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eoieopda · 4 months ago

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insomniac | ljh (m)

there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.

summary: it’s 2:00 am, and you can’t turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); there’s a sentence about reader taking “an inadvisable amount of melatonin gummies” — don’t do this! — but they’re not impaired in any way; reader’s internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip i’ve attempted for months. ✰ minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoon™️, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i haven’t written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that i’m exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isn’t incoherent garbage. 😵‍💫 dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.

You should be asleep.

With the day you’ve had, you should’ve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you should’ve stayed that way — unmoving, unconscious — for several hours, at minimum.

If the week’s worth of sleep debt wasn’t exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.

From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, you’ve listened. You’re burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you.

It’s not, though.

With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: it’s beautiful.

But it’s not enough.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely he’s got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time you’ve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths he’s aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, you’d rather die.

Taking his silence as a sign that you’ve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him.

Nothing.

But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts.

“Fuck,” you mouth to no one.

It wouldn’t be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.

You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict.

Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him.

He’ll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see won’t be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.

It’ll be fine.

If you go to sleep right now, you’ll get five hours and thirty —

“You haven’t unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,” notes the world’s groggiest voice from over your shoulder.

Jihoon’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you might’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.

He shifts again. This time, there’s no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isn’t separate from yours at all.

With the distance erased, his face — the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks — can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.

“What are we spinning our wheels over tonight?” He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.

The fact that he can’t see your face doesn’t stop you from frowning. Yet again, you’ve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you don’t need him to. You’ll hold it against yourself — grudge by proxy.

“I don’t even know,” you admit with a frustrated huff. “There’s nothing coherent going on up there.” You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. “Nothing articulable, just… blender brain.”

“Mmm.”

Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, you’ve learned that you’re incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when he’s got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.

A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, you’re convinced that he’s fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.

“How do we unplug the blender?”

You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isn’t his.

When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. “Hmm?”

He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, “I can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and —”

The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if he’s conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.

You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, “What’s the second thing?”

His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. It’s simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. It’s more than enough to make you shiver:

“Making you cum.”

But as crazy as that statement makes you, you can’t make yourself act on it.

At any other time, you’d jump on that opportunity — jump on him — in a heartbeat. All you’re able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound.

Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.

He’s only offering so you’ll stop keeping him awake.

He’s as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.

Burden.

Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. “I love you,” you start. He stills. “But, Jihoon, you’re so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. It’s okay — I’m okay.”

Jihoon doesn’t push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, it’s yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, “Love you,” before relaxing back against the pillows.

Minutes pass.

Maybe hours, for all you know.

As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know you’re wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what he’s offering.

The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.

Maybe you’d be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just — fucking — sleep.

Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.

You fail.

Maybe, since you can’t sleep, you and your wilted little brain should’ve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu —

“That’s enough,” Jihoon grunts.

The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.

Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but it’s not the sudden moves that shook it loose; it’s the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. It’s the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which must’ve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.

The very best you can come up with is, “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” he retorts without missing a beat.

That face — god, that face — doesn’t budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern you’ve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isn’t even remotely harsh when he continues, “If those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.”

Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoon’s eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.

He speaks when you don’t, hard edges softening slightly. “I can fix it,” he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there.

Let me take care of you.

That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort you’ve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.

“I have to admit it, though,” Jihoon confesses. “Yours isn’t the only mind that’s restless.”

He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snail’s pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.

“I’ve been holding you for hours now, and all that time —”

He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasn’t.

“— I’ve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me —”

His touch whispers over your collarbone. It’s the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, it’s not an apology that you’re keeping to yourself but a whimper.

“— or lay you back against the pillows —”

You don’t mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you can’t help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath you’ve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.

Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. “— Take my time, and —”

Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. “Fuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.”

Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry.

You don’t, thankfully.

Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling.

“I want that,” you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, “No, it’s not even want. It’s —” Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. “— need. I need you.”

You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again.

Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. There’s no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.

Though he’d be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesn’t. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesn’t say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.

Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.

With your chest bare, it’s obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: “Let me take care of you.”

And you do.

You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.

Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You should’ve known this would be the case.

He said he’d fix it, didn't he?

And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.

Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, he’s equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, he’s downright celestial — almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.

Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, “You’re beautiful.”

His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesn’t groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward — just barely — and he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” you quietly insist.

Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. “You’re relaxing, remember?”

Though you could double-down, any fight you might’ve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps — which ultimately isn’t much at all — to keep from floating away.

“Bold of you to call me beautiful,” he murmurs against your body, “When you just exist like this.”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.

With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.

Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he can’t get enough of.

As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.

Eloquent as always, you moan, “Fuuuuck.”

The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.

It’s incredible.

No, it’s fucking perfect.

Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and it’s over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.

Apparently, he’s just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.

Your questions overlap.

“Did you just —”

“— make me cum from this?”

His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, “Oh, shit.” Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, “Goddamn.”

A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know he’s facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but that’s not a conclusion the pair of you can just — leap to.

There’s simply too much of him to take if he doesn’t fuck you open with his fingers first.

Jihoon shakes his head, as if he’s telling himself no. Like he’s reminding himself of what he promised — or threatened, more like — earlier, that he’s taking his time.

As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldn’t. So, you don’t. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach.

With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, “You’re perfect.”

Not generally, no.

However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isn’t a battle worth picking. In this moment, you’re willing to entertain the possibility that you’re perfect for him.

A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth must’ve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes he’s lost.

You’d be content to stay this way forever — and likely could, if it came down to it — but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.

Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you — the one you’re still thinking about; the one he’ll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.

“Listen to you,” he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers.

As if you weren’t already acutely aware of the way you’ve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isn’t enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.

You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesn’t let it affect his pace — just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.

His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. “I think you’ve got another one for me, don’t you?”

Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.

“In fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,” he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. “Think you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.”

You think you’ll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.

When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, it’s not a clap of thunder but a roll — patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does — makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.

Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. It’s anyone’s guess whether you have any bones left. You’re sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoon’s body caging you in.

“Don’t ask me what my name is.” Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, “I do not remember, and I do not care.”

He kisses the temple that isn’t smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. “If you’re spent, I can sto—”

“Don’t you dare.”

The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, you’re sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesn’t. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.

“I’ll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.”

“Easy, tiger,” he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The whole point of this was for you to relax.”

To prove that you haven’t lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely.

You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, “Jihoon… Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. “But I can’t fuck you unless you give my arm back.”

Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if he’s asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.

Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s a sight you’ve seen a thousand times — his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire — yet it’s one you’ll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that he’s never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.

If you’re being honest, that’s one of the things you’ve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; he’s never been caught sweating.

The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when he’s this incomprehensibly hard.

Really, you don’t deserve him.

Nevertheless, you get him anyway.

Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.

In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you — trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.

“Deep breath,” he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.

It’s good advice — something Jihoon probably should’ve heeded.

He doesn’t.

You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, that’s precisely what’s causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.

When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.

To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. “Alright?”

Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, he’ll understand; he always does.

Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch that’s erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.

Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.

To prove it to yourself that you’re not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised — slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body must’ve learned to keep him close.

“Love the way you grip me, but...” Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, “You keep that up, and I’ll cum too soon.”

He’s one to talk.

Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge.

If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there won’t be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it — to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls — to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you — to feel so fucking full — for as long as he gives you.

It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.

“Oh.”

One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.

At least you’re not the only one.

“Fuck, fuck —”

Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoon’s body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. “— Fuck,” he groans, all the while twitching inside you.

Though he slows, he doesn’t stop. It’s not until he pants, “Kiss me,” that you realize it: Jihoon doesn’t intend to stop.

Neither, it seems, do you.

Maybe you’re greedy. Maybe you’re too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, it’s the way his cock doesn’t soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.

You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. It’s indulgent — messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.

“Can you still speak in sentences?” He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.

Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say.

“I’m — you’re gonna make me —”

You can’t choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didn’t even know existed; there’s no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.

He’s caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again — hard — and the arms bearing his weight buckle.

Jihoon’s flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.

“What just happened?” He sounds as delirious as you feel. “That was… shit. What did your body just do?”

You have no idea.

You have no capacity to form any.

All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound — not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.

Eventually, although you can’t imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You don’t see anything that happens next, but you feel it all — the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.

“I’m coming back to clean you up,” he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, “Don’t move.”

I won’t, you think but don’t say.

And you don’t move.

At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.

svt taglist: @ashonheavenscloud @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rasparagus @bouclesdefeu @ourkivee @sourkimchi @gyuguys

multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon

also paging the cap gang: @daechwitatamic @yoongukie-ff

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mingtinys · 8 months ago

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" you always come first "

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

a/n : producer !! woozi !! that's it (:

Jihoon is exactly where you expect to find him when you get home from work. Hunched over in his chair, eyes boring into a computer screen, and pen in hand furiously scribbling away at a notepad. You knock three times to alert him of your presence. He turns to you with a wide smile and tired eyes.

"Hi," He breathes out, ushering you in with his hand. You oblige, though you don't plan to stay for long. It's been a long day and you're tired. But on top of that, you know Jihoon enough to notice when he's gotten into a rhythm and doesn't want to be disturbed.

"How was your day?" He humors. His hand settles back on the mouse and he begins clicking around the program he uses. "Fine," you shrug, stopping just behind his chair, a little curious as to what he's doing. "Tiring, but not the worst it could've been."

Your replies are rather lackluster and you can tell Jihoon notices by the way he quirks up an eyebrow at your last sentence.

You rake your fingers through his hair, smoothing back the pieces that have fallen out of place before letting your hand rest on his shoulder. He hums in satisfaction when you press a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll let you get back to work."

Jihoon cranes his neck to peer back with a confused frown on his lips. "Aren't you going to tell me about your day?"

Your brain short circuits for a moment and you just stare at him, dumbfounded. Of course, Jihoon always takes time out of his schedule to hear about your day. However, he usually prefers to finish up whatever he's working on first so he doesn't lose focus. "You look busy, I don't want to interrupt. This looks important." You wave your hand vaguely at his screen.

He just tsks, then swiftly saves his project and cuts the power to his monitor. "You're important. You always come first, now tell me what's wrong." He's spun around in his chair, already standing up to take you in his arms, and trails his fingers up and down your spine.

He smells nice and his warmth is comforting, inviting. A long sigh escapes your lips and you allow yourself to relish in the feeling Jihoon brings. Tucking your face into his shoulder and melding into his hold.

"Just feeling a little worn out, but it's better now."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion

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daisymbin · 22 days ago

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crossing lines - lee jihoon

warnings: none

pairings: lee jihoon x reader

genre: drunken confession

wc: 1.2k

a/n: again...FUCK HYBE

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

it was late, way later than either of you usually stayed out, but tonight was different. everyone had gathered for mingyu’s birthday, laughter and stories filling the night as drinks kept flowing around you. normally, jihoon would avoid the alcohol altogether, the guy who’d nurse a soda while the others threw back rounds, saying he didn’t like the taste or couldn’t afford to feel off-balance with his schedule. but tonight was different.

you’d watched him quietly from across the table as he poured himself a drink, then another, and another, with a distant look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. concern tightened in your chest as you glanced over, hoping he’d meet your gaze so you could tell if he was okay. when he caught your eye, he only offered a half-hearted smile before downing yet another glass, one you knew he wasn’t used to.

by the time everyone decided to head out, jihoon was a little unsteady, the tipsiness clear in the faint flush of his cheeks and the softness in his eyes. you walked alongside him, watching his steps carefully as the two of you wandered through the quiet streets, the night air cool against your skin.

“jihoon… are you sure you’re okay?” you asked quietly, not wanting to make him feel called out but unable to hold back your worry. “i’ve never seen you drink like that.”

he shrugged, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk in front of him. “i’m fine,” he muttered, his tone flat, almost annoyed.

still, you stayed close to his side, just in case he needed you. you’d never seen him like this, never seen him drink this much, and the way he seemed so closed off only made you worry more.

after a few minutes, you tried again. “it’s just… it’s not like you,” you said gently. “you usually stay away from this kind of thing, so… if something’s wrong, you know you can tell me, right?”

he stopped suddenly, his hands clenching at his sides as he turned to look at you, his expression hardened with frustration. “why are you always like this?” he snapped, his voice low but sharp. “always hovering, always checking up on me?”

his words stung, his tone harsher than you’d ever heard from him. “jihoon, i’m just worried—”

“yeah, well, maybe you don’t need to be,” he cut in, his gaze dark and tired. “maybe i just… maybe i needed a break from all of this. from… from you.”

his voice cracked slightly on that last word, and you could see the way his shoulders tensed, as if he hadn’t meant to say that, as if he was fighting with himself. a silence stretched between you, the words hanging heavy in the air, and you struggled to find something to say, anything to ease the hurt simmering beneath his words.

“why… would you need a break from me?” you asked softly, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of his words.

jihoon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he looked away. “because you make it impossible,” he muttered, his words slurred but filled with a quiet frustration. “you’re always so… so kind. so nice. it drives me insane.”

“what… what do you mean?” you asked, your heart feeling caught in your throat.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair in that familiar, frustrated way. “you don’t get it, do you?” he said, his tone softer now, almost resigned. “i tried… i tried to forget about you. i thought maybe… maybe if i drank, maybe if i could just let go for one night, i’d stop thinking about you. but no. you’re always right there, making it impossible to forget.”

his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. “you… you’re trying to forget about me?”

he let out another bitter laugh, his gaze still fixed on the ground. “yeah. because it’s always you. i hate how you just… get stuck in my head like this. you’re always there, and i can’t… i can’t just ignore it.”

your heart felt like it was racing as you processed what he had just said. “jihoon…”

he shook his head, his expression softening as if he was exhausted by his own feelings. “do you know how hard it is?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “to see you every day, to know you’re right there, and to know that you… you probably don’t feel the same way.”

you stared at him, your own feelings swirling as his confession settled over you. “jihoon, i…”

he shook his head again, trying to brush it off. “forget it,” he mumbled. “i shouldn’t have said anything. just… just ignore me.”

but before he could move, you reached out, gently grabbing his hand. he froze, glancing down at where your fingers were wrapped around his, his expression softening as he looked up at you.

