighs shake. It’s hard to hide the smile that’s curving upon your lips. After suctioning your lips around his tip a few more times, he drags your head up, practically ripping you off his body.
Your stomach leaps into your throat, and the unfamiliar swell of anxiety bubbles inside you. Men don’t ever push you off, and you’d be lying if you said your ego isn’t taking a hit.
“What do you want, pretty boy?” you ask sweetly.
“I liked it when you c-choked on it.” His cheeks turn a scarlet glow, brunette hair sticking to his golden skin. “You look pretty.”
“Want me to deepthroat your cock?” You grin, kitten licking his tip. Jungkook whimpers, and you take that as your answer. With no further instruction, you deeply inhale through your nose and take him to the hilt again, your throat full of him. Your air flow is entirely restricted, and Jungkook—the innocent virgin—pushes your head down, as if there were anywhere further to go. The feeling of being lightheaded doesn’t even scare you, just turns you on from how utterly desperate he is for you. “Shit, you’re so good at this,” he whines. “Don’t wanna cum yet. I wanna cum inside you, baby.”
You hum around him, and your mouth pops off his cock, saliva connecting his tip to your lips. “Are you sure, Kookie?”
You’re certain the poor boy has never been more ready for anything in his entire life. “Yes, please, please fuck me.” He begs between breathless groans, and you have to hide your own whimper from how fucked out he sounds.
Now, you’ve done a lot of things in the red room. Bondage, roleplay, orgasm denial… but taking someone’s virginity? And that of a man who actually might be worth your time? Can’t say you’ve done that before. It excites you, and for a moment, you have to wonder if it’s because of the situation, or because of the man sitting in front of you.
Standing up, you steady yourself despite the ache in your knees. You unhurriedly peel off your underwear, your arousal sticking to your thighs as you kick them off. Jungkook’s eyes follow your legs up, up, until he stares at your pussy with a tiny gasp. You straddle his thighs, using his shoulders as leverage. Your soaking core hovers above his erect cock, and he looks down to see just how close you actually are. “Are you sure, pretty boy?” you ask again, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Please.” His eyes snap to yours, and the sincerity behind it sends electricity through your veins. You take his fingers, placing them in your mouth before sucking on them and bringing them to your clit so he can feel how aroused you are for him. So ready and pliant above him. “O-oh, you’re really wet.”
“I am, Kookie,” you giggle. “You made me like this.” You guide his movements, little circles on your clit. Foreplay isn’t even necessary—you’re not sure you’ve ever been wetter.
You align his length to your hole, and sinking down on him, inch by inch, you can feel every ridge and vein decorating his cock. You're deliciously full, until you’re filled to the brim, stuffed with his cock. You’d had a rough idea of what to expect. You’d done this a hundred times in this room. You thought you knew how this part went. But you were not prepared for Jungkook.
The stretch of him is slow and overwhelming and your walls have to work to accommodate his size. You hear yourself exhale, an involuntary release of air. His face finds your neck immediately and he groans. “O-oh my god,” he croons in your neck, muffled against your sweaty skin. “Is this what pussy f-feels like?”
You can hardly think long enough to form a response, and then he starts to move. Careful rolls of his hips, driving his cock up into you, checking every flicker of your expression for anything that looks like discomfort. It’s so like him. Completely, specifically him, that something in your throat tightens.
What he finds instead is your eyes, telling him everything. He continues fucking upwards, and a borderline scream escapes you from how quickly he finds that sweet spot inside you. His fingers flex at your hips. He gasps and then he’s babbling, words tumbling out unfiltered the way everything does with him. “Your pussy feels so good. So tight and warm,” he speaks into your neck, inhaling your scent like he’s a wolf. “It’s so wet, [Y/N], so fucking wet.”
You need to get it together. You need to find the part of yourself that knows what she’s doing in this room, that has always known, that has never once lost the upper hand. Your hands come to rest on his thighs behind you, and you lift yourself up his cock, only to slam yourself back down. Each time you take him fully, your breath punches out in a grunt you can’t swallow back, your knees working against the cushions as you ride him. Your nails dig into his thighs, red, crescent moons forming. The sound of skin slapping and your wet cunt swallowing his cock fills the room. “Fuck, you feel so good, Jungkook. You’re so big, so deep inside me.”
“Yeah? You like how I feel inside you?’ His hands cup your ass, helping your movements. Despite it being his first time, Jungkook moves like he knows you.
Muscle memory takes over, and you grab a fistful of his hair and drag him towards you. You kiss him.
Sloppy and breathless and without technique, lips catching and sliding, both of you too far gone to be graceful about it. He makes a broken sound into your mouth, hips stuttering.
“Want to make you my fucktoy. Would you like that, pretty boy?”
He nods excitedly, eyes squeezed tight as you milk his cock with every bounce. Although you should be focused on making him cum, all of that flies out the window as the familiar coil in your stomach begs to come undone. Your walls flutter around his cock and his eyes open, looking to where your bodies join to try and decipher the sensation. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.
“Really?” he asks, wide-eyed with wonder. “Shit–keep going, baby. You’re gonna make me cum too, I won’t be able to last l-long.”
You switch to a back-and-forth motion, your clit hitting his pelvic bone, enough to make your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. Jungkook grips your hips tight as you whimper, falling forward and wrapping your arms around his neck for stability. He takes the opportunity to thrust up into you again desperately, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines. “So fucking addicting. I want to be inside you forever.” The sound of those words tumbling from his lips, tone so easy, has something inside of you clenching.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum again,” he hisses, hips faltering as he coats your walls with his cum, and the warmth of him fills you up. Wrapping his arms around you entirely, you feel Jungkook press chaste kisses to your neck, jaw, and cheek, bringing you back down to earth.
When you two finally catch your breath, you rest there, with his cock softening inside you and your nails tracing patterns down his back. Your legs remain glued to his thighs, like the rest of the club doesn’t exist, like Natalie and her clipboard and the Saturday night chaos on the other side of the door are happening on a different planet. It feels like just you two in the whole building.
14 months ago, your last relationship ended abruptly. In the parking lot of a grocery store, which is such an unglamorous setting for the end of two years that you’ve never quite been able to shake it. He was handsome, aware of it, rationing it, using it for his benefit. He never brought you flowers. Not once, not for birthdays or apologies or just because. Flowers were a waste of money in his opinion, and not to be spent on ‘cheap girls’ like you.
You look at Jungkook’s profile. The soft line of his jaw in the red light, the flutter of his long lashes.
There are red roses on your vanity that he left without being asked.
“Did I… did I do okay?”
You pull back to peer at him, and his eyes are sparkling, an earnest expression taut on his face. You recognize what he needs to hear. “Yes, Jungkook,” you say, combing your fingers through his hair. “You did very good.”
The relief that moves across his face is immediate. “Okay,” he nods. “That’s good.”
He ducks his head. “How do I—how do I pay you?”
The ripple of his question moves through you. You need the money more than anyone in this room. You have a number in your head that lives there rent free, that wakes you up at 3 AM sometimes, that is the entire reason you’re here in the first place.
You open your mouth to name a figure, but instead, “It’s fine,” you hear yourself say. “You don’t have to.”
He pouts. “But I want to. You should let me.”
“It’s fine,” you repeat.
“Not even a tip?” he tries again, and you have to commend his effort.
“No.”
And with a calm confidence that was not there an hour ago, “My number then,” he says. “Can I have yours? Would that work?”
You laugh, dropping your face into the curve of his neck, and feel him go warm underneath you. “You have some nerve, Jungkook.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Huh?” Maybe he wasn’t expecting your compliance, but you give it anyway. You’ll give yourself this one.
“Yeah, Jungkook.” It’s probably a bad idea. Or maybe it’s the best one you’ll ever have. “You can have my number.”
The next night, when you open your phone, you read a text from Jeon Jungkook that says: i know you said no tips, but think of this as a gift. open your door.
Outside your door sits a bouquet of red roses, with piles and piles of cash sitting beside it. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.
On the flowers is a note, something even cuter than his text, that reads: give me one more night? - your pretty boy
summary: a little inspiration from lee youngji's “small girl”.
I've always known that I'm not the kind of girl Jinyoung would choose. I'm not delicate, I'm not reserved, I don't fit into his perfect world. Besides, he only sees me as his friend.
So I decided to stop trying, to let him go and live without expecting anything from him, and for the first time, to look in another direction without expecting that he will look back at me.
But why does it seem like every time I try to pull away, the more he tries to get closer?
warnings: I haven't written an au in a long time, so there might be some poor writing, beyond that a lot of mixed feelings, fluff, jinyoung!coworker, AAAAAAAA I loved writing this.
this story is a jinyoung x fem y/n, hope you like it.
words: 8,316 words. (ohmy)
a/n: it's been a while since I last wrote, but I was in a creative slump for a long time where I didn't like anything or had no motivation to write, but recently got7 made a comeback and I said 'why not?'
also, I've noticed that there isn't much got7 content on tumblr, so I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing it and finding myself again.
i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :(
thank u, TQM.
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“Baby, would you still love me?
Though I got a big laugh, big voice, and big personality
Would you guarantee?
‘Small Girl’, Lee Young Ji.
They say that love is not forced, that if you have to beg for someone's attention, then it's not worth it. But no one tells you what to do when your heart is stubborn, when it insists on beating harder for someone who barely notices you.
I knew it from the beginning.
Jinyoung would never look at me the way I looked at him.
Because I'm not his type.
I'm not the discreet, elegant girl he usually likes, and that's okay.
Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself while I change the name of his contact on my phone and promise myself, once again, that this time I'm going to get over it.
But of course, saying I'm going to get over him is easy. The problem is actually doing it.
Because even if I delete our pictures together, even if I promise myself that this is the last time I let it affect me, the next day I'm still in the same place. Sitting in the usual coffee shop, surrounded by the same people, with Jinyoung on the other side of the table, laughing at something one of our co-workers said.
And, by inertia, my eyes search for him.
Memorize him.
His laugh, the way his eyes close a little when he's really enjoying himself, how he runs a hand through his hair when he's concentrating.
Little habits that I shouldn't notice, that shouldn't matter, but are engraved in me.
I take a deep breath. No more.
I'm going to forget you.
I'm going to stop liking you.
Because yes, today will be different.
Today, for the first time, I won't wait for you to look back at me.
Today, I will finally stop liking Park Jinyoung.
That's a promise.
But to be honest, I don't know exactly when or how I started to like Jinyoung, I think one day happened and that's it, there was no turning back.
Although I do remember the first time we met.
I think it was April, or maybe May, or something like that, a month where flowers were beginning to appear on the trees along with the first signs of the return of the warm sun in Seoul.
It had been a busy few weeks, probably the busiest I'd had since coming to this place. Work had multiplied after my partner's maternity leave, so all her work was now mine as well and it was starting to pile up next to the work I had accumulated for weeks on my desk.
I remember that my blouse was bothering me and my pants were not warm enough for the cold office, which was hiding from the sun's rays. In desperation because of the cold, I decided to escape from my pile of earrings to get some sun on the terrace, knowing that I might get a scolding.
But at that moment, I didn't care; I wasn't going to let someone else catch a cold when spring was in full bloom.
As I waited for the elevator, intending to escape in it, the metal doors opened revealing my boss accompanied by someone else. I felt that karma was playing against me for my actions, but at that instant my mind was not for worries.
In fact, his attention was on the young man in front of me and how I had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, leaving the air trapped in my lungs. His black suit perfectly marked his figure, his glasses, always sliding down the bridge of his nose, gave him an added charm, and his lotion....
God, his lotion was almost as mesmerizing as his gaze.
“Miss Kim, how nice to find you around.”
My supervisor's voice snapped me out of the trance that was beginning to cloud my mind.
“I want to introduce you to Mr. Park, Park Jinyoung, he will be your new partner until Miss Yun returns from leave.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kim.”
I don't know how long I stared at Jinyoung, but it was probably my flushed face and the awkwardness of my response that caused him to laugh.
From that day on, we became inseparable.
In my eyes, he was the spitting image of a prince out of a fairy tale. From head to toe, he looked like the perfect man. But it wasn't just his looks that captivated me, it was the way he was that made me fall more in love with him every day.
I loved that every morning he would greet me and talk to me until our workday began. That, throughout the day, he would give me little treats to keep me energized. That he would accompany me to lunch, even if he had already finished his lunch break. That he would wait for me in the elevator so that we could go to the bus stop together and that, without saying so, he would let a few buses go by just so he could stay a little longer by my side.
But to be honest... was there anything I didn't like about Jinyoung?
Ah, yes.
There was something.
I didn't like that I wasn't his type.
One day, as I was on my way to deliver some papers to Marketing, I saw Jinyoung and a couple of friends sitting around having a coffee. My feet were hurrying towards them to greet them but my brain slowed them down, hearing the question Jaebeom had asked the brunette before they could see me coming.
“What about you Jinyoung, what kind of girls do you like?”
My heart began to beat fast, almost as if I had run a full marathon without stopping. Like a coward, I hid behind a pillar while I listened to their conversation.
Yes, it was disrespectful of me to listen to someone else's conversation, but I couldn't move. I didn't know if it was my body or my heart that had decided to leave me there, listening to the dialogue between them.
“Well, I don't have an exact type.”
I breathed again.
“Don't lie, I know you have one” A second voice spoke.
My eyes caught the silhouette of BamBam, who was playfully slapping his hyung.
“Don't be shy, Jinyoungie. Tell us, we are friends.”
It seemed that the pressure caused by the pair had made Jinyoung succumb to their question, who was starting to rub the back of his neck before answering them.
“Okay, okay... Well, I like girls shorter than me, I don't really have a preference in hair color but I think blondes look good, they look pretty. Maybe that they're discreet, elegant, that I feel like I can introduce her to my parents without fear that they might reject her, that they don't talk or laugh too much, I don't know! Right, that's enough.”
Shit.
My body froze.
Suddenly, I could feel the coffee I had drunk in the morning getting stuck in my throat, unable to move from my spot.
I stood there, my fingers clenching tightly around the papers I was supposed to deliver, as if to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.
