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hannieehaee · 2 months

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luna, my beloved,

can i get a very down bad (and also very horny) woozi, please?? he just gives me the vibes of a very obsessed boyfie when he's truly in love.

also, i love your works so much!!!! ♡♡♡

18+ / mdi

content: simp!jihoon, established relationship, afab reader, smut, dry humping, very fluffy, jihoon is insanely in love with reader its disgusting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, etc.

wc: 2157

a/n: thank u so much!! <3 i rewrote this four times bc way too many scenarios of woozi being down bad plagued my brain (still do), so i hope u enjoy what i came up with <3

masterlist

even after months, jihoon was unable to understand this weird feeling in his chest. one that he only ever got when he was around you (and on occasion whenever he thought about you). it was some sort of inexplicable heaviness. the beating of his heart would speed up and it would feel as if time slowed down. every touch and every breath felt like a sensible decision, and his thoughts would turn into static.

sometimes it was just in the background. sometimes he'd hold your hand or listen to you rant about your day and still be able to act as a functioning human. but there were times in which it simply overtook him.

he had had relationships before; both physical and not, but he had never experienced this feeling before. jihoon was unsure whether or not he liked it. it made him feel weak, but also made him feel more.

there were instances in which this feeling would be accompanied by lust. one accidental peak of a sliver of skin of your thigh and his lips would go completely dry. one grace of your hand a little too close to a sensitive part of his body and his knees would buckle. he was unsure if you knew about how easily it was for you to get him ready to plea for even one touch, but the truth was that it didnt matter. there was no space in his empty head to think about it in those moments.

truth was, jihoon was insanely enamored by you. some (soonyoung) would call him 'down bad' for you, but jihoon liked his term better. being enamored entailed that jihoon adored everything about you, with the pleasure you gave him included among those things. though there were times in which his lust simply grew so big that jihoon could admit to simply being down bad horrendously for you.

currently, that feeling in his chest was ever so present, and he knew that his lust was just about to take over. nothing had yet happened, but still, he felt a desperation that brought a crimson color to his ears. just looking at you as you slept beside him had him holding in a whine of your name.

to be fair, you looked angelic in this moment. you were facing him – although your face was almost completely pressed up against your pillow. your arms were wrapped around your chest in front of you, causing your breasts to press up together in the form of soft mounds peeking from under your tank top. your blanket was covering most of your body but still gave him sight of some of your shoulder. your hair was covering most of your features yet he could still rejoice in your mushed up face as you seemingly made yourself as small as possible. soft breaths coming from you were the only thing he could hear. his senses were all overtaken by you, even as he leaned down and quietly smelled the floral scent from your shampoo.

the beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it ran the risk of waking you up.

it's not that he was nervous, he was simply too caught up in you. every emotion you ever made him feel was making its way to the surface, causing his hands to clam up and his lips to run dry. he wanted to touch you so badly, but he knew that the moment he did, he would fall to his undeniable lust for you. it was hard for him to simply adore you from a distance, as his carnal feelings for you would always take over somehow.

however, his need for you won, making an embarrassing side of himself take over and pull you closer to him in order to wake you up un the softest way he could. he began to pepper kisses on the nude sliver of skin your shoulder offered him, breathing heavily as he prepared himself for what he knew would come as soon as you arose from slumber.

it was only a few moments later in which you began waking up, murmuring his name in that soft morning voice he loved so much.

he hadn't mean to sound so desperate that soon, but the moment he felt you begin to arch against his hold, – encouraging him to keep kissing any available skin – he couldnt help his pleas to let him have you in a way he relished in knowing only he had the privilege of having you.

"a– angel, please ... need you so bad ..." were the first words out of his mouth, murmured against your neck as his hands rubbed at your hips through the blanket.

"hoonie? what's wrong?", you were clearly still half asleep, only taking in his touches but not computing the words he was saying. but it was fine. he could be more specific if need be.

"you're so soft ... so pretty. can i have you, angel? please?" he didnt care how desperate his first words to you that morning sounded. he never felt any shame in showing you just how badly he always wanted you.

"oh, hoonie ...", you breathed, removing the blanket from the way and pressing yourself even closer to him.

the two of you were now curled up against each other with no distance between your bodies as you faced one another. with your lack of clothing, – him in just boxers and you in a tiny tank top and booty shorts to match – jihoon was now able to feel you up as he wanted; something which he took advantage of immediately.

he finally disconnected his lips from your skin, now making eye contact at the close proximity between you. however, before even being able to express his want for you once more, his lust won over him again, making him press his lips against yours with urgency.

he moaned and whined against your lips, his hips searching for yours as he positioned himself above you. there was no way for him to help himself. you were just so soft and pretty and beautiful and perfect. nothing couldve possibly interrupted that cloud of lust that was taking over him.