“i don’t… i don’t want to forget, jihoon,” you said softly, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “and i don’t want you to, either.”

his gaze held yours, something fragile and hopeful flickering in his eyes. “what… what are you saying?”

jihoon looked at you, searching your face as if he was trying to memorize every detail. his hand was warm in yours, and the closeness felt like something you’d both been keeping at arm’s length for far too long. a charged silence filled the air, and you could feel your heart pounding, every word he’d just confessed still hanging between you.

“i… i don’t think i can just forget what you said, jihoon,” you whispered, your voice unsteady but honest.

jihoon’s eyes softened, his gaze flickering down to where your hands were still intertwined. "but im scared, I don't know how to act around you and- what if our friendship...I cant lose you." jihoon admitted softly

you took a step closer, feeling your pulse quicken as you looked up at him. “maybe… maybe we can just try.” you said, the words escaping before you could second-guess them.

for a moment, he looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he was on the edge of something he couldn’t put into words. “you’re making this really hard, you know that?” he whispered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“i know,” you replied softly, unable to hold back a smile of your own. “but i think it’s worth it.”

he hesitated, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, as if he was still wrestling with himself. then, finally, he gave in, leaning in slowly until his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and steady.

“if we do this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “there’s no going back.”

“i don’t want to go back,” you whispered, feeling the weight of every unspoken feeling you’d both held back for so long.

and in that moment, with the world quiet around you, he finally closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting forever. his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he let himself be vulnerable in a way he never had before as he kissed you, slow and deliberate.

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seouljazzbar · 11 months ago

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𓆙 watermelon sugar — lee jihoon ★ .ᐟ

summary - “blowjobs are called jobs for a reason but going down on your girl is called eating out because it's a privilege” or your boyfriend just wants to eat you out word count - 1.3k warning - pussy worship, bed humping, slight dirty talk, oral + fingering (both f. recieving), jihoon cums all over himself poor baby — MINORS DNI! 18+ author’s note: i haven’t written fic in a while so here’s to me getting back to it! this is a refresh of an old fic i wrote but with a little polishing! something short and sweet for my woozi girls warnings: just a thousand words on jihoon eating pussy word count: 1.2k

There was something so alluring about seeing you fresh out of the bathtub. Your hair pulled away from your face, skin glowing in its post-cleanse state, hints of mango and chamomile wafting off of your body as you lathered lotion all over yourself. You’d had a long day and decided to treat yourself to a soak in the bath, all of your favorite products used generously in the seething hot water as you played music from your speakers.

Jihoon watched from your bed, eyes shifting between his phone screen and the indent of your spine as you sat at your vanity. Watching the way the black slip adorned your figure as you slid it on carefully, adjusting the straps the way you needed them to be. He didn’t want to interrupt you, knowing how much you loved your ‘me time’, especially after a long day dealing with your asshole of a boss. You looked so peaceful as you moisturized your face, humming along to snoh aalegra instead of singing because you didn’t know all of the words.

“Did you want me to order something for dinner? I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure if you ate and I didn't wanna disrupt your bath.”

You smiled at him sweetly, swiping a layer of balm to your lips before joining him atop your duvet. “I could go for some food, yeah.” You turned on Netflix on the TV, shuffling through the popular section to find something new for the two of you to watch. His gazing in wonderment at you staggered your focus, causing you to look over at him quizzically. “Everything okay?”

“More than,” He scooted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your midsection as he kissed you delicately, not daring to deepen it like he was scared to break you. “You’re just so beautiful, it’s hard not to stare.”

Your relationship with Jihoon was still fairly new. Navigating intimacy still made you bashful, and his eyes focused on you in such close proximity still made you want to hide from him. Your heart fluttered as the feeling of his breath on your face hit, his smile obvious in your peripheral as you averted your eyes in sheepishness. That warm fuzzy feeling was back, your face all prickly as the scent of his cologne washed over you again.

You leaned closer to kiss him again, tasting your own strawberry balm on his lips before your tongue ventured into his mouth. You held back the moan that bubbled in your throat as his hands lowered to your ass, squeezing the flesh seamlessly before you pulled away. “I think dinner can wait a minute.”

He chuckled against your lips, rolling you over to lay on your back as he propped himself up on his forearms. “Who told you you could look this good?” His lips littered kisses across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, your giggles music to his ears as he migrated your warm skin. Your hands gripped at the waistband of his sweats, fully prepared to tug them down his legs until he stopped you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I just thought, you know, I could help you out.”

Jihoon shook his head, hiking your slip up to your waist to expose your thin cotton panties to him. “I’m not worried about that right now, I just wanna taste you.”

Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as he licked his lips, moving so that he was laid comfortably in between your legs. You pushed your knees together to shield yourself from his line of vision, smoothing your slip back down your legs. “But I haven't shaved in a few days.”

“Baby, I'm a grown ass man. Now open up.” He discarded your panties, lugging you closer to his face as his hands enveloped your thighs. His tongue was hot as it pressed against your clit, slowly dragging up the nerve endings before swirling around it. You squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through you, hands clutching onto the duvet as his tongue dipped into your hole. He hummed against you, eyes rolling back at the taste he’d been craving since you invited him over. “So so good.”

The soles of your feet pressed against his back as he continued to explore your core, fingers trailing delicately along your hips as you refused to keep still. “Oh, my god, right there.”

“Feel good, baby?” He smirked more so to himself as he curled a finger into you, relishing in the hitch of your breath and the relocation of your hands to his hair as you pulled at it desperately.

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut as your head fell back against the pillows. You’d normally feel a bit embarrassed by the loud squelching noises your body was making as Jihoon’s fingers kneaded your g-spot, but it felt so good that you forced yourself to bask in it. “I’m almost there, Jihoon, fuck.”

“Let go, baby, give it to me.”

The tension in your stomach snapped as he added another finger, tongue still working your clit as your legs clamped around his head. His pace was unrelenting even when you tried to push him away, trying to rush out that you were done. “I-I came already, I’m too sensitive.”

He pulled away momentarily, wiping at his mouth as he looked up at you. “I'm not finished with you yet though.” Your taste stained his tongue in a way that he couldn’t get enough of, eager for more with each lick of your folds. He was absolutely addicted to you in a way you weren't used to and it surprised you every single time. “Taste yourself.”

Jihoon replaced his mouth with his fingers, digging his palm into your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at just the right speed. He hovered over you as he kissed you, licking into your mouth so you could taste yourself in all your glory. You moaned quietly, followed by a whimper as he withdrew his hand from your heat. His fingers tapped at her mouth and you opened immediately, licking them clean of your own arousal without him having to tell you to.

He settled back between your legs and dove right back in without missing a beat, making your thighs shake around him in no time. He flattened his tongue between your folds as he shook his head, bringing that ball of tension back to your belly as his fingers slipped right back into you. You hadn’t even noticed that his hips were grinding into the mattress, humping in time with the rhythm of his fingers as he worked you through your second orgasm. “I don't think I can take a third.”

“Yes, you can, baby.”

His thumb rubbed circles around your clit as his tongue and fingers thrusted into you, stretching out your walls as your hips bucked uncontrollably. Profanities fell from your lips as you gripped his hair tighter, back arching at an alarming angle as you came all over his tongue for the third time. He moaned into you loudly, his grip on your legs deathly as his hips stalled their movements.

You struggled to come back down to earth, your breathing rough and ragged as Jihoon padded off to get you a towel doused in warm water. Your lips just barely muttered out a ‘thank you’ as he cleaned you up, grazing over the insides of your thighs that were sure to be sore in the morning. “It's your turn.”

Jihoon stuttered as he disappeared back into the bathroom, coming back with a towel wrapped around his hips instead of his sweats. “I, um. I’m good, actually.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized why he was good, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “O-oh, you already… Got it.”

“Eating you out just really turns me on.”

#woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #woozi scenarios #jihoon imagines #woozi imagines #woozi fic #jihoon fic #woozi fanfic #jihoon fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #woozi x you #jihoon x you #seventeen x you

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atinystraynstay · 10 months ago

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Late Night Cravings - Lee Jihoon

Synopsis: It's a Friday night, and your hard-working boyfriend has locked himself in this recording studio once again. Jihoon felt guilty for the nights separated from you, whereas you would do anything to watch his fantasies become a reality.

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x fem. reader

Genre: Angst - Jihoon feeling guilty, fluff, established relationship, soft smut - MINORS DNI

Contains: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), dom!Jihoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!!), squirting, creampie

Word Count: 3.5k

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Jihoon let out a frustrated groan. His fingers drove through his hair, frustrated beyond belief at the song-writing process. It wasn't like him to get stuck like this, but here he was - unable to form even words.

He glanced towards the clock and grimaced at the sight of it being close to 2am. He was hoping to have been out of here around 9pm, so he could have made it to your apartment by 10pm. Jihoon was under pressure from the company to get a new demo to them by Sunday. Yet, here he was on a Friday night, barely making progress. He should be with you instead.

When you guys together, you knew that the relationship would require a lot of work. You weren't dating any guy, after all. Music was Woozi's passion in life. You wanted to encourage him to pursue every project that screamed for his attention and the ones he got the most excited about. Even if it meant that he had to cancel plans or you went days without seeing each other, you would do it for you.

That's the part that made Woozi feel the most guilty. You made all these sacrifices for him, sacrificing your own needs to allow him to pursue his goals made him feel lousy. Aren't relationships supposed to be about equality? How can you give that to him when his career doesn't allow him to make such sacrifices? There was very little wiggle room for him when there were constant deadlines and meetings.

Maybe the reason why Jihoon put so much pressure on himself was because this was his first, genuine relationship. He's had flings with people here and there, but they weren't meaningful to him. You, on the other hand, meant everything and so much more. He wanted to make things right with you.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Who could that be?

"Come in," Jihoon called out. He made sure to hit save on his computer on what progress he has made. Even if it was minimal, he would be devastated if it all vanished suddenly. It might be someone from the company who wanted to talk logistics, which can be a length conversations anyways.

The door slowly pushed open. He leaned over his chair to see who it was.

"Surprise?" You called out.

His eyes grew wide at the sight of you. You had your hair pulled back into a high ponytail and were wearing sweats. Yet to him, you looked like you were ready to walk the runway. He picked up on the scent of take-out coming into the room. He glanced down to see your hands holding a white plastic bag. Though he glanced at the clock to see it was 2:07am. You should be asleep.

"Is now a bad time?" You frowned.

He quickly shook his head before spinning his chair around, so he could easily push himself up. He was just absolutely speechless that you knew that he needed a distraction. Realistically, he needed you.

"It's never a bad time, darling." His heart swelled just seeing you in front of him. How did he get so lucky?

You relaxed as you watched Jihoon cross the room to get to you. Jihoon never was the type of person to let height stand in the way of things, but he always found it adorable how you still had to look up at him.

Once he stood in front of you, he cupped your face. You couldn't help but giggle as he tried looking down at you with a stern look. Yet, to you, he was the least intimidating person. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched together as he gazed down at you. His thumbs running over the soft skin of your cheek made you weak in the knees.

'I just thought you'd be asleep right now, sweet girl. You know I don't like it when you're up too late or you're waiting for me." "I know, but I just couldn't get comfortable without you in bed. And then I figured you haven't eaten so I thought maybe food might help you while coming to see you would help me."

Jihoon's heart broke at your statement. He wanted desperately to be the man you deserve, the one that is punctual and not forgetful. There were too many times he could count when he felt like he had let you down. Tonight is an example of that.

"I truly don't deserve you," he sighed." His forehead found yours. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, as he was just taking a moment to feel you so close to him after what felt like centuries apart. "How can I ever make it up to you, angel? How can I repay you for being so damn understanding?"

Your hands moved up to gently rest on his. Your fingertips were caressing against his strong hands which caused his eyes to open. The sight alone caused his heart to melt. You were looking up at him like he was made out of the stars. And to you, he was.

"I just want to be around you, Jihoon. That's all I need."

Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. He removed his hands from your face, so one hand could hold onto your hip. With his free hand, he took the takeout and put it in the mini-fridge. The mini fridge was closer to the front of the studio, right by the couch. He never liked bringing food over towards his equipment, in the case something spilled. He wasn't a fan of messes.

This time is an exception.

With ease, Jihoon lifted you up in his arms. Jihoon could never produce something as beautiful as the sound of your laughter.

His hands were resting underneath you which allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You let out a gasp in surprise before breaking out into a fit of laughter.His arms flexed underneath you, wanting to ensure you that he'd never drop you which caused you to stop the laughter and blush.

He couldn't help but smirk at your now shy reaction. "Oh darling, what's wrong? Something on your mind?" Jihoon walked the two of you over to the leather chair in front of his mixing board. You bit your lip gently, shaking your head. You were honestly just speechless by his strength.

"Tell me, darlin'. What are you missing the most?" He asked as he sat down on the chair. It was the perfect position that already allowed you to straddle him. You got yourself situated, not missing the throaty groan that escaped him.

But he wasn't about to allow you to have the upper hand.

"Have you missed the way my arms feel around you?" As he spoke, his hands started caressing your back. The feeling of the warmth of his hand sent shivers throughout your body in the best way possible.

Slowly, his hands began moving from your back towards your sides. He let his hands run up and down, his fingertips just grazing along your side. It sent goosebumps throughout your body even just feeling his touch through your clothing. He knew all the little ways to make your brain go fuzzy.

His eyes were trained on you, waiting for a response. He couldn't help but smirk as he watched you nod your head gently, your eyes bouncing from his to his wondering hands.

"Or have you missed the way that my fingers split your pussy open? How your tight walls will squeeze around them when you're on the brink of an orgasm? Or do you want to leave my cock to the stretching of your pussy, hmm?"

Your jaw dropped at his words, at the quick 180 he took. He kept one hand on your hip, ensuring you wouldn't go squirming away from him. His other hand moved down your thigh, resting high up. You could feel yourself getting wet with anticipation.

"Because I know I've missed the way you scream for me. I've missed the way your back arches and eyes roll whenever you squirt for me."