Discreet. Elegant. Pleasing in the eyes of her parents.
Definitely, of all the things the man had named.
None of those things were me.
I let out a low sigh and closed my eyes for a second, forcing myself to compose myself. It wasn't like he expected to hear my description on his list, but I wasn't amused to feel so out of it either. Like the possibility didn't even exist.
Nothing on that silly list defined me. If anything really characterized me, it was my outrageous laugh, my sarcastic comments that left more than one person speechless, and my absolute inability to keep quiet when something bothered me. Not to mention, of course, my ridiculous height, which used to surprise anyone upon seeing me for the first time.
And elegant? Well... tripping over my own feet and spouting curses at the worst moment definitely didn't fall into that category.
I pursed my lips and glanced sideways again.
Jinyoung was smiling with the confidence of someone who thought he was pretty clear on what he wanted. But if he was so sure, why did he feel the need to justify himself so much?
I forced myself to let go of the papers in my hands and smooth them out with my fingers, playing with the edge of them. It was then that a small smile appeared on my lips.
“Of all the things you mentioned, Jinyoung, none of them fit me,” I thought, feeling a spark of amusement mixed with something else, something I didn't want to admit. “It's almost like I'm exactly the kind of girl that terrifies you.”
I bit my lip, fighting the temptation to laugh. But not a happy laugh, but the kind that sounded more like a resigned sigh.
“Oh, noona!”
A shiver ran through my body when I heard BamBam's voice calling me. As best I could, I recomposed the expression on my face and turned around, looking at the trio in front of me.
“Mhm? Oh, guys, what's wrong?”
“What are you doing here, is something wrong?”
Quick. Make something up.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to check with you guys to see if you knew if Seojun was at his desk, I was asked to deliver some papers to him before he went out to lunch.”
“I'm not sure, in fact I think he already went out, but we can-”
“You're bleeding.”
Jinyoung's voice brought me back to earth, feeling his hands wrap around mine and watching as blood gushed out and stained the papers.
“Let me tend to you, let's go get something to nurse-”
“Don't worry, Jinyoung. I'll go to the bathroom and then I'm going to redo these papers.”
“But it's almost time to eat and your finger...”
“Don't worry, I'll stop by today from lunch, I have to deliver this urgently, don't worry. Excuse me.”
As best I could, I bowed and slipped out of there.
That day was the beginning of something I didn't know how to stop.
After that, I started to distance myself. At first, it was just small, almost imperceptible details. I avoided spending too much time in the same spaces as him, I let conversations with the group flow without looking for his gaze, and I even forced myself not to react when he said something that would normally make me respond in search of some reaction from him. It wasn't difficult, at least at first. I kept telling myself that it was for the best, that there was no point in holding on to something that clearly had no place in his world.
But Jinyoung... he didn't make it easy.
Every time I thought I had found a balance, something about him would push me back. A genuine concern, a warmer-than-normal smile, the way he always seemed to notice when something was bothering me before others did. Details that shouldn't mean that much, but to my misfortune, they did.
And so, while I tried to pull away, he kept tugging at an invisible string that tied me to his orbit, even without realizing it.
Until one day I looked at my reflection and understood that my heart was not only frayed...but that every show of affection from him was making it break a little more.
“Noona, are you okay?”
BamBam's voice snapped me out of my trance. I blinked several times, snapping back to the present. We were in a coffee shop with the team, the murmur of conversations and the sound of cups clinking against plates filled the atmosphere. I hadn't even realized I had stopped listening.
“Huh? Yeah, yeah... I was just thinking about a few things.”
Jinyoung looked at me from across the table. It seemed that my disconnection to the atmosphere had caused him some strangeness, trying to tell me something through his gaze, something I couldn't quite make out.
I removed myself in my seat, uncomfortable.
“Wow, she looked so serious I thought she was planning world domination or something” Youngjae joked, making me let out a forced laugh.
I forced myself to pick up my glass and take a sip. I didn't want them to notice anything weird. I didn't want him to notice something was wrong.
But I knew it wouldn't be long before he did. Because Jinyoung always noticed those things.
And that was just the problem.
My phone vibrated in my bag, causing me to rummage through my things before I saw the screen.
Jinyoung: hey, u okay?
My eyes searched for him, catching him in the way he was watching me from across the table, almost crossing me. A subtle smile, almost impossible to discover whether it was a lie or not, came across my face, accompanying a soft nod of my head.
Me: yeah, don't worry! :)
I went back to watching him, trying to connect with the conversation the group was carrying so that I could look interested and laugh at whatever they were talking about, unconcerned with the man in the other corner.
It seemed to have been a success when he reconnected to the flow of the others.
When the coffee had cooled and everyone looked pretty interested in leaving, the conversation was over, and being honest I don't even remember 80% of what we had talked about that night. Gradually the goodbyes began to be heard, as well as the sound of cars leaving the place.
To my misfortune, not having a car tied me to public transportation, occupying an app or asking others if they could get me as close to home as possible.
“Are you leaving already?”
My heart gave a slight flip when I heard his voice, but my mind forcefully suppressed it. I turned to meet Jinyoung, who had stopped beside me with his hands in his pockets and that calm expression that always seemed so natural on him.
“Something like that,” I replied lightly, glancing at my cell phone screen again. “I'm seeing if an Uber or taking the bus is more feasible.”
“Don't worry, I'll get you closer to your hou-”
“Oppa!”
Our conversation was interrupted by a third party, causing all attention to focus on the newcomer.
Jia, Choi Jia.
Remember the list of things Jinyoung had said earlier about his ideal girl? Well, somehow, everything about her fit perfectly with the description the boy had given that day.
Short, elegant, discreet. Her long blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her sweet smile seemed designed to win over any strict mother. She was the kind of girl who didn't raise her voice any louder than necessary, who always knew how to behave at the right moment.
In other words, his ideal type.
And, of course, she knew it.
I barely turned around to see her approaching with a beaming smile, holding Jinyoung's arm with familiarity.
“Let's go together! Our house is in the same direction, remember?”
A knot formed in my stomach before I could help it.
Of course, how had I forgotten?
Jia and Jinyoung lived in the same area.
It was almost as if fate was playing all its cards so that our paths wouldn't come together in any way.
He blinked, confused, as if he had just remembered that detail. “Oh... right.”
“It's perfect,” she continued, not letting go of his arm. “That way you don't have to take a detour.”
Jinyoung hesitated for a second and his gaze rested on me, as if he was still considering his original offer.
But I saw it in his eyes... he wasn't going to say no to Jia.
And I had no intention of just standing there waiting for him to do so.
“It's okay, don't worry, Jinyoung,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “I'll take the bus, it's fine.”
“But-”
“Noona!”
Another voice interrupted me before Jinyoung could continue speaking. BamBam approached with the phone in his hand and an excited expression.
“Where are you going now, noona?”
“I'm going to catch the bus.”
“No noona! A friend is coming to pick me up and he can bring you closer to your house too, he's in the same direction where we're going. He has no problem with you joining us on our journey.”
I inwardly thanked him for his sudden intervention and nodded quickly. “Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience anyone.”
“Trust me, you won't.” He said with a mischievous grin. “Besides, it sure will do him good to meet more people.”
Just then, and almost falling from the sky, the lights of a black car illuminated part of the parking lot as it pulled up in front of us.
“There he is,” BamBam announced, raising his hand in greeting.
The driver's door opened, and out stepped a tall boy with somewhat tousled dark hair and a calm but attentive expression. His sharp features were accentuated by the dim street lighting, and the way he moved, with a natural, effortless confidence, made him instantly catch the eye.
BamBam smiled proudly before making introductions.
“Hyung, hey!”
Jinyoung, who was still beside me, straightened his shoulders slightly. Jia tilted her head curiously and I just stood static, watching the man arriving to join us.
“This is Mark.” The boy greeted everyone with a simple nod, trying to decipher our names. “Hyung, this is Jia, Jinyoung hyung and my noona, that's who we'll be taking today, our new traveling companion.”
“Bam's famous noona, it's a relief to finally give her a face.” A smile broke out on my face as he finished speaking, thanking the heavens that the subject had suddenly changed his direction.
“I hope he spoke only wonders about me.”
“Oh, of course he did. In fact, I don't think he was able to shut up after I asked him.”
Mark's laughter was catching in the air, causing me to laugh along with him as well. But despite that instant of grace, I could feel Jinyoung's steady gaze burn into my back.
“Don't talk about me like I'm not here! Hyung, noona!”
As if by magic, I felt again that there were people around us, forgetting the feelings that were wrapping around me a couple of minutes ago.
“If you're going to keep laughing at me like that, then we'd better leave, I don't want to be humiliated by you guys anymore!”
I shook my head in amusement as I watched him get into the car, turning my gaze back to Jinyoung and his new co-driver.
“It was nice meeting you guys, I hope we can meet more often.”
Mark's voice broke the silence, echoing softly in the air before he bowed goodbye and got into the car.
Just then, my eyes met Jinyoung's, and my heart raced without warning. I didn't understand why I felt this way so suddenly, but in his gaze there was something... something he was trying to tell me, just like in the cafeteria a couple of minutes ago.
“Well... Get home safely. See you Monday.”
I raised my hand in a farewell gesture before turning to get into the car. But, at that precise moment, a gentle tug on my clothes made me stop.
To my surprise, Jinyoung was holding me. His face reflected an urgency that unsettled me. His lips, as red as an apple, seemed to have been bitten just a few seconds ago. His eyes roamed my face with intensity, as if desperately searching for an answer in it, as if what he wanted to tell me was trapped between us.
With a thread of a voice, I barely managed to ask, “What's wrong, Pepi?”
He opened his mouth, his tongue was pressing against the inside of his cheek, as if the words were on the tip, ready to come out. But they didn't. His grip on my clothes became firmer, as if he was trying to keep me from leaving without hearing what he had to tell me.
But in the end... nothing.
I felt his grip loosen until his hand fell to his side.
“It's nothing, sorry.”
My chest tightened with inexplicable frustration.
“Oh... it's okay.”
A wave of disappointment washed over me from head to toe. I wanted him to speak, to let out those words I was holding back. That he would give me a reason to stay a few seconds longer. But he didn't.
So I just sighed and mumbled a goodbye, before finally getting into the car.
The goodbye had been brief, but the weight of what was left unsaid hung in the air.
The car started up, gliding nimbly between the streets. From the back seat, I watched the city lights fleetingly flash past the window, as Mark and BamBam's voice mingled in distant conversation.
“Noona, how far are we from your house?”
BamBam's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times before leaning in slightly to look at him.
“Ah... Not much, about ten more minutes.”
I tried to sound natural, but my mind was still trapped in the instant I had shared with Jinyoung. Or rather, in what we did not share. Something inside me told me that he had wanted to talk, that he had been on the verge of doing so, but something stopped him.
Was it fear, was it doubt, or was he just not as important as I thought he was?
Mark seemed focused on the road, his face serene, but BamBam was watching me with a curious glint in his eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a lopsided smile, as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I forced a smile.
“Yeah, I'm just tired.”
BamBam let out a slight sigh and shrugged. “If you say so, noona.”
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the murmur of the radio and the occasional conversation between the two of them. For my part, I watched the lights of the city go by, turning the matter over again and wondering what would have happened if Jinyoung had spoken.
Soon after, I could see the cluster of buildings where my home was. The car came to a complete stop and that's when I just opened the door to get out of the car.
“Thank you so much for approaching me, Mark.”
“No problem, besides you were just passing by.”
“Good night, guys. Thanks again.”
Setting my feet on solid ground, I waved goodbye to them one more time before turning around. However, like déjà vu, something once again got in my way, preventing me from moving forward.
“Noona.”
My stride stopped and I turned to look at him.
“If you want to talk about whatever happened back there...you know where to find me.”
His words were playful, but there was something genuine in his tone. I was silent for a moment before smiling sincerely.
“I know, thank you, Bam.”
The next thing I heard was the car start up and drive off into the darkness of the night, as I headed for my apartment.
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I let out a long, tired sigh. I leaned against the wood and closed my eyes, letting all the oxygen in my body go out of my mouth.
It seemed like all my attempts to get away from Jinyoung wanted to be put on pause, almost as if fate finally wanted to give me some of what I prayed so hard for before I went to sleep.
But I couldn't give in to the slightest bit of attention he was giving me, I had to be strong enough to be able to overcome these feelings that were blossoming more and more in me.
I had promised.
I had promised myself.
Be that as it may.
I'm going to stop liking you, Jinyoung.
Despite all my attempts to forget what happened on Friday and turn the page, I had spent the whole weekend with my mind trapped in that moment with Jinyoung.
I relived the scene over and over again, searching in his gaze, in his body language, in every little gesture, for some clue as to what he really wanted to tell me.
But after so much thought, I came to the conclusion that if he didn't say it, maybe it wasn't as important as I thought.
Maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Maybe, at the last second, he realized that what he wanted to tell me wasn't worth it. Or worse, maybe there was never anything to say.
So I decided to dismiss it. There was no point in going on and on about it and gnawing at my head.
By the time Monday came around, I had buried the issue in the back of my mind, focusing on what really mattered: work.
It is clear that Mondays are always the worst day of the week, but it seemed that today was set to be the worst of all. Apparently all the meetings had been scheduled for that day.
I had barely seen the shadow of Jinyoung's silhouette all day, he had been going up and down the elevator loaded with papers, at the same time that I was moving from one room to another to have all the meetings that could exist in the world.
We didn't cross a single word all day.
There were no morning greetings, no pauses for conversation, no little sweets left on my desk.
And though I repeated to myself that I needn't have minded, a part of me couldn't help but notice.
Between all the work and the small but possible breaks there were to rest, it suddenly got dark and again I was at the entrance of the building, seeing if it was more economical to order an Uber or walk to wait for the bus.
“Are you waiting for the prices to go down?”
Jinyoung's voice interrupted my internal debate, lifting my gaze from the screen and observing the brown-haired man. I couldn't help but scan him, he was wearing a casual outfit but one that didn't lose that hint of elegance he always used to have, he looked perfect.