jihoon still had trouble processing how such a pretty girl could ever be his. he knew he was in love with you since the day he met you. just from a first glance, he thought you the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. speaking to you as acquaintances had been hard, but befriending you had been the biggest challenge. even back then, his feelings for you manifested in very noticeable ways. all his friends would mock him for the way he'd stumble over his words or stare at you a little too much. luckily for him, this did not last long. by some grand act of god, you had found some sort of liking towards him, giving him various obvious openings for him to finally ask you out (and admittedly, it took a lot of silent encouragement from you to get him to finally act up).

upon starting your relationship, it didnt take long for jihoon to make his adoration for you known, constantly letting you know how perfect he found you in any and every capacity. all his defenses would go down when he was around you, causing him to wax poetic whenever his emotions took over him – not to mention the endless files of love songs he had produced since meeting you. anything you desired, he would deliver just for the promise of your happiness.

your relationship had him thinking that maybe his past self suffered a grand deal in a past life; just enough for karmic retribution to grant him the girl of his dreams in the next.

and that's how he felt at this moment, grinding his clothed cock against your cunt as you whined into his mouth. could life get better than this? better than having the love of his life mewling into his mouth as he carelessly canted his cock into the warm heaven between your legs? he couldnt help but groan at the reminder than you were all his, and that he had access to every inch of your breathtaking body for his and your pleasure.

"fuck ... wanna fuck you, but you feel so fucking good like this– shit ..."

"dont stop ... i can cum like this. promise!", you cried whilst pulling at his hair, assuring his mouth stayed glued to yours.

as much as he wanted to keep letting you lick into his mouth and pulling at his hair, he was craving the two mounds that were pressing up against his chest. without further thinking, he disconnected your lips, groaning at the way you tried to chase his lips before hearing you whine once again due to his rushed removal of your top and the feeling of his tongue toying with your tit.

he practically devoured your tits, licking and nipping at every inch of them before using the tip of his tongue to play with your nipples. the way you cried his name had him losing his inhibitions, making him grind even harder and faster against you. your gorgeous and warm cunt was the only thing in his mind.

despite wanting to give you an orgasm just like this, he needed more. he needed your cunt strangling him as he chased both your highs.

"can i fuck you? please ... i know you wanna cum like this, but i cant last ... wa– wanna last for you, but you just feel so ... so fucking good."

"please, hoonie. fuck me .."

he hadnt moved faster in his life, discarding his boxers and your shorts in order to prepare himself for you, but suddenly it hit him.

"baby ... c– condom? do you have any?", he had forgotten to buy new ones before you stayed over last night, so he was hoping against all hope that maybe you had some in your discarded bag in the living room.

"no, hoonie, i .. i don't have any," your eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but he could tell you were still lightheaded from the pleasure you had been feeling just a few moments ago.

"oh, i ... i can just dry hump you? yeah, uh, i'll just–", he couldnt help himself in sounding deflated. he wanted your cunt so fucking badly, but had stupidly used his last backup condom last night.

"or ... you can just .."

his head perked up at that, halting before even starting to grind his hips against yours again.

"baby– "

"just go without it, hoonie. i trust you," you gave him a soft smile, holding onto his cheek before pulling him down for a peck.

"oh, i ... fuck. y– you– " his brain was short circuiting. raw? you were going to let him have it raw? oh. oh, fuck.

"baby, please i need you so fucking badly."

he could never say no to you. as per usual, he gave you exactly what you wanted, ignoring how badly this moment would ruin him; corrupt him and smear his brain with thoughts of your unfiltered cunt for years to come.

and ruin him it did, as he immediately lost himself the moment he entered you, groaning at the warmth and wetness coating his cock.

"you're perfect. god, fuck ... you– you're going to ruin me, arent you? you al-already have, shit ... you're my dream ... love you so fucking much, oh fuck ... make me yours and never give me back, i– i need to be yours. need you every day, fuck, please ..." he babbled senselessly as his hips went crazy against yours, drinking in every cry you released and groaning at every scratch of your nails against his back.

he was already close from having dry humped you through his boxers while he made out with you earlier, but now he knew his end was just around the corner. begging you to cum inside was likely out of the question, but his body demanded he at least try, except you somehow beat him to it.

"baby, inside, please! need you to fill me up ... fuck, please ..."

he had no way to respond other than by crying your name against your neck, relishing on the sound of slapping skin as he chased his end inside you with the desperation of a starved man.

with multiple expletives and confessions of love hidden between cries of pleasure, the two of you came one right after the other, kissing each other all throughout your highs.

now jihoon felt nothing but unfiltered bliss. he held you in his arms and caressed your body to the best of his tired ability, continuing to tell you sweet words of affirmation as you did the same in return.

jihoon was more than fine with being obsessed with you if it meant having you all to himself like this. he would gladly get teased about being down horrendously bad for you as long as he had you in the end.

