#jihoon fanfic
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A Very Patient Man | LJH
Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader
Rating: M 🔞; NSFW
Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp
Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie
Word count: 4.6k words
Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.
A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣
This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.
Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜
It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.
However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.
“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”
Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”
“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.
“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”
You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”
He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”
You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”
“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.
“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”
He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.
“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”
His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.
He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.
“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”
Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.
You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?
You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.
He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”
The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”
“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”
You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...
You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.
“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.
“It’s getting late.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.
“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”
He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.
“Alright. If you’re sure—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.
He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.
That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.
********************************************
A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.
After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.
You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.
Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.
After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.
The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.
Finally, he’s had enough.
“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”
“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.
“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”
You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.
“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.
“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.
“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.
You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”
He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”
You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”
“What about it?”
“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”
His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”
Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”
He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”
You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.
“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.
You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”
“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”
His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.
“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”
You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.
He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.
“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.
You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”
He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”
Your cheeks flush at his compliment.
Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.
Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”
He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”
“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.
You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”
His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.
********
You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?
“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”
“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”
You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”
“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”
You nod.
“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”
You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.
“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.
“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”
When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.
“Maybe we could start with kissing?”
“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.
You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.
When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.
Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.
Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.
He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”
“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.
“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”
You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”
“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”
Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.
“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.
“Play with them.”
His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.
He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.
His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.
You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.
His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.
One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.
His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.
He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.
It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.
“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”
His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.
“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.
Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.
He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.
“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.
“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.
You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.
He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.
You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.
You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.
“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”
He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”
It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.
After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.
When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.
“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”
“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”
“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.
His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.
You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.
“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.
You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”
“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.
With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.
You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.
“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.
He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.
You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.
“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.
“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.
“You…s-sure…?”
You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.
Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.
“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”
He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”
********
After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.
“Are you okay?”
You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”
“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”
“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”
He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”
You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”
He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.
When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.
This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.
As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.
“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.
You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”
He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”
“You think so?”
He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”
You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”
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fucking with jihoon where he goes slow enough to let you breathe, but goes so so SO deep that you're left speechless, with an empty brain. and he is so mean... he makes fun of you for not being able to think anymore and makes you say loud and clear that you are only his.
dumbification with woozi
WARNINGS: smut, dumbification, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.
jihoon had you in ruins, actually fucking ruins.
his thrusts were brain-melting, everytime he thrusted in and back, you felt every-inch sliding through the thin skin of your folds, then to the gummy walls. each time his cock disappeared into you completely, sinking his weight on you, your thighs trembled like they were trying to short-circuit, trying to adjust to the fullness. and it wasn’t even because he was trying to be nice about it. no. he was taking his time because he enjoyed watching you break.
“you good, baby?” jihoon’s voice was that compound of mocking and sweetness that had your head spinning. he knew you weren’t good. your legs were locked around his waist, toes curling every time he pressed all the way in. he was seated so deep inside you, it was like he was trying to kiss your cervix with every shove of his cock.
“f-fuck,” you stuttered. you reached for his wrist, gripping it like it was salvation.
“what’s that?” he teased, dipping his head to brush his lips against your ear. “didn’t catch that, angel.”
his hips rolled again, the full length of him sinking in slow, and you swore you saw stars. your brain short-circuited the second his pelvis met yours, and a high-pitched hiccup escaped you, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
“oh my god, jihoon,” you slurred.
he chuckled, so condescending it made your insides twist. “what happened to all that attitude you had earlier, huh? thought you were gonna ruin me tonight?” he smirked, pulling back slightly just to slam back in to the base, drawing a yelp from you. “look at you now. can’t even talk.”
your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, desperate for something to anchor you. “i-i can—”
“can what?” he interrupted, cutting you off with another deep thrust that made your back arch completely off the bed. your mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.
“aw, poor thing,” he cooed, slowing down to that same excruciatingly deep pace. his eyes burned into yours, watching every shudder that passed through you. “can’t even think straight, can you?”
you shook your head, whining helplessly as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. the stretch, the depth—was literally fucking with you.
jihoon’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, his other hand gripping your thigh tightly to keep you in place. “what’s that? nothing to say now?”
“y-you’re so mean ji,” you hiccuped.
his smirk widened, and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “mean? baby, I’m making you feel this good, and you’re calling me mean?”
your nails raked down his back as his hips snapped forward again, the slow drag of his cock against your walls making you choke out a broken moan. he pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. “say it,” he demanded, his voice dropping an octave. “say you’re mine. right now.”
your brain struggled to process his words.
his hand slid to your throat, not squeezing, just holding you in place as his thrusts deepened even more. “you forget how to talk already? that’s cute... but i’m waiting, angel. say it, or I’m stopping.”
“no! no, don’t stop!” you cried out desperate.
“then say it,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“i’m yours, ji,” you gasped, tears slipping down your cheeks as your body trembled uncontrollably. “only yours, always yours..”
his smirk softened, his hand tightening just slightly on your thigh as he rolled his hips again, this time pulling an outright sob from your throat. “that’s my good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours.
you could merely respond, your mind completely blank except for him, the way he filled you, the way he owned every inch of you.
jihoon pulled back to look at you, so full of pride. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he draws back, slow as molasses, and then thrusts forward again—just as deep
you shook your head weakly, unable to do anything but cling to him as he continued to fuck you with that same devastating pace.
“good,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “now, let me hear you scream my name when you come.”
“ji-hoon—!”
“you can remember my name, hm? bet that’s the only thing in that pretty little head of yours right now.
your hands fly up to grab his neck, hair, skin, needing something to hold onto, but he just chuckles, low and mean.
“aw, is it too much?” he teases, his hand slides down to grip your thigh, pinning it against his side. “you’re shaking so much, baby. can’t even keep those legs steady for me.”
you don’t even notice the tears slipping down your cheeks until his thumb brushes them away. “mine...” he mutters one last time, his voice sounding as a self-belief as he buries himself to the hilt and stays there, holding you against him as your orgasm makes your ears ring.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#woozi smut#woozi reaction#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#woozi x you#woozi x y/n#jihoon smut#jihoon x reader#svt x reader#lee jihoon#woozi fanfic#jihoon fanfic#lee jihoon smut#seventeen woozi#seventeen jihoon#yes woozi daddy rail me please
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soft spot for you ; lee jihoon
SUMMARY. jihoon has a soft spot reserved just for you.
PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader
GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers (idiots to lovers), college au (they're seniors), soonyoung horanghae agenda, mildly ambiguous hopeful ending, just wholesome things
WARNINGS. language/swearing
WORDS. 2.51k
NOTES. here's a short little piece lol - if you couldn't tell i'm obsessed with soft spot by keshi... according to airbuds i listened to it like 64 times yesterday oops. also dedicating this to @ppyopulii my resident woozidan love you jay!! ok it's like 6 am for me rn so i'm going to sleep after posting goodnight (or goodmorning i suppose) enjoy reading!
TAGS. @mochacoda @ppyopulii (dm or ask to join!)
PLAYLIST. soft spot - keshi / the cutest pair - regina song
There has never been a time where you did not know Lee Jihoon.
Or if there has, you don’t really remember it. It’s always been you and him, a package deal; always two halves to the whole, no questions asked. The two of you could not be more different, but even so – everything is just so easy when he’s with you.
“Ji, can you pass me the gummies, please?”