“Something like that, but I don't think it's going to happen.” I shrugged my shoulders before I could stow the phone in my bag, watching him once again.
“Let's go together.”
His sudden proposal caught me off guard, feeling the pounding of my heart echoing in my chest. A soft blush settled on my cheeks, noticing how Jinyoung gave me one of those smiles that generated butterflies in my stomach.
But before I could say anything, a familiar voice interrupted that scene.
“Ah, noona!”
An elated BamBam appeared in front of us, who looked like he had run so he could meet us.
“We were looking for you.”
“We?”
As soon as that question escaped my mouth, Mark appeared at the side of the young man, who gave him a small pat on the back before looking at me.
“We're going in the same direction as last time. If you want, we can take you again.”
My gaze shifted from BamBam to Mark, and then to Jinyoung.
For the first time that day, he seemed at a loss for words.
His expression tensed for a brief moment before he regained his neutral gesture, as if the interruption didn't affect him in the least.
“Oh guys, excuse me but-”
“You guys go ahead. I'll take the bus. Actually, I have to go somewhere else, I'm meeting someone.”
The echo of Jinyoung's voice made me turn around, noticing how suddenly his expression had changed just like his previous proposition, once again.
His tone was calm, almost indifferent.
But something about the way he averted his gaze and how quickly he ended the conversation made me feel a small twinge in my chest.
Before I could say anything, he had already turned and was walking away down the street with his hands in his pockets.
Mark and BamBam were silent for a few seconds, exchanging quick glances with each other before looking back at me.
They knew something had happened, but neither asked.
“Shall we go, noona?” said BamBam finally, in his usually nonchalant tone, as if he hadn't just noticed how strange the whole exchange had been.
My gaze didn't leave Jinyoung's backpack until it disappeared around the corner, feeling again like there was something he had wanted to say but ended up vanishing into thin air.
“Yeah, let's go.”
The rest of the week went along pretty much the same way.
Whenever it seemed that Jinyoung was going to approach me to tell me something, BamBam and Mark would appear out of nowhere with their usual:
Noona, come on, we'll give you a ride.
At first, I didn't think anything of it.
It was a nice gesture on their part and actually saved me from taking public transportation.
But after the third, the fourth, the fifth time... I started to notice it.
And I wasn't the only one.
Every time it happened, Jinyoung would clench his jaw for barely a second before immediately relaxing, as if reminding himself not to react.
Every time BamBam would appear with his carefree smile, I would watch out of the corner of my eye as Jinyoung would avert his gaze, pretending that it didn't bother him at all.
Whenever Mark would make a simple nod of his head to signal me to leave, Jinyoung would clench his fists slightly, as if he was holding something back.
But he never said anything.
He never complained.
He never tried to avoid it.
And yet, that restrained annoyance was becoming more and more apparent.
Mark and BamBam began to notice it too.
Their gazes became more curious every time Jinyoung and I crossed paths.
More analytical when Jinyoung feigned indifference.
More amused when it seemed that, for a second, he was about to say something... only to stop and carry on as if nothing had happened.
And I, for one, began to wonder how much longer he could keep holding back before he finally snapped.
Finally it was Friday, and as had become customary, I waited at the entrance for my trusted drivers, they didn't usually take much longer than 10 minutes to show up.
As I waited, I could tell that I was no longer alone, but that there was a second presence beside me.
“Shall I keep you company?”
My face turned the instant I saw Jinyoung next to me, noticing how he was arranging his glasses on the bridge of his nose. A smile broke out on my face, nodding softly at his offer.
“Will you go with them again?”
I nodded once more, watching his face turn that relaxation into tension as he confirmed what it seemed he didn't want to hear.
“It's a nice gesture on your part to approach me, plus I save some money that way.”
Jinyoung let out a small laugh, but it didn't sound genuine. Rather, it sounded like she was trying to downplay something he didn't particularly enjoy.
“Yeah, right... a nice gesture.”
He didn't say anything else, just looked down and gently kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe.
A small silence formed between us.
It wasn't awkward, but there was something about his posture, the way his jaw tensed and his hands remained inside his coat pockets, that made me think he was holding back from saying something else.
But before I could break the silence that had formed, the vibration of my phone interrupted us.
Bam: Noona, sorry but we're going to be a little late.
My brow furrowed, trying to figure out what was going on with the little context that message had delivered.
A second notification came through.
Bam: Mark is stuck in traffic and I'm having a tummy crisis.
Bam: I didn't have to eat that much kimchi for lunch.
Bam: Go ahead noona, don't wait for us.
I quickly answered that message to stop worrying them and put the cell phone back in its place, letting out a soft sigh.
“Looks like my attempt to save ends today.”
“And that?”
I turned and looked at the man, who was looking at me as he arranged his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Mark and Bam won't be able to take me today” I let out a small chuckle before noticing Jinyoung's face relax. “I'll start walking or I'll miss the bus.”
My feet stomped to the stop, but it seemed the echo of my footsteps weren't the only thing I heard.
“I can give you a ride if you like!”
My footsteps paused for a moment. I wasn't sure if I had heard correctly or if my mind was playing a joke on me. I turned to him with a slight nod.
“Huh?”
Jinyoung cleared his throat, as if he himself was surprised by his own offer. He settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose and repeated more firmly.
“That I can give you a ride if you like.”
“Since when do you have a car?” A smile tugged at my lips, noticing how the man moved closer.
“Since Jackson stopped borrowing mine and decided to buy one.”
“He finally has his own car, good for him” We both shared a laugh, feeling how we were back to feeling as comfortable as before. “I was already pretty sure I was going to end up buying your car from you.”
“Thank heavens no, so I can now offer you a ride.”
Again that look.
That look that wanted to say everything but at the same time his mouth said nothing, with that gleam that illuminated his pretty eyes, and how not to forget those pink lips-.
Stop it, stop thinking about it.
My head shook, pushing away those thoughts that, once again, invaded my head again. I relaminated my lips before regaining my composure, watching Jinyoung, who seemed quite interested in my sudden action.
“So, shall we go?”
I hesitated for a second.
Would this really do me any good?
There was no answer to that but if I wanted to get over it, this was the way to do it, putting myself to the test one last time.
“Yeah, come on.”
We both shared a smile before we could walk to the car.
The drive began with a quietness that didn't feel uncomfortable. Jinyoung drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the window, while I absentmindedly looked out of mine, feeling the warmth of the sunset tint the city in orange hues.
“If you want, you can play music,” he said suddenly, without taking his eyes off the road.
“Are you sure you trust my playlist?” I joked, grabbing his phone that already had the music app open.
“If it's still this chaotic, probably not.”
I let out a laugh as I started to slide through his playlists.
“Do you actually still have this playlist?” I asked, surprised to see one in particular.
“Which one?”
“The one we made together when we first started working together, with the most ridiculous songs we could find.”
Jinyoung laughed low, shaking his head.
“I didn't have the heart to erase it.”
“Oh, come on, Jinyoung. Tell the truth,” I lightly nudged his arm ‘you love listening to ABBA when you're alone in the car.’
“If you keep that comment up, I'll drop you off at the next corner.”
We both broke into laughter, feeling that distance that had appeared between us over the past few days begin to fade.
It felt right.
It felt... natural.
As the music played softly in the background, we continued to chat, picking up old jokes and creating new ones in the process, almost feeling like the distance that had been generated had brought us closer, where we were once again the same people who would scold each other for not stopping talking after a meeting.
At some point in the conversation, our best memories began to surface, feeling my stomach ache with every laugh we let out.
“It wasn't my fault!” Jinyoung protested with laughter.
“What do you mean it wasn't your fault! You left me stuck in the meeting room because you 'thought I was already gone'!”
“I did it under pressure.”
“Pressure from what?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Pressure from wanting to leave quickly before I got caught in another meeting.”
I let out another laugh, gently punching his arm. I could see how the traffic light had changed to red, giving us a break from the laughter we had been sharing since we got in the car.
Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair, blurting out a sentence that chilled me to the bone.
“I missed this, I missed you.”
The sound of cars passing around us seemed to fade for a moment. My breath caught in my chest as my mind processed his words.
I missed this, I missed you.
It was not an elaborate confession, not a speech full of carefully chosen words. It was simple, sincere and, above all, unexpected.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, watching his fingers drum softly on the steering wheel, a nervous gesture I rarely saw from him. His eyes were fixed on the red light of the traffic light, but the tension in his jaw gave away that he was waiting for an answer.
No, I was begging for an answer.
I couldn't lie to my own feelings, so I was honest with him.
“Me too” I whispered, almost without realizing it.
Jinyoung turned his face slowly toward me, as if he wasn't sure he had heard right. My gaze met his, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the need to look away.
The traffic light changed to green, but neither of us reacted immediately. A car horn behind us broke the moment, bringing us back to reality.
Jinyoung cleared his throat slightly before tightening his grip on the steering wheel and continuing to drive.
The silence between us was no longer awkward, but charged with something else. Something that hovered in the air, making me feel more aware of his presence, of the accelerated heartbeat in my chest, of how my skin bristled every time our arms accidentally brushed.
The rest of the trip was calmer, sharing different opinions of events that had happened in the office, almost as if we were both trying to avoid the recent confession we had had.
Sooner or later we had arrived at the apartment complex. My eyes averted their gaze from the large buildings to Jinyoung, who was watching me uneasily.
“Thanks for the ride, Pepi.” A new smile broke out on my face, fixing me as he shared his with me as well.
“No problem, it's no trouble.”
“Be careful coming back, okay?”
Before I could leave, I felt my hands itch, almost needing to do something else. Hesitant to do so, I simply let my instinct decide for me.
I leaned in slightly and deposited a kiss on his cheek, barely a brush, but just enough to feel the warmth of his skin against my lips.
Jinyoung seemed to freeze, as if trying to process what had just happened. I didn't wait to see his reaction. I turned quickly and got out of the car, feeling my heart hammering in my chest.
As soon as the cool night air enveloped me, I realized something.
I wasn't going to move forward like this.
If I kept hiding behind small, contained displays of affection, half-hearted moments and unspoken words, I would never get out of this emotional tangle.
“Agh, what a fool.” I muttered to myself, keeping my pace steady down that path.
I took a breath of air, clenching my fists. I couldn't go on at this in-between point. I was determined.
As I was about to take the first step away from there, ready to stop fantasizing about something that was never going to happen, his voice reached me.
“Wait! Y/N!”
Jinyoung didn't shout often, and the fact that she did so now took me by surprise. I turned instinctively, and before I could react, he was already in front of me, breathing in agitation from catching up to me so quickly.
“Jinyoung... What are you doing, why are you here?”
“Are you still going with them?”
His question surprised me a little.
Had he run that far to ask me that?
“What? What do you mean?”
“If Mark and Bambam keep telling you to go with them, will you?”
I stared at him, sensing that his question had a second meaning. I didn't mean it because of the way he said it or the context, but because, for the first time, his eyes were watching me and telling me what they had hidden so much, what caused that special gleam in them.
“I-I, uhm, I don't know, I think-”
“You don't have to go with them. Let's go together.”
His voice sounded firm, but there was something else in his tone: a silent plea, a truth that had been holding back too long.
I stood still, feeling my chest shrink with unexpected warmth. My mouth felt dry and all the words I had thought of at that moment had vanished, feeling lost in the intense gaze Jinyoung held.
“I don't want to keep watching you walk away” He whispered, with the intensity of one who has held on to something too long. “I don't want to keep walking behind you, waiting for you to turn around. I want you to stay. With me.”
The world seemed to stop.
I don't know if it was the way he said it, with that perfect mix of sweetness and conviction, or the way his gaze held me so securely, but I felt my heart stop for a second only to then beat harder.
Jinyoung didn't speak without thinking. And if he said something like that... it was because he really meant it.
“What are you talking about, Jinyoung? W-what? What about Jia?”
As soon as I mentioned the girl's name, it seemed that suddenly his face turned into confusion.
“What does she have to do with it?”
“Please Pepi, it's obvious. She's...”
I struggled to keep my gaze on his, feeling I wasn't strong enough to tell him, to admit what was obvious.
“She's everything you want. From head to toe she's your ideal girl, Jinyoung.”
He took a step forward, eliminating any space between us. My breath hitched as he brought his hand to my face, with the softness of someone who feared he might vanish at any moment. Our gazes reconnected almost instantly, leaving my heart rate to rise again.
“It's not, of course not.”
“Please don't deny it to make me feel better, I heard you.”
My teeth caught my bottom lip, holding back the urge to cry that was starting to grow in my body as I remembered that instant.
“I heard you that time, when Jaebeom asked you what your ideal type of girl was. You described her perfectly, out of your whole list of things, Jia was the spitting image.”
A laugh escaped the boy's lips, feeling that what he had just heard was the funniest thing anyone could have said to him.
“No, it's not true.”
Before I could respond anything, feeling offended at the uncharacteristic way he had called me a liar, he continued speaking.
“She was never my type.”
Jinyoung brought one of his hands to the back of his neck, ruffling his hair a little, as if gathering all the courage he had to finally let out everything he was holding back.
“I made up that list” He finally admitted, his voice laden with a mixture of frustration and something deeper. “Not because Jia was my type... but because if I said what I really liked, Jaebeom and BamBam would have noticed instantly.”
My eyes widened even more, hearing the loud gallop of my heart in my ears. My lips parted in shock.
“Realized? Realized what?”
His eyes bore into mine, serious and vulnerable at the same time.
“That the only person who fit my true description perfectly...was you.”
The air seemed to rush out of my lungs all at once.
“Do you know how many times I was asked that? How many times I wanted to say it?” He moistened his lips and shook his head softly. “But I couldn't. I didn't want them to know before you did...before I had the courage to tell you myself.”
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“But when they asked me that time...I panicked. I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, not in front of them, not when I didn't even know what you felt. So I made up a list. One different enough that no one would suspect... but generic enough that no one would ask any more questions.”
The truth of his words fell on me like a sure blow. Everything I had taken for granted, everything I had interpreted as fact, crumbled in the face of the confession Jinyoung was regaling me with.
And worst of all... I believed it.