Jihoon couldn't ignore the little whimper that left your lips. It caused him to snicker as the hand on your thigh moved up to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. It was tied in a pretty little bow. Jihoon always loved how fiercely independent you are. It was admittedly one of the millions of reasons why Jihoon fell for you.

Reason a million and one was how easily he could make you crumble, how wrapped around his finger you were. It was a mutual love.

"I've been neglecting you a bit too long, haven't I?" he pouted slightly. "Let me make it up to you, angel."

Without further hesitation after receiving a nod from your head, Jihoon undid the bow before dipping past the waistband of the sweatpants. He shivered with excitement at the feeling of your warm ski underneath his fingertips.

Much to his surprise, he didn't feel a second layer underneath. He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised. Immediately, you knew what he was wondering about.

"Like I said, I missed you in bed."

That was enough for Jihoon to take action. With your legs already straddling his waist, he knew you were in the perfect position for his wandering fingers. His index and pointer fingers gently ran up and down your slit. He bit his lip at the feeling of how wet you already were for him.

He couldn't keep his precious baby waiting any longer. His two fingers slipped into your warm, wet pussy. His eyes fluttered shut so you couldn't see the rolling of his eyes at the feeling of how tight, how inviting you were from his. Your own head rolled back slightly, hips pushing towards his as you craved for more.

"I should really punish you for being so impatient right now when I'm giving you what you want," he murmured. His hand moved up to hold your chin, making your head tilt back to look into his eyes. "But I like too much knowing you need me as badly as I need you right now."

And he did need you. You could feel his boner growing harder against your thigh, twitching almost to be freed. You wanted so desperately to touch him, to provide him some relief as well, but you weren't sure you were allowed.

Not when it seemed that Jihoon was adamant about providing you pleasure first. His fingers began to thrust in and out of your pussy. Your juices were coating his fingers as they were pushed all the way.

Jihoon took a moment to admire you in this state. Your chest was starting to rise and fall, just as soft whimpers and moans were leaving your lips. The feeling of your warm pussy clenching onto his fingers just enhanced how beautiful you are. All for him.

His fingers began to curl towards your g-spot which made you gasp. His tongue was poking out of his mouth slightly, a sign of determination you've grown so accustomed to. He also didn't let your clit go unoccupied as his thumb was rubbing fast circles into the bundle of nerves. Jihoon has always been talented with his fingers.

"Is that what you've been missing?" Jihoon asked teasingly.

You shook your head quickly as you made sure to look into his eyes. His fingers were grazing against you g-spot, sure. And you were on the brink of facing your first orgasm, but it's not what you wanted.

Not when it felt like you were being suffocated by the layers you were wearing, or how they were beginning to stick slightly to your skin from the sweat. You wanted to experience a closeness to him you've been craving for one too many nights.

He slowed down your fingers, curious as to what was going on in your mind. His head also tilted, an eyebrow raised as you studied you for a moment. "No? Oh, baby. Use your big girl words."

"I need your cock in me. I want to cum with you in me and to feel you cum in me. I need you to fuck me so hard that I can't move afterwards. Please," you begged him.

Now, who was he to deny you? Especially when you asked so sweetly.

Jihoon's fingers stilled in you as he gazed up into your eyes. You were whimpering, hips subconsciously grinding against his fingers. God, how did he get so lucky? He could see the lust swirling in your eyes.

"Take off your sweatpants baby then mine. I'll give you what you really need."

The moment his fingers slipped out of your sweatpants, you immediately were tugging off your sweatpants. He chuckled at your eagerness. He took the opportunity to slip his fingers into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of your pussy on his fingers. He's missed the taste of you.

Feeling eyes on him, he looked to see you staring at him. Your mouth was slightly open as you watched him suck on his fingers, suck you off his fingers. He was so beautiful.

"Sweet like sugar," he murmured. He moved his fingers out, a soft 'pop'' sound echoing in the room. Due to your heightened awareness, it sounded like a booming stereo. You were just so hyper fixated on him, and could anyone blame you? He was the love of your life.

With your sweatpants now pooled on the ground, you did as Jihoon asked. He lifted his hips up slightly so you could pull off his own grey sweatpants, allowing them to join yours on the floor. Much to your surprise, Jihoon also went without boxer briefs. His cock, once freed, slapped up against his stomach and stood at attention for you.

"You know, I've missed you just as much, angel." His hands reached out to you, pulling you back into his lap. You straddled him once again. This time, you felt his cock brushing against you which sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. Finally, you had him right where you wanted him most.

Leaning forward, you began pressing tiny kisses along the side of his face. His cheeks heated up at the intimate gesture in such a heated moment. You always wanted to remind Jihoon just how loved he is, all of him.

His thumbs caressed your hipbones as he guided you to hover over his cock. "Give me the go-ahead, y/n, baby. I'm ready whenever you are."

Your hands moved to gently rest on his shoulders. Slowly, you ceased your kisses against his skin to be able to pull back and look down at the place where you two would connect. His pre-cum was coating the tip of his cock, which was throbbing and bright red. Jihoon has always been thicker than other guys you've been with. It made your mouth salivate, want to put him in your mouth and suck him dry. But you couldn't deprive yourself of the feeling of his cock in your pussy.

"Please, baby. Don't want any longer. Let go."

That's all he needed to hear. His hands now gripped your fingers, creating small indents in your flesh. He let you sink down onto his cock, sending the two of you groaning at the sensation of being filled with each other.

Before your hips could get to work on riding him, Jihoon took action first. He began thrusting his hips upwards almost instantaneously. He wanted to make sure that you could feel all of him, every inch. You moaned as he stretched you out in ways your own hands or any sex toy could. It was as if he was made for you.

"Is this what you've missed?" he huffed slightly as one particular thrust filled you completely. It made you choke on air at the feeling of him all the way up nearly by your cervix. Holy fuck.

You nodded your head as your forehead soon rested on his. Your eyelashes rested against your cheeks, lips hovering above his. He noticed how flushed your skin has become as you became overtaken by the pleasure and euphoria.

Jihoon grunted lowly as his hips fell into a fast, steady tempo. Just what you liked. His mind and body felt fuzzy yet electrified as the feeling of your pussy, of your body so close to his.

Your juices were starting to coat his bare thighs. The sound of skin smacking against skin, and how wet you were bounced off the walls. It was the most beautiful symphony.

Jihoon could feel his cock pulsate, the familiar burning in his stomach. He didn't want to end what he felt like was just getting started. But you were right there with him, the feeling almost becoming too much for you. Your stomach was tightening, threatening to spill.

"J-Jihoon," you whimpered out. You felt like it was too soon. You wanted to stay inn this moment as long as possible. It felt like if you released too soon, you would be ruining this beautiful moment.

You weren't even aware of the tears that were glossing your eyes. Jihoon looked directly into your hearts. Cooing lightly at the sight of your eyes, he shook his head. "Don't worry, angel. I'm right here with you. You can let go," he promised you. This time, he was the one pressing kisses into your skin.

Jihoon made sure his hips picked up momentum. He was going deeper and harder. The tip of his cock grazing against your g-spot which sent you spiraling. That's all you need to let go.

One of your hands gripped onto his shoulder. The other rested on the back of his head. Jihoon always loved the feeling of your fingers in his hair. It brought him so much comfort and pleasure.

On one particular thrust, you lost it. You cried out in ecstasy as your vision went white, almost as if you had been catapulted into the stars. Your back arched gently, as Jihoon ensured his arms were wrapped around you to support you.

Jihoon's eyes widened as he felt you squirt. Hard. All over himself, you, and the leather seat beneath the two of you. Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing he's ever witnessed.

Your body began to tremble, burying your face into his shoulder. Your fingernails were running along his scalp as if you were trying to bring yourself down to reality while simultaneously comforting him. For what? He wasn't sure. However, his heart was swelling with love at the sentiment. You always placed him before yourself.

Soft whimpers were leaving your lips as Jihoon was still thrusting. He cooed into your ear, kissing the shell of it gently. "I know, angel. I know. Be patient with me. I'm almost there."

All you could do was nod your head. You tried lifting your hips to help bring Jihoon closer to the edge, but he had it under control. The feeling of your trembling body against his, as well as the memory and evidence of your orgasm clouding his mind, helped bring him to the edge. He let out a loud groan as he thrusted one last time before spilling his cum into you.

Another whimper left your lips. You always loved the feeling of feeling so full of Lee Jihoon, both during and after sex. His white seed painted your walls, but some already spilling and dropping onto the leather seat.

This was the one type of mess Jihoon could tolerate.

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

Jihoon's fingers were typing away at the speed of light. Words that became lyrics that turned into verses flooded his mind. He was trying his hardest to get it all scribbled down, so he could at least give something to the company on Sunday.

"Finally," he spoke under his breath. His voice was deeper, exhaustion evident. He had finally put something together.

And better yet, he could spend tomorrow solely focused on you. He smiled seeing the words on his work computer, ready to be shared and for feedback.

He glanced up at the clock once again. 5:12am. After ensuring the work had been saved to his computer, he was satisfied. Now he could return to his priorities.

Spinning in the chair, he was greeted by the sight of you. You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt Jihoon leaves around. I mean, the man is known to spend days locked away from the rest of the world, so keeping a spare change of clothes was essential to his survival. And much to your happiness, you were able to be wrapped up in clothes that smelled just like him.

The sight of you curled up on the couch, hunkering underneath a blanket made him feel so soft. He felt protective over you, knowing he was the only person who could provide you all the finer things in life but also humbled that you chose him. You just were delicate, the whole universe in his eyes.

"Come on, pretty baby. Let's go home."

507 notes · View notes

planetkiimchi · 4 months ago

Text

send my love | l.jh

featuring: music producer!jihoon x musician!reader, secret relationship

word count: 936 words

summary — jihoon accidentally exposes your relationship with a slip of his tongue… in front of an entire school of students.

author’s note: had sm fun writing this and doing the bonus part <3 inspired by the songwriter that came to my school today!

Jihoon stands backstage, listening to the first few seconds of your song, “breaking down walls”, play. When it stops playing, the chorus of voices doesn’t stop, and he’s shocked to hear the students singing the lyrics to the song the two of you co-wrote together, their voices loud and clear in the multi-purpose hall.

He’d thought it would stop, but he swears only the first 3 seconds of the song were played, yet they sing all the way to the chorus before stopping.

Still in a daze, he barely notices when he’s signalled to go onstage, but he pulls himself together and does exactly that. He’s prepared a presentation for the students, to let them know a little bit more about songwriting and how he came to write songs, and a few tips he has for anyone who might be looking to become a songwriter.

He was invited to speak because your song was a top hit, and the lyrics were about breaking down the barriers of mental illnesses with the help of medication, proper treatment, good relationships and healthy coping strategies.

Mental health is something that he’s struggled with for a while. Every time he feels low, and his mental health is waning, he writes a song about it.

He writes about other things, but his favourites are probably the songs that he writes coming out of a slump caused by executive dysfunction, when he manages to get his life back on track again.

The school he’s visiting is holding activities for mental health week, and this presentation he’s giving is among the last few before they wrap up the week.

Of course, Jihoon mentions you in his presentation, because you’re the singer of “breaking down walls”, a song that the two of you wrote over a series of months, rarely exiting the studio except occasionally to get food. He probably calls you stunning a couple of times—he can’t remember, but he’s always found you the better looking between both of you anyway. You’re also more popular, so he apologises that you can’t be there because you’re busy preparing for your concert the day after.

He was nervous getting onstage to speak to such a large audience, and he can’t say he’s ever been gifted at public speaking, but he thinks he does an okay job. The crowd is relatively quiet, and he hopes the soft buzz is just the students excitedly talking about the content of his presentation.

When he’s finished delivering his points, one of the music teachers that he briefly met backstage comes onstage. Two students bring out two chairs for the two of them to sit, and the Q&A segment starts.

Jihoon feels that this is the part he was most nervous for. Before getting onstage, he wondered what he would say when asked about this song. It’s very close to his heart, and while he’s co-written a different song before, with a different friend, about mental health too, it wasn’t really the same. It’s hard to explain, but the you and his other friend have different styles, and he thinks “breaking down walls” holds a special place in his heart. It’s truly an irreplaceable song.

Because of how important “breaking down walls” is to him, Jihoon finds it difficult to articulate his emotions without feeling extremely overwhelmed, and he’s afraid tears may start flowing if he thinks too much about it.

However, his fears are eased when the teacher begins speaking. The teacher asks Jihoon simple questions like what’s his favourite song he’s written, and one of your songs that he finds criminally underrated.

These are easy to answer; he barely hesitates before launching into a full-blown explanation for his two choices, and he’s bolstered by the cheers of agreement from the students.

Jihoon gets really into it when asked about “breaking down walls”, managing to word his feelings without getting too emotional. After all that worrying, he’s impressed with himself when he manages to phrase it as “writing lyrics from the bottom of his heart, with all of his soul”, expressing his gratitude for all the support the two of you have received for this song.

As the teacher brings the Q&A segment to a close, the students burst into a round of applause. Jihoon thinks you might want to see how much admiration they have for you, so, taking out his phone, he says, “I’ll send Y/n my love—I mean, your love.”

He doesn’t blush, but his palms grow sweaty. He subtly wipes them on his lap before hitting the “record” button on his phone.

”Hey, Y/n. I hope you’re having a good time preparing for the concert. There are some people who’d like to say hi to you.” He smiles, thinking about how you’ll look receiving his message in the middle of rehearsals, hoping he can give you a boost in energy.

He turns the camera around to show the students, who—to their credit—cheer so loudly his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. When he turns it back to himself, Jihoon says, “That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the rehearsals!”

He stops recording, and turns to the students. “I’ll send it to them and let you know. Thank you so much for having me.”

He’s escorted away from the venue with a gift from the school, but all he can think of is the way he slipped up onstage. He still sends the video, but he receives a notification on X first.

Clicking it open, he finds something that makes his face turn pink. He’s glad he slipped up, after all.

—

Bonus (the tweet in question):

327 notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 4 months ago

Text

Strawberry Wine - Part 1

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!

Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.

Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!

one; the author

The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago.

You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras.

Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books.

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.

The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole.

It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you.