Soonyoung watches as Jihoon wordlessly brings the bag of gummy bears over to you, picking out the pineapple ones he knows you like.
“You don’t give me candy,” he sulks, homework lying forgotten on the table.
“You are annoying,” Jihoon tells him, “and you also haven’t gotten a single bit of work done since you’ve gotten here. Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”
“Well, I did the math and I could theoretically pass this class even if I get a 50.”
“At the rate you’re studying, I doubt even that’s possible.”
That gets a preoccupied laugh out of you. Jihoon smiles – he knows you’re listening, even as you type away at your laptop. You always have an ear out for anything he has to say, you hope he’s learned over the years.
“You have no faith in me,” Soonyoung grumbles.
“Correct.”
The exchange has you smiling to yourself quietly, because anyone with a brain and two eyes knows that Jihoon cherishes his dear friend very much, despite the harsh words.
Tough love, you like to call it, also having had to deal with Soonyoung’s questionable decisions multiple times before.
The clock hits midnight, and it still feels like you’ve made little no headway on your assignment. Soonyoung is currently knocked out, head leaning against his chair, and Jihoon is scrolling on his phone absentmindedly like he has been for the past hour.
“You know you can leave, right?” you whisper to him. “You literally have no reason to stay here.”
He blinks, eyes tired from staring at the screen all day. “You’re here.”
“That doesn’t necessarily extend to you,” you point out, giving your laptop screen a disdainful look. “You’re not the one doing this god awful project.”
Jihoon leans closer to squint at the document you’ve got pulled up, his hair brushing against your cheek. “Is this for that one systems programming class?”
“Uh-huh.”
“This looks awful,” he remarks.
“You’re not helping!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, patting your shoulder comfortingly. “I think they have a new professor teaching it this semester. I don’t recognize the dude’s name, either, but we probably had it a lot easier.”
“Great. I’m going to drop out of college,” you groan.
“And leave me here with Soonyoung?”
You consider it for a moment, wrinkling your nose at the sleeping man across from you.
“Good point.”
Jihoon sighs, placing his phone down on the table and looking at you with a concerned expression on his face.
“I wish you hadn’t drank all that coffee earlier. You always get wired and end up not sleeping for at least sixteen hours.”
“That was the point,” you huff, editing a line of code. “Ji, if I cave and sleep now, I might literally fail all my classes.”
He frowns at you. “Sleep is a necessity, and you’re treating it like a luxury. You’re just as bad as Soonyoung.”
“Now that’s a comparison I didn’t think I’d ever hear,” you say, amused.
Even between your deflections, though, you know that Jihoon is right. You’ve started to notice the dark circles around your eyes lately, the little signs that you’ve been pushing yourself a little too hard.
And yet, you simply can’t. Stopping now is like throwing a wrench into the gears of your carefully planned out life. You know Jihoon knows that, too.
“Just be careful,” he tells you, glancing away indifferently. “Don’t want you to go and die out of sheer stress before you can even graduate.”
“Are you saying I won’t even make it to the end of the semester?”
“Well, not like this.”
He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the time you stay holed up in the library, but he doesn’t leave either. You eventually give up trying to get him to go home and get some sleep, but you can’t say you don’t find some type of comfort in his presence, either.
It has always been this way. You will always look out for each other.
It’s a staggering two in the morning by the time you finally get to shut your laptop. You wake Soonyoung gently, though Jihoon tells you not to.
(“Just leave him here, he probably won’t wake up until noon, anyways.”
“We can’t do that, are you insane?!”)
The trudge back to your apartment is silent, the weight of a sleepless week on all of your shoulders. The boys insist on walking you back to your place, and you gratefully accept their company on the walk back.
Jihoon stops you right before you head into the building, propping open the door with his shoulder. Have his arms always been so… prominent?
You raise your eyebrows when he slips you another packet of gummy bears. “What’s this for?”
“Sustenance,” he says, and there’s that rare smile on his face again, one you only really see at times like this, when he’s just talking to you. His eyes always crinkle at the corners, forming crescents, and there’s something so heartwarming about his happiness when it spreads to you, too. “I picked up extra. For tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Ji.”
“Yeah, whatever,” comes his chosen response, but the gesture stays with you long after that. You end up leaving it on your desk with the rest of your things, and when you wash up the next morning you find it lying there, hastily forgotten in the rush to get under your covers.
It’s early, and the morning light is shining through your window. You rip the bag open, popping the first piece into your mouth, and the familiar flavor of pineapple floods your tongue.
“Soonyoung, please.”
“You know, I’m with him on this one,” you pipe up, enjoying the scene unfolding in front of you right now. “It can’t hurt to do it for like, two seconds.”
Jihoon looks genuinely distraught at just the thought of doing Soonyoung’s tiger pose, even for a quick selfie. It’s almost funny, almost.
“This goes against all my values and morals,” he states stubbornly.
“You just hate me,” Soonyoung complains, trying to get a good angle with his phone. It’s lovely out today, and you thought having lunch outside in the courtyard with your friends would be a nice way to destress from the week you’ve been having.
This, however, might be accomplishing just the opposite.
“Come on, you can horanghae for one photo,” you coax him gently. “Just let him have this one, okay?”
He scowls deeply, folding his arms. “No.”
“Jihoon.”
He manages to hold your stern gaze for all of five seconds before looking away, rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” he mutters in defeat as he brings his hand up to his face, and Soonyoung cheers. “I better be compensated for this.”
You frown. “You can only be compensated for emotional or financial distress.”
“My point exactly.”
The fiasco is more or less over with by the time you’ve finished your sandwich, with Soonyoung promising to never let that selfie see the light of day on social media. The sun is high in the sky, and the warm weather has you feeling more like yourself than you have in a while.
Soonyoung plops himself down beside you as you click through an email on your phone. He observes you silently, occasionally glancing towards Jihoon’s retreating figure going to fetch water bottles from the trunk of your car.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask after a while, not moving your eyes from the screen.
“You two are so weird,” he remarks pensively. “I’ve known Jihoon as long as you have, but you get all the privileges that no one else does.”
You look at him curiously. “Like horanghae privileges?”
“Yeah, exactly,” he agrees, laughing, “but it’s everything else, too. You know what I mean.”
You do know what he means. You can’t say you’ve never questioned it before, either; the unspoken words sometimes hang in the air, suspended like a weight that hasn’t quite dropped yet.
But to even question it puts a lot of things on the line, and you’re not ready for that. So you just let it go, words dissolving on the tip of your tongue.
“We’re just friends,” is your very anticipated answer. Soonyoung only chuckles lightly at your response.
“You always say that, but I’ve seen that man genuinely almost break his neck looking at you every time you laugh,” he points out, and you can’t even refute it. “I’ve seen it all, so many times. I literally can’t possibly be wrong.”
And shit, if Soonyoung isn’t right, if he hasn’t said exactly what has been on your mind when you let it wander. But just the thought of that is frightening, and it’s enough for you to smack his shoulder playfully, deflecting again.
“Don’t be silly,” you chide him, trying to change the subject. “Maybe you’re just infinitely more annoying than I am.”
Soonyoung laughs out loud at this. “I thought we already established that!”
“For once in your life, you’re actually correct,” Jihoon calls out, approaching your spot with water in tow. “I can’t remember the last time I had a moment of peace with you.”
“You love me,” Soonyoung teases, accepting a bottle. Jihoon rolls his eyes, but the small smile on his lips gives him away.