Because there he stood, with his heart fully exposed, with those eyes that had never been as honest as they were in that instant.
“You were never part of my list, because if I said it out loud...everyone would have known it was always you.”
After his confession, the loud sound of my heartbeat and his erratic breathing was all that could be heard at that moment.
“It was always you ever since I met you, ever since I saw you in the elevator. The one that made my heart beat so hard it made me dizzy, the one that made me want to get to work early because then I could start my day seeing you, that made me repeat lunch...” He paused a little before he could smile sincerely, looking at me once more. “The one that made me leave my car at home just so I could walk her to the stop and have a little more time to talk.”
Small tears slid down my cheeks, the way the sincerity of his words had managed to not only alter my heart, but had also broken down every barrier I had built around him.
Jinyoung raised his hand cautiously, watching my face with concern at the sudden tears that were beginning to well up.
“What, why are you crying, did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head softly, trying to hide my own sobs between giggles, feeling a weight lift off my back.
“No, Jinyoungie... It was perfect.”
There was no sign or anything specific, we just knew.
Jinyoung tilted his face slightly, and the instant our breaths intertwined, I knew there was no turning back.
Our lips met in a desired kiss that seemed like it would never happen, as if we were both tasting the sensation, making sure this wasn't a dream. But instantly, the need to be closer enveloped us like an unstoppable current.
The feel of his hands around my waist was firm, seeking not to separate me from him until he decided for himself. A shiver ran down my back as the sweet taste of his breath mingled with mine, and I found myself losing myself in the sensation, in the warmth, in the fact that after all, he had always been there.
Slowly we parted, letting our breaths mingle and our foreheads meet, resting after that whirlwind of feelings we had just unleashed.
Jinyoung smiled, that soft, shy smile that always managed to make me forget everything else.
“Ewww, get a room!”
BamBam's familiar voice made us all jump out of the way, as if we'd been caught doing something forbidden. I felt my cheeks burn as I turned my head and was met with the most embarrassing scene possible: BamBam laughing uproariously, Mark leaning against the car with a knowing half-smile, and Jaebeom with his arms crossed, nodding approvingly.
“How did they...?” I asked in the direction of Jinyoung, who looked even more embarrassed than they did as he cheered us on.
“It's about time, were they planning to keep up that tension until retirement?” Mark's striking voice was next to interrupt the silence, who was fist-bumping with Jaebeom. “You owe me 20,000, Bam.”
“God! Hyung, really, just now? You ruin the moment.”
Instinctively, we both burst into laughter, feeling the tension and embarrassment completely melt away after that moment. Our gazes met once more, and as if the whole world came down to this instant, we kissed again and again under the cover of night.
I always thought I would never be the kind of girl that men liked.
Maybe it was because of my indelicate way of saying things or my innate ability to blurt out the worst comments at the wrong time. Maybe it was also due to my height, which used to surprise many, or the bland color of my hair, which didn't stand out at all.
But that night, as I felt Jinyoung's arms around me gently, his warm breath brushing against my skin and his gaze fixed on me as if I was the only thing that existed, I understood that everything I once thought about myself was meaningless.
Because for him, I was enough.
To him, my outrageous laugh, my sharp sarcasm, and my total inability to keep quiet when something bothered me were not flaws, but part of what he loved about me.
And as his lips met mine again, I knew I didn't need to be anyone else's ideal guy.
summary: a little inspiration from lee youngji's “small girl”.
I've always known that I'm not the kind of girl Jinyoung would choose. I'm not delicate, I'm not reserved, I don't fit into his perfect world. Besides, he only sees me as his friend.
So I decided to stop trying, to let him go and live without expecting anything from him, and for the first time, to look in another direction without expecting that he will look back at me.
But why does it seem like every time I try to pull away, the more he tries to get closer?
warnings: I haven't written an au in a long time, so there might be some poor writing, beyond that a lot of mixed feelings, fluff, jinyoung!coworker, AAAAAAAA I loved writing this.
this story is a jinyoung x fem y/n, hope you like it.
words: 8,316 words. (ohmy)
a/n: it's been a while since I last wrote, but I was in a creative slump for a long time where I didn't like anything or had no motivation to write, but recently got7 made a comeback and I said 'why not?'
also, I've noticed that there isn't much got7 content on tumblr, so I hope you like this one, I really enjoyed writing it and finding myself again.
i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :(
thank u, TQM.
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“Baby, would you still love me?
Though I got a big laugh, big voice, and big personality
Would you guarantee?
‘Small Girl’, Lee Young Ji.
They say that love is not forced, that if you have to beg for someone's attention, then it's not worth it. But no one tells you what to do when your heart is stubborn, when it insists on beating harder for someone who barely notices you.
I knew it from the beginning.
Jinyoung would never look at me the way I looked at him.
Because I'm not his type.
I'm not the discreet, elegant girl he usually likes, and that's okay.
Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself while I change the name of his contact on my phone and promise myself, once again, that this time I'm going to get over it.
But of course, saying I'm going to get over him is easy. The problem is actually doing it.
Because even if I delete our pictures together, even if I promise myself that this is the last time I let it affect me, the next day I'm still in the same place. Sitting in the usual coffee shop, surrounded by the same people, with Jinyoung on the other side of the table, laughing at something one of our co-workers said.
And, by inertia, my eyes search for him.
Memorize him.
His laugh, the way his eyes close a little when he's really enjoying himself, how he runs a hand through his hair when he's concentrating.
Little habits that I shouldn't notice, that shouldn't matter, but are engraved in me.
I take a deep breath. No more.
I'm going to forget you.
I'm going to stop liking you.
Because yes, today will be different.
Today, for the first time, I won't wait for you to look back at me.
Today, I will finally stop liking Park Jinyoung.
That's a promise.
But to be honest, I don't know exactly when or how I started to like Jinyoung, I think one day happened and that's it, there was no turning back.
Although I do remember the first time we met.
I think it was April, or maybe May, or something like that, a month where flowers were beginning to appear on the trees along with the first signs of the return of the warm sun in Seoul.
It had been a busy few weeks, probably the busiest I'd had since coming to this place. Work had multiplied after my partner's maternity leave, so all her work was now mine as well and it was starting to pile up next to the work I had accumulated for weeks on my desk.
I remember that my blouse was bothering me and my pants were not warm enough for the cold office, which was hiding from the sun's rays. In desperation because of the cold, I decided to escape from my pile of earrings to get some sun on the terrace, knowing that I might get a scolding.
But at that moment, I didn't care; I wasn't going to let someone else catch a cold when spring was in full bloom.
As I waited for the elevator, intending to escape in it, the metal doors opened revealing my boss accompanied by someone else. I felt that karma was playing against me for my actions, but at that instant my mind was not for worries.
In fact, his attention was on the young man in front of me and how I had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, leaving the air trapped in my lungs. His black suit perfectly marked his figure, his glasses, always sliding down the bridge of his nose, gave him an added charm, and his lotion....
God, his lotion was almost as mesmerizing as his gaze.
“Miss Kim, how nice to find you around.”
My supervisor's voice snapped me out of the trance that was beginning to cloud my mind.
“I want to introduce you to Mr. Park, Park Jinyoung, he will be your new partner until Miss Yun returns from leave.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kim.”
I don't know how long I stared at Jinyoung, but it was probably my flushed face and the awkwardness of my response that caused him to laugh.
From that day on, we became inseparable.
In my eyes, he was the spitting image of a prince out of a fairy tale. From head to toe, he looked like the perfect man. But it wasn't just his looks that captivated me, it was the way he was that made me fall more in love with him every day.
I loved that every morning he would greet me and talk to me until our workday began. That, throughout the day, he would give me little treats to keep me energized. That he would accompany me to lunch, even if he had already finished his lunch break. That he would wait for me in the elevator so that we could go to the bus stop together and that, without saying so, he would let a few buses go by just so he could stay a little longer by my side.
But to be honest... was there anything I didn't like about Jinyoung?
Ah, yes.
There was something.
I didn't like that I wasn't his type.
One day, as I was on my way to deliver some papers to Marketing, I saw Jinyoung and a couple of friends sitting around having a coffee. My feet were hurrying towards them to greet them but my brain slowed them down, hearing the question Jaebeom had asked the brunette before they could see me coming.
“What about you Jinyoung, what kind of girls do you like?”
My heart began to beat fast, almost as if I had run a full marathon without stopping. Like a coward, I hid behind a pillar while I listened to their conversation.
Yes, it was disrespectful of me to listen to someone else's conversation, but I couldn't move. I didn't know if it was my body or my heart that had decided to leave me there, listening to the dialogue between them.
“Well, I don't have an exact type.”
I breathed again.
“Don't lie, I know you have one” A second voice spoke.
My eyes caught the silhouette of BamBam, who was playfully slapping his hyung.
“Don't be shy, Jinyoungie. Tell us, we are friends.”
It seemed that the pressure caused by the pair had made Jinyoung succumb to their question, who was starting to rub the back of his neck before answering them.
“Okay, okay... Well, I like girls shorter than me, I don't really have a preference in hair color but I think blondes look good, they look pretty. Maybe that they're discreet, elegant, that I feel like I can introduce her to my parents without fear that they might reject her, that they don't talk or laugh too much, I don't know! Right, that's enough.”
Shit.
My body froze.
Suddenly, I could feel the coffee I had drunk in the morning getting stuck in my throat, unable to move from my spot.
I stood there, my fingers clenching tightly around the papers I was supposed to deliver, as if to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.
Discreet. Elegant. Pleasing in the eyes of her parents.
Definitely, of all the things the man had named.
None of those things were me.
I let out a low sigh and closed my eyes for a second, forcing myself to compose myself. It wasn't like he expected to hear my description on his list, but I wasn't amused to feel so out of it either. Like the possibility didn't even exist.
Nothing on that silly list defined me. If anything really characterized me, it was my outrageous laugh, my sarcastic comments that left more than one person speechless, and my absolute inability to keep quiet when something bothered me. Not to mention, of course, my ridiculous height, which used to surprise anyone upon seeing me for the first time.
And elegant? Well... tripping over my own feet and spouting curses at the worst moment definitely didn't fall into that category.
I pursed my lips and glanced sideways again.
Jinyoung was smiling with the confidence of someone who thought he was pretty clear on what he wanted. But if he was so sure, why did he feel the need to justify himself so much?
I forced myself to let go of the papers in my hands and smooth them out with my fingers, playing with the edge of them. It was then that a small smile appeared on my lips.
“Of all the things you mentioned, Jinyoung, none of them fit me,” I thought, feeling a spark of amusement mixed with something else, something I didn't want to admit. “It's almost like I'm exactly the kind of girl that terrifies you.”
I bit my lip, fighting the temptation to laugh. But not a happy laugh, but the kind that sounded more like a resigned sigh.
“Oh, noona!”
A shiver ran through my body when I heard BamBam's voice calling me. As best I could, I recomposed the expression on my face and turned around, looking at the trio in front of me.
“Mhm? Oh, guys, what's wrong?”
“What are you doing here, is something wrong?”
Quick. Make something up.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to check with you guys to see if you knew if Seojun was at his desk, I was asked to deliver some papers to him before he went out to lunch.”
“I'm not sure, in fact I think he already went out, but we can-”
“You're bleeding.”
Jinyoung's voice brought me back to earth, feeling his hands wrap around mine and watching as blood gushed out and stained the papers.
“Let me tend to you, let's go get something to nurse-”
“Don't worry, Jinyoung. I'll go to the bathroom and then I'm going to redo these papers.”
“But it's almost time to eat and your finger...”
“Don't worry, I'll stop by today from lunch, I have to deliver this urgently, don't worry. Excuse me.”
As best I could, I bowed and slipped out of there.
That day was the beginning of something I didn't know how to stop.
After that, I started to distance myself. At first, it was just small, almost imperceptible details. I avoided spending too much time in the same spaces as him, I let conversations with the group flow without looking for his gaze, and I even forced myself not to react when he said something that would normally make me respond in search of some reaction from him. It wasn't difficult, at least at first. I kept telling myself that it was for the best, that there was no point in holding on to something that clearly had no place in his world.
But Jinyoung... he didn't make it easy.
Every time I thought I had found a balance, something about him would push me back. A genuine concern, a warmer-than-normal smile, the way he always seemed to notice when something was bothering me before others did. Details that shouldn't mean that much, but to my misfortune, they did.
And so, while I tried to pull away, he kept tugging at an invisible string that tied me to his orbit, even without realizing it.
Until one day I looked at my reflection and understood that my heart was not only frayed...but that every show of affection from him was making it break a little more.
“Noona, are you okay?”
BamBam's voice snapped me out of my trance. I blinked several times, snapping back to the present. We were in a coffee shop with the team, the murmur of conversations and the sound of cups clinking against plates filled the atmosphere. I hadn't even realized I had stopped listening.
“Huh? Yeah, yeah... I was just thinking about a few things.”
Jinyoung looked at me from across the table. It seemed that my disconnection to the atmosphere had caused him some strangeness, trying to tell me something through his gaze, something I couldn't quite make out.
I removed myself in my seat, uncomfortable.
“Wow, she looked so serious I thought she was planning world domination or something” Youngjae joked, making me let out a forced laugh.
I forced myself to pick up my glass and take a sip. I didn't want them to notice anything weird. I didn't want him to notice something was wrong.
But I knew it wouldn't be long before he did. Because Jinyoung always noticed those things.
And that was just the problem.
My phone vibrated in my bag, causing me to rummage through my things before I saw the screen.
Jinyoung: hey, u okay?
My eyes searched for him, catching him in the way he was watching me from across the table, almost crossing me. A subtle smile, almost impossible to discover whether it was a lie or not, came across my face, accompanying a soft nod of my head.
Me: yeah, don't worry! :)
I went back to watching him, trying to connect with the conversation the group was carrying so that I could look interested and laugh at whatever they were talking about, unconcerned with the man in the other corner.
It seemed to have been a success when he reconnected to the flow of the others.
When the coffee had cooled and everyone looked pretty interested in leaving, the conversation was over, and being honest I don't even remember 80% of what we had talked about that night. Gradually the goodbyes began to be heard, as well as the sound of cars leaving the place.