For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life?

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her.

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with.

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.

It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to.

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.

Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today.

“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.”

It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.

“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone!

“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“

You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use.

As if life isn’t horrible enough already.

When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh.

“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.

“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!”

“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment.

The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched.

“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.

“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal.

You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed.

Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table.

“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”

He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way?

You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.

“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”

Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help?

It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad.

You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up.

Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him.

When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had.

Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that.

Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun.

Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself.

two; the lost soul

He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself.

The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him.

Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours.

Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there.

Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes.

In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do.

A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk.

Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.

It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest.

Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-

The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”

“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.

“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”

Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”

“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”

When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution.

Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.

The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.

Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.

The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.

Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within.

He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here.

But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real.

So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again.

A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more.

The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon.

Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again.

“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!”

Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click.

“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back.

“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.

“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”

Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.

“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him.

“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”

“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”

“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”

Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.

“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.

“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”

It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter.

“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears.

“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days.

“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.

“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.

“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”

Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm.

He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled.

There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them.

He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow.

A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much.

Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.

This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now.

So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed.

Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out.

Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away.

three; the mix-up

You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are.

Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.

Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start.

The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface.

The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat.

One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.

It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here.

You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks.

Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.

“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”

The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.

“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?”

You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.

“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”

It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile.

Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like.

There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes.

You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do.

When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.

Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two.

Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower.

“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.

“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.

“I should ask you that!”

The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back.

He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist.

“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.

“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes.

“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”

For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big.

You swallow.

“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”

Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.

“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”

While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?

“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it’s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.

“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”

You blink at him.

“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?

Jihoon swallows.

“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”

Telling the truth is probably his best bet.

You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”

Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed.

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save.

A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you.

You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now.

The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.

“What the fuck?!”

Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain.

You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.

“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste.

“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor.

“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps.

This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red.

“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay.

God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun starts but you interrupt him.

“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said.

“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.

“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust.

“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.”

Your grip around the towel tightens.

Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra.

Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise.

“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”

Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck.

“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.

“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”

Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him.

“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”

It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.

“Great. Have fun in Paris then.”

He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”

Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.

“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.

“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra.

It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years.

No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong.

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sweetiesicheng · 3 months ago

Text

woozi - old friends

word count : 1,099

—

a simple gathering of college friends. all of you haven't seen each other in months, some of them you haven't seen since you graduated.

you've always kept to yourself in college, only being pulled into shenanigans by almost everyone else. till this day, you usually keep to yourself at work and everyday life. but being back with everyone makes you remember the fun times.

you hear a door open, "hello! we're here!" you hear seungkwan’s familiar voice announce.

"loud as ever," dokyeom comments while putting his drink down on the table.

"you're no better," one of the girls replies, causing everyone to laugh.

seungkwan walks in with two guys following behind him. "remember these two?" he asks as he walks into the living room.

"joshua, you flew in?" jeonghan asks.

joshua shrugs, "i'm making a trip out of this," he mentions with a smile and places two packs of beer onto the table. "nice to see you guys," he greets everyone.

"woozi's here? when was the last time he was with us?" one of the guys asks.

"seungkwan, how much did you bribe woozi to get him to leave his studio?" one of the girls asks.

"hey, he didn’t bribe me. i leave sometimes," woozi replies and notices you, "hi."

you smile, "hey."

everyone greets the newcomers and they settle into their places in the living room. more food is ordered and everyone has a great time reminiscing with each other.

—

"y/n!" one of your friends calls your name, "what happened to that guy you were talking to? you know, the one with the insane motorcycle?"

you shrug you shoulders, "it didn't go anywhere after awhile."

"aw, come on. y/n, you're literally so pretty. we need to get you a man!" another girl says as she stands up. "i'm grabbing drinks and snacks," she announces before walking into the kitchen.

"i'll come with you," you say and stand up, following your friend into the kitchen. your friend starts opening cabinets, looking for snacks to bring out to everyone. "did you guys really have to mention my love life?" you whisper while grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"don't worry so much. everyone's drinking, and if some of their habits are still the same, they won't remember by tomorrow," your friend replies. she opens another cabinet, "yes! okay, let's go," she says as she grabs two bags of snacks.

"i'll go back in a second," you say to her and take a sip of your beer.

your friend hums in response and leaves the kitchen. you start to clean the kitchen a little bit to help your friend who lives in the apartment. empty cans and bottles are covering the dinner table and counters. once you're done, you lean against a counter and drink some more beer.

"you okay?"

you see woozi walk into the kitchen with an empty soda can. he throws it away and opens the fridge to get a can of soda.

"yea, i'm good," you reply.

woozi nods and opens the soda can, taking a sip right after. "how have you been?" he asks you.

"normal, i guess," you reply with an awkward chuckle. "you?"

"the same. just working," he answers you.

out of everyone, you've known him the longest. you two met in a freshman seminar class, and it turned out he was in the wrong class. makes sense, what was a music major doing in a linguistics lecture? the two of you became friends and met the others along the way.

"still doing the music stuff, huh?" you ask.

he smiles, "yea. it's a lot of work, that's why i don't meet up with them often."

"seungkwan does mention how you're always in your little cave," you reply, both of you chuckling after.

"like i said earlier, i do leave...just not often," he says to you.

—

you eventually rejoin the group, where your friends are still reminiscing over a bunch of things. with more alcohol involved, some people start to get emotional. you had stopped drinking since you needed to make sure you could still drive later.

"y/n!" one of your friends latches onto you. "you're so lovely and pretty. i'm so glad people like you exist in this world," she says to you while reaching over to hug you.

"she's drunk," you say to everyone.

"oh lord. i should take her home," her boyfriend sighs before standing up from the floor.

"i'm not going home! i'm staying with y/n!" your friend whines while hugging you. you pat her back to soothe her.

her boyfriend sighs, "y/n, why does this always happen?" he questions. your friend has a tendency to not want to let go of people, resulting in whoever it is to have to go home with her and her boyfriend to get her to sleep.

"it's amazing. she won't attach to her own boyfriend," seungkwan observes.

"yea, at this point, i should be dating her," you say and stand up with your friend attached to you. "come on, time to go home."

"need help?" woozi asks. "i can drive your car over to their place," he offers to you.

"yea, that'd be great. i don't want to uber back," you reply.

—

"alright, time to get you to bed," you say as you help your friend into her apartment.

"y/n, i love you~"

"hey, what about me?" her boyfriend pouts while opening the door to the bedroom. "i got her," he says and brings her into the room. you watch him bring her to the bed.

"is she okay?" you turn around and see woozi standing by the front door.

"she'll be fine," you reply. "hey, we're gonna go. see you guys soon," you say to your friend.

"yea, see you guys. get home safe," he says to you.

—

after bringing your friend back, you drive woozi to his apartment.

"this is it, right?" you ask, parked in front of his apartment building.

woozi smiles, "yea." he opens the door and gets out, but he doesn't close the door right away. "y/n,” he calls your name.

"hm?"

"it was really nice to see you again," he admits to you. "i'm really happy."

you smile at him, "i'm glad i got to see you again too, woozi."

"text me," he says before closing the door. you watch him wave and walk into his apartment building, making sure he went in safely.

before driving off, you take your phone and send him a text with a simple smiley face. a few seconds later, you get one back.

117 notes · View notes

all-about-kyu · 10 months ago

Text

Summary: You've always pushed his buttons. What's the harm of pushing them a little more? Pairing: Park Jihoon (Treasure) x fem!reader Tropes: biker/badboy au Genre: Smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: piercings, language Smut Warnings: genital piercing, nipple piercings, tongue piercing, dirty talk, praise, degradation, sir kink, spit kink, oral (m receive), mentions of oral (f receive), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, clitoral stimulation, creampie Word Count: 1,785 Note: Happy birthday to my irl bestie @minjaeluver I wanted this to be much longer, but we both know we suffer in academia right now. A huge thank you to @anyamaris for the song assistance and @wooahaeproductions for the title help

BEFORE YOU INTERACT

Listen to ♡ Mmm by Treasure

“What’re you up to, pretty?” Jihoon calls from his place, leaning against the wall.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You scoff, “I’m minding my business, unlike some people.”

Jihoon smirks while looking away for a moment. He pushes off the wall and approaches you. He stands a mere foot from you. His eyes were transfixed on you the entire time. You’ve always pushed his buttons with no repercussions in the past. You never expected it to bite you in the ass. Seeing him so close to you makes your heart beat through your chest. He leans forward to intensify the situation so his face is barely separated from yours. You can feel his breath puffing against your face. His dark brown eyes bore into you.

“Jihoon…” you trail off, looking away for a moment.

He reaches a hand up to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His dark-painted nails have always driven you a bit crazy, not that you would ever admit it. He forces you to look at him.

“Look at me.” He commands, “I need your undivided attention for what I’m about to tell you.”

All you can muster is a weak nod in his hold.

“If you agree, we’re taking my bike back to my place, and I’m going to fuck the attitude right out of you.” He gives you a closed-lipped smile.

“And if I don’t?” “We move on as if this conversation never happened.”

The next few moments are a whirlwind. Suddenly, Jihoon’s lips are pressed against yours in a heated kiss. That’s when you feel a warm metal ball rolling across your lower lip. You gasp against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He drops his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him.

“That’s not my only surprise for you, baby.” He practically growls.

“You just gonna talk about it, or will you show me?” You tease back.

“Watch it, slut. You’re going to eat your words.”

You chuckle against his lips, “I’d like to see you try.”

Next thing you know, you’re being dragged into his apartment. You barely get a moment to breathe before he practically throws you into the wall beside the door and pins you there. One hand is tangled in a vice grip through your hair while the other holds your hip against the wall. In all honesty, you had been lightly teasing him the entire ride here. Small touches brushed over his growing bulge, little kisses along his throat, even trailing your hands up and down his abdomen and tracing the grooves of his muscles whenever you had the chance to loosen your hold around him.

“You just can’t behave, can you?”

You smirk at him instead of responding.

“You answer me when I ask you a question, understood?” His grip on your hair tightens, eliciting a whimper from you, “Understood? Or are you that brainless already… I haven’t even properly touched you yet, pretty little whore.”

“I- I understand.” You gasp when he presses against your hip harder, “I understand, Sir.”

“There’s my good girl.”

You nearly melt at the praising comment. You don’t get very long to revel in it, though. He pulls you off of the wall and throws you over his shoulder. His hand is secure across the back of your thighs. The only view you have is of his lower body and the floor as he carries you down the hall to where you assume his room is. You’re thrown down onto a mattress and are met with the sight of Jihoon smirking at you.

“I told you I’d fuck the attitude out of you. I’m a man of my word, doll.”

He reaches to pull his shirt off of his body. The first thing in view is the tattoo on his hip. It’s a harsh, dark pistol pointed downward. You’ve seen a peek of it before when he occasionally stretches, but to see it in full now is enough to have a flood between your legs. As his shirt rises higher, you are stunned by a set of pretty silver bars running through his nipples. Earlier, when he mentioned more surprises for you, you hadn’t expected more piercings. The fact that they’re there has your mind diving off the deep end for the potential for more. He drops the shirt to the ground, leaving it an issue for later.

Sitting up, you try to reach toward him to place your hands against his abdomen and commit each grove and detail to memory. He doesn’t allow you that luxury. He catches your wrist midair and pins you back down to the bed with your arm above your head. He brings his other hand to your free hand and puts it into his already occupied hand.

“You’re a curious thing, aren’t you?” He smirks, letting his tongue come out slightly afterward, “When I let you go, you’re going to take every damn piece of clothing off your body.”

You find your voice finally, “And if I don’t listen?” “Would you rather I cut it off of you?” He challenges.

As tempting as the idea is, you’d rather not lose clothing today. You buttoned your lips together, and without a word spoken, Jihoon knows you’ve agreed to his terms. Releasing you, he watches with a calculated, heated stare as you strip. Soon enough, you’re bare before him. With a jerk of his chin, he commands you to sit down on his bed again. Jihoon starts moving toward you again while undoing his pants. Your thighs rub together in anticipation, earning a low teasing chuckle from the other.

When his pants drop to the ground with his underwear, you swear your soul leaves your body. Another pretty piercing is displayed. Through his tip, you see two silver metal balls. Before you can even process it fully, you find yourself scrambling to the floor and suckling on his tip. Rolling your tongue around each end of the piercing, you hold eye contact with him. He has his staple smirk on his lips as he watches you have your fun. His painted fingers thread through your hair, almost gently compared to what they were doing mere moments ago.

“You’re already cock drunk.” He teases, “It’s fucking pathetic, you know that?”

“I’m not-”

Your words get cut off by him forcing his entire length down your throat. A low growl escapes his throat. His hair falls in his face as he bows his head forward. His smirk grows wider on his face when he sees small tears springing from the corners of your eyes. You swallow around him, feeling the warm metal near the back of your throat as you do so. He holds you there for a while; the lack of air starts to get to you, and the tears brimming in your eyes finally drop down your cheeks.

“So fucking pathetic. It’s cute.” He coos, “You ready to not talk back now?”

You nod to the best of your ability. He finally pulls his cock from your mouth. A shiny strand of spit connects your lips to the tip of his cock, only snapping when he pulls your head back by your hair.

“Open your mouth, my sweet little whore.”

Your mouth opens wider without a second thought. He chuckles at you before spitting into your mouth. You shudder out of pure desire for the man above you. He uses his other hand to tap your chin to close your mouth. You swallow his spit and loll your tongue out after to show him you followed his silent command. His hands let go of your hair to lean down and wrap both his arms around your waist.

He tosses you back on the bed and starts to rub the tip of his cock between your pussy lips. The wet sounds that come from the action are beyond pornographic. Before you can beg, he pushes into you in one smooth motion. The feeling of his cock alone makes your eyes roll back. The added sensation of his cock piercing makes you want nothing more than to fall apart then and there.

“Such a good fucking slut. Taking my cock like you were made for it.”

“Jihoon-” you gasp, “Please, I need–”

“You want me to fuck you like the good little cocksleeve you are? Maybe you should address me properly before I treat you nicely.”