The rest of the day flies by so quickly between their bickering and the endless chatter that follows. You wonder why you haven’t done this sooner, barring exam weeks and important deadlines. Lately things had gotten so hectic that you hadn’t spent much time with either of them.
“Hey, that’s cheating!”
“No, this is allowed! It’s literally the rules!”
It’s every day with these two, you can’t help but think to yourself as they argue over an UNO play, cards lying forgotten on the gingham picnic blanket.
And in truth, you would not have it any other way.
The day your thoughts start to boil over, it rains like there is no tomorrow.
“Fuck.”
The word drops from your mouth as you glance out the window, met with the torrential showers. Across from you, Jihoon’s got his headphones on, focused on an assignment he’s been trying to do for the past few days.
You take a long sip of the coffee he’d brought you earlier. The taste is warm and familiar on your tongue, and you wonder how he got it down exactly, whether this is a step out of the ordinary for him or not. Ever since that day in the yard, Soonyoung’s words have done nothing but haunt you.
The seconds tick by as you watch him quietly, taking in his features and mannerisms. Amidst the familiarity is the feeling of a new emotion unfolding, and to name it scares you like nothing else.
“Wow, I think my eyes are burning,” Jihoon announces abruptly, leaning back in his chair. The exhaustion is evident in his face – you could count on one hand how much sleep he’s gotten over the last few days. “I can’t wait to never take an exam again.”
“Like the workforce is any better.”
“At least there won’t be any of this, though.”
“Yeah, but taxes, bills, all of that stuff,” you list off, “there’s a bunch of hard things that we don’t need to worry about just yet.”
“Oh, I guess you’re right,” Jihoon accepts, yawning as he glances back at his screen. “We grew up so fast, didn’t we?”
You nod in agreement. “Scary. I really don’t feel equipped to start adulting.”
The silence that follows only makes you feel the weight of your statement even more. The two of you sit there like that for a while, watching the rain fall rhythmically on the road outside.
You don’t enjoy this kind of weather, but still, you have to admit that there’s something awfully peaceful about it. It’s as if the pit-pat of the raindrops syncs with your own heart, and it grounds you in a way.
“You know, you could call me for any of that stuff,” Jihoon starts, still gazing out the window. “I can’t guarantee being able to help, but we can figure these things out together.”
You look over at him, in part surprise and part fondness. “That would be quite the tall order from me,” you joke.
He just shakes his head reassuringly. “Nothing ever is. Not if you ask.”
“Aww, look who’s being awfully nice today.”
“Hey, I’m nice every day! Well, most days,” he corrects himself immediately.
“I think Soonyoung would have a lot to say about that, Ji.”
Jihoon’s lips are pulled into a slight pout as he furrows his brows at your words.
“I care more about what you think than Soonyoung,” he confesses, mouth open in a slight laugh. “Always have.”
You were going to say something, but now your throat is dry, the words gone from your mouth. It’s all so confusing; you can’t tell if this is supposed to mean what you think – secretly hope – it does, and it won’t do to give yourself false hope.
“Oh?” you just say instead.
“Thought you’d know that after a decade,” he adds, mildly amused. You can tell he’s trying to act as nonchalant as possible, but you see right through it. “When have I not had your back?”
You catch yourself staring into his eyes for a little too long, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. There is something there that feels a lot like a warm welcome home.
“Never,” you say hesitantly. There’s many more words you want to say, but they don’t come right now, still stuck in your mind.
Jihoon just smiles tentatively at you, and in that moment you understand everything that he hasn’t said – everything he hasn’t needed to say.
“Finish up,” he says gently, nodding towards your laptop. “I’ll buy dinner if you can get it done within the next hour.”
You laugh at that, knowing he’ll do it regardless. “Deal.”
Even so, you can’t help but steal the occasional glance back at him, meeting his eyes across the table ever so often. It’s so strange, so new, but so intimate at the same time.
You smile to yourself, barely concealing a giggle. Jihoon has returned to his work, squinting at the lines of code, but you know the two of you will have a nice long talk about this over dinner.
Whatever this is, you’re not sure – but it’s Lee Jihoon, and to you that means everything will be okay. If anything, excitement is what bubbles in your stomach, an anticipation for whatever more is in store for you.
The rain has ceased, and the sun is back.
God, you can’t wait to tell Soonyoung about this.
thanks for reading! i usually end up writing much longer fics so this was really fun, let me know what you think! love, ashi xx
#svthub#jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#svt jihoon#svt woozi#woozi#jihoon fluff#woozi fluff#woozi friends to lovers#jihoon friends to lovers#svt fanfic#woozi fanfic#jihoon fanfic#woozi fic#woozi one shot#jihoon one shot#hot off the press
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— you feel like home





paring. jihoon x reader genre. fluff. established relationship wc. 0.4k warning. none
synopsis. if home was a person, jihoon would say its you.

jihoon lets out a deep sigh and leans back into his chair, fingers carding through his hair after shutting down his computer.
today was a long day, filled with filming content as well as dance practice, ending the day with hours spent in his universe factory.
it was long past an appropriate time for a human to go to sleep. yet, you still decided to wait for him.
his swivels around to see you sitting on his couch, eyes growing heavier by the second as you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, the LED lights in his studio hitting your face.
you glance up at him, “finished?” you ask him with a smile.
he nods and plops right next to you on the couch, “so tired.”
he glances at you and scoots a little closer, making you tilt your head in curiosity. he slowly rests his head on your shoulder and lets out a big sigh, you chuckle, your hands beginning to play with his long, slender fingers.
although hating the idea of physical affection in general (especially with soonyoung), he can’t seem to help but give in when it comes to you.
he’s amazed at the fact that one person can just release the tension in his body with just a simple touch. in your presence, he doesn’t feel the burden that comes with being a producer and the tiredness that once plagued his body dissolves.
you feel like home.
a place where he never wants to leave, a place to seek comfort, a place where he can relax, and let the time pass by without a single care in the world.
“thank you.” he says, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of your hands interlocking with his.
“for what?” you chuckle in response.
“being here and waiting for me even though its super late. well, now early in the morning.” he lets out a big exhale, “i really do appreciate it.”
you let out a chuckle and speak into his hair, “i’d do anything for you, even if it’s staying at the company until the early hours of the morning if it means i could spend just a little more time with you.” a comfortable silence settles in the room, “but as much as i love being here in your studio, i think it’s about time we head home, don't you think?"
jihoon chuckles into your neck and smiles to himself, “yeah… let’s go home."

thank you for reading until the end!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!
a/n. she’s back?! lets hope i dont disappear for another 6 months again.
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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."
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46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again." with woozi :’)
ah!!!! so cute!!! thank you for requesting!! 🥰
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fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."
jihoon flipped open his notebook, ready to show the boys the new lyrics he'd been working on. the practice room was its usual chaos—mingyu rummaging through snack bags, chan tapping out a beat on his knee—but they quieted when jihoon cleared his throat.
“alright, listen to this,” he began, but the words caught in his throat when he looked down.
his notebook, usually filled with meticulous handwriting and carefully crafted lyrics, was now decorated with tiny hearts scattered across the margins.
“oh my god,” mingyu gasped, leaning over before jihoon could close the notebook. “again?”
chan burst into laughter, craning his neck to look. “that’s the third time this month, isn’t it? your notebook’s turning into a scrapbook.”