To my misfortune, not having a car tied me to public transportation, occupying an app or asking others if they could get me as close to home as possible.
“Are you leaving already?”
My heart gave a slight flip when I heard his voice, but my mind forcefully suppressed it. I turned to meet Jinyoung, who had stopped beside me with his hands in his pockets and that calm expression that always seemed so natural on him.
“Something like that,” I replied lightly, glancing at my cell phone screen again. “I'm seeing if an Uber or taking the bus is more feasible.”
“Don't worry, I'll get you closer to your hou-”
“Oppa!”
Our conversation was interrupted by a third party, causing all attention to focus on the newcomer.
Jia, Choi Jia.
Remember the list of things Jinyoung had said earlier about his ideal girl? Well, somehow, everything about her fit perfectly with the description the boy had given that day.
Short, elegant, discreet. Her long blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her sweet smile seemed designed to win over any strict mother. She was the kind of girl who didn't raise her voice any louder than necessary, who always knew how to behave at the right moment.
In other words, his ideal type.
And, of course, she knew it.
I barely turned around to see her approaching with a beaming smile, holding Jinyoung's arm with familiarity.
“Let's go together! Our house is in the same direction, remember?”
A knot formed in my stomach before I could help it.
Of course, how had I forgotten?
Jia and Jinyoung lived in the same area.
It was almost as if fate was playing all its cards so that our paths wouldn't come together in any way.
He blinked, confused, as if he had just remembered that detail. “Oh... right.”
“It's perfect,” she continued, not letting go of his arm. “That way you don't have to take a detour.”
Jinyoung hesitated for a second and his gaze rested on me, as if he was still considering his original offer.
But I saw it in his eyes... he wasn't going to say no to Jia.
And I had no intention of just standing there waiting for him to do so.
“It's okay, don't worry, Jinyoung,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “I'll take the bus, it's fine.”
“But-”
“Noona!”
Another voice interrupted me before Jinyoung could continue speaking. BamBam approached with the phone in his hand and an excited expression.
“Where are you going now, noona?”
“I'm going to catch the bus.”
“No noona! A friend is coming to pick me up and he can bring you closer to your house too, he's in the same direction where we're going. He has no problem with you joining us on our journey.”
I inwardly thanked him for his sudden intervention and nodded quickly. “Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience anyone.”
“Trust me, you won't.” He said with a mischievous grin. “Besides, it sure will do him good to meet more people.”
Just then, and almost falling from the sky, the lights of a black car illuminated part of the parking lot as it pulled up in front of us.
“There he is,” BamBam announced, raising his hand in greeting.
The driver's door opened, and out stepped a tall boy with somewhat tousled dark hair and a calm but attentive expression. His sharp features were accentuated by the dim street lighting, and the way he moved, with a natural, effortless confidence, made him instantly catch the eye.
BamBam smiled proudly before making introductions.
“Hyung, hey!”
Jinyoung, who was still beside me, straightened his shoulders slightly. Jia tilted her head curiously and I just stood static, watching the man arriving to join us.
“This is Mark.” The boy greeted everyone with a simple nod, trying to decipher our names. “Hyung, this is Jia, Jinyoung hyung and my noona, that's who we'll be taking today, our new traveling companion.”
“Bam's famous noona, it's a relief to finally give her a face.” A smile broke out on my face as he finished speaking, thanking the heavens that the subject had suddenly changed his direction.
“I hope he spoke only wonders about me.”
“Oh, of course he did. In fact, I don't think he was able to shut up after I asked him.”
Mark's laughter was catching in the air, causing me to laugh along with him as well. But despite that instant of grace, I could feel Jinyoung's steady gaze burn into my back.
“Don't talk about me like I'm not here! Hyung, noona!”
As if by magic, I felt again that there were people around us, forgetting the feelings that were wrapping around me a couple of minutes ago.
“If you're going to keep laughing at me like that, then we'd better leave, I don't want to be humiliated by you guys anymore!”
I shook my head in amusement as I watched him get into the car, turning my gaze back to Jinyoung and his new co-driver.
“It was nice meeting you guys, I hope we can meet more often.”
Mark's voice broke the silence, echoing softly in the air before he bowed goodbye and got into the car.
Just then, my eyes met Jinyoung's, and my heart raced without warning. I didn't understand why I felt this way so suddenly, but in his gaze there was something... something he was trying to tell me, just like in the cafeteria a couple of minutes ago.
“Well... Get home safely. See you Monday.”
I raised my hand in a farewell gesture before turning to get into the car. But, at that precise moment, a gentle tug on my clothes made me stop.
To my surprise, Jinyoung was holding me. His face reflected an urgency that unsettled me. His lips, as red as an apple, seemed to have been bitten just a few seconds ago. His eyes roamed my face with intensity, as if desperately searching for an answer in it, as if what he wanted to tell me was trapped between us.
With a thread of a voice, I barely managed to ask, “What's wrong, Pepi?”
He opened his mouth, his tongue was pressing against the inside of his cheek, as if the words were on the tip, ready to come out. But they didn't. His grip on my clothes became firmer, as if he was trying to keep me from leaving without hearing what he had to tell me.
But in the end... nothing.
I felt his grip loosen until his hand fell to his side.
“It's nothing, sorry.”
My chest tightened with inexplicable frustration.
“Oh... it's okay.”
A wave of disappointment washed over me from head to toe. I wanted him to speak, to let out those words I was holding back. That he would give me a reason to stay a few seconds longer. But he didn't.
So I just sighed and mumbled a goodbye, before finally getting into the car.
The goodbye had been brief, but the weight of what was left unsaid hung in the air.
The car started up, gliding nimbly between the streets. From the back seat, I watched the city lights fleetingly flash past the window, as Mark and BamBam's voice mingled in distant conversation.
“Noona, how far are we from your house?”
BamBam's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times before leaning in slightly to look at him.
“Ah... Not much, about ten more minutes.”
I tried to sound natural, but my mind was still trapped in the instant I had shared with Jinyoung. Or rather, in what we did not share. Something inside me told me that he had wanted to talk, that he had been on the verge of doing so, but something stopped him.
Was it fear, was it doubt, or was he just not as important as I thought he was?
Mark seemed focused on the road, his face serene, but BamBam was watching me with a curious glint in his eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a lopsided smile, as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I forced a smile.
“Yeah, I'm just tired.”
BamBam let out a slight sigh and shrugged. “If you say so, noona.”
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the murmur of the radio and the occasional conversation between the two of them. For my part, I watched the lights of the city go by, turning the matter over again and wondering what would have happened if Jinyoung had spoken.
Soon after, I could see the cluster of buildings where my home was. The car came to a complete stop and that's when I just opened the door to get out of the car.
“Thank you so much for approaching me, Mark.”
“No problem, besides you were just passing by.”
“Good night, guys. Thanks again.”
Setting my feet on solid ground, I waved goodbye to them one more time before turning around. However, like déjà vu, something once again got in my way, preventing me from moving forward.
“Noona.”
My stride stopped and I turned to look at him.
“If you want to talk about whatever happened back there...you know where to find me.”
His words were playful, but there was something genuine in his tone. I was silent for a moment before smiling sincerely.
“I know, thank you, Bam.”
The next thing I heard was the car start up and drive off into the darkness of the night, as I headed for my apartment.
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I let out a long, tired sigh. I leaned against the wood and closed my eyes, letting all the oxygen in my body go out of my mouth.
It seemed like all my attempts to get away from Jinyoung wanted to be put on pause, almost as if fate finally wanted to give me some of what I prayed so hard for before I went to sleep.
But I couldn't give in to the slightest bit of attention he was giving me, I had to be strong enough to be able to overcome these feelings that were blossoming more and more in me.
I had promised.
I had promised myself.
Be that as it may.
I'm going to stop liking you, Jinyoung.
Despite all my attempts to forget what happened on Friday and turn the page, I had spent the whole weekend with my mind trapped in that moment with Jinyoung.
I relived the scene over and over again, searching in his gaze, in his body language, in every little gesture, for some clue as to what he really wanted to tell me.
But after so much thought, I came to the conclusion that if he didn't say it, maybe it wasn't as important as I thought.
Maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Maybe, at the last second, he realized that what he wanted to tell me wasn't worth it. Or worse, maybe there was never anything to say.
So I decided to dismiss it. There was no point in going on and on about it and gnawing at my head.
By the time Monday came around, I had buried the issue in the back of my mind, focusing on what really mattered: work.
It is clear that Mondays are always the worst day of the week, but it seemed that today was set to be the worst of all. Apparently all the meetings had been scheduled for that day.
I had barely seen the shadow of Jinyoung's silhouette all day, he had been going up and down the elevator loaded with papers, at the same time that I was moving from one room to another to have all the meetings that could exist in the world.
We didn't cross a single word all day.
There were no morning greetings, no pauses for conversation, no little sweets left on my desk.
And though I repeated to myself that I needn't have minded, a part of me couldn't help but notice.
Between all the work and the small but possible breaks there were to rest, it suddenly got dark and again I was at the entrance of the building, seeing if it was more economical to order an Uber or walk to wait for the bus.
“Are you waiting for the prices to go down?”
Jinyoung's voice interrupted my internal debate, lifting my gaze from the screen and observing the brown-haired man. I couldn't help but scan him, he was wearing a casual outfit but one that didn't lose that hint of elegance he always used to have, he looked perfect.
“Something like that, but I don't think it's going to happen.” I shrugged my shoulders before I could stow the phone in my bag, watching him once again.
“Let's go together.”
His sudden proposal caught me off guard, feeling the pounding of my heart echoing in my chest. A soft blush settled on my cheeks, noticing how Jinyoung gave me one of those smiles that generated butterflies in my stomach.
But before I could say anything, a familiar voice interrupted that scene.
“Ah, noona!”
An elated BamBam appeared in front of us, who looked like he had run so he could meet us.
“We were looking for you.”
“We?”
As soon as that question escaped my mouth, Mark appeared at the side of the young man, who gave him a small pat on the back before looking at me.
“We're going in the same direction as last time. If you want, we can take you again.”
My gaze shifted from BamBam to Mark, and then to Jinyoung.
For the first time that day, he seemed at a loss for words.
His expression tensed for a brief moment before he regained his neutral gesture, as if the interruption didn't affect him in the least.
“Oh guys, excuse me but-”
“You guys go ahead. I'll take the bus. Actually, I have to go somewhere else, I'm meeting someone.”
The echo of Jinyoung's voice made me turn around, noticing how suddenly his expression had changed just like his previous proposition, once again.
His tone was calm, almost indifferent.
But something about the way he averted his gaze and how quickly he ended the conversation made me feel a small twinge in my chest.
Before I could say anything, he had already turned and was walking away down the street with his hands in his pockets.
Mark and BamBam were silent for a few seconds, exchanging quick glances with each other before looking back at me.
They knew something had happened, but neither asked.
“Shall we go, noona?” said BamBam finally, in his usually nonchalant tone, as if he hadn't just noticed how strange the whole exchange had been.
My gaze didn't leave Jinyoung's backpack until it disappeared around the corner, feeling again like there was something he had wanted to say but ended up vanishing into thin air.
“Yeah, let's go.”
The rest of the week went along pretty much the same way.
Whenever it seemed that Jinyoung was going to approach me to tell me something, BamBam and Mark would appear out of nowhere with their usual:
Noona, come on, we'll give you a ride.
At first, I didn't think anything of it.
It was a nice gesture on their part and actually saved me from taking public transportation.
But after the third, the fourth, the fifth time... I started to notice it.
And I wasn't the only one.
Every time it happened, Jinyoung would clench his jaw for barely a second before immediately relaxing, as if reminding himself not to react.
Every time BamBam would appear with his carefree smile, I would watch out of the corner of my eye as Jinyoung would avert his gaze, pretending that it didn't bother him at all.
Whenever Mark would make a simple nod of his head to signal me to leave, Jinyoung would clench his fists slightly, as if he was holding something back.
But he never said anything.
He never complained.
He never tried to avoid it.
And yet, that restrained annoyance was becoming more and more apparent.
Mark and BamBam began to notice it too.
Their gazes became more curious every time Jinyoung and I crossed paths.
More analytical when Jinyoung feigned indifference.
More amused when it seemed that, for a second, he was about to say something... only to stop and carry on as if nothing had happened.
And I, for one, began to wonder how much longer he could keep holding back before he finally snapped.
Finally it was Friday, and as had become customary, I waited at the entrance for my trusted drivers, they didn't usually take much longer than 10 minutes to show up.
As I waited, I could tell that I was no longer alone, but that there was a second presence beside me.
“Shall I keep you company?”
My face turned the instant I saw Jinyoung next to me, noticing how he was arranging his glasses on the bridge of his nose. A smile broke out on my face, nodding softly at his offer.
“Will you go with them again?”
I nodded once more, watching his face turn that relaxation into tension as he confirmed what it seemed he didn't want to hear.
“It's a nice gesture on them to approach me, plus I save some money that way.”
Jinyoung let out a small laugh, but it didn't sound genuine. Rather, it sounded like he was trying to downplay something he didn't particularly enjoy.
“Yeah, right... a nice gesture.”
He didn't say anything else, just looked down and gently kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe.
A small silence formed between us.
It wasn't awkward, but there was something about his posture, the way his jaw tensed and his hands remained inside his coat pockets, that made me think he was holding back from saying something else.
But before I could break the silence that had formed, the vibration of my phone interrupted us.
Bam: Noona, sorry but we're going to be a little late.
My brow furrowed, trying to figure out what was going on with the little context that message had delivered.
A second notification came through.
Bam: Mark is stuck in traffic and I'm having a tummy crisis.
Bam: I didn't have to eat that much kimchi for lunch.
Bam: Go ahead noona, don't wait for us.
I quickly answered that message to stop worrying them and put the cell phone back in its place, letting out a soft sigh.
“Looks like my attempt to save ends today.”
“And that?”
I turned and looked at the man, who was looking at me as he arranged his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Mark and Bam won't be able to take me today” I let out a small chuckle before noticing Jinyoung's face relax. “I'll start walking or I'll miss the bus.”