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sluttywoozi · 2 months

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Disconnected | ljh x reader

It's been three weeks since Jihoon spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.0k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, smut

Warnings: distant!neglectful!jihoon, eating issues, marriage problems, anxiety, partial solving of marriage problems, small mention of pregnancy/having kids (like one part of a sentence)

Smut Warnings: body worship, breast play, biting/marking, oral f. rec., fingering

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, there’s a shower scene where reader takes care of their hair and i believe it should work for different textures but if it doesn’t lmk, chubby but its not a plot point

You look across the dining table at Jihoon, finding him absorbed in his phone as he chews and taking the chance to stare at him for just a bit longer.

He doesn’t spare you a glance, and your eyes go to your untouched food. You haven’t been hungry lately, eating is the last thing on your mind when you’re feeling like this, when he’s spending most hours of the day at the studio, and devoting the remaining time to anyone but you.

It's been three weeks since he spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

This is the life you signed up for, you try to remind yourself, but that doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t soothe the caustic burn in your throat that always comes when you’re suppressing tears, or make his side of the bed warm when you slide under the covers alone, and it especially doesn’t remind him to text you more than the stilted responses you’ve counted yourself lucky to receive.

But here he is, tapping away at his phone and shoveling bites of the food you cooked for him into his mouth, too engrossed in whoever he’s texting to even notice your gaze on him. You doubt he’ll realize you’ve gotten up until he’s finished eating, so you scoot away from the table and take your food to the kitchen.

There’s no point in letting it sit out when you’re not going to eat it, and you’re beginning to find you can hardly even bear the smell with your stomach roiling like this. You tilt your plate over the glassware, scraping your dinner into the dish and closing the lid with a click before storing it in the fridge with a sigh.

Now that Jihoon is home and fed, you don’t really know what to do with yourself.

While he’s gone, you take care of things around the house, do some freelance writing, tell yourself that maybe today, he’ll come home and be like he used to be.

Then when he does come home and greets you with a distracted hello and a flash of a kiss on the cheek before heading into his home studio, you find yourself feeling bereft, listless, just like you do now.

You suppose you could take a shower, maybe let a few tears slip under the cover of the water, blame your red, swollen eyes on shampoo, not that he’d bother to ask. Or even notice.

With your mind only half made up, you float on mindless feet to the bedroom and peel the clothes from your body, stopping by the dresser to grab some pajamas. You can hear utensils clacking against porcelain, so you know he’s still eating and likely won’t be coming into the bathroom at least until you’re done.

You don’t know why, but when he’s distant like this, you don’t like to let him see you naked.

Maybe it’s because you already feel stripped to your nuts and bolts, maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like your Jihoon. Either way, you prefer to be clothed around him, to at least have one extra barrier between him and you lest he see how vulnerable and unguarded you are.

The shower is comforting, warm enough you can almost pretend it’s his arms around you instead, though you stop yourself every time, unwilling to endure the pain once the fantasy fades. You hug yourself, try to hold your broken pieces together as water rains down on you and tears start to bubble over.

Biting back a sob, you take in a shuddering breath and reach for your shampoo, telling yourself that you’ve gotten through this before and you will again. Every time you hear those words in your mind, they feel a little less true, a little less sure.

You step back under the flow of water, rinsing the suds from your hair and squeezing out the excess moisture before coating the strands in conditioner. It needs to sit for a few minutes so you let yourself sink down to the heated tiles of the shower basin, shifting out of the spray and resting your back against the bench.

You tuck your knees up, loosely wrapping your arms around them and staring into the mist as if it contains the solutions to all of your problems. Your mind wanders back to Jihoon, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach as you wonder how much longer you realistically can take this.

It’s not like you haven’t talked to him about it before. The first time it happened was early in your relationship, maybe around the one year mark. You suffered in silence for a month, wondering if something had changed, if he’d met someone else, if he didn’t want you like he used to. You were close to breaking it off when he finally came out of it, apologizing for going radio silent on you and telling you it wouldn’t happen again.

And for two years, it didn’t. For two years, he was perfect, and present, and near ecstatic to show you his love. Then, it happened again, though you only let it last for two and a half weeks before you sat him down and told him you needed him to come back, to figure out how to balance music and you, how to make his life with you work with his life outside of you, even when it gets busy.

He agreed, and instantly made a change for the better, showing you how willing and able he was to manage his relationship with you and his work. That’s partially why this time is so painful - you know he’s capable of putting in the effort, you just don’t know if he can recognize when he’s not.

And it might be immature, it might be selfish, it might be both, but this time, you want him to figure it out on his own. You want him to see that he’s neglecting you, and make the change without you having to ask him to, even if it means you suffer in the meantime.

You grab your comb from the ledge and start detangling your hair, almost thankful for the tears that arise because they mean you’re crying about something other than him, for once. When the comb glides, you hold it under the water to clean it off, setting it back on the ledge and begrudgingly rising to your feet.

Your head tilts back as you rinse, your hands smoothing over your hair until the silky feeling of the conditioner washes out. You give your body a good scrub, rubbing with your exfoliating gloves until you feel brand new before stepping back under the water and letting it all wash down the drain.