“it’s cute,” mingyu teased, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “you know she does it because she loves you, right?”
jihoon sighed, snapping the notebook shut. “can we focus on the lyrics?”
chan grinned, nudging mingyu. “i think he likes it, though. look at him blushing.”
“i’m not blushing,” jihoon shot back, his ears burning as he stuffed the notebook into his bag.
mingyu waved him off with a laugh. “whatever you say, loverboy. now, are you going to play us the song, or are we just here for show-and-tell?”
“the song,” jihoon muttered, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. no matter how much they teased him, he couldn’t deny how those little hearts made him feel.
later that evening, jihoon walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights welcoming him home. you were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, flipping through a book. you looked up when you heard him, your face lighting up.
“you’re home,” you light up, setting the book aside. “how was work today?”
jihoon shrugged off his bag and walked over to join you on the couch. he sat beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder as the rest of his body melts against you. he let out a tired sigh, but there was something warm and soft in his expression.
“it was fine,” he said, glancing up at you. after a beat, a small smile crept onto his face. “you doodled hearts in my notebook again.”
your eyes widened, and you immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “oh no. did the guys see?”
jihoon nodded, the memory still fresh in his mind. “mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it. chan either.”
“i’m sorry,” you said, though you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “i didn’t think they’d notice.”
jihoon shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “they notice everything. but it’s fine.”
you raised an eyebrow. “fine? you didn’t hate it?”
he let out a soft chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “hate it? no. i mean... it’s a tiny bit embarrassing, sure, but...”
“but what?” you pressed, leaning closer to him.
he glanced at you, his expression softening. “but it’s nice. it makes me think of you while i’m working.”
your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “so you do like it.”
jihoon rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “don’t push it.”
“you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, poking his cheek. “maybe i should add more next time.”
“just don’t cover up my lyrics,” he muttered, though his tone was light.
you let out a laugh, holding out your pinky.
he stared at your pinky for a moment before linking it with his, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “those little things you do... they mean a lot. even if mingyu and chan make it their mission to humiliate me over it.”
you leaned your head on his shoulder, your smile softening. “you really think so? i can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”
jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “no, don’t stop. i like it.”
you tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how earnest he sounded. “even if the guys keep teasing you about it?”
he let out a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing against yours. “let them. they can say whatever they want. it doesn’t matter.”
“why not?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
jihoon turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression warm and sincere. “because it’s you. and i love everything about you. even your silly little doodles.”
your heart skipped at his words, the quiet affection in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. you smiled, letting your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining.
“okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft. “i won’t stop, then.”
jihoon smiled back, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “good. because, i dont want you to. & honestly, i think i’d miss them if you did.”
and for a moment, the teasing and chaos of the day faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet comfort of home. the hearts you doodled might have been small, but to jihoon, they were reminders of everything he cherished about you—your love, your care, and the way you always managed to brighten his day.
#seventeen imagine#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#fanfic#seventeen x reader#woozi seventeen#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi imagine#woozi fanfic#woozi x reader#woozi#svt woozi#lee jihoon#jihoon seventeen#seventeen jihoon#jihoon x reader#lee jihoon x reader#jihoon fluff#lee jihoon fluff#jihoon imagines#lee jihoon imagines#jihoon fanfic#lee jihoon fanfic#daisymbin: reqs#daisymbin jihoon requests
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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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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.
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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."
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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):

#jsjsjs someone let me make smaus theyre kinda fun#i had so so much fun writing this#fastest fic i’ve written#k-labels#🪁 — my works#woozi#jihoon#woozi x reader#woozi x yn#woozi x y/n#woozi x gn!reader#jihoon x reader#jihoon x yn#jihoon x y/n#jihoon x gn!reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#woozi fluff#seventeen fanfic#woozi fanfic#jihoon fanfic
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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.
#svthub#svthub.collab#svt fanfiction#woozi x reader#jihoon x reader#lee jihoon x reader#kvanity#thediamondlifenet#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen x reader#svt au#svt imagine#woozi imagine#woozi au#woozi fanfic#jihoon au#jihoon fanfiction#jihoon fanfic#jihoon x you#woozi x you#svt fic#seventeen fic#woozi fic
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Pls give me never-jealous nonchalant bf! woozi getting triggered over y/n complimenting some other flirty man's voice at a party so they ended up having bathroom fun. Pls pls pls
nonchalant bf!woozi getting jealous and fucking you in the club
PREVIEW: “you think his voice’s pretty, huh?” he growled against your mouth. “wait till i’m moaning in your ear. bet you won’t think about his voice then.” you swear you almost blacked out right there. WARNINGS: smut, explicit language, degradation, rage sex, dirty talk, jealousy, penetrative sex, jihoon moaning, body fluids (cum), a bit of after care,
you didn’t think twice when the bartender slid both drinks across the counter, his smile a little too wide and his voice dripping in that syrupy charm that bartenders seemed to have on tap. he’d just finished explaining the entire menu to you like you were clueless—which, okay, you kinda were, but you could’ve done without the unnecessary flirting. whatever. you were polite, thanked him, and took your drinks to find jihoon.
the second you slid his glass onto the sticky table, you mentioned it casually. “the bartender’s got a pretty voice,” you said, not even sparing him a glance as you adjusted your skirt.
jihoon’s shoulders went rigid under his thin-ass shirt, so translucent it might as well be a goddamn window. his jaw ticked, and his eyebrows furrowed in that way that screamed i’m not jealous, but i’m absolutely fucking jealous. you could see it so clearly, like a red-hot thermometer climbing from his sneakers to the tips of his ears.
you kept talking like nothing happened, but internally, you were screaming. this wasn’t new—jihoon getting all worked up was practically a bi-weekly event—but every time he let his emotions slip? it was game over for you.
“babe,” he cut you off sharp as he grabbed your wrist, his palm burning against your skin. before you could even register what was happening, he was weaving you through the crowd, dragging you along like a man on a mission. his grip softened slightly when he remembered your ridiculous high heels, but he didn’t stop until he’d hauled you into the dingy club bathroom.
the second the door slammed shut, his lips were on yours, hot and furious. he kissed like he was trying to brand you, his hands greedy as they gripped your waist, then slid down to squeeze your ass.
“you think his voice’s pretty, huh?” he growled against your mouth. “wait till i’m moaning in your ear. bet you won’t think about his voice then.” you swear you almost blacked out right there.
“babe—”
his hand tangled in your hair, tugging it harshly enough to make your head tilt back. “nah, don’t stop now. keep talkin’ about other guys while i’m right here.”
your lipstick was completely fucked, smeared all over your mouth and probably his too. his other hand found your chest, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. you were melting, your panties already a lost cause.
“you’re so fucking easy, one kiss, and you’re dripping, hm? bet you’d let me fuck you right here if i wanted.”
before you could even catch your breath, his thigh slid between yours, pressing right on your cunt, making the wet panties slide uncomfortably through your folds. his grip on your hips was firm grounding you down against him.
“ride it.” his voice cutting through the haze clouding your brain.
your head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief.
jihoon almost laughed at your stunned expression, the corner of his mouth twitching, but his grip on your hair tightened, yanking your face closer to his. “did i fucking stutter?” he bit out, his eyes blazing. “i said, ride. it.”
a shaky breath escaped you as you tried to move, but the friction was almost nothing. his thigh was solid beneath you, unyielding, and the way he watched you like he was eating every little reaction, made you almost embarrassed.