My feet stomped to the stop, but it seemed the echo of my footsteps weren't the only thing I heard.
“I can give you a ride if you like!”
My footsteps paused for a moment. I wasn't sure if I had heard correctly or if my mind was playing a joke on me. I turned to him with a slight nod.
“Huh?”
Jinyoung cleared his throat, as if he himself was surprised by his own offer. He settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose and repeated more firmly.
“That I can give you a ride if you like.”
“Since when do you have a car?” A smile tugged at my lips, noticing how the man moved closer.
“Since Jackson stopped borrowing mine and decided to buy one.”
“He finally has his own car, good for him” We both shared a laugh, feeling how we were back to feeling as comfortable as before. “I was already pretty sure he was going to end up buying your car from you.”
“Thank heavens no, so I can now offer you a ride.”
Again that look.
That look that wanted to say everything but at the same time his mouth said nothing, with that gleam that illuminated his pretty eyes, and how not to forget those pink lips-.
Stop it, stop thinking about it.
My head shook, pushing away those thoughts that, once again, invaded my head again. I relaminated my lips before regaining my composure, watching Jinyoung, who seemed quite interested in my sudden action.
“So, shall we go?”
I hesitated for a second.
Would this really do me any good?
There was no answer to that but if I wanted to get over it, this was the way to do it, putting myself to the test one last time.
“Yeah, come on.”
We both shared a smile before we could walk to the car.
The drive began with a quietness that didn't feel uncomfortable. Jinyoung drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the window, while I absentmindedly looked out of mine, feeling the warmth of the sunset tint the city in orange hues.
“If you want, you can play music,” he said suddenly, without taking his eyes off the road.
“Are you sure you trust my playlist?” I joked, grabbing his phone that already had the music app open.
“If it's still this chaotic, probably not.”
I let out a laugh as I started to slide through his playlists.
“Do you actually still have this playlist?” I asked, surprised to see one in particular.
“Which one?”
“The one we made together when we first started working together, with the most ridiculous songs we could find.”
Jinyoung laughed low, shaking his head.
“I didn't have the heart to erase it.”
“Oh, come on, Jinyoung. Tell the truth,” I lightly nudged his arm ‘you love listening to ABBA when you're alone in the car.’
“If you keep that comment up, I'll drop you off at the next corner.”
We both broke into laughter, feeling that distance that had appeared between us over the past few days begin to fade.
It felt right.
It felt... natural.
As the music played softly in the background, we continued to chat, picking up old jokes and creating new ones in the process, almost feeling like the distance that had been generated had brought us closer, where we were once again the same people who would scold each other for not stopping talking after a meeting.
At some point in the conversation, our best memories began to surface, feeling my stomach ache with every laugh we let out.
“It wasn't my fault!” Jinyoung protested with laughter.
“What do you mean it wasn't your fault! You left me stuck in the meeting room because you 'thought I was already gone'!”
“I did it under pressure.”
“Pressure from what?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Pressure from wanting to leave quickly before I got caught in another meeting.”
I let out another laugh, gently punching his arm. I could see how the traffic light had changed to red, giving us a break from the laughter we had been sharing since we got in the car.
Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair, blurting out a sentence that chilled me to the bone.
“I missed this, I missed you.”
The sound of cars passing around us seemed to fade for a moment. My breath caught in my chest as my mind processed his words.
I missed this, I missed you.
It was not an elaborate confession, not a speech full of carefully chosen words. It was simple, sincere and, above all, unexpected.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, watching his fingers drum softly on the steering wheel, a nervous gesture I rarely saw from him. His eyes were fixed on the red light of the traffic light, but the tension in his jaw gave away that he was waiting for an answer.
No, he was begging for an answer.
I couldn't lie to my own feelings, so I was honest with him.
“Me too” I whispered, almost without realizing it.
Jinyoung turned his face slowly toward me, as if he wasn't sure he had heard right. My gaze met his, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the need to look away.
The traffic light changed to green, but neither of us reacted immediately. A car horn behind us broke the moment, bringing us back to reality.
Jinyoung cleared his throat slightly before tightening his grip on the steering wheel and continuing to drive.
The silence between us was no longer awkward, but charged with something else. Something that hovered in the air, making me feel more aware of his presence, of the accelerated heartbeat in my chest, of how my skin bristled every time our arms accidentally brushed.
The rest of the trip was calmer, sharing different opinions of events that had happened in the office, almost as if we were both trying to avoid the recent confession we had had.
Sooner or later we had arrived at the apartment complex. My eyes averted their gaze from the large buildings to Jinyoung, who was watching me uneasily.
“Thanks for the ride, Pepi.” A new smile broke out on my face, fixing me as he shared his with me as well.
“No problem, it's no trouble.”
“Be careful coming back, okay?”
Before I could leave, I felt my hands itch, almost needing to do something else. Hesitant to do so, I simply let my instinct decide for me.
I leaned in slightly and deposited a kiss on his cheek, barely a brush, but just enough to feel the warmth of his skin against my lips.
Jinyoung seemed to freeze, as if trying to process what had just happened. I didn't wait to see his reaction. I turned quickly and got out of the car, feeling my heart hammering in my chest.
As soon as the cool night air enveloped me, I realized something.
I wasn't going to move forward like this.
If I kept hiding behind small, contained displays of affection, half-hearted moments and unspoken words, I would never get out of this emotional tangle.
“Agh, what a fool.” I muttered to myself, keeping my pace steady down that path.
I took a breath of air, clenching my fists. I couldn't go on at this in-between point. I was determined.
As I was about to take the first step away from there, ready to stop fantasizing about something that was never going to happen, his voice reached me.
“Wait! Y/N!”
Jinyoung didn't shout often, and the fact that he did so now took me by surprise. I turned instinctively, and before I could react, he was already in front of me, breathing in agitation from catching up to me so quickly.
“Jinyoung... What are you doing, why are you here?”
“Are you still going with them?”
His question surprised me a little.
Had he run that far to ask me that?
“What? What do you mean?”
“If Mark and Bambam keep telling you to go with them, will you?”
I stared at him, sensing that his question had a second meaning. I didn't mean it because of the way he said it or the context, but because, for the first time, his eyes were watching me and telling me what they had hidden so much, what caused that special gleam in them.
“I-I, uhm, I don't know, I think-”
“You don't have to go with them. Let's go together.”
His voice sounded firm, but there was something else in his tone: a silent plea, a truth that had been holding back too long.
I stood still, feeling my chest shrink with unexpected warmth. My mouth felt dry and all the words I had thought of at that moment had vanished, feeling lost in the intense gaze Jinyoung held.
“I don't want to keep watching you walk away” He whispered, with the intensity of one who has held on to something too long. “I don't want to keep walking behind you, waiting for you to turn around. I want you to stay. With me.”
The world seemed to stop.
I don't know if it was the way he said it, with that perfect mix of sweetness and conviction, or the way his gaze held me so securely, but I felt my heart stop for a second only to then beat harder.
Jinyoung didn't speak without thinking. And if he said something like that... it was because he really meant it.
“What are you talking about, Jinyoung? W-what? What about Jia?”
As soon as I mentioned the girl's name, it seemed that suddenly his face turned into confusion.
“What does she have to do with it?”
“Please Pepi, it's obvious. She's...”
I struggled to keep my gaze on his, feeling I wasn't strong enough to tell him, to admit what was obvious.
“She's everything you want. From head to toe she's your ideal girl, Jinyoung.”
He took a step forward, eliminating any space between us. My breath hitched as he brought his hand to my face, with the softness of someone who feared he might vanish at any moment. Our gazes reconnected almost instantly, leaving my heart rate to rise again.
“It's not, of course not.”
“Please don't deny it to make me feel better, I heard you.”
My teeth caught my bottom lip, holding back the urge to cry that was starting to grow in my body as I remembered that instant.
“I heard you that time, when Jaebeom asked you what your ideal type of girl was. You described her perfectly, out of your whole list of things, Jia was the spitting image.”
A laugh escaped the boy's lips, feeling that what he had just heard was the funniest thing anyone could have said to him.
“No, it's not true.”
Before I could respond anything, feeling offended at the uncharacteristic way he had called me a liar, he continued speaking.
“She was never my type.”
Jinyoung brought one of his hands to the back of his neck, ruffling his hair a little, as if gathering all the courage he had to finally let out everything he was holding back.
“I made up that list” He finally admitted, his voice laden with a mixture of frustration and something deeper. “Not because Jia was my type... but because if I said what I really liked, Jaebeom and BamBam would have noticed instantly.”
My eyes widened even more, hearing the loud gallop of my heart in my ears. My lips parted in shock.
“Realized? Realized what?”
His eyes bore into mine, serious and vulnerable at the same time.
“That the only person who fit my true description perfectly...was you.”
The air seemed to rush out of my lungs all at once.
“Do you know how many times I was asked that? How many times I wanted to say it?” He moistened his lips and shook his head softly. “But I couldn't. I didn't want them to know before you did...before I had the courage to tell you myself.”
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“But when they asked me that time...I panicked. I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, not in front of them, not when I didn't even know what you felt. So I made up a list. One different enough that no one would suspect... but generic enough that no one would ask any more questions.”
The truth of his words fell on me like a sure blow. Everything I had taken for granted, everything I had interpreted as fact, crumbled in the face of the confession Jinyoung was regaling me with.
And worst of all... I believed it.
Because there he stood, with his heart fully exposed, with those eyes that had never been as honest as they were in that instant.
“You were never part of my list, because if I said it out loud...everyone would have known it was always you.”
After his confession, the loud sound of my heartbeat and his erratic breathing was all that could be heard at that moment.
“It was always you ever since I met you, ever since I saw you in the elevator. The one that made my heart beat so hard it made me dizzy, the one that made me want to get to work early because then I could start my day seeing you, that made me repeat lunch...” He paused a little before he could smile sincerely, looking at me once more. “The one that made me leave my car at home just so I could walk her to the stop and have a little more time to talk.”
Small tears slid down my cheeks, the way the sincerity of his words had managed to not only alter my heart, but had also broken down every barrier I had built around him.
Jinyoung raised his hand cautiously, watching my face with concern at the sudden tears that were beginning to well up.
“What, why are you crying, did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head softly, trying to hide my own sobs between giggles, feeling a weight lift off my back.
“No, Jinyoungie... It was perfect.”
There was no sign or anything specific, we just knew.
Jinyoung tilted his face slightly, and the instant our breaths intertwined, I knew there was no turning back.
Our lips met in a desired kiss that seemed like it would never happen, as if we were both tasting the sensation, making sure this wasn't a dream. But instantly, the need to be closer enveloped us like an unstoppable current.
The feel of his hands around my waist was firm, seeking not to separate me from him until he decided for himself. A shiver ran down my back as the sweet taste of his breath mingled with mine, and I found myself losing myself in the sensation, in the warmth, in the fact that after all, he had always been there.
Slowly we parted, letting our breaths mingle and our foreheads meet, resting after that whirlwind of feelings we had just unleashed.
Jinyoung smiled, that soft, shy smile that always managed to make me forget everything else.
“Ewww, get a room!”
BamBam's familiar voice made us all jump out of the way, as if we'd been caught doing something forbidden. I felt my cheeks burn as I turned my head and was met with the most embarrassing scene possible: BamBam laughing uproariously, Mark leaning against the car with a knowing half-smile, and Jaebeom with his arms crossed, nodding approvingly.
“How did they...?” I asked in the direction of Jinyoung, who looked even more embarrassed than they did as he cheered us on.
“It's about time, were they planning to keep up that tension until retirement?” Mark's striking voice was next to interrupt the silence, who was fist-bumping with Jaebeom. “You owe me 20,000, Bam.”
“God! Hyung, really, just now? You ruin the moment.”
Instinctively, we both burst into laughter, feeling the tension and embarrassment completely melt away after that moment. Our gazes met once more, and as if the whole world came down to this instant, we kissed again and again under the cover of night.
I always thought I would never be the kind of girl that men liked.
Maybe it was because of my indelicate way of saying things or my innate ability to blurt out the worst comments at the wrong time. Maybe it was also due to my height, which used to surprise many, or the bland color of my hair, which didn't stand out at all.
But that night, as I felt Jinyoung's arms around me gently, his warm breath brushing against my skin and his gaze fixed on me as if I was the only thing that existed, I understood that everything I once thought about myself was meaningless.
Because for him, I was enough.
To him, my outrageous laugh, my sharp sarcasm, and my total inability to keep quiet when something bothered me were not flaws, but part of what he loved about me.
And as his lips met mine again, I knew I didn't need to be anyone else's ideal guy.
who's your daddy? (s.r)
summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?
the green dress effect (s.r)
summary: skirts were never to your liking and didn't work for you, until penelope convinces you to try one, and wow, do they work.
damn, he's so cute (s.r)
summary: Spencer returns home and the last thing he expects to hear is that his partner is fangirling about someone else besides him.
⭑ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 ⭑ (one shot's)
favorite student (s.r)
summary: after the arrival of a new semester, y/n decides to attend Professor Reid's classes and get to know him better.
☽ series ☾
boy wonder and the rockstar (s.r)
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ?
summary: Spencer and Y/N meet in college after a book search, creating a friendship where opposites attract. But Spencer has to move across the country to pursue his happiness and completely loses contact with Y/N.
What if fate decides it's time to meet after 15 years and with a crazy stalker in between?
Spencer won't lose to fate again and will do anything in his power to protect Y/N.
law in pink (s.r)
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - ?
summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.
acting with your ex-boyfriend seems easy enough (or that’s what you want to think) but what happens when your returning off screen feelings translate a little too well on screen?
acting with your ex-boyfriend seems easy enough (or that’s what you want to think) but what happens when your returning off screen feelings translate a little too well on screen?
NEW MASTERLIST
status: DISCONTINUED (rewrite coming soon)
pairing: actor!jinyoung x actress!reader
genre: exes to lovers au, fluff, angst, humour
warnings: none
a/n: my first got7 smau!! i’m so excited to start posting i hope you enjoy reading it!