You stare at the running water for a while, your thoughts as difficult to pin down as the droplets racing toward the small grate in the floor. The shower won’t run cold, not with the two heaters Jihoon had installed when you were building the place, so there’s nothing but the fear of wasting water keeping you from staying in the safe, spacious cubicle for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, you didn’t grow up in a wasteful household so you can’t linger, shutting the shower off now that you’re done and reaching for your leave-ins. You layer them into your hair and squeeze out the extra water, wrapping your head up in a turbie twist and grabbing a towel from the warmer.

Draping it over your shoulders, you hug yourself again, staring at your shivering form in the slowly defogging mirror and wishing you had Jihoon to hold you instead.

Even with that wish, you still jump and suck in a sharp gasp when he appears in the doorway. Immediately, you tuck the towel around yourself, hiding your body from him and looking anywhere but into his eyes. Your shoulders bunch up in discomfort, the skin fully exposed thanks to your wrapped hair, the lingering drops of water feeling like ice under his gaze.

His eyebrows furrow, his mouth opening as if to speak, before he closes it and averts his eyes, murmuring, “I, uh… came to tell you I would be in my studio for a few hours.”

You don’t know why he’s warning you, he never does when he’s absent like this, but you quietly say, “Okay,” waiting for him to leave so you can get dressed.

Except he doesn’t. He just stands there, halfway in the door, halfway out, his gaze barely to the left of you and suddenly deep, dark, like a bottomless well.

You feel like you can’t breathe trapped in here with him like this, with your ghost of a husband. More than that, you feel exposed, your frayed nerves sparking with the urge to flee, his presence eliciting your fight or flight response. You should leave out the fight, this time, considering the fact that you’d almost rather perish than speak to him further at this moment. How far could you get, you wonder, before he’d notice?

Tomorrow, when he’s wrapped up in his work again, maybe you’ll catch a train, a plane, go somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere that isn’t here.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, his dark eyes sharp on you through the mirror, knowing.

And this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted him to figure it out on his own, to put it together without you spelling it out for him, but now that he has, you don’t know what to do. So, you just nod, grabbing your pajamas off the vanity and locking yourself in the closet so you can finally change, finally cover yourself up, finally have another barrier between you and Jihoon.

When you finish getting dressed and taking care of your hair, you find yourself almost scared to open the doors, not knowing what will be waiting for you when you come out. Still, you take a deep breath and wade through the anxiety, pushing open the doors and stopping short when you realize the bathroom is empty.

Maybe he went into his studio anyway.

Maybe he doesn’t care, maybe he’s tired of having someone who requires his attention, his affection. Maybe he doesn’t love you like he used to, and just doesn’t know how to say it.

You’ve worked yourself into a state of numb teariness by the time you enter the bedroom and find him sitting on the duvet, his head in his hands and his back to you. He jumps to his feet when he hears you, rushing over and taking hold of your hands to guide you to the bed. Confused, you let him push your shoulders down, watching as he settles on his knees in front of you and takes your hands again.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says emphatically, his voice choked up and his face tight with anguish. “I - I never should have let myself get so focused on work. I knew that I missed you, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until you left in the middle of dinner.”

Huh. You didn’t think he’d notice.

“I finally looked up from my stupid fucking phone and you were gone, and I could hear the shower running so I came to check on you, and I heard you crying,” he bites his lips between his teeth and looks away, his eyebrows pushed together and his face slowly reddening. You realize he’s trying not to cry, himself, and start to pull your hands from his so you can cup his face.

He doesn’t let you, his grip too strong for you to break and his eyes angry when he looks back at you, though you know better than to think he’s angry with you. “You shouldn’t need to comfort me right now, I should be comforting you. I’m the one that fucked up, that’s been fucking up.”

You don’t speak, assuming he wants to get all of this out at once. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “When I heard you crying, I started thinking about the past few weeks, and I realized how absent I’ve been. I can’t even remember the last time I really kissed you, and that’s ridiculous. I’m your husband, I should be kissing you and telling you I love you every single fucking day, cherishing you like you deserve, reminding you how grateful I am that you’re in my life.”

“I’m lucky you didn’t fucking leave,” he all but sobs, his face crumpling as he turns and hides his face from you in his shoulder. Again, you try to take your hands back, and this time, he lets you. He lets you cup his cheek and swipe away the tears that fell, he lets you pull him up until he’s sitting next to you, he lets you tug him into your arms and hold him close.

He shudders against you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his big arms around you, lifting and rearranging you so you’re sitting in his lap instead of next to him. You wish you could get closer but you can’t, your chest is already pressed to his and your hips are aligned, your knees folded on either side of his body as he holds you.

“I love you too much to ever leave, Jihoon,” you sigh, leaving out the fact that you did briefly consider it before bundling him up in your arms when that just makes him shudder out a sob and hold you tighter.

“I love you so fucking much, and I swear on everything, I will never let this happen again,” he promises, and this time, you really think it might be true.