“that’s it,” he encouraged, his hands gripping your waist to guide your movements. “show me how bad you want it.”
you whimpered, head falling against his shoulder, the dirty bathroom and the muffled bass of the club fading into the background. jihoon leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “you’re suck a needy whore. getting off on my thigh like a desperate little thing. bet you’re soakingmy jeans right now.”
you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped, loud and shameless, and jihoon groaned, his grip tightening. “yeah, that’s it. don’t hold back now. let everyone hear who’s making you feel this good.”
your fingers tangled in his hair, desperate and trembling, tugging hard enough to make him hiss. his reaction was immediate—his hands shot up to grab your wrists, pinning them against the edge of the sink, his grip firm but not cruel.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his chest pressing hard against yours as you arched into him, helpless and needy.
“jihoon,” you whimpered, your voice cracking as your face scrunched, tears threatening to spill. “i—i can’t—”
he paused, his jaw clenching as his eyes searched your face. “you can’t what?”
your lip quivered, your breath hitching as you choked out, “i need you. so bad, jihoon, it hurts.”
his expression shifted, his grip on your wrists loosening just slightly as he turned you around, pressing your chest against the sink. his hand slid down your back, as he kicked your legs apart. the panties were roughly pulled to the side. “then stop fucking whining and take it.”
the first thrust was brutal, and you cried out, your hands flying to grip the edge of the sink as the tears finally spilled over as your pussy couldn't even clench with the sudden penetration, your ears getting stuffed. jihoon groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he set a punishing pace.
“crying already? don’t tell me it’s too much.”
you sobbed when your mind came back, he yanked your hair, pulling your head back so he could see your face in the mirror. he watched the tears stream down your cheeks. “so fucking pretty when you cry.”
“hoon—!”
his teeth scraped against your ear cartilage, adn he bit down just hard enough to make you whimper, and then he exhaled—a low, shaky sound that turned into a soft moan, right in your ear.
his grip on your hair faltered for half a second, his strength stuttering, but he didn’t let go. instead, his moans got louder, the pitch rising with every thrust. they weren’t loud, but they were wrecked, so wrecked—whiny and breathless, like he was struggling to keep himself together.
“taking me so good—ah—fuck.”
you were gone. your vision blurred, spiraling in and out as the alcohol and pure lust made your knees buckle. every single one of his whiny, broken ah-ah’s sent a fresh wave of heat through your belly, clenching so hard around him it felt like you might snap.
his lips brushed your ear again, warm and damp, and he groaned—this high-pitched, desperate sound that had you dripping, the slickness already making a mess of your thighs. your breathing was ragged, chest heaving against the sink, and your legs were barely holding you up. if it weren’t for jihoon’s insane strength—his arm locked tight around your waist—you would’ve collapsed already.
“jihoon—” you sobbed, your voice weak, breaking apart at the edges. “i can’t—”
“yes, you can,” he growled, but then he moaned again, and it wasn’t just a sound. it was a melody—needy, and drawn out, his voice cracking in the middle like he couldn’t take it either.
you whimpered, your vision tunneling as the orgasm built, white-hot and relentless. your body trembled violently, your nails clawing at the edge of the sink.
“fuck, i can feel you,” he gasped, his voice strangled. “you’re so fucking close, aren’t you? you’re squeezing me so tight—shit—gonna come?”
and then he whined—the most broken, helpless sound you’d ever heard, right against your ear—and you completely fell apart. your body seized, a sob ripping from your throat as the orgasm crashed into your.
jihoon groaned, his voice cracking as he followed you, his thrusts erratic and desperate, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he panted and moaned, completely destroyed by the way you fell apart for him.
cleaning up was almost comedic, if you weren’t both still reeling from the mess you’d made of each other. jihoon tried to reach for the shitty paper dispenser, one arm still holding your waist to keep you from sliding off the sink. your upper body was basically draped over the cold marble, your legs trembling so much you couldn’t stand without him.
“can you—shit—can you move?” his hand smoothed over your rumpled skirt, trying to fix it, but it was pointless.
you groaned, your cheek smushed against the your arm. “i literally can’t. my legs are fucking noodles.”
jihoon huffed a laugh, his breath still uneven. “guess you’ll just have to stay like that.”
someone knocked on the door, hard and impatient, and jihoon’s head snapped up, his brows furrowing. “occupied!” he barked, his voice sharp enough to make whoever it was pause. when the knocking didn’t stop, he rolled his eyes and snapped, “shut the fuck up! we’ll be out when we’re out.”
you let out a weak laugh, still sprawled over the sink. “god, you’re so aggressive.”
“yeah, well, they’re annoying...” he sulked.
finally, when your legs felt a little less like jelly, you managed to push yourself up, leaning heavily on him for support. jihoon grumbled under his breath, reaching for the paper again, and this time, he managed to grab a handful.
he crouched slightly, his hands surprisingly gentle as he wiped your thighs clean, his lips quirking into a smirk when you flinched. “still sensitive, hmm?”
“shut up,” you mumbled, swatting weakly at his shoulder.
once he’d done his best with the paper towels—which, honestly, wasn’t much—he stood up, brushing your skirt down and tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “you good?”
you nodded, still a little dazed but steady enough to manage. “yeah. i think.”
he hummed, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip as he opened the bathroom door, ignoring the dirty looks from the small line that had formed outside. “what?” he snapped, his glare daring anyone to say a word.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#woozi smut#woozi reaction#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#woozi x you#woozi x y/n#jihoon smut#jihoon x reader#svt x reader#lee jihoon#woozi fanfic#jihoon fanfic#lee jihoon smut#seventeen woozi#seventeen jihoon
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Prompt no 6 , jihoon
Prompt number 6 for jihoon it is. Hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting, dear ^^

genre - romance, college au, rivals-to-lovers, drama, angst, fluffy
warning - Mild language, Emotional tension, Competitiveness, Light angst, Slow burn
(a/n - currently too traumatized with what happened with me. So I am sorry if it's not up to your mark)
"Beyond the Competition"
Chapter 1: The Rivalry Begins
The first time you met Lee Jihoon, you knew he was going to be a problem.
Not in the way that some guys were a problem—cocky, loud, or overly flirtatious. No, Jihoon was quiet, composed, and annoyingly good at everything he did. The kind of person who didn’t need to flaunt his talent because it was simply undeniable. The kind of person who, unfortunately, was in direct competition with you.
It all started in your college’s prestigious music program. You had worked hard to earn your spot, spending years honing your skills, sacrificing sleep for practice, pouring your heart into every melody you composed. And then, there was Jihoon. The prodigy. The genius. The one who somehow managed to make everything look effortless.
Your rivalry was unspoken but fierce. If there was a songwriting competition, you and Jihoon would place first and second—never in the same order twice. If there was a group project, you’d end up being the only two left standing after a brutal debate over creative direction. And if someone dared to compare the two of you, it would always end in a heated argument that left the whole class on edge.
But despite the competition, you couldn’t deny that Jihoon fascinated you. Maybe it was the way his fingers moved across piano keys like they were an extension of himself. Maybe it was the way his eyes lit up when he was truly immersed in a song. Or maybe it was just the fact that he challenged you like no one else ever had.
And that was dangerous.