Feel free to recommend me some more fics! If there is any author that doesn’t want their work on here pls let me know and I’ll remove it. Series are at the bottom. Be warned for spoilers. I will not be adding spoiler warnings so tread lightly. please lmk if links arent working
back to <;- spencer reid . i
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Amidst the Chaos by @a-simple-gaywitch
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts | tw/warnings: mentions of abduction.
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Adored By Him . ii by @beautiful-bau-beau
genre: angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer dating someone and you being sad because you had a crush on him but not saying anything because you don’t want to ruin his happiness.
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All I know by @unseededtoast
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: Five years after leaving Spencer Reid, it seems that fate might have given you a second chance. Inspired by "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift/Ed Sheeran
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Already Gone . ii by @fandom-imagines-stories
genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: With a relationship interfering with your dangerous job, you force yourself to break things off with your boyfriend. Reid tries to maintain a professional relationship, but can’t deny his heart break. Inspired by Already Gone, a cover by Sleeping at Last.
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Addicted to a losing game. . ii by @sinfulspencer
genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Rossi is getting married, the whole team is present. Y/N doesn’t have a date but Spencer does. And it’s not her.
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a father's daughter by @/pathologicalreid
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader, hotch reader, established relationship | summary: in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life
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brilliance by @pathologicalreid
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: in which reader goes into labor after a fight and spencer is nowhere to be found
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Books and Notes by @galaxy-siren
genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: During movie night with Derek and Garcia, Spencer’s neighbor returns a book she borrowed and leaves a note inside it asking Spencer to dinner.
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coffee by @ddejavvu
genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: it's his first day at the BAU and the reader is so taken by him, she has constant puppy eyes and he mentions about needing a coffee and the reader simply gives him her coffee cup and then morgan and emily are like 'you're whipped'
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cake by @reidjumpers
genre: fluff, gn reader, pregnant reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: accidentally announcing your pregnancy to the team all because of a slice of cake
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Can’t Be Your Secret Anymore by @shemarmooresfedora
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, nurse reader, established relationship | summary: You hardly expected the next time you saw Spencer after your big fight is him coming out of an ambulance on a stretcher.
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cookies & casserole by @/ddejavvu
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: The team visiting Spencer for one reason or another on their day off & reader opens the door (maybe even wearing one of Spence's shirts) and that's how they all find out Spencer is in a relationship?
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day-off by @railingsofsorrow
genre: fluff, fem reader, dad spence | summary: dad!spencer spends his day off with his daughter.
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deprivation by @reiding-writing
genre: angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.
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distance by @/reiding-writing
genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader, post prison spence established relationship | summary: Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions
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Daisies Mean 'I'm an Idiot' by @/shemarmooresfedora
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer unintentionally declines when Y/N asks him out because he couldn’t possibly be the man she was describing to Penelope in her office.
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do you like how i look? or just how i look on you? by @bau-drabbles
genre: angst, gn reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: I was wondering if you do like a concept where reader and Spencer have relationship problems because he's in love with JJ?
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falling asleep by @in-another-april
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: It’s rare for Spencer to fall asleep before you, but it’s a very welcome sight
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For Your Eyes Only by @ro-is-struggling
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, garcia! reader | summary: The three times you and Spencer managed to keep your relationship a secret and the one time you got caught.
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Here for you by @weird-is-life
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: 4 times you take care of Spencer and one time he takes care of you | tw: blood, injury, abductions, mentions of car accident
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home grown by @nostalgicmess
genre: fluff, fem reader, gardener reader, established relationship | summary: JJ’s trip to the farmer’s market results in a discovery about Spencer.
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hibernation envy by @honeydjarin
genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: It’s okay to seek out warm hands and a tender heart, especially when it’s this cold.
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How Penelope Garcia Saved Christmas by @reidscanehand
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader, christmas fic | summary: 12 days of christmas cookies with the team and how Penelope fixes reid and readers relationship
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I'm not her by @hercleverboy
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: the reader is tired of being compared to maeve.
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I'm fine (not really) by @/luveline
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, shy reader | summary: reader cannot function when spencer is around
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I Don't Mind If It's You by @/eideticallys
genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.
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I Would Never Fall . ii by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: an undercover mission reveals a lot more than expected
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I love you (and I don't want to) by @/babymetaldoll
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: After three years in love with Spencer, (Y/N) decides it's time to move on. He will never love her anyway, right?
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my wonder by @downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you? This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer, and one time he says it back in the same fashion.
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Meeting the Team by @/galaxy-siren
genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: Spencer has been keeping his girlfriend a secret from the team. What happens when they finally meet her.
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migraine massage by @/reiding-writing
genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.
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nicknames by @pathologicalreid
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname
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no expectations by @andiebeaword
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader is in love with Reid. He’s fallen for a woman named Maeve. While trying to save her, Reader makes a choice. | notes: full fic is on ao3
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notice me . ii by @fandom-imagines-stories
genre: angst, fem reader, established relationship | summary: A killer leaves Reid’s girlfriend on the steps of the BAU with a message for Hotchner and the team. Spencer’s judgement is clouded and it seems that the killer isn’t finished with you.
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no sign of danger by @/pathologicalreid
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: Spence becomes protective of you after swat makes a mistake causing injury.
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passive aggressive by @/ddejavvu
genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: spencer’s stressed, and he takes it out on you. you’re sure it would have hurt far worse if he’d shouted, but instead he broke you down bit by bit, his cold demeanor leaving you crying in your car.
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"Ready?" by @reidyoulikeabook
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The team finds out about yours and Spencer’s relationship.
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rejection by @/kryptonitejelly
genre: angst, slight fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: say reader has been pining and yearning over aaron for so long and decided to tell him about reader's true feelings but reader didn't know that aaron is currently seeing someone :") he's all sorry and apologetic towards the reader :( after the 'rejection', reader ask for transfer request to another department bc as much as the reader try to not get affected, it still.....
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Rather Ardently by @/reidscanehand
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: reader where she and Spencer are married and then he starts having his headaches so he seeks out help from Maeve. She doesn’t die or anything but they become friends and reader starts to feel insecure about herself because of how much Maeve and Spencer has in common and then Spencer realises but her reassures that he loves her?
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Reaching for the Moon . ii by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, interpol reader, college friends | summary: based loosely on Sabrina or an old friend of reids comes back into his life and he's hoping this time he can be the one who gets called hers.
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spending the night by @mandarinmoons
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: just a cute fic about waking up to spencer after spending the night
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secretly mine by @actually-safer-to-kiss
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge
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sense memory by @/pathologicalreid
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, hotchner reader, established relationship | summary: After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.
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Serenade her, bro! by @babymetaldoll
genre: crack fic, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have their first fight after a rough case. To help him ease his mind, Derek and Rossi take Reid out for a few drinks. But things get a little… out of hand.
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Secret Life, Secret Wife by @reidslibrarybook
genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Throughout his years at the BAU, the team starts to notice Spencer’s unusual behavior. It’s almost as if he’s hiding something… or someone.
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stuck between a rock and a hard place . ii by @/pathologicalreid
genre: angst, fem reader, fbi reader, established relationship | summary: You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.
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taken care of by @golden1u5t
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: could we get spencer and a fem reader where she has to take care of him after he got shot in the leg and she basically has to help him adjust to using crutches and helping him to bathe and wash his hair and stuff, especially when it’s getting longer he finds it so much more difficult
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The Very Essence of Love by @/reidscanehand
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Maybe he dislikes her because he can’t truly dislike her, ever.
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Thank you for loving me by @ralvezfanatic
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: Spencer comes home after a long and stressful case, and doesn't want anything but to be with Reader. Of course, Reader is more than happy to take care of their boyfriend.
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The Secret Socks by @kcthrine
genre: fluff, fem reader, husband spence, bau reader | summary: Reader wakes up in the middle of the night to her husband, Spencer Reid, putting socks on her cold feet.
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The Moment I Knew . ii by @reidspharb
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: Spencer misses your 25th birthday and that’s when you realize your relationship can’t be fixed.
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Thirty-Six Months . ii by @moonice20408
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: You and Spencer click right away when you join the BAU and a relationship soon follows. But nothing lasts forever…
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Twenty Thousand Words Per Minute . ii by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, nanny reader | summary: I was thinking, what if reid had a son who was dyslexic? Reid has an incredibly fast reading speed and has an eidetic memory, i just think he would try his hardest to understand his son.
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the funny little things. by @messyyythoughts
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: your relationship with Dr Reid of the BAU is a good one, so good that there’s these little funny things that you both do with one another...
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the comfort of rain by @/hercleverboy
genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: spencer reid is her soulmate, isn’t he?
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The One Where Everyone Finds Out by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him…only they don’t know it yet…and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.
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unrequited by @hercleverboy
genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: the reader is in love with spencer. he’s not in love her.
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undercover by @spencerreidsmiles
genre: angst, fem reader | summary: spencer reid is your assignment.
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undercover by @in-my-shifting-era
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: When an unsub is hunting for young couples at a bar; reader and Spencer are asked to go under cover posing as a couple to catch him.
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ungentlemanly by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: who knew when reid gets drunk he gets flirty
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unexpected sleepover by @luveline
genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, single dad spence | summary: spencer and his daughter amanda find their reunion unexpectedly interrupted when you need a place to stay the night.
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Unexpected Visitor by @sweatervest-obsessed
genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: There are some things that the team does not know about, like you, for example.
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WooPea! by @eideticallys
genre: fluff, gn reader bau reader | summary: you start your day right, cracking science jokes & making spencer reid smile. the other bau team members be damned! or, you crack the worst jokes in the planet & emily has had enough of it.
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We're Okay by @forhappysake
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.
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Who's your daddy? by @justawritterwithideas
genre: fluff, fem oc, dad spencer | summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?
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Who Needs Time Management When I Have You? by @/eideticallys
genre: fluff fem reader, bar reader, established relationship | summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.
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You're on your own by @rynwritesreid
genre: angst, slight fluff, fem reader, bau reader| summary: After releasing Spencer will never love you back, you take some time of work to work on your mental health. However, an unsub the team have been working to find, finds you first.
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✦ Don't Let Me Go . ii . iii by @spencexreidimagine
genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: Can you write an imagine where Spencer and the reader get in a fight before a case and the whole time Spencer is being passive aggressive with her until she ends up seriously hurt and he thinks she’s going to die before they got to make up?
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✧ im always just a door away . ii . iii by @juqtier
genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, fem reader | summary: when you moved in to your new apartment, you never imagined your neighbor, spencer reid, would be such a nightmare. he wasn’t your favorite guy. in fact, you hated him. unfortunately for you, you can never seem to escape him. the universe clearly has other plans for you two.
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✦ I'm Starvin', Darlin' . ii . iii by @bitesizedgremlin
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer realizes how touch starved he is when you, the newest member of the BAU, develop a habit of casually touching him throughout the day. | notes/warnings: the last part has smut
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✦ "This is killing me" by @bisexualwannabewriter
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: You’re working for the BAU, and Dr Spencer Reid is your best friend on the team. Actually, he’s your best friend, pErIoD. The thing is, you’re not supposed to feel that way about your best friend. He makes you feel some type of way, everyone in the team can see it, except you and him.
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✧ The In-Betweens by @fandom-imagines-stories
genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, hotch reader | summary: When the team figures out Reid has a secret girlfriend, they try to get all of the details. Things take an interesting turn as Spencer and the reader draw closer. (Each chapter has its own summary)
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✦ The Statistical Probability by @/reidscanehand
genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer Reid is doubtful of the statistical probability of falling in love until he meets the BAU’s new communications liaison, Y/N. Thus begins a relationship and a story of healing, growing, and finally finding the statistical probability of finding a happy ending. | notes: the third chapter includes smut
Hi everyone!! I’m finally back from university, I'm soooo happy to be back and will be uploading some new Law In Pink chapters and new ideas soon, thanks so much for waiting. <3
summary. after you and tom called it quits, the internet can’t help but make you their punching bag, all because you liked a boy.
installment of this au | recommend you read it for more context!
CELEBRITYNEWS Months after the pair announced they were dating on Instagram, couple Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth have now since broken up due to personal reasons and “mutual agreement” according to a source. We will miss the sweet ex-couple, and we wish the best for Y/N and Tom!
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user1 guys im going to cry
user2 this wasn’t in my 2023 plans.
user3 actual tears
user4 ik rachel is heartbroken rn bc they’re both her close friends and she introduced them to one another 😭😭
➥ user5 you’re so right OMG
user6 they were so good together?? im upset
user7 he’s single now….. YES
ynuser me time 🌞 (new skincare video up soon yayy!!)
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user8 guys, it’s official. she unfollowed tom
➥ user9 it’s the way he still follows her and likes all her posts like this is too sad to watch ☹️
user10 girly after unfollowing tom and everything even tho he still follows and likes her post
user11 she doesn’t deserve him lol. not then, not now, not ever
sean.kauf ur time
conangray yess i love you yn
➥ ynuser @/conangray @/sean.kauf i love you two 💘
rachelzegler only girls party
➥ user12 oh?
hollywoodnews Oh? is this a new romance brewing? Actress and music artist, YN Avocot and her fellow actor and cast mate Sean Kaufman seen awfully comfortable in multiple restaurants not long after YN’s breakup with her ex-boyfriend, actor Tom Blyth
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user13 cant defend yn anymore
➥ user14 she never asked u to defend her stop being delulu..
user15 welp called it, she’s a hoe
user16 doesn’t sean have a gf? not her homewrecking…
user17 acting like all that after she’s single please someone humble her immediately
user18 guys stop sending hate to yn, it’s literally not gonna help anyone. she’s single, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants without you guys being down her back 24/7.
liked by @/tomblyth
➥ user19 hello tom blyth literally liked ur comment??
user20 not tom still being nice to her even after all this. Personally me? Id never take that level of disrespect
ynuser “all because i liked a boy” OUT NOW! This song was originally something else that I put off for a really long time until now, it’s all from my experiences so it makes it very personal for me. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! As always, be kind to yourself and one another ❤️
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sean.kauf love this, love YOU!