You spend the rest of the night together, laying in bed. Sometimes you just stare at each other, sometimes you talk, sometimes you laugh. You even cry once out of sheer relief, a brief catharsis that makes Jihoon tear up and hold you so tight, you can’t breathe.

When it’s time to go to sleep, he strips to his boxers and wraps himself around you, his body more on your side of the bed than his. It’s like he can’t stand to be separated from you now that he’s brought himself back, now that he’s realized how far away from you he was. You think he might even climb into your skin, given the chance.

You rest better than you have in weeks, sleeping soundly through the whole night with his breaths on the back of your neck and his arms wrapped around you, and when you wake, he’s still there.

You’ve changed positions, shifted to lay on his chest with an arm and a leg thrown over his body. He’s awake already, one elbow bent behind his head as he stares at you, and after you check the time, you ask, “Don’t you have to go into the studio today?”

“No, I told them I wasn’t coming in when I woke up,” he smiles softly, tracing his fingers up and down your back, making you shiver against him.

“When did you wake up?” You ask, slightly confused because you normally rise before him, especially on days he has to work.

“Like an hour ago, had a nightmare,” he murmurs, making your eyebrows furrow in concern. His fingers stop drifting over your back and come up to smooth away the wrinkle in between your eyebrows as he says, “It’s my own fault.”

“You can’t be at fault for having a nightmare, Jihoon,” you remind him gently, tilting your face into his hand when he cups your cheek.

“I can be when the nightmare is that you packed a bag and left,” he says distantly, like his mind is far away. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since it woke me up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise him. “This just can’t happen again, especially now that we’re married.”

“I know,” he agrees in a soft voice, his face pensive. “I think we, or maybe I, should go to couples counseling.”

You hum, biting your lip as you think it over. His thumb tugs at it, pulling down until you’re no longer digging your teeth into the flesh. “I think that’s a good idea. For both of us.”

“I’ll do some research then,” he smiles down at you, brushing his thumb over your slightly indented bottom lip. You smile back, rising up on your elbow to lean in and press your lips to his.

This is the first kiss you’ve shared since the rushed, absentminded peck you got yesterday morning, and Jihoon must realize because his hand forms around your cheek again and his fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer and holding you there.

You can feel all the love, the devotion, the adoration he’s pouring into it, his sunshine glowing through the fractures in your heart and slowly filling them in, like dandelions growing in the cracks of a sidewalk.

Time slips away and your thoughts do too, your brain empty but for Jihoon as he kisses you breathless. Your elbow starts to shake, the position a bit awkward for you to be putting all of your weight on it, and he, of course, notices. You don’t expect him to roll over and brace himself above you, his body held away from yours by sheer strength, so you gasp when you find yourself under him, surrounded by him.

It’s slightly overwhelming, being so utterly ensconced by him, but you love it, would stay here huddled under him for the rest of time if you could. The world could be falling apart around you and you wouldn’t have a clue, you’re so entranced by him.

“Baby, I don’t deserve it, but… I want to show you how much I love you. Can I?” He asks sincerely, his voice wavering with emotion. You’re about to answer with a vehement yes before he continues, “If you’re not ready, I won’t ask again, I’ll let you come to me.”

You won’t remind him that this is (partially) what you’ve been wanting for the past month, instead telling him, “I’m ready, Jihoon. I want you to show me.”

His smile is nearly blinding, so wide and bright you want to shield your eyes, though you wouldn’t miss a second of this, of him, for anything.

He kisses you again, sipping from your lips like they hold the nectar of the gods, like you’re his salvation, and you kiss him back in much the same way, your eyes fluttering shut and your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

One hand delves into his hair when he trails kisses across your cheek and over your jaw, his mouth suctioning over your pulse point so he can feel your heart beat for him. And maybe it does, maybe that’s why you feel so lifeless without him, so faint, as if a strong gust of wind could blow you away.

But it’s also why you feel so vibrant now, why you’re lit up from the inside, why the effects of his love shine through every pore.

His mouth meanders to the spot under your ear that always makes you shiver, and he spends eons there, licking and sucking and biting until you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist and his name on your lips.

By the time he moves on to your breasts, you’re dazed, barely able to help him take off your pajama shirt. He has to straddle you to free up his hands and tug it off, and you come back online just in time to watch his eyes darken as they drag over your exposed skin. You’re not shy anymore, content to lay there and let him look his fill, your hands resting above your head, lifting your breasts.

His hands cover them before his lips do, his palms warm and soft where they cup the weighty flesh, squeezing gently as his thumbs brush over your pebbled nipples. He leans down to suck one into his mouth, taking deep pulls that make your back arch into him as the sensation sparks through you. He can’t seem to settle on one side, always switching so neither are neglected, your breasts marked up and spit slick by the time his kisses start to dot your stomach.

He’s always been vocal about how much he loves your belly, loves the soft pudge and the way it contracts when you laugh, loves filling it with food and covering it with kisses, would someday love to watch it grow with life. It’s no surprise when he settles between your legs and spends almost as much time on your stomach as he did on your breasts, his lips tracing every stretch mark and his teeth sinking into every curve.