You weren’t the type to back down, especially not to someone like him. But lately, you’d noticed something different. Something frustrating. Something you refused to acknowledge: you were starting to care. About him. About what he thought. About who he spent his time with.
Which was exactly why you felt a sharp pang in your chest when you saw him laughing with someone else—a girl from another class, leaning a little too close, whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle.
You looked away quickly, scolding yourself for even noticing. But Jihoon caught your reaction, a smirk tugging at his lips as he walked over.
"You're jealous," he teased, voice low enough that only you could hear. "Just admit it, you want to be the one kissing me."
Your breath caught in your throat. Heat rose to your face, but you masked it with a scoff. "Keep dreaming, Jihoon."
He chuckled, leaning in just a little closer, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I will. And I think you will too."
Damn it. This was going to be a long semester.
Chapter 2: Unwanted Distractions
You weren’t jealous. No, absolutely not. The idea was ridiculous.
At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you sat in class, tapping your pen against your notebook a little too aggressively while Jihoon chatted with the same girl from earlier. It wasn’t like you were watching them. It wasn’t like you were noticing how she kept playfully touching his arm, or how he didn’t seem to mind.
You gritted your teeth and forced your eyes back to your notes, willing yourself to focus. You had a midterm project coming up, and you weren’t about to let some stupid distraction—especially one named Lee Jihoon—mess with your performance.
“Are you even paying attention?”
You jumped slightly at the voice beside you. Your friend, Soojin, raised an eyebrow, following your gaze before smirking knowingly. “Oh. I see.”
“You see nothing,” you muttered, flipping a page in your notebook with unnecessary force.
Soojin hummed. “If you say so. But I gotta say, for someone who claims not to care, you sure do look like you’re about to set Jihoon on fire with your eyes.”
You huffed. “It’s just—ugh, never mind. He’s just annoying. That’s all.”
Soojin didn’t look convinced, but thankfully, the professor began class before she could push further. You sighed in relief and tried to focus, but of course, your brain had other plans.
Because five minutes into the lecture, Jihoon turned in his seat and caught your eye. And of course, the infuriating idiot smirked.
You immediately looked away, cheeks heating in frustration.
This was going to be harder than you thought.
Chapter 3: The Bet
The worst thing about Jihoon wasn’t that he was talented. It wasn’t even that he was always one step ahead of you. No, the worst thing about Jihoon was that he knew exactly how to get under your skin—and he enjoyed every second of it.
It was after class when he finally cornered you. “So, about your little staring problem—”
You groaned, shoving your books into your bag. “I wasn’t staring at you.”
“Sure,” Jihoon drawled, leaning against the desk beside you. “You were glaring, then. Either way, I’m flattered.”
You shot him a look. “Get over yourself.”
He grinned, clearly enjoying your irritation. “Tell you what,” he said, crossing his arms. “Let’s make a bet.”
You narrowed your eyes. “What kind of bet?”
Jihoon’s smirk widened. “We have that showcase coming up. If my song gets picked over yours, you have to admit you were jealous.”
Your jaw tightened. “And if mine gets picked?”
“I’ll admit that I was wrong about you.”
You blinked. “Wrong about what?”
Jihoon’s expression softened—just for a second, just long enough to make your heart stutter. “Wrong about thinking you’d never beat me.”
For a moment, the air between you shifted. And then he smirked again, ruining whatever strange, almost vulnerable moment had just passed. “So? Do we have a deal?”
You hated that your competitive nature made it impossible to walk away. “Fine,” you said, shaking his outstretched hand. “You’re on.”
The moment your hands touched, you felt it—that electric tension that had been simmering between you two for far too long.
Jihoon must have felt it too because, for once, he didn’t have a smug remark ready. He simply nodded, letting go of your hand.
This showcase was about to become a lot more interesting.
Chapter 4: The Pressure Builds
The days leading up to the showcase felt like they were dragging on endlessly. Every time you picked up your guitar, the melody that had once felt so natural to you now seemed like an impossible puzzle, just out of reach. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on your music, the thought of Jihoon’s smug face hovered at the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the bet you’d made.
Every practice session, every note, every chord felt like it was being scrutinized by invisible eyes, as though Jihoon himself were watching you from across the room, ready to pounce on any mistake. And the worst part? You couldn't shake the feeling that you might actually lose.
"You seem distracted," Soojin remarked one afternoon as you sat in the practice room, running through your composition for the tenth time. "Something on your mind?"
You sighed and dropped your guitar pick. "I just... I don’t know if I can beat him."
"Jihoon?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "I thought you two were rivals. Shouldn't that motivate you?"
You shrugged, picking the pick up again. "It does. But I just... I don't know. I can't stop thinking about the bet, and if I lose..." You trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought.
Soojin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "If you lose, you have to admit you’re jealous. Big deal."
"Yeah, easy for you to say," you muttered, sitting back. "It's not just about the bet. It's about proving something. To myself, mostly. I can’t let him think he’s better than me."
Soojin sat beside you and nudged your shoulder. "You do realize that the only person you're proving anything to is yourself, right? Jihoon’s not sitting there all day thinking about you. He’s probably just doing his thing and doesn't care if you win or not."
You shot her a look. "You think so?"
She grinned. "Absolutely. But you? You're clearly obsessed with beating him. So go do it. Don’t let him get under your skin."
You exhaled sharply. "I’m not obsessed," you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it.
Chapter 5: The Showcase
The day of the showcase arrived faster than you expected. It seemed like you had spent all this time stressing over every detail, and now, here you were, standing backstage, waiting for your turn to perform. The air was thick with tension, and the buzz of anticipation hung in the air.
Soojin was there, giving you a pep talk, though you were too nervous to really absorb anything she was saying.
"Just do what you do best. Don’t think about Jihoon," she said, squeezing your shoulder. "You’ve got this."
You nodded but felt a knot in your stomach.
A few moments later, the announcer called your name, and you took a deep breath before stepping onto the stage. The spotlight hit you, and you could hear the crowd murmuring, the sound of their voices mixing with your racing heartbeat.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you strummed the first chord, but as soon as you began to sing, everything else melted away. It was just you and the music, the way it should always be. Your nerves started to fade, replaced by the familiar warmth of the melody. You got lost in the song, pouring everything into each word.
When the final note hung in the air and the applause began, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. You had done your best. That was all you could ask for.
As you walked off the stage, Jihoon was waiting for you near the backstage entrance, his arms crossed. The moment your eyes met, that same damn smirk tugged at his lips.
"Not bad," he said, his voice low but amused.
You glared at him, feeling your heart race in your chest. "It’s over. Let’s just see who wins."
He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on you. "We will. And don’t think I’m not watching," he added, his voice quiet but full of challenge.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference between the two feelings.
Chapter 6: The Results
The results were announced later that evening, and the tension in the air was almost unbearable. You had performed your best, and now it was out of your hands. As the names were called one by one, your heart pounded harder in your chest.
And then, the moment arrived.
"First place, with an outstanding composition..." The announcer paused, scanning the room before continuing, "Lee Jihoon."
Your stomach sank. You tried to mask the disappointment, but it hit you harder than you had expected. The weight of the bet, of the rivalry, suddenly felt so heavy. You had lost. And now, you were going to have to admit it.
You forced a smile, clapping as Jihoon walked up to receive his award. His eyes caught yours in the crowd, and he flashed that same smug grin.