He pulls out until only his tip rests inside you. Slamming back in, you let out a loud, shameless moan. The piercing drags perfectly against each spot inside you. You throw your arms around his shoulders and dig your nails into the toned muscles. You know, small crescent shapes are going to be engraved in his skin for at least the next day or so. He drills into you at an animalistic pace.

Eventually, he lays his chest against yours, and his nipple piercing presses against your breasts, adding just enough to add extra stimulation. His kisses up and down your throat, leaving red and purple marks to bloom after each one.

“You’re practically trapping me in your soaked cunt.” He laughs airily, “Like you’re trying to keep me stuck in here.”

“Sir–” You moan.

“There we go.” He praises, “What does my pretty little whore want?”

“Cum– please–”

Not a single coherent word can formulate in your mind anymore. Between the drag of his pierced cock, the stimulation of his nipple bars against your breasts, and the feeling of his tongue ringing against your throat with each kiss, there’s no way you are able to think. His fingers slip between your bodies and rub tight circles against your clit. Your legs wrap tight around his waist, trying to hold back your orgasm.

“Sir, please!” You practically cry.

“Cum.” He groans against your throat, “I’m close too.”

You shake below him as your orgasm tears through you. You orgasm for what could be two seconds or two minutes. All you know is that you’ve never cum that hard before. To add to your intense reaction, you feel Jihoon release inside you. His hot cum floods your pussy, making you whimper at the feeling. He gives a few shallow, slow thrusts as he rides out his high while you come down from your own.

“Have we learned not to test me anymore?” He questions, pulling out of you slowly.

His cum starts to drip out of your abused cunt.

“I don’t know. I might need to test you more often now.” You tease.

“Watch it. I might keep you locked up in here for the next week.”

“Seem’s fine to me.”

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

#park jihoon smut #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #treasure fanfic #treasure x reader #treasure smut #jihoon fanfic #park jihoon fanfic #jihoon x reader #park jihoon x reader #jihoon smut

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

NO SONG WITHOUT YOU

18+ / mdi

summary: with zero experience or interest in the romantic aspect of his life, jihoon finds himself in an unexpected situation when his company decides on a collab between the two of you, not expecting the work-addicted producer to develop a bit of a crush on you.

content: idol!jihoon x idol!reader, afab reader, pining, jihoon's emotionally constipated, jihoon's pov, kinda inexperienced jihoon, smut, dry humping, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.6k

a/n: this is probably my fave fic i've written so far!! love writing for jihoon aaaa anyways i hope u guys enjoy <3

masterlist

Jihoon was tired.

Beyond tired, actually. He couldn't remember the last time he'd left his studio at a reasonable time. He knew people on twitter made jokes about him being a bit of a hermit, with fans being able to spot his studio from outside the building, lights always on and indicating the producer was still inside.

He didn't have much of a valid excuse for this, other than being a 'workaholic', or at least that's the term Joshua had recently introduced him to, describing him as the prime example. Jihoon just couldn't help himself. He'd been like this ever since he could remember. If he had an idea, he had to work on it. And unfortunately for him, he was always full of new ideas. If Seventeen was releasing an album, that meant Jihoon already had enough material to fill up the next three albums backed up in a file somewhere in his computer.

Despite always having music prepared months in advance, - even having solo music up for grabs for whichever member desired it - he still found himself constantly working. It's not like anyone demanded this out of him either. It was quite the opposite, actually. From staff, to other producers, to members and even family, everyone always insisted that he took a break, maybe leave producing aside for a month or two. This was inconceivable to him, it was something that was simply out of his comfort zone.

The truth was, Jihoon felt lost. Any time he strayed away from work in some way or other, he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like a failure in many other aspects of his life. Granted, he was a successful idol and producer, talented in every area necessary in his field, but past that, what did he really have to offer? He'd been stuck in a rut for a few years now. He had his members, his family, maybe some staff, but his social life didn't go much past that. He didn't have many hobbies outside of work either. Sure, he was avid when exercising, even being an overachiever in that area, but that was also kind of part of his job. He knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone at some point and live his life, but he kept making excuses for himself. He was 26 now, and was, quite frankly, beginning to lose hope in certain areas of his life due to his career, - although blaming his career was just an excuse, really - the romantic aspect of his life being one of them.

Jihoon had some experience, okay? It wasn't like he'd never liked a girl before. He'd had a few crushes in elementary, maybe even some up until high school. He'd kissed one of the female trainees back when Pledis was a smaller company (okay, it might've been on a dare, but to Jihoon it counted). A few years after debuting he'd even gone on a few dates with a former staff member from his company. He'd lost his virginity to that same girl, kind of rushing into it due to feeling pressured to just get it over with - something he didn't exactly regret, but wished had been more of a memorable moment. The point was, Jihoon had had a few romantic experiences in his past 26 years on this earth. But, he hadn't ever even gotten close to find that one great love he'd hoped he one day would. For someone who received constant accolades for his lyricism, he was never really able to relate to his own music. He'd never been heartbroken, never had an insane need for someone, never felt romantic love, never been in the throes of passion with a beautiful girl, even. It was all his imagination. His lyrics, that is. And maybe the rest, if he was being honest. He'd dreamt about it lately; the perfect girl who he'd find and sweep off her feet. But that was all it was, a dream.

So, Jihoon was tired. Tired of hauling himself up in his studio to make himself feel something. But that was where he now found himself; stuck and in a rut, hoping for something more.

He was once again in his studio, working on god knows what at this point. He had just finished a quick welive with carats, feeling like he'd accomplished his quota of socialization for the day (I mean, even if it was a one-way conversation, it still counted, right?) and decided to get to work on one of the many unfinished drafts in his hard drive. This was kind of routine by now. He would either get a quick meal with one of the members during their break from rehearsals, or would go back to his studio for a bit to work on music. This would've been fine and dandy if it wasn't for the fact that Jihoon would eventually have ended up right back at his stuido either way. It was the illusion of choice, truly.

He spent a few hours in there, messing around with his guitar and even working on some guides for the members to follow next time they had some time to stop by the Universe Factory. Today felt like a productive day for Jihoon. Granted, he did this literally every single day, but he hadn't felt stuck at any point today. Maybe he was on a lucky streak. He decided to cut the day short there, not wanting to ruin what had been arguably an uninterrupted day of working on music. However, his separation from his studio did not last long, as he received a call from his manager just as he was locking the door behind him. He picked up without much thought.

"What's up?"

"Hey? Jihoon-ah, are you still in the studio by any chance?", Jihoon almost vocalized his amusement at the question. Where else would he be?

"I was just locking up, but yeah, I'm here."

"Good! Stay right there! Gonna head up to talk to you for a bit," and with that he hung up, not leaving Jihoon any chance to respond.

Jihoon and his manager were quite close. This was the case with most idols and their managers, having to spend so much time together. Still, Jihoon found the interaction to be a bit odd. Usually his manager would be one of the many people to insist that Jihoon get his ass out of his studio every once in a while. He didn't mind his request, though, so he quickly reopened the door and sat himself back down on his chair, deciding to mess with a few things as he waited for his manager's arrival.

It took his manager about ten minutes to arrive, Hybe was quite a big building, after all. He knocked on his door, not knowing the access code to Jihoon's studio. The only people who knew his key code were Jihoon himself, and Soonyoung (who had learned it without Jihoon's knowledge, but he was too lazy to change it by now). He got up to open the door, simply expecting another one of his manager's short overviews of Jihoon's schedule for the week, which might've been correct, except that when he opened the door he was met with his manager accompanied by an unfamiliar face.

It was you. Jihoon didn't know exactly who you were, but you carried a familiar air to you. He hadn't really been interacting with many people as of late, so maybe you were just someone he'd seen in passing, he wasn't too sure. You and his manager walked in upon Jihoon's gesture to please come in, moving aside as to not be in your way. He closed the door behind you, accidentally closing the distance between the two of you for a second and becoming a bit flustered at the proximity. He wasn't sure why his manager would bring someone unknown into his studio, but if Jihoon was anything, he was a relaxed guy (or at least he tried to seem like it), so he just sat back down without making any questions, his manager would probably fill him in any moment now anyways.

"Okay, so this is Y/N! You've probably met before, right?"

Uh, not right. And now a little awkward. Was he supposed to lie?

"Oh! No, we haven't, actually. I know a few of his members, though, but this is our first time officially meeting," you spoke up for the first time. So you were friends with his members? That might be how he knew you. That didn't really narrow it down much, though. There were 12 of them, and Seungkwan alone was friends with practically the entire industry.

"Oh? My bad. Well, then I should introduce you, right? Jihoon, this is Y/N! Her group was just recently acquired by Hybe. They moved into the building just over a month ago, if I'm not mistaken," He turned to you as you nodded in affirmation before proceeding, "Y/N, this is Jihoon, producer and partial leader of Seventeen."

He wasn't too sure why he was introducing the two of you. If he got personally introduced to every group Hybe acquired in the past year, he'd probably be here all day. He'd stopped keeping track of who and which groups were now roaming the hallways, being too many for him to count. He wasn't complaining or anything, he was just confused as to why go out of his way.

"Woozi-nim. It's so nice to meet you! I've always been such a huge fan. Your work is .. it's insane. I've looked forward to meeting you for so long," the enthusiasm with which you said this made his lip quirk up a little. Sure, he received accolades on his work every day, but knowing that fellow juniors of his looked up to him always brought a smile to his face, although it still made him a little sheepish at receiving such a forward compliment.

"Oh, I- Thank you. And you can call me Jihoon. It's nice to meet you, too," he smiled shyly at you, not really knowing what to say past that. He felt a bit shy looking at you for some reason, as if he couldn't hold eye contact for too long or he'd burn.

He looked expectantly over at his manager, the instigator of this interaction.

"Oh! Right. Well, as I just said, Y/N's group just moved into the company. And the company's been pushing for some collaborations as of late, you know, in order to maximize all groups within Hybe all at once," Jihoon could kind of see where his manager was going with this, "So, I've brought Y/N along with me since you two will be working together for a feature."

Hold on. Rewind.

"Us? As in just us two?"

"Yeah. Hybe is dividing you guys into subdivisions. Mingyu will be collaborating with someone in BTS a few months from now, and Chan will be with Yeonjun from TXT. I think Seokmin is scheduled with a member of Lesserafim. Not too sure yet, but you're up first. I sent you an email about it a few days ago with the general idea. Did you not get it?"

Oh, right. Jihoon was always quite diligent about his work, but his work mostly entailed Seventeen only. Checking his email wasn't much of a habit of his when he could just call up the few producers that worked for Seventeen whenever he needed to. Collaborations and producer work for other people were not that common to him, so for the most part he would disregard anything that didn't entail his own group.

"Oh, I, uh. No, sorry," he felt slightly bad at having disregarded the person standing in front of him, specially when you had regarded him such such respect. He was giving off a terrible first impression.

"That's fine. Now you know. Well, just wanted to take advantage that you were here today - Hah, well, when aren't you here?", chuckled his manager before continuing, "Just wanted to introduce you just in case. Check the email I sent you when you can, I'll send you over more details of your schedule related to the feature first thing tomorrow, yeah? Y/N here is the main producer for her group too, so you'll be co-producing."

You produced? He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but there were just so many groups who didn't make their own music. He could sometimes get a bit of an ego over knowing he was an anomaly in his industry, always having taken pivotal part in a good 90% of his group's discography. Still, he wasn't too happy about the concept of having to share the creative process with a producer he had never heard of, if he was quite honest. For the most part he would only work with Bumzu and a few other Hybe producers here and there. He didn't even know your group or the music you were credited for. Hell, he had only found out about this project two minutes ago, having had no voice in the matter. One of the down sides of joining such a huge company that fathered way too many groups at once, he guessed.

He decided to not show his slight discomfort towards the idea, simply offering a polite response before bidding his goodbyes to the two of you. You had stayed behind for a few extra seconds after his manager exited the room, once more voicing your admiration for Jihoon and letting him know you were looking forward to working together. Jihoon had to admit that your praise did something to him. He didn't mean to sound like a total loser when he said this, but he did not interact with girls too much. So receiving such direct praise on his music from a pretty girl who also happened to share a passion with him had his ears turning red. He quickly shook his head at the thought, deciding to just stay at the studio overnight once more and maybe finally go over the email his manager had sent him.

He had to admit, he was quite impressed. Shortly after your arrival he had decided to research you and your group. You were quite well known by then, having debuted the same year as Seventeen and now being one of the top girl groups in the game. Just like Jihoon, you were from a small company and had climbed your way up, eventually being acquired by Hybe just a few months prior. Your stories were quite similar, if he really thought about it. You had also taught yourself how to produce before debuting, taking on the official role of main producer upon making your debut.

He had found out an embarrassing amount of information about you very quickly. He couldn't help himself. He was immediately intrigued by you, even going as far as looking at online forums about you; places that would detail information about you that only a true fanatic would know. He was now privy to trivial information such as your birth year (one year after his), your favorite color (pink), how many moles you had (seven, total), when you joined your company (exactly two months before he joined pledis), your most popular fancam (the one were you wore that pretty purple top), and just general information he'd be embarrassed to relay he now had memorized. He could call himself a bit ... infatuated. He felt beyond creepy, despite all this being public information. He had just met you, why had he just spent the past three hours binging content about you?

Jihoon decided to shrug these thoughts away, instead opting to mentally prepare himself for tomorrow morning, which was apparently the first day in which you'd be meeting to talk over your future schedules together for the next month or so. He had finally checked the multiple emails his manager had sent him about the collaboration, realizing that he'd now have to spend most of his non-Seventeen allocated time with you.

From photoshoots for promo, to the actual producing of the song, the empty slots in his schedules seemed to have filled up on their own, now being occupied by your company, and much to his surprise, he was not annoyed at this sudden intrusion. He felt a weird feeling in his stomach, but it wasn't like the usual nerves he felt before going on an important stage, nor the grumbling he felt whenever he met an idol of his. He felt ... giddy? He was looking forward to it. He felt nervous to see you again, which was really strange considering that he felt completely normal upon meeting you just now. Yeah, you were very pretty (he had eyes, this was just a fact he couldn't deny), but he hadn't had much of a reaction to it. However, now, as he looked at pictures of you on his computer, he couldn't imagine holding eye contact again. He was going mad.