You’re trembling when he finally moves on to your hips, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pajamas and starting to pull. You lift your ass to help, remembering at the last second that you put panties on too last night, unlike usual. Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind, kissing you over the fabric before pushing your legs apart and nipping a line up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

He soothes the sting with his lips and tongue, working his way up to the apex of your thighs and licking you over the fabric when he gets to your covered cunt. You’ve grown wet enough for a small patch to form on the seat of your panties, and Jihoon uses the damp material to his advantage, firming his tongue and digging it into where he knows your entrance is.

The feeling is soft, muted, but still good, and you can’t help but bring a hand down to tangle your fingers in his long, loose hair. He turns his head and presses one last kiss to your thigh before reaching up and starting to pull your panties down, his eyes heated and dark and laser focused on your pussy as it’s revealed to him.

The underwear has barely cleared your feet when he pushes your legs apart again and leans down to suck in a deep breath through his nose, smelling your arousal and groaning before dragging his tongue through your folds for a taste. The noise that escapes him now is more like a whine, a punched out sound that comes from deep within his lungs, his fingers spasming on your thighs as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

He’s barely started but you’re already moaning, already wanting for more, already on the verge of begging for his mouth around your clit or his fingers inside. He gives you neither, relearning the shape of you with lips and teeth and tongue, one of his hands shifting to your pussy so he can spread you apart and taste every square millimeter.

It feels like a lifetime before he finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and your response is instantaneous. Your back arches, your fingers clench in his hair, and your thighs snap closed around his head, making him push them apart with both hands, your pleasure soaked muscles no match for his.

He brings you up just like this, with his palms pressing your thighs apart and his mouth on your clit, sucking and tapping and licking until you feel waves of bliss wash over you in a gentle release that leaves you floating.

That’s just the beginning, you learn, as he lets one thigh fall so he can slide a finger into your still fluttering walls, his lips vibrating around your throbbing clit in a groan that you echo softly. He moves slowly, letting his finger glide in and out even though you both know you’re more than ready for another.

“Jihoon, please,” you begin, lightly tugging on his hair, about to ask him for more.

“You don’t need to beg, baby,” he murmurs into you, sinking a second finger inside on the next stroke and spreading them to open you up. It’ll take more than two fingers to prepare you for his cock after three weeks of nothing, so you lay back and relax, content in the knowledge that soon enough, you’ll have everything you want.

His fingers crook inside of you, stroking along your front wall, feeling for that patch of nerves inside that makes you gush for him. He finds it easily, his calloused, practiced fingertips rubbing and grinding into it, and you can feel the arousal seeping out of you, know it’s probably gathering in his palm now.

He doesn’t care, doesn’t ever care how messy you get him, has even said he loves being coated in you by the end, loves tasting and feeling the physical evidence of how much you want him. It’s obvious in the way he moans when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue dipping between his fingers to get a taste at the source before laving up to your clit and wrapping his lips around it.

He sucks hard, and you can tell that he’s starting to lose patience, to lose control, his hunger for you beginning to overcome his desire to be slow and gentle and sweet. That’s more than alright with you, Jihoon has spent enough time showing you how much he loves you, now you’re ready for him to show you how much he wants you too.

When he withdraws his hand and returns with a third finger, you know it won’t be long before he’s filling you with his cock, and you can feel yourself get wetter at the thought. You almost want him to just give it to you now, to work himself inside even if you have to stretch around him, even if it hurts a little.

But you know he’s on a mission so you let him carry it out, sighing at the sensation of false fullness as that burning coil starts to form in your stomach. It winds tighter and tighter as he slides his fingers in and out, every dig of his fingertips into your sweet spot making you gasp and pull his hair. Soon enough, you’re holding him in place and he’s letting you, grunting and groaning as you begin to roll your hips into his movements, his fingers precise and his mouth devastating.

Finally, the coil catches flame and snaps, making your back arch and stealing every last thought in your mind as you cum so hard, you almost force his fingers out. He’s still stronger than you though, so he fights through your tightness to keep fucking you with them, bringing you through your orgasm and slowing only when you release his hair and pet his head with clumsy hands.

When Jihoon comes to hover above you, you’re close to crying, so wrought with feelings and passion and love, you almost can’t handle it. But his face is glistening with you, practically dripping, which makes you choke out a laugh and sweep your finger along his jaw.

You had planned to wipe it off on the duvet but he takes your hand and sucks your finger into his mouth, his eyes locked with yours, the darkness in them vast enough that you fear you might get lost.

He releases your finger and presses his slick lips to yours, his tongue delving into your mouth so you can taste yourself. He cups your cheek with his non-sticky hand and tilts your head, changing the angle of the kiss and making it even deeper, eliciting a quiet moan from you as your legs hitch up on his waist and your arms wrap around his neck.

You flex your legs, trying to bring his hips down to yours, but he stays braced over you, his body still inches away when you want him to be so close, you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

“Jihoon, I want you,” you break away to breathe, gazing into his eyes and watching as he wars with himself.