And then, to your shock, Jihoon did something unexpected. As he accepted his award, he turned to the crowd and gestured toward you.
"And a special mention to someone who pushed me harder than anyone else," he said, his voice carrying through the room. "If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have gotten this far."
You froze. Your heart skipped a beat. What was he doing?
The crowd clapped, but all you could focus on was the way Jihoon looked at you, his eyes softer now, no longer filled with that teasing, competitive edge.
You could hear the words he had spoken echoing in your mind.
"If it weren’t for them..."
He hadn't just won the bet. He had acknowledged you. And somehow, you weren’t sure if that was worse—or better.
As Jihoon made his way back to his seat, his gaze met yours once more. This time, there was no smirk. Just a look that made your breath hitch.
"Congratulations," you whispered, before you could stop yourself.
Jihoon raised an eyebrow. "You really are jealous, huh?"
Your heart skipped. “Shut up,” you muttered, but there was no anger in your voice.
And somehow, you both knew that this rivalry was far from over.
Chapter 7: The Unspoken Truth
The days after the showcase were a blur of half-hearted conversations, lingering glances, and the faint hum of unspoken tension. You couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon’s unexpected acknowledgment. The way he’d looked at you, the words he had said… they felt almost too personal, too sincere for someone who usually wore his cocky demeanor like armor.
You didn’t know how to process it, and it left you unsettled.
Despite that, you threw yourself into your studies and music, hoping to push all the strange emotions out of your mind. But of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Jihoon’s presence lingered like a shadow, his teasing smirk constantly floating in your thoughts. Even when you weren’t directly interacting, his aura had a way of infiltrating your space.
One afternoon, you were sitting outside the campus library, trying to focus on a new composition. Your fingers strummed absentmindedly, the sound of the guitar mingling with the soft chatter of students around you. It wasn’t until a familiar voice broke through the background noise that you realized you were no longer alone.
"You know, you could at least pretend not to be upset," Jihoon’s voice cut through the air, a little too smug for your taste.
You didn’t look up at him, choosing instead to keep your gaze firmly on your guitar strings. "I’m not upset," you muttered, though your voice was tight, betraying you.
"Right," Jihoon said, amusement lacing his words. He sat down next to you without asking, his body too close for comfort, but you didn’t bother moving away. "You look thrilled about losing."
You sighed, setting the guitar aside and crossing your arms. "It’s not about the stupid bet, Jihoon."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it about?"
You paused. The words that you wanted to say felt stuck in your throat, like a confession you weren’t ready to admit, even to yourself. You thought of how he had looked at you after the announcement, how he had acknowledged you when everyone else might have ignored your existence. And how much it had affected you.
"It’s just..." you started, feeling your heart race. "It’s just weird, okay? You make everything a competition, but then you go and do something like that, and it confuses me."
Jihoon was silent for a moment, watching you carefully. Then, his voice softened, just a little. "I didn’t mean to confuse you."
You shot him a look. "Well, mission accomplished," you deadpanned, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.
He smirked, leaning back against the bench. "Guess I’m just that good."
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest at his proximity. "You’re impossible."
"But you like me anyway," Jihoon replied with a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curving into that all-too-familiar smirk.
You froze. The words, the look, everything felt like a punch to the gut. You turned your face away quickly, trying to hide the heat spreading across your cheeks.
"I don’t like you," you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
"Really?" His voice was quieter now, softer, as if he were testing the waters. "Then why do you care so much?"
The question hung in the air, making you painfully aware of how close you were sitting. You stared at your hands, trying to focus on the feeling of the cool guitar in your lap, anything to distract yourself. But his words kept echoing in your head.
"Why do you care so much?"
You were about to say something, to deflect, to shut him out again, but instead, you found yourself turning to look at him. There was no smirk on his face now, no teasing glint in his eyes. For once, Jihoon looked... almost vulnerable. Almost real.
And in that moment, you wondered if maybe this rivalry, this tension between you two, had been about something else all along.
"Jihoon," you said quietly, unsure of what you were about to say. "What are we doing?"
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "I don’t know," he replied, his voice low. "But I’m starting to think it’s more than just competition."
You felt your heart skip. There it was again—the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity that wasn’t part of the act.
You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. The words you wanted to say didn’t come out. Instead, you simply stood up, grabbing your guitar and slinging the strap over your shoulder.
"I’m going to head to class," you muttered, turning quickly, desperate to escape the tension that had thickened between you two.
Jihoon didn’t stop you. He didn’t say anything else. But you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked away.
Chapter 8: The Dilemma
The days after that moment felt like walking through fog. Everything around you seemed uncertain, and your interactions with Jihoon had grown... different. He wasn’t as teasing as usual, and you weren’t as dismissive. It was as though an unspoken understanding had formed between you two, but neither of you were brave enough to acknowledge it fully.
You couldn’t stop thinking about that moment on the bench. His words lingered in your mind. "I’m starting to think it’s more than just competition."
What did that mean?
As much as you tried to bury those thoughts beneath your assignments, your rehearsals, and your day-to-day routine, they kept resurfacing. And with every passing day, it was becoming harder to ignore the growing pull you felt toward him.
The problem? You were still convinced that Jihoon wasn’t the type of person who would ever let his guard down completely. And you weren’t sure you were ready to deal with that.
But then, one afternoon, it happened.
You were sitting in the music building, doing some last-minute work before a rehearsal, when Jihoon appeared in the doorway. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice not quite as playful as it usually was.
You looked up, confused. "Hey. What’s up?"
He hesitated for a moment before walking toward you, his usual smirk absent. “Can we talk?”
Your heart skipped, your breath catching in your throat. "About what?"
“About us,” Jihoon said simply, sitting down across from you. “I think it’s time we finally figure this out.”
The world seemed to stop. He was serious. And for the first time since meeting him, you realized that you were no longer just annoyed with him. You were scared—scared of what this rivalry meant, scared of how much it had changed you.
And you were even more scared of what might happen next.
Chapter 9: The Conversation
The room felt suffocating, and yet the air between you and Jihoon was charged with an intensity you hadn’t expected. His gaze was steady, watching you like he was waiting for something—an answer, a response, a sign that you weren’t going to walk away from this.
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "What do you mean, figure this out?" you asked, your voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves creeping up your spine.
Jihoon leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that was both casual and thoughtful at the same time. "I think we both know that what’s been happening between us isn’t just competition anymore," he said, his tone quieter, more sincere than you were used to hearing. "The tension, the teasing… the way we can’t seem to stop pushing each other. It’s more than that."
Your heart was racing now, your thoughts spinning as you tried to process his words. He wasn’t just talking about the rivalry anymore. He was talking about... something else. Something deeper.
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you stared at him, trying to figure out if this was just another one of his games. But then you saw it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the honesty that had been absent in every interaction before. He wasn’t playing with you now.
Jihoon sighed, his gaze softening. "I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t plan for... whatever this is between us. But it’s there. And I can’t ignore it anymore. I think you feel it too."
You felt your chest tighten, the truth of his words sinking in. You did feel it. It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was something more complicated—something that stirred in your chest every time you looked at him, every time you heard his voice.
But the question was: What was it?
"Are you saying... that you want to stop competing?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was the only way to break the heavy silence, to give yourself a chance to breathe.
Jihoon shook his head slowly, a small, almost hesitant smile tugging at his lips. "No. I’m not saying I want to stop. But I think there’s more to it than that. Maybe it’s time we stop pretending like it’s all about being the best. Maybe we need to admit that there’s something else going on between us."