Tomorrow arrived sooner than he thought. Now he was now sitting in his studio, awaiting your arrival. He had impulsively tidied up the place, now embarrassed that you'd seen it a mess the day prior. He also tidied himself up. As he recalled, you were wearing a pretty dress yesterday, so he felt bad you'd caught him in sweats and a three-day-old shirt. He wasn't sure why he wanted to impress you, but he did. Jihoon had the hope of at least befriending you, now having formed some type of interest towards you.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, making his heart accelerate at the thought of who was on the other side of it. Upon unlocking it, he found you on the other side, smile on your face as you carried in some bowls of .. his favorite meal? into his studio.

"Hi, Woozi-nim! I brought you food, is that's okay? I asked Seungkwan what you liked," oh, so it was Kwannie you were friends with. That made sense. It was touching that you'd gone out of your way to get him something you knew he'd like. Now he felt bad at being empty handed in his own studio.

"Oh, I- Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"It's no problem! Wanted to thank you for doing this. I know you don't do collaborations that often. Felt kinda bad about imposing," by now the two of you had sat down in front of his desk, chairs slightly too close for comfort as you unwrapped the food in the bags you'd brought in.

"You-you're not. Sorry if I made it seem that way yesterday, hah, I was just caught off guard."

Jesus Christ, he felt so awkward. Your close proximity had him at a loss. He didn't know where to look or what to say. Your perfume was also not helping matters. The pretty scent had him extremely distracted, his mind suddenly being flooded with the thought that, shit, everything about you was pretty. What was wrong with him? Was this his first time interacting with a woman? He had never felt more out of place, except that despite any improper feelings he felt, he still wanted to be in your vicinity.

"-Woozi-nim?"

Shit, had you been talking this whole time?

"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

You chuckled at him, clearly not taking offense to his distracted nature, "I was just asking if you had any drafts you wanted to use as a baseline? Or we could use one of my unused drafts? It's whatever you prefer, really. I'd love to work with something of yours, though. I love your style, it's so ... hah, I don't know. It's just so you."

Jihoon thanked god he had not cut his hair as some carats had begged, because now the length allowed him to cover the red of his ears. A single compliment from you had him heating up, clammy hands getting even clammier at the thought of you using his talent as a compliment. If you wanted to use his music, there was just no way for him to deny you. He wanted to hear more of your praise to him.

"Y-yeah? I have uh, a few that I could show you. They're just drafts, but you know."

You visibly perked up at this, scooting even closer to him as he began to fiddle with his computer, opening up some files to show you. Your excitement at his work had him swooning internally. The amount of interest you'd been showing since meeting yesterday was already getting the better of him.

"Woozi-nim, holy shit. These are hundreds of files. Are these all unfinished?"

"Uh, yeah. I uh, tend to have a few drafts saved for future projects."

"I get that. Me too, but these have to be over 300 unfinished songs," you were in clear shock (perhaps admiration?) of the endless tracks in front of you. Jihoon wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed at having so much unfinished work (which made bit feel like a bit of a loser), or be proud since you seemed to be impressed at the vast number.

"I like to be prepared. You know, just in case."

"It's .. wow. I knew you were good, but this is insane, Woozi-nim."

"I, you can call me Jihoon," he didn't really care much for the distinction between Woozi and Jihoon at this point; he was pretty used to both. But a part of him just wanted to hear you call him by his real name; the one only those close to him really used. He also wanted an out from the conversation, feeling too flustered at your compliments.

You chuckled, nodding at him, "Okay, Jihoon. Sorry, didn't really know what name to go for at first."

"No, it-it's fine. I'm only a year older. You can speak comfortably."

The rest of the conversation was filled with technicalities about the collaboration. Now that you two had established a, let's say, closer acquaintance, you were able to discuss your ideas more comfortably. Jihoon still had to put up with the endless compliments about his work as you two went through possible tracks for the song, but he tried his best to take them like a champ, simply chuckling shyly and shrugging them off. Your genuine admiration for his skill had him reeling inside, enamored with the tone of your voice any time you'd express excitement at hearing exclusive Universe Factory content. He hadn't felt butterflies in his stomach like this in, well, ever. He felt like he was a high school student with a silly crush.

The disappointment in his face as you parted ways must've been clear (which made him embarrassed beyond belief), as you pulled out your phone and asked him to put his contact in, letting him know you'd be seeing him soon. The possession of your contact info made him excited. He knew it was probably just for work purposes, but he held a stupid hope in the back of his head that you'd given it to him because you had interest in meeting again soon.

And you did see each other soon, consistently meeting in order to work on the song. A few of the times you were joined by Bumzu (who was also helping out with the song), or Soonyoung (who was just a nosy bastard who wouldn't leave Jihoon's studio), which made him curse out his two friends, wanting you all to himself. His crush had developed quickly after that second meeting. You were now all he thought about. Every morning when he got ready to start his day, he wondered which shirt you'd like him best in. Would you like if he trimmed his hair or did you like it long? What did you like in guys? (Except had already gone on incognito mode on his phone to search your ideal type, growing instantly embarrassed and exiting out of the tab). He thought of you as he exercised, wondering if you'd like his muscles and physique. His entire existence was surrounded by thoughts of you. And he hoped maybe he was also in your mind.

The first time he saw you outside his studio walls was at the Hybe gym as he worked out with Mingyu, Soonyoung and Joshua. He almost lost hold on the dumbbells in his hands upon spotting you, tight leggings and cropped shirt adorning your body. He had seen you in less clothing before (Only ever through a screen, in all the pretty concept photos your group had done, or in the occasional fancam he'd come across), but seeing your silhouette in the flesh had all thoughts leaving his mind. He felt ashamed at his way of thinking. He didn't want to objectify you like that, but the thoughts of your beauty had not left his mind for two weeks now, since the day he first met you.

But his eyes couldn't be helped, glued to your form as you walked into the place, paying extra attention to the parts that stood out most for him. He was like a depraved monster, his breath getting ragged as he watched you move around, licking his lips and sighing at every small movement you made. God, what was happening to him? Why was he so immediately aroused? Luckily, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a cough from a very annoying Kim Mingyu, who had just been spotting him before his abrupt stop.

"Hyung .. You're too obvious."

"Wha-what are you talking about?", he did not like the smirk attached to Mingyu's face, nor the matching mocking smile in Soonyoung and Joshua's.

"You should see him when she's sitting in his studio. It's sad to watch," snickered the fellow 96-liner.

"Oh? She's the girl? Damn, hyung. She's really pretty."

"It's not- there's no girl. We're just working together," his feelings were already complicated enough, he didn't need the involvement of his members' teasing.

"C'mon, Hyung! It's okay if you like her. She's pretty, she's an idol-producer. She's perfect for you. I think you should go for it," encouraged Mingyu, in his optimistic Mingyu-fashion.

"Yeah, I mean. You were just about to cum in your pants at just seeing her in some leggings. I don't think you have anything to lose if you're already at the point of public indecency."

Yeah, this was exactly why he wanted to keep them as far away as possible.

"Soonyoung, I swear to g-"

"Jihoon? Oh my god, hi! I didn't realize you were here," it was you, now at a closer proximity and a slight sheen of sweat attached to your skin. Had Jihoon not been snapped out of his trance earlier, he probably would've been salivating by now.

"Oh. Hi Y/N. How are you?", he felt like he was being scrutinized for his every word and move by his members, which made him feel extremely awkward (more than usual).

"Good! I didn't know you used the company gym. I'd never seen you here before. You should've told me. We could've come together," you smiled before turning to his friends, "Hi! I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!"

Soonyoung made a show of stretching his hand out to you, bowing way too low for such a casual setting (probably just to peeve Jihoon). He was followed by Joshua, who held onto your hand in a way that had Jihoon fuming to himself.

"Hello, Y/N. I think we might've met before. You're Kwannie's friend, right?"

"Oh, right! Yeah, I've been to your guys' practice room before, but Jihoon didn't recognize me when we first met, so I wanted to re-introduce myself just in case," you giggled in Jihoon's direction.

"Don't mind him. That's just Jihoon. He's too distracted for his own good. I'm Kim Mingyu, by the way," the youngest shot you a flirtatious smile.

He needed all of them to keep the flirting as toned down as humanly possible. Although jealousy was not an emotion he felt often, the thought of his best friends even looking at you had his ears turning red in anger. But in very expected fashion, they all continued to take turns flirting with you for the next twenty minutes, completely shrugging off any intention of working out they might've had before having spotted you. Luckily (and surprisingly) for him, you were not reciprocating the flirting, nor where your eyes ever off of Jihoon for too long, always including him in your responses to his members one way or another.

You were somehow immune to the charms of Kwon Soonyoung, which, yeah, Jihoon didn't blame you for. You were also unaffected by Jisoo, which was a little more rare from Jihoon's experience. What shocked him most, though, was that your eyes still stayed on him even while one Kim Mingyu blatantly flirted with you. He'd known one too many girls who had fallen victim to his flirting (whether it be intentional or not), and to see you fully shrug him off in favor of looking to Jihoon instead had his heart going at an inhuman speed.

The interaction ended not too much time later, leaving Jihoon's ears red, but now from embarrassment at his friends slyly suggesting his interest at you multiple times throughout the conversation. Despite them being subtle about it, he was still mortified, specially when by the end of it, they'd pushed him to walk you back to your practice room while they wandered off on their own.

"I'm so sorry about them. They can be a bit much."

"It's fine, Jihoon. Don't worry about it. They were really fun. I can see how you're all so close."

"Ah, yeah. You know how it is .. Uh, sorry they kept hitting on you like that,"

he knew he was a bit of an idiot for bringing it up, but he wanted to gauge your feelings on it. He needed to know if he at least held a chance against his members or if you'd just been being nice by not reciprocating in front of him.

You chuckled as you responded, "I know they weren't being serious about it, Jihoon. Don't sweat it. It's not them I'm interested in anyways."

Oh, great. That was good to hear .. Wait. What?

"W-What?l"

"Oh. We're here. This is my group's practice room. Sorry I made you walk all the way here, I know your practice room is like five floors up," you apologized sheepishly, completely disregarding what you'd just said.

"I-it's fine. I'll see you on Thursday, then?"

"Thursday? We have a shoot tomorrow, Jihoon. Remember? We need a jacket shoot for the collab. It was on the schedule."

Oh, fuck. He had completely blanked on that. You guys were almost done recording the finishing touches to the song, but he forgot you guys also needed to do the shoot for the promo and learn the choreo as soon as you gave the choreographers the finalized version for the single. There was still so much to be done, which only meant even more time spent with you.

"Yeah, right. Sorry, hah, completely spaced out on that. I'll see you tomo-"

"Come pick me up?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, stop by my practice room so we can walk together? Is that okay?"

Did you- did you want to spend even more time with him? He wasn't complaining. He wanted all his time to be consumed by you, but .. was the feeling mutual?

"Yes," he paused, realizing his answer had been too short and mechanical, "I mean, yeah, sure, I don't mind. I'll see you here tomorrow morning."

You giggled at him before bidding your goodbye once more, but this time offering him a quick side hug before disappearing through the door to your practice room. Jihoon was glad you were gone, because this time it wasn't just his ears that were red, but his whole face had begun to resemble a tomato.

It was time to admit to himself that he was down bad tremendously for you.

Jihoon had not at any moment stopped to wonder what type of vibe the collaboration was meant to follow. Yeah, he was working on the song (which was almost finalized by now), so he knew it was pretty much a pop-rock-ish vibe that they were going for, but he didn't know what the rest of the equation would look like, which was something he wished he'd prepared a bit better for.

He had walked you over this morning, even being enticed by Seungkwan into bringing you your favorite drink as a nice gesture (which worked perfectly, as it won him over yet another side hug). The two of you arrived to the designated area for photoshoots located in one of the lower floors of the Hybe building, then went your separate ways to head over to hair and makeup in order to get your outfits situated. He had to admit he liked his outfit. It was a little more provocative than usual, with it being mostly black leather and the top being unbuttoned enough to show off most of his abdomen. It was your outfit, however, that had him reeling.

Nothing could have prepared him for the moment he stepped out and spotted you doing a few solo shots in preparation, your outfit and makeup already perfectly in place. He had no words to express how he felt upon seeing you. You looked so ... gorgeous. Unsure of how to react at the sight in front of him, he stood there staring, almost as if he'd seen an apparition. It wasn't until one of the photographers called him over that he managed to regain sense of self and join you.

The entirety of the photoshoot was absolute hell for Jihoon. This was the closest he'd ever been to you (sans the now two quick side hugs you'd given him in the past day). The shoot was a bit .. sensual in nature. The first set of outfits were edgier, so the shoot was the basic scenario you'd picture for a punk-rock pictorial. The second set of outfits had been the issue, because they went in the complete opposite direction. You were in a beaten down motel room setting, wearing very simple outfits, although they were both very skimpy and thin, almost as if to signify the simplicity of the concept. You two posed together on the bed, with your poses getting more and more intimate by the minute. At some point he had been directed to embrace you as he looked into your lips, with the proximity being way too close for comfort (or at least that's what he tried to tell himself). At another point he was kneeling on the bed as he looked up at you, your eyes simulating lust as you looked down on him, hand on his chin, lifting his gaze to yours.

The shoot had been an experience, to say the least. Jihoon wasn't sure how he survived it without breaking. He thanked the gods for the years of preparation with all types of shoots he'd done with the members over the years. However, completion of the shoot did not mean he was unaffected. He had no idea how he'd get the image of your lips so close to his out of his mind. Despite knowing it'd all been professional and strictly fake, he could've sworn he felt something every time your eyes would meet when at such a close distance. He wanted it to be real so badly, but once again he chalked it up to being wishful thinking. At least the worst of it was over, and he could now get back to sitting next to you in his studio at a respectable distance.

Jihoon had been an idiot to ever believe that the shoot had been the worst of it.