“I don’t feel like I deserve you right now,” he admits solemnly, his eyelids fluttering when you shift one hand down to touch his rock hard cock.

“What if I think you do?”

“I’m glad you feel that way, but I just wanted this to be about you. I think we should wait,” he gets quieter at the end, as if he’s afraid of your response, and you can’t push him, not when it seems like he thinks you’ll be upset with him for saying no.

“Okay,” you sigh, only the slightest bit of dejection seeping into your voice, though you try not to let it come through.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers before kissing you again. “Why don’t you get the bath started while I deal with this? I’ll come join you after.”

“That’s a good plan,” you smile softly up at him, craning your neck for one last peck before he climbs off of you and lets you go.

You slide to the edge of the bed and stand, about to hobble on shaky knees over to the bathroom when he catches your hand and pulls you between his legs.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he says, his voice wavering and his eyes watery when they meet yours.

You let the words wash over you like an ocean wave, the sentiment cleansing and healing and refreshing to your still-bruised spirit.

“I love you, Jihoon,” you squeeze his hand and lean in when he pulls you, his lips meeting yours before they press to both of your cheeks and your forehead in sweet kisses.

With your heart full of love and light, you make your way into the bathroom and start the tub, focusing on the sound of rushing water and valiantly trying to ignore the muffled noises coming from the bedroom.

You’ve waited for Jihoon before, you can wait for him again.

AN: don't look at me im self soothing

My Masterlist

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seouljazzbar · 4 months

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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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wheeboo · 3 months

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shirt(less) | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon should really learn to wear a shirt whenever someone is at his place... unless you don't want him to. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. shirtless jihoon (yes, this is the MAIN warning), just reader (you guys 🫵 checking him out), a lil lil suggestive, kissing, terms of endearment, mild cursing WORD COUNT. 1.3k

notes: just a silly thought i had thanks to nana tour blessing us with shirtless clips 😚

Jihoon really isn't used to people sleeping over at his place.

It's not like he doesn't want for people to sleep over (some of his members have involuntarily slept over many, many times at some point), he's fine with people sleeping over as long as he has his own little space to decompress. His place is his safe haven, his personal castle, his own little pocket of Jihoon-ness where he could exist without the need to put on a show. Here, he could simply be Lee Jihoon.

That is, until his life started to intertwine with you.

It was a simple invitation𑁋you decided to stop by with dinner and ended up staying longer than usual, and Jihoon had offered for you to stay the night. He remembers seeing the hesitant look to your face at first, but then you agreed with a warm smile. And despite some of the nerves and shaking off the anxious thoughts realising he had just offered you to stay at his place for the first time in your early relationship, Jihoon found comfort in the fact that it was you. And that's okay.

However, he probably should've been more mindful with you staying here. When he's alone and doesn't have anyone staying over (which again, he isn't exactly used to), he's used to settling down for the night at his own pace, with his own routine, so he probably should've told you beforehand that he... doesn't sleep with a shirt on most of the time.

And no, he didn't forget that you were sleeping over; it's just that the thought simply slipped his mind and hit him the moment he had opened the door to his bedroom.

"Hoonie, do you think tomorrow we can𑁋oh my god!"

The loud shriek makes Jihoon shoot his eyes to where you stood next to his bed, noticing the blush that had quickly spread across your face as your eyes widen in surprise. He lifts a brow, before looking down at himself, and he feels the embarrassment heat up at the tips of his ears.

Oh, he's shirtless.

You find yourself standing frozen like a deer caught in headlights, mind going blank, unable to tear your eyes away from your boyfriend's chest in full display in front of you. Your cheeks are definitely burning hotter than the kimchi stew you shared for dinner earlier.

Jihoon's heart stutters in his chest. He feels a blush of his own creeping up his neck, mirroring the one painting your cheeks like a delicate rose. Shit, he wants to melt into the floorboards, disappear into the fabric of his nonexistent shirt. But instead, he stands there, frozen in the awkward form of his bedroom doorway.

"I, uh..." he stammers, voice barely above a whisper. "I usually don't sleep with a shirt on."

He knows it sounds lame, like something a teenager caught in his underwear might say. But it's the truth, the only defense he has against the heat rising in his cheeks and the sudden, unwelcome flutter in his stomach.

Your eyes might as well bulge out of your skull at this point, darting between his bare torso𑁋taking in the clean lines of his abs and the gentle curve of his shoulder blades𑁋and the open door behind him, contemplating a quick escape route that wouldn't involve jumping out of the window. A nervous laugh escapes your lips, before you snap your gaze away.

You have seen Jihoon on stage, in music videos, in photoshoots𑁋you know he has a good build, sure. But seeing him shirtless in his own private space, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, it all felt impossibly intimate. And you can't help but ogle.

"I... I didn't know," You finally let out nervously, eyes flitting back to his chest for a fleeting moment before darting away again.