You stared at him, your heart thudding louder with every word. He was making it so much harder to stay detached, so much harder to pretend like you didn’t care. His gaze was intense, but there was something softer in it now—something that made you feel like he was waiting for you to meet him halfway.
Your mind was a whirlwind. You’d been so focused on proving yourself, on outshining him in every aspect of your work, that you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider that maybe there was something more beneath the surface. And now, as he sat there, opening up to you in a way you never thought he would, it felt like the walls you’d built around yourself were starting to crack.
"I don’t know how to do this," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I don’t know how to stop seeing you as the guy I’m supposed to beat. The guy who always makes me feel like I’m not enough."
Jihoon’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, you saw the man behind the arrogance—the one who was just as unsure as you. "I get that. I’ve been pushing you because I wanted to be the best, but somewhere along the way, I forgot that maybe... it’s not just about that."
You could feel the walls between you two starting to fall. Slowly, cautiously, you reached for your guitar again, needing to do something to steady yourself. "So, what now? What happens next?"
Jihoon shrugged, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. "I don’t know. But I think we can stop pretending. Stop pretending like this competition is all there is between us." His voice lowered slightly. "And maybe, we can figure out what else there is."
The honesty in his words hit you hard. You had spent so long trying to ignore the growing feelings between you two, but now it seemed impossible to deny. He was right—it wasn’t just about being the best anymore. There was something deeper, something raw and undeniable between you, and the thought of continuing to hide from it felt suffocating.
You set your guitar aside and turned to face him fully. "So, what are you saying? That we just... stop competing?"
Jihoon paused, his expression thoughtful. "No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying we stop making it about winning. Maybe we just see where this goes. Whatever this is."
Your breath caught in your throat. "And if it doesn’t work?"
Jihoon leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Then we deal with it. Together. But I think we owe it to ourselves to try."
A heavy silence settled between you two as his words hung in the air. The tension was still there, but it was different now—less about competition, and more about something neither of you were quite ready to name. You felt a strange mix of excitement and fear swirl in your chest, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like something you had to fight against.
For the first time, it felt like something you could give in to.
Chapter 10: The Shift
The next few weeks passed in a blur, each moment with Jihoon leaving you more confused, but strangely content. You found yourself sharing more with him—sharing your thoughts about music, your insecurities, your frustrations—things you had never allowed yourself to express before. And while your rivalry was still there, it was no longer the only thing that defined your interactions.
You started to notice little changes in him too. The way his smile wasn’t as smug anymore, the way his teasing had a gentler edge, and the way he sometimes caught your eye when you weren’t looking, as if he was checking to see if you were still there, still with him.
One afternoon, you were sitting outside again, your guitar in your lap, and Jihoon was leaning against the bench next to you, watching you as you played. There was a comfortable silence between you two, the kind you hadn’t realized you were craving.
You finished a song you’d been working on for weeks and looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "So... how’d I do?"
Jihoon didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at you with that same quiet intensity, his eyes soft but searching.
"You’re good," he said simply, his voice low. "But I think you’re even better than that."
You didn’t know what to say. His words made your heart flutter, and the way he was looking at you made it impossible to ignore the truth any longer. This wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was something else. Something that scared you, but something you couldn’t deny.
"You’re right," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’re more than this."
Jihoon smiled, and this time, it wasn’t a smirk. It was genuine, and it made your heart race even faster. "Yeah, we are."
And for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to compete anymore. You didn’t need to prove anything to him, or to yourself. Maybe there was something more between you two, something worth exploring. Something worth fighting for.
And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to see where it would go.
#lee jihoon#jihoon x reader#woozi#woozi x reader#jihoon fluff#woozi fluff#jihoon fanfic#woozi fanfic#jihoon imagines#woozi imagines#Jihoon angst#woozi angst#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst
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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: 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.”
COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted.
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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lost for words



pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader
fluff , drabble , ultimate simp jihoon
warnings : none
word count : 0.6 k
requested ? no
a/n : this is what i imagine it would sound like if woozi wrote his own "shall i compare thee to a summers day"
Jihoon is nothing short of talented. A maestro amongst artists and a musical prodigy to his peers.
He can pluck strings until they sing and make his fingertips fly across piano keys in a way that makes them melt together into a symphony. He can breathe life into a school child's recorder that could charm a brewing storm and he can fit together words like a jigsaw to reveal a lyrical masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Trust, Jihoon has no qualms over his musical competence.
But how is it that he struggles to find any combination of words suitable to the occasion? Why now does his brain falter when it thinks of ways to encompass just how much he loves you? Not a dictionary in the world would be adequate enough to measure that of which he feels.
Because what he feels for you could not possibly be contained to ink on paper, you're much too special for something as archaic as that. Everything about you is so breathtaking. An enigma he's simply been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Jihoon could carve your likeness into crystal under the moonlight and it wouldn't be nearly as mesmerizing as the real thing.
Jihoon believes you outshine even the brightest stars against a jet-black sky. He'd choose the ones in your eyes to stare at for hours over the Milky Way in a heartbeat. Your voice sings a sweeter melody than Apollo's harp on a warm summer day. One he wishes he could capture and play on a loop for all of eternity. If all of history's greatest composers put their minds to one piece, still, they could not conduct a symphony worthy of your essence.
And, oh, how you call his name has him hearing bells. You light a fire inside him like flint dragged across steel— like a bow across strings. Your hand fits into his palm like the bout of a violin and he can't get enough of the harmony you bring to his life. Just your presence alone grounds him in ways he never knew possible.
When he kisses your lips, Jihoon can taste a song so decedent it leaves him full for days. Soft and delicate touches that crescendo into passion personified pluck at the strings of his heart in the late hours. The feeling of his arms around your waist as you sleep provides an indomitable security. Your even breaths fan against his collarbone like a lullaby, easing him to sleep. Then, when he wakes, you're still there, greeting him like a songbird.
You are his muse, his life, and everything more.
Jihoon understands now why so many of history's greatest ballads are written for lovers. Because the human language is a fickle thing. Always changing, never quite perfect, unsatisfactory in the eyes of man. Music lives on for centuries beyond their composers. It is, by all definitions of the word, immortal. There will always be someone to enjoy its tune and pass it down for years to come.
A song is but a time capsule of the memories that brought it to life. And Jihoon is not a man selfish enough to deny future generations of your beauty. He would write a song a day if it meant cementing your memory in history.
If only he could find the words.
"Are you ready?" Seungcheol's deep voice pierces through the thin silence.
"Not at all." Jihoon inhales as deeply as he can in his suit that feels one away thread from being too tight, then exhales slowly. The parchment with his vows crinkles and folds at the bend between his fingers.
The words in his palm are no soliloquy, but his heart bled them with every ounce of love he could muster through shaky hands. And the gold band on his finger is a gentle reminder he has a lifetime to spend writing ballads in your honor. There are only two words he needs to worry about right now.
I do.
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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! // jihoon's m.list
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.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#woozi x reader#svt woozi#woozi#woozi seventeen#seventeen woozi#woozi fanfic#woozi imagine#jihoon angst#jihoon fluff#jihoon x reader#jihoon imagines#lee jihoon x reader#jihoon seventeen#seventeen jihoon#jihoon fanfic
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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.
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