It had now been a week since the dreaded photoshoot (The one that had him up at night imagining what it would've been like if he had just closed the gap between your lips, damning anyone else in the room), and now it had been a few days since the song had finally been completed. He had thoroughly enjoyed co-producing with you, geeking at your ability to compliment each other perfectly. Your voice was yet another thing he had fallen in love with during the process, fully enamored by every single take you did. It had actually slowed down the process, as Jihoon green-lit every single one of your takes due to the rose-colored glasses that prevented him from catching mistakes you swore you'd committed during a few of the takes. You seemed to be similar, however, as you continued to shower him in compliments (even at the shoot, where you had complimented him with his hard work at the gym - a moment he chose to disregard or else he would've lost his mind at the implications), refusing to admit any faults of his while recording.

Now, however, he found himself in very difficult and unchartered waters. Any other time in which he'd produced a song, he'd never been involved further than that. He'd done duo shoots before, with women at that, but what he'd never done was share a choreography with someone who wasn't a member of Seventeen. He had danced with women before, of course, even having participated in more sensual dances, but this felt different. All previous times had been with nameless backup dancers he had never known too well. This was you. He now had to work through an entire choreo with you as the two of you danced around each other (physically and figuratively, he believed).

Most of the song involved a very casual choreo, as the two of you danced mostly separately but complimented one another. The kicker was the bridge of the song, where the melody mellowed out a bit and allowed for a quick dance break of sorts. It was very sensual in nature, and required you and Jihoon to tangle against each other as you used the other's body to complete the dance. Going over it had been full of shy smiles and eyes that couldn't seem to meet. It almost made him believe that you'd felt just as flustered as he did. When you actually began to dance over that part, however, you left Jihoon's mouth watering at how easy it was for you to meld your body to his; how you would guide his shy hands to place them in all the correct places. The feeling of your body against his was new and unfamiliar, but it felt so right to him. He wanted nothing more than to leave his mark on your skin, signaling that he was the only one meant to touch there. He was truly going mad.

It had now been about two months since Jihoon had first met you. The song hadn't been released yet, but most preparations for it had been done. All that was left was a quick music video shoot plus a few music show appearances that would come after the actual release of the song. Thus far, the song had been announced, with a pending release date of a month from now. Jihoon had enjoyed public reaction to the unexpected collab, with people even going as far as calling you a dynamic duo due to your respective reputations as the main producers of your groups.

You seemed to also enjoy knowing the news had finally broken to the public, even going as far as mentioning Jihoon in some of your lives. He specifically recalled a moment he'd seen as he watched it live, one that had him blushing and kicking his feet. You'd been asked about what it was like working with Jihoon, to which you responded with a whole paragraph of compliments directed at his work ethic, along with a short quip about how cute you found Jihoon to be, deeming it 'difficult to focus with him around.' He felt like he was on cloud nine at the comment, despite how lightheartedly you had delivered it.

After that (and a few more instances of you shooting compliments his way), he had decided he wanted to see you outside of a work-related schedule. He had begun making excuses to find himself on your group's floor, going as far as using Seungkwan and Soonyoung (who you'd unfortunately befriended due to his constant unwanted presence as you two worked on your song) as pawns in order to not be as obvious whenever he went to see you. Despite your usually outgoing demeanor, you seemed a bit more reserved whenever it was only you and Jihoon. He wondered if it was because of his quiet demeanor, or because you might've maybe returned his feelings and felt too shy to be too expressive around your crush - he knew damn well that was his case, at least.

Today the two of you were working out together at the gym - a huge feat for Jihoon, who could not help but ogle at you whenever you weren't paying attention - with him playing the role of your spotter. He had extensive knowledge of weightlifting, which he had been proud to impress you with. Right now, you were working on your arms, which required Jihoon at a close proximity in order to make sure you didn't get hurt. He enjoyed this way more than he could admit to anyone or himself.

"Is this okay? Is this the right position to do it?", you questioned as you made eye contact with him through the mirror. Your arms were lifted above your shoulders, with dumbbells on each of them as you attempted to lift them both at once.

"Yeah. That's perfect. Is it too heavy? Do you need to stop?"

"No, I'm fine, Ji, I promise. Just stand a little closer, yeah? I don't wanna drop them. And put your arms under mine?", he followed your instructions, now towering over you from behind as you sat in front of him.

The two of you had grown more comfortable in the past two weeks or so, seeing each other almost every day while outside of official schedules. He'd learned that, unlike him, you didn't have any issues with personal space, often allowing him to stand too close for comfort. He couldn't complain, though, as he was always too hypnotized by the proximity.

"Shit!", you yelped, almost dropping the dumbbell before Jihoon managed to intercept it. You had begun to do a set before the one minute mark passed, deeming you too weak to lift the dumbbell all the way up. Luckily, you had instructed Jihoon to stand close to you in order to prevent any actual damage.

"Are you okay?", he asked as he placed the dumbbells on the ground, rounding the seat in order to stand in front of your sitting form.

It was mind-numbing, really. The angle in which he was looking down at you, with your pretty eyes looking back at him with a semi-worried expression on your face at the shock of almost dropping such a heavy weight on yourself. The incident left his mind immediately at the sight of you, a layer of sweat covering your skin as you panted while looking up at him. He pulled you up by your arms, helping you stand in front of him. In very cliche fashion, you tripped a bit, almost landing on him before he caught you by your forearms. The classic 'falling-atop-your-crush' trope did not happen, but he still ended up at even a closer proximity to you. Just when he had finally begun to forget the sight of your lips right in front of his from back when you did the jacket shoot together.

He did not move back, and neither did you, allowing the small distance between you to fog both of your minds.

"T-thanks, Hoonie. Could've really hurt myself," this was the first time he'd ever heard a stutter out of you, with your eyes not looking into his as they usually did. Your closeness still not diminishing even when the danger of the situation had already dissipated.

"'Course. Uh, I .. Maybe we should go back to a lighter weight?"

It took you a moment to respond, eventually choosing to look back at him with your pretty eyes, a seemingly empty head to match. He liked the look on you. He could've sworn he saw your eyes lower to his lips, but his mind was too clouded to confirm.

"Uh, actually, I think im done for the day. Is that okay? I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. I'll meet you in front of your practice room?", he was confused at your sudden departure, dreading the separation, but he figured one of you would have to break the spell eventually.

"Yeah. See you there, Hoonie. I'll text you later, okay?", you gave him a quick peck on his cheek before turning to the exit, leaving behind a beet-red Jihoon as he tried to get his heartbeat to slow to a healthy rhythm.

He was left standing there, in the cold and empty company gym as he pondered as to whether or not his feelings may be mutual.

The next day the two of you met again, no mention of yesterday at all. What would there be to mention anyways? That you two stood close to each other? Jihoon felt like such a loser even having considered it anything. He was just inexperienced at this, and very much touch starved, so any small suggestive interaction had him overthinking. Like right now, as you hooked your arm on his to walk along the Hybe building together, not a care in the world about anyone who would see you.

"Did you see the outline for the music video?", you spoke up once the two of you had reached the cafeteria, picking a secluded table to sit at - not that many people wandered there anyway.

"Hmm. No, what is it?", he still hadn't managed to beat the habit of not checking his emails.

You giggled, seeming a little flustered, "Uh, we're playing a couple. Very Bonnie and Clyde but with a grudge twist. Seems pretty cool, actually."

"Oh. We-we're playing a couple?"

"Yeah. I think we can pull it off. You did really good at the shoot. Did you see the finished product? Okay, never mind. I know you didn't. They look really good, though. We look very convincing."

He knew you didn't mean anything by it, but you constantly had him wondering. If you liked him you wouldn't be this direct, right? This must've all been very lighthearted to you. Sure, you were friends, but that's where it all ended for you. Jihoon was the complete opposite. Every single interaction you had had him falling deeper and deeper into a hole of infatuation for you. There was nothing about you he wasn't obsessed with. It had begun to manifest in all areas of his life, even his work. He had never had more unfinished love songs in his hard drive.

Unbeknownst to you, he had purposely avoided taking a look at those pictures, knowing his mind would go blank at the image of you looking at him with those lustful eyes from a third-person perspective. Living through it already had him in agony night after night as he thought of nothing but you.

"Y-yeah. I saw them," he lied, "You did amazing."

"Really?", you were always giddy at his compliments (which didn't come often due to his shy demeanor towards you), "I've never done a more provocative concept like this before. It's fun. It suits you a lot, Jihoon. I'm glad I got to do it with you of all people."

And you had no idea how glad he was too.

Shooting the music video had somehow been even more agonizing than the photoshoot. It was two grueling days of constant time spent together. He loved your company, but the stylists kept insisting on dressing you in the most provocative outfits imaginable to man. He couldn't think while he looked at you. You were like a siren. Even the strongest of men wouldn't be able to resist you.

The worst of it came in the form of the director instructing you two to act like two lovers against the world. Word for word. It wasn't difficult for Jihoon to pretend he was enamored by you, but he was truly at a loss of words over how well you also played your role. By now he had become numb to your touch, having run through the choreography with you multiple times by now, and with you having become increasingly touchier through the time you'd known each other.

He thanked god under his breath as soon as the two days came to a close, knowing that now he could at least keep his feelings under wraps for a while. It was now about two weeks until the release of the song. According to the schedule, all that was left was one pre-recorded Studio Choom performance, two comeback shows after the release of the song, and two variety show appearances together. It was all pretty straightforward from now on. There was no way Jihoon wouldn't be able to put up with what was left. He had this in the bag.

The worst thing imaginable happened after that. Jihoon had not planned for this, nor had you, apparently.

It was very sudden and came completely out of left field. It pertained to you, but had affected Jihoon more than anyone involved.

Dispatch had released an article just a week before the official release of the song. Promotions had only begun, but had been slightly disrupted by this sudden interruption.

The article featured you, and an unknown man. They were clearly pictures taken off-guard, from a distance. You were in front of some building, ignorant to any cameras nearby. You were too close for Jihoon's comfort. He knew there was some type of relationship there. The caption to the picture didn't help matters either. Something about an estranged lover you'd been keeping secret from the media. There were too many pictures for Jihoon to process. In some you were embracing, while in others you were sharing a low-quality peck from what he could tell.

Seeing that article had been an absolute punch in the gut. There was no argument against it. There was clearly something between you and that guy. He was standing too close to you, even holding onto you in most of the pictures. You could barely tell it was you, but to Jihoon it was obvious. He had never felt heartbreak like this before. The two of you had never dated or even insinuated actual interest in the other, but it still felt like betrayal to him, as irrational as that thought was. It was all his fault, really. Had he told you about his feelings, maybe things would've been different.

Jihoon felt like an idiot. Of course this had all been just a business transaction to you. You were assigned to work with him, just as he was you. Even if he had led himself to believe that the feelings might've somehow been mutual, it had all just been in his head. What would you see in him anyways? Yeah, sure, you had a few things in common, but who in their right mind would ever want to be with the empty-hearted producer who cared for nothing but work. Hell, the day he met you was yet another day in which he had been willingly locked in his studio all day. That was what you would've been signing up for, had you looked his way. He didn't wish such a loveless relationship to anyone. He knew by now that he did- he did love you, but he knew he was probably unable to love you in the way you deserved. He was incapable of that. At 26, he'd had no experience with love. Why would someone as beautiful and amazing as you want to be with someone like him?

He was in love with you. That was something he could now full-heartedly admit to himself. Within these two months he had fallen deeply in love with you. Nothing could change that by now, not even knowing that you were already taken. He couldn't help himself in locking himself in his house after that, ignoring and all messages from both you and his manager regarding the few rehearsals he had skipped over.

Hybe did their damage control, making the situation go away as soon as it arose, but to Jihoon the damage had been done. He felt like an irrational idiot being hurt by this, but he needed to be away from you for a few days. You hadn't done anything to him, but he couldn't see you right now without feeling pain. He was punishing you with no proper justification, but his feelings were too strong for him to put up with.

A little over an entire day went on like this, with no communication from Jihoon to anyone. He was surprised no one had come looking for him until now, the moment in which bangs against his front door could be heard all the way from his room. Whoever was looking for him had made liberal use of the doorbell too, not giving him a single break from its constant ringing as he tried to ignore it. He finally grew too tired of it, deciding to give up his moping and going downstairs to beg that person to leave him alone to his misery. He still needed a few days before he could go face his reality. He couldn't face you just yet.

Except the choice had been made for him. His first mistake had been not checking the doorbell camera, which would've made him privy on who exactly was knocking on his door. He felt bad at thinking this, but had he known it was you, he never would've opened it.

He was beyond embarrassed at his appearance, once more wearing a three-day-old shirt and his cheeks damp with the tears he hadn't yet wiped away. You, on the other hand, looked as beautiful as ever. You carried a worried look on your face, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. He was not given time to welcome you in before you barged in for yourself, launching yourself at him in a tight hug before he could say anything. He wasn't an idiot, and he was too weak for his liking, so he held you back just as tight, enjoying a good three or so minutes of silence as you held each other.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, unhooking your face from the crook of his neck as you spoke up, still holding onto him, "Jihoon ... I'm so sorry. It's- it's not what you think, I swear. Please believe me."

He wasn't sure why you were so apologetic. You didn't owe him anything. He felt like even more of a loser at making you feel like you had to apologize for having a boyfriend. He knew that by now there was no way you didn't know about his crush on you, which made him feel even more humiliated at the situation. He separated himself from you for the first time ever, creating some distance as he refused to look at you. He took this chance to close the door he had left open when you had attacked him with your embrace.

"You don't have to ..."

"No, Jihoon. Listen to me. Please."

Your eyes were glossy now, and Jihoon felt bad at causing you any distress, so he signaled at you to continue.

"It's not- it isn't what you think. Yeah, I ... I did have a ... a thing with that guy. I know Hybe denied it being me, but you know- you know it's me. But it's not how it looks!"

"Then ... what is it?", he couldn't believe he was even letting himself ask that question, as if you had to explain yourself to him. But part of him really wanted to know. He wanted to somehow hear you say that it wasn't true, that you would never look at anyone but him.

"It's an old picture. He- he used to work for our group, as staff. We had a thing. It ended badly. Haven't really dated since then. This was before I met you, Jihoon, please, I need you to know that."