His eyes meet yours, and you see a flicker of vulnerability in them. He's nervous too, You realise.

"Sorry," he mumbles in slight embarrassment. "I should've warned you."

Warned you? You almost want to laugh at that. How could anyone warn you for the sight of your boyfriend, shirtless and disheveled, standing in his bedroom doorway?

"It's okay," You assure, gathering your wits. "It's just... unexpected."

Then Jihoon lets out a chuckle. "You're acting as if you haven't seen me shirtless before. I send you gym pictu𑁋"

"Okay, b-but this is in person, so it's different!" You exclaim quickly, cutting his words off.

"So do... you want me to put on a shirt? If it makes you uncomfortable𑁋"

"No! It-it's fine, really. I mean, it's your place, and you're comfortable, right?" You interject, your words a bit too rushed. "I'll just... get used to it. It's okay. Besides, you... look really good."

Jihoon's cheeks flush even deeper. He sees the way your eyes keep flicking back to his torso, then quickly looking away, and it makes his heart race in a different way this time. It's not the nervous thump of embarrassment anymore, but something else. He steps closer to you, and you nearly stub your toe on the footboard of his bed.

“You think so?" he questions, a pinch of tease to his words.

You nod, heart still throbbing in your chest. "Yeah, I-I mean I know you work hard at the gym and that you're always practicing so I𑁋"

Jihoon cuts you off with his lips melting onto yours. It's a kiss that tastes like surprise, like nervous laughter held back, like the sweet, lingering warmth of the kimchi stew from earlier. Your hands find their way to his arms, tentatively tracing the line of his biceps, before wrapping around him and pulling him closer, your palms meeting the smooth contours of his back. The warmth of his skin against yours sends shivers down your spine, and you feel yourself melt into him, the awkwardness of the situation forgotten.

When he pulls away, his eyes are soft and locked on yours, searching for your reaction. A playful smile dances on his lips, and you can't help but return it with a breathless giggle of your own, before a yawn leaves you. You stifle it with the back of your hand, feeling your eyelids getting heavy despite the surge of electricity that coursed through you just moments ago.

"Tired?" Jihoon asks you.

"Yeah, a bit." You sit down on his bed, toying at his soft sheets with your fingers. "Lay down with me?"

The smile on his face widens just slightly, and that's enough of an answer that you need. You crawl into the bed, slipping under the covers as he climbs in beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. The bed smells like him, a comforting mix of laundry detergent and his natural scent, and you snuggle closer into his pillow, letting your exhaustion melt away.

You feel Jihoon shift right behind you, hearing a yawn of his own leave his mouth. You flip yourself around to face him, your eyes meeting his sleepy ones in the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

"Is it okay if... if we cuddle?" You whisper, a hint of shyness in your voice.

A curve of Jihoon's lips bloom like a flower opening to the morning sun.

"More than okay," he replies softly.

Then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close, his bare chest warm against yours. It's more intimate than you ever imagined your first sleepover at his place would be, yet it feels incredibly right. You let out a contented sigh as you adjust yourself in his hold, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined together under the sheets.

"Comfortable?" he murmurs, voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

"Mhm," You hum in response, nuzzling closer to him.

Some silence passes, and you take the time to listen to Jihoon's heartbeat against your ears, with a finger lightly tracing the outline of his shoulder, his skin smooth and warm under your fingertips. His breath quietly hitches from your touch.

"Mmh, babe?" You call out to him. "Can I tell you something?"

Jihoon's eyes flutter open. "Hmm?"

A tiny smirk crosses over your face, and you move yourself up in his hold to be able to whisper in his ear, your breath tickling against his skin.

"You're so pretty."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @rozisisme @rubywonu

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the-boy-meets-evil · 4 months

Text

a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off.

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds.

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred.

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends.

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say.

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?”

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth.

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask.

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow.

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it.

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.”

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say.

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?”

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face.

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under.

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?”

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes.

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him.

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak.

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.”

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not.

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now.

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says.

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?”

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.”

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments.

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns.

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this.

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it.

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees.

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want.

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?”

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.”

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?”

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“Of course it would.”

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.”

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well.

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person.

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.”

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?”

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.”

“I get that,” he says.

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits.

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart.

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned.

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.”

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide.

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug.

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all.

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized.

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream.

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace.

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen.

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it.

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you.

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask.

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows.

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.”

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake.

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?”

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.”

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.”

That’s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out.

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer.

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?”

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you.

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching.

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be.

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.”

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out.

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication.

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you.

“I think I want it all,” you whisper.

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks.

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady.

“I do.”

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into.

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly.

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable.

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down.

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed.

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time.

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees.

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need.

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!”

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager.

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says.

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing.

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit.

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says.

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.”

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over.

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you.

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again.

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.”

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you.

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.”

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles.

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.”

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits.

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft.

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.”

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start.

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say.

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.”

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,” you say, finding you do actually trust him.

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off.

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry.

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you