➥ ynuser ❤️❤️
conangray this is a masterpiece
user21 THE REFERENCES TO THE HATE COMMENTS OMG ☹️☹️ this song is so good she doesn’t deserve all the hate she gets
user22 and all of this for what? WHEN EVERYTHIN’ WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP
➥ user23 TELL ME WHO I AM GUESS I DONT HAVE A CHOICE
summary: A case takes them to Massachusetts, where you are reunited with your past and the people who carry it.
warnings: a bit of jealousy on Spencer's part, though overall nothing so far in this part.
this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader
words: 1,185 words.
a/n: after a while, I finally bring you the third part of law in pink, the truth is that I've been wandering a lot about what to write, but I finally found it. I want to point out that this "chapter" will be divided in two or three parts (I'm not sure yet), to reward you for your time.
Without anything else to add, thanks for reading.
Working in the FBI field always ended up surprising you.
Not because every day was a new adventure, with new cases that could border on the edge of human sanity, but because it could bring you face to face with people from your past.
A new case had dragged you to Massachusetts, where you saw old faces you recognized on your way to the police station.
The conversation with Emily was what was stealing your attention, and even more so when it was about one of the topics you dealt with the most, besides the criminal code, and that was hair care. You had recommended a new product to the woman and she was talking to you about how good her hair looked, it even looked shinier than usual from both perspectives.
"I know! Plus, it's not tested on animals and their products are 100% natural, it's like a little bit of paradise in your hands." You commented sipping from your coffee, placed your bag to the side as you watched Spencer walk in with a folder in his hands and well focused on it.
It was no secret that after his gift it had caused the two of you to connect a little more than usual, and everyone could tell with the little love language gestures you each had on each side, like how every morning you gave him his coffee the way he liked it because you had memorized them or how he took care to save you a spot next to him on the jet where the sunlight would hit so your skin would get the vitamin D it needed for the day.
You quickly pushed away the chair that was in front of the map the opposite had drawn up and watched him sit down, returning to your conversation with Emily. Spencer thanked you with a silent gesture, causing you to smile as you listened intently to Emily converse about the difference in her hair from week to week.
But, their conversation was interrupted as Derek and J.J were entering the room with a box of donuts.
"The breakfast express had just arrived, ladies... And Spencer." The smell of frying and sugar made you immediately turn to the table to see that they had found just the donuts you had been chatting about a couple of days ago.
"Are those the gluten-free donuts? I haven't seen them in years, they look just as delicious as when I was here." Your voice let out a soft sound of joy, approaching the one glazed with pink and had a flower drawn on top. "These are the best donuts you'll ever taste, and it's also suitable for the gluten intolerant."
The sweet taste of the donut made you stir as you brought a hand to your mouth in surprise, it was as if the past had just slapped you in the face.
You turned in the direction of Spencer, who looked quite immersed in his work.
"Spencie." The man looked up at your call. You brought the doughnut close to his face and smiled, letting the scent of your 'Miss Dior' perfume permeate his nose. "Try it."
"Ah, no thank you. I am at the moment somewhat busy, Y/N..." His hand was trying to push yours away, plus you kept watching him with that look that caused Spencer to give you the whole world. "B-besides! I'm faithful to my chocolate donut with sprinkles-"
"With sprinkles on top... Come on, Spencer, I'm not asking you to eat it all, just taste it."
The tasting-not tasting fight they were carrying on was interrupted when Hotch walked in where his face showed quite a bit of annoyance.
"What's going on, Hotch?"
"The suspect's lawyer is in the interrogation room." Commented Rossi, who simply modulated 'he's a jerk'.
"He's coming to talk to us now." Finished Hotch, who was heading straight for a cup of coffee but didn't quite reach for it when a rather annoying voice interrupted him.
You didn't know if it was your imagination or the memories of that place that made you cough, the smell of expensive cologne and mint made you push the donut away from your hands. You set it down on a napkin, listening as it echoed back to that voice that once spoke honeyed words to you.
"Agents, a pleasure. I'm defense attorney, Warner Huntington III."
Where was the closest place to hide from that character? You thought, but you wouldn't let the man you used to call "teddy bear" get you down at that moment.
" Lawyer Huntington, this is the BAU team. Agent Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, Dr. Reid and Agent Woods."
Your gaze connected with Warner's, who let out a gasp of surprise at the sight of you.
"Y/N... Wow, it's been a while, darli-"
"It's good to see you, Attorney Huntington." You commented as you watched him from your position.
You watched him approach you, plus Spencer's body made it so he couldn't take any more steps than intended, well... Spencer's leg was the one that separated you, as he stretched his legs out, separating you both just enough so that nothing of your bodies would rub together in any way.
A safe distance for both of them, thanks to Spencer.
"You two know each other?" J.J. asked, who watched intrigued.
"We were coupl-"
"We were part of the same Harvard Law generation, actually. We both graduated, but we took different paths." You lied in front of them, and they could read it when Warner's face grimaced.
It was clear that the two of you had a bond that was more than close, but the way you didn't want them to find out was the answer to resolving that which the others had to find out until you decided to talk about it.
"Rather, both of us-"
"Counselor, what exactly is the reason you're here?" asked Spencer, who watched from his position, with that feigned smile you already knew how to distinguish.
"Ah, yes. I was coming to introduce myself as the defense attorney, as well as discuss the legal issues surrounding my client." He turned to look at Hotch, who was drinking from his cup with that face that the situation displeased him. "I'd like to discuss a few things with Agent Woods, since we both graduated from Harvard and have the same degree from-"
"Actually, Agent Prentiss is also a Criminal Justice graduate, you could discuss with her along with Dr. Reid in addition to Agent Woods."
The way Hotch had cut Warner off made you let out a small chuckle, thanking in the direction of the major, who was simply giving you a discreet wink.
"Yeah, right. Three's better than one, you're right." Warner's voice wavered a bit before he opened his mouth again. "Good, then I'll come by later to discuss these details, they're calling me from the firm, excuse me."
Silence immediately settled in the room, but before they could blurt anything out, you immediately turned in everyone's direction and blurted out.
"I have a good explanation for this, I promise."
♡ first part | previous part ♡
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summary: Finally the mystery of Mr. "W" has been solved, but his appearance will cause quite a few problems.
warnings: this chapter contains strong themes such as harassment, strong vocabulary, physical violence, among other topics !!!
this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader
words: 1,606 words.
! a/n at the end of the chapter, pls read it; I think this is not one of the best chapters I've ever written, so I apologize in advance :(
The stares around you were attentive to your words, even though Hotch and Rossi weren't the gossipy type, they wanted to hear the reason why that jerk was so interested in spending time alone with you.
"Warner and I have known each other since I was a student at UCLA, but he broke up with me when he decided he didn't want a 'Marilyn' by his side, but a 'Jackie'. To prove that I could be a 'Jackie' too, I decided to study to get into Harvard Law, but eventually I realized that I didn't need a 'Kennedy' to decide if I wanted to be a 'Marilyn' or a 'Jackie', if I wanted to I could be both at the same time." You took a long sip from your cup of coffee, which was already iced, before watching the faces of the people listening intently to your story. "Things didn't end very well between the two of us, even more so after a certain event in our college life that made him want to try it with me and I turned him down."
You bit your lip in embarrassment, but not for being overwhelmed by the fact of what had happened, but for hiding that part of your story from your friends.
"I know you have to be as honest as possible in this kind of work, but I didn't think I'd run into Warner one more time in life. To me, he's a chapter in the past and that, if I could, I would eliminate him." You admitted with a laugh, bringing both hands to your waist. "I'm sorry, guys."
"It's okay, darling. It's understandable why you didn't talk about him, he's a total jerk from head to toe, even his cologne shows it." Emily was the first to comfort you, something that made you let out a soft sigh and give her a small smile.
"As long as that doesn't interfere with your performance and behavior, you wouldn't have to explain, Woods." Hotch commented, who was nodding and giving one of those smiles that you understood was a soft sigh to your heart.
"Thanks Hotch." You replied back, as you heard him let out a 'get back to work'.
You stared at the coffee cup, sensing Spencer's presence in front of you. Your gaze was fixed on this one, who was folding his arms as he watched the toe of his sneakers.
"Doesn't it bother you that he's around?"
"Mhm?"
"Doesn't it bother you that he's this... him around you? You know, involved in the case." You sighed, resting both hands on your hips as you watched him. "Because if I were in your position it would bother me, much more so with his attitude and wordplay concerning J.F. Kennedy and his possible affair with Marilyn Monroe-"
"Spencie, it doesn't bother me at all. Warner is part of my past and without him, I might still be in California, working at something I might not like and living in that bubble that held me back for too long..." Your feet carried you to stand in front of Spencer, managing to take his hand in your hands and you smiled. "Besides, I wouldn't have met the best jet travel companion."
The blush on the tall man's cheeks made you smile, leaving a kiss on his cheek and a squeeze on his hand.
"Even if you don't believe it, I'm stronger than I look." You commented as you tried to strike a pose that could show off the muscles in your arms, but ended up laughing as you saw him fall into a fit of laughter at your attempt. "I'll be fine, Spencie. Don't worry."
The latter let out a sigh and nodded softly, allowing himself to stop worrying about the man who looked like he would cause more trouble than he thought.
The rest of the week had passed quite calmly, the case had given quite good resolutions and they had managed to find the culprit after a couple of evidences.
Your hands found themselves putting the papers away inside a folder with the name of the case on it, placing them inside the box of evidence and documents left on the station table.
"A lot of work, Y/N?"
Your whole body tensed at the sound of that voice, causing you to turn to watch Warner enter the office.
"Sort of, but that's normal for this kind of work, after all." Your response was terse, turning your attention back to those papers.
It was clear in the atmosphere that you didn't want to share with Warner, and that what you wanted in that instant was for someone to arrive and interrupt your meeting alone with him.
You had both ended in a rather humiliating way, especially for him, even more so when you came out of college with contacts and he with no girlfriend or contacts, even with a matriculation with honors.
"You should thank me" Your head turned to look at him, feeling his words give off that self-centeredness that had blinded you when you were dating him and that, now, only made you want to vomit "without me, you wouldn't have made the decision to study at Harvard and get this life of luxury you have right now."
"With you or without you, I would have succeeded whatever I did because I did it with my effort, not yours." You paused before turning around. "But yes, I do appreciate you acting like a rube and opening my eyes to what I wanted to be in the future. Thank you, Warner." Your tone of voice was pure sarcasm, but the man didn't even know a lie from the truth.
Your hands were quick so you could put things away as quickly as possible, but your body was set in stone when you felt his hands run along your waist.
"Don't play hard to get, I know you miss me as much as I miss you. You try to dissemble in front of your colleagues, but I know you still love me, c'mon boo bear."
Disgust was in the pit of your throat and your body was not reacting to those actions, why couldn't you move?
" L-let me go, Warner."
Suddenly, your mind reacted, beginning to send stimuli throughout your body in the form of an alert.
"Don't be mean, Y/N... Admit it, you miss me."
"Let me go now."
"I know you like it and I know you don't mean it."
"Stop it!"
Your palm began to burn as the sound of the resounding slap you gave your opponent reached your ears, causing you to quickly pull away from him. Your chest rose and fell, feeling the desperation to escape right then and there as fast as possible.
"On your fucking life ever touch me again, on your fucking life." Your hands went to your body, beginning to bring warmth to yourself in order to soothe yourself.
"You're stupid, look how you left my face. You're going to pay for it."
But before you could do anything, Warner's body fell against the table. Your gaze lifted, settling on Spencer who was holding the man's wrist and keeping him pinned completely immobilized.
"Even you won't be able to get out of this one, 'lawyer'. You dare touch her again and I swear I'll kill you and get rid of you without even realizing you're missing." Spencer's steady gaze made her connect with yours, feeling her relax at the calmer sight of you. "Are you okay?"
Your head nodded, watching as Warner couldn't get rid of Spencer even if he gave all his efforts. Your body relaxed, feeling at peace as you realized that, with Spencer by your side, no one could hurt you.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
The trip back home took longer than usual, the recent events had left you spinning some thoughts that were not going to leave you alone.
Everyone was worried, but they didn't want to relive the events for clear reasons. But you also didn't want everyone to see you as if you were made of porcelain, what had happened had left you with more lessons than fears.
Your attention turned to the cup of tea in front of you, taking in the smell of book and coffee wafting from your seatmate.
"Green tea with a teaspoon of sugar, just the way you like it."
A faint smile tugged at your lips, caused by the man's arrival.
"Thank you, Spencie. This was just what I needed right now." You admitted, taking it in your hands and taking a soft sip, letting out a long sigh after swallowing it. "It's been quite a long day today."
Silence flooded you both, causing you to bite your lower lip in order to turn in the direction of your opponent.
"Y/N, about what happened..."
"It's okay Spencer, we don't need to talk about it. Besides, I don't think it's the right place." You sighed.
You both stood in silence, respectively staring into your cups with that splinter in your heart. The situation had been enough for both of you.
"Thank you Spencie." The silence you decided to break, turning in his direction. "I appreciate you being there."
"War-" he paused "He won't bother you again, rest assured, I'll take care of it personally."
You nodded softly before turning your attention to your mug, keeping the silence between the two of you.
Your hand wrapped around Spencer's arm, resting your head on his shoulder.
This time the silence wasn't awkward.
It was a comfortable one that indicated they would be okay.
Yeah, they'll be alright.
♡ previous part ♡
a/n: hello everyone, I am finally making my presence known
I'm really sorry for leaving you all so soon, but if you don't know, I'm in my last year of college and it's become a total chaos, and between my assigments and social life, my inspiration had to give up and it's become a bit difficult to bring you a chapter of both "Law in Pink" and "Boy Wonder and the Rockstar", even bringing you au's.
I promise you that I had this chapter almost ready but I wasn't quite convinced, so I didn't want to leave you with a chapter that I really felt wasn't the essence that I give off in each chapter.
I hope you liked it and I'll see you in the next chapter of "Law in pink", thanks to all who have left their comments and interactions, I appreciate them infinitely.
see you soon!
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