"You .. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you need me to know that?", he hoped against all hope that you'd answer with what he'd been wanting to hear since he met you, but he knew he was playing with the devil when asking you that. He knew there was a very logical chance that you'd just confirm your platonic feelings for him, or straight up reject him.

"You know, Jihoon. I know you know. I- I'd never do that to you. I'd never look at anyone but you."

"Do you-"

"Yes', you paused, 'I like you, Jihoon."

And then his heart stopped beating.

"So much. Since we met. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met. I like you so fucking much. I can't think of anything else. I thought it was just because I've always been a fan of yours, but ... being around you just made me feel so happy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. Fuck, I'm sorry I made you feel like there was someone else in the picture."

He didn't know what to say. You'd said everything he had wanted to hear for the past two months. You liked him. It wasn't one-sided. There was nothing stopping him from making you his now. Those feelings he thought had been fake for the portrayal of your song's concept had been genuine all along. He'd never felt such relief.

"Jihoon? Is it not ...? Fuck. Did I misread everything? Shit, I'm sorry. I should, uh, I should go-"

Fuck. No! He needed to reciprocate, he just had no idea how. He couldn't have you thinking he wasn't equally (if not more) obsessed with you. So he did the one thing he could think of in that moment. Something he had imagined time and time again, but never had the courage to do.

You yelped against him as he pulled his lips to yours, but immediately began kissing him back. There was nothing tender about the kiss as Jihoon would've expected. It was a complete mess from the start. The kiss was a testament to how badly you'd both wanted each other this whole time.

Jihoon felt lightheaded at the feeling of your tongue sneaking its way into his mouth, and the moans that accompanied it. He couldn't help but feel immediate arousal at your touch. He wasn't sure how to kiss you. He'd never shared such a passionate exchange before, but he wanted to give you everything in him with his kiss.

You only pulled away when you were out of breath, still keeping yourself as close to him as possible as you breathed into each other's mouths, your lips lightly closing over his as you regained your breath.

"Hoonie ..." the sound of your breathless voice muttering his name did shameful things to him. There was no way he could handle a conversation right now.

"Tell me- tell me you like me. I need to know. Please ..." the sheer lust and desperation in your voice were things that would never leave Jihoon's mind.

"So much. I li- I love you. You have no idea. Every day was agony not acting on it. I'm sorry if it's too much, but it's true. I've never felt this way before. I'm in love with you. The thought of you with someone else made me wanna give everything up. It's ... God, I just love you."

You didn't seem to need any more words before closing the gap again, this time backing him up against the nearest wall as you kissed him with all your might. You took full control of the kiss, grabbing his cheeks and angling him so you could play with his lips as you saw fit. He moaned and writhed against you, shyly attempting to hold onto your waist but not actually daring to. You must've caught wind of his intentions, grabbing onto his hands and forcing them on your waist, pressing your chest up against his. He began to caress your waist, falling in love with the slope of your back in the process. He was still shy with his movements, but his lips were nothing but. He adored your soft sighs against his lips any time his tongue would suckle on yours, or any time his teeth nibbled on your bottom lip.

You must've eventually grown tired of his shy demeanor, grabbing onto his arms and pining them above his head, beginning to softly grind against him as you began to lick and suck at his neck. Jihoon was on cloud nine. His body was unsure of how to react to such pleasure from someone he had already grown so addicted to.

"Hoonie ... want you so bad ... please," his knees buckled at your begging, your warm breath hitting against his ear as he groaned out at the thought of you in his bed.

He was simply a shell of himself at that point, so it had been your responsibility to drag the both of you in the direction he pointed his bedroom was at, but as soon as you were there, you pushed him to lay on the bed. He was ready for whatever you were willing to give him. He had no chance against you anyway.

"Hoonie, shit. Been wanting you for so long. Can I, please?", you'd begun to straddle him, leaning over him as you ghosted over his lips. He swore he wasn't going to make it, body heating up at the mere suggestion of you touching him.

"P-please ..."

You began kissing him again, running your hands up and down his torso, eventually landing on his crotch, softly caressing it as he whined into your mouth.

"Oh? Jihoonie ... You're so hard. Want me to help you?"

"Fuck ... Need you so bad, please ..."

"But we haven't even started to have fun," you moved your hand away, now sitting up a bit to begin grinding against his crotch, deep movements making his eyes roll back as his arms laid limp on his sides.

"Won't you touch me, Hoonie? Don't be shy. You already know how much I want you," you guided his hands to your hips, making him clamp his fingers on the clothed flesh while you moaned out at the feeling of his hard cock gracing your most delicate parts.

You were both beginning to heat up, which led you to throw your shirt off, now only in a bra and some sweats. He audibly moaned at the view, only causing you to play it up for him as you caressed your own covered breasts, "Want me to take my bra off, baby? Hmm?"

"Y-yes. Wanna see you so bad. You're so beautiful."

That was enough for you to wiggle your way out of your pants, throwing off your bra right after. The sight had his cock squirming under you. No amount of lonely nights thinking about you could have ever prepared him for the sight before him. Your soft skin shining under the soft light of the half drawn blinds. He wanted to memorize your body, leave his mark on every inch of it, but his arms would not move from your hips. He knew that the moment he got his hands on you he would finally face insanity. There was not a single detail he wasn't already obsessed with. He wanted you so badly, but he didn't know what to do with himself. His cock was extremely swollen under his sweats, begging to find comfort in any crevice of your body you would allow. The fleeting thought of fucking your pretty tits flew through his mind, making him shudder as he continued to pant at the beautiful girl sitting on him.

"Touch me?", you asked, already guiding his hands to your breasts, making him sit up to be face to face with you.

"Holy fuck ..." he moaned at the warmth of your breasts in his hands. He couldn't help himself in getting his fill of you, hands squeezing and running all over your chest. The moment he dared to pinch at your nipples he truly saw heaven, hearing you whine his name in the prettiest sound he'd ever heard.

"Hoo-Hoonie ... Please. Touch me more. Just like that," you let your head fall back, sighing at the soft touch of his fingers pinching at your nipples, "Your mouth, Hoonie ..."

That was all he needed to lower his head and begin licking at your nipples, biting lightly as he pulled at them, dick twitching desperately at the pretty sounds leaving your lips. He could've sworn he'd cum just from how beautiful you sounded. His ears were ringing by now, only able to process the feeling of your hand pressing his face against your chest and your hips suddenly restarting their movements against his own.

You let him make out with your tits for a bit before pulling him off, much to his dismay. You giggled at his reaction, but began to pout at him to get him to remove his top.

"Shit. God, Hoonie, you're so gorgeous," you breathed out upon seeing his bare chest, running your hands up and down the blank canvas. You let your own fingers pull and pinch at his nipples a bit, slow in your movements as he whined at you. He understood now, how fucking good such a light touch in such a sensitive area felt. He was beginning to lose all air in his brain, mind foggy as you gave him all types of pleasure.

He needed you now. Needed attention in his nether area so bad. He could feel how wet you were through his sweats, softly begging you to please let him have you. The whisper against your ear had you pulling your hands away from his chest, separating yourself enough to look into his eyes.

"Want you too. Can I have it, Hoonie? Fuck ... Will you judge me if I beg? I just ... Want you in my mouth so bad, Hoonie, please."

He felt embarrassed by his reaction, but he couldn't help but moan loudly at that simple sentence, nodding like crazy at the proposition. The last time he'd been in someone's mouth had been years ago. He had felt intimate touch before, but only a handful of times total. He was fully unprepared for what your mouth encompassing him would feel like.

Before he knew it, you had thrown off both his pants and boxers, enticing him to sit at the edge of the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were looking at his cock as if it were your last meal, eyes crossed and a moan leaving your mouth at the sight. He couldn't believe a gorgeous thing like yourself would ever show so much thirst for him. His soul left his body the moment you lowered your tongue onto his tip, kitten-licking at it as you looked up into his eyes. What truly made him lose his mind, however, was the moment you began to bob your head up and down his cock, with your hands playing and scratching at his balls. His hands clutched at the sheets, unable to hold himself in a sat up position due to the unimaginable pleasure. He was unsure how he didn't cum the moment you put your mouth on him (or the moment you kissed him, if he was being honest).

"So- fuck ... So fucking good. You're perfect. Please ..." he wasn't sure what he was begging for. The pleasure was clouding his mind. And then you did something that had him gasping for air. You unglued your mouth from gagging on his cock in favor of licking and sucking at his balls. His eyes rolled all the way back into his brain, back arching against the bed as you took turns licking his balls and worshiping his cock.

Unsurprisingly, he came in your mouth moments later, almost blacking out at the feeling. He was unable to catch his breath for a good minute, all the while you swallowed his seed and sat back on him. Before he was able to resume his breathing, you had already shoved your tongue back in his mouth, making him whine at the mixture of your saliva and his cum twirling in your tongue. He couldn't help his hands running all over your body, hugging and squeezing at every curve he could reach.

"Baby, I-"

"Taste so good, Hoonie, fuck. You have no idea how much I thought about that. Every time you wore those tiny little shorts to dance practice all I wanted to do was kick everyone out and beg you to fuck my mouth."

Jesus Christ. He hated how outspoken you were sometimes. He felt himself begin to harden again at just the simple thought of you wanting him as much as he did you (even though he was 99% sure that was impossible). He felt bad, but he was a bit sad he had cum in your mouth. He had thought of the feeling of your cunt wrapping around him almost every night for the past month. He knew he'd get it sooner or later, but a sinister part of his brain was begging him to flip you around and go to town on you. He might've been inexperienced, but he knew that his body would take him there if he needed it.

"W-wanna ..."

"Hmm? Yeah, baby?", you softly caressed his cheek, looking at him with so much love in your eyes.

"Please ..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He felt too ashamed at asking for even more out of you when he'd already made you do all the work to confess and even made him have the best orgasm of his life.

"Yeah, Hoonie? Want me? Want you too. You have no idea ..." he thanked god the moment you started grinding against his bare dick yet again, leaning down to lick at his lips, "Can I ride you, baby? Please ... Been dreaming about it."

All he could do was whine and nod as his hands squeezed at your ass, trying to entice you into lifting your hips so you could finally sit on his now hardened dick.

No words left his mouth as you finally lowered on him, all his focus on the pretty expression on your face as you moaned out at the feeling of being impaled by him. His back arched, head digging back into the mattress at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. He felt your back arch too as you leaned down to kiss him, mouths open as you whined and mewled at each other.

You began humping him with no proper rhythm, causing him to thrust upwards to meet your own grinds. He was so desperate for you. Nothing compared to how good he felt in that moment. Your body was drawing all types of pleasure out of him.

"F-feel so good. Hoonie ... You're so- Ah! So fucking good for me."

"Me? You ... Shit. Never felt this good. You're perfect," you tightened at his words, making him plant his feet on the bed and begin to frantically fuck upwards, leading you to scream and whine his name for all his neighbors to hear.

"Love you so much- Fuck! Been wanting you forever. Didn't know how hard I'd fall for you that day, shit. You're everything to me," he couldn't help himself in rambling yet another confession in your ear as you attempted to match the animalistic pace of his thrusts.

"Love you too, Hoonie. You have n-no idea. Never letting you go. You- you're mine now," and yours he wanted to be forever.

Jihoon had never imagined he'd feel love like this as long as he was alive. He had lost hope in finding the perfect girl many years ago, assuming his lifestyle to be too difficult for him to find someone to love him so strongly, but now he had you. Now he had you in his arms as you professed your love for one another. He had never felt such happiness. His ability to think left him soon after, however, as you clamped down on him with yet another scream of his name as you found your end, taking him with you in his own.

After the two minutes or so that it took you to regain your breaths, you managed to cuddle up against each other, unable to stop caressing each other in one way or another. The smiles wouldn't leave your faces. Jihoon couldn't help but think of his life; how he had everything a man could ever want, and now he had you on top of all that, and you'd quickly become his favorite thing. You spent the rest of the day in his bed, making love and waxing poetic at one another. You completely disregarded any collab preparations for the day, opting instead to finally give into each other to the fullest extent.

Soon after, all promotions finally ended. You and Jihoon received equal accolades on your ability to mix both your styles, achieving a successful collaboration between two monster producers. The praise over being all rounders was also endless, as people commended you both for the production, vocals, dance, visuals and chemistry demonstrated all throughout the promotional period.

People noticed how comfortable you were around each other, despite having never publicly interacted before the release date of the single. People believed it was simply amazing work ethic being showcased by the two of you, but what didn't meet the public eye was the genuine love and enjoyment behind every interaction. The two of you had made it a point to begin appearing publicly together often from then on (strictly as friends to anyone who asked, of course), which allowed you to hide your relationship in plain sight.

Jihoon had never been happier, now having you as yet another companion to visit him at his Universe Factory any time he would lock himself in there to work, a habit that began to diminish as he grew more and more addicted to your company outside the confinement of those four walls.

Today was yet another one of those occasions, as you were sharing yet another meal together at the Hybe cafeteria. Staff was mostly unaware of the nature of your relationship, but you two liked it that way.

"Hey," you called out to him as you played around with his phone.

"Hmm?"

"Did you see this email from Bumzu?", he shook his head in denial, "He said Hybe's requesting your help producing for Gyu's collab with Jungkook. Cause of how well ours did."

"Yeah?", he chuckled, "Gonna have to talk to him. Not doing it without you."

"Oh, really?", you grinned at him, "Wanna team up again?", you leaned closer to him, but not too close to draw suspicion from the few other idols and staff around who were eating there.

"Mhm. You did most of the work. Couldn't've done it without you."

He knew that to be completely true, as he would've remained in his slump had you not come out of left field to make his life do a 180.

"Wanna team up with you for the rest of my life."

You smiled at him. He could see in your eyes you wanted to show some sort of affection towards him, but could not due to the public setting. All it took was one look between you for him to know you felt the same. You held his hand under the table, going back to conversation about your next possible collaboration together with your other labelmates, happy to have found a soulmate in one another.

a/n: idk how other writers are putting out 20k+ words monsters jesus christ. anyways i rlly hope u enjoyed <33 this concept had been plaguing my mind for a while so im rlly happy to have finally finished it!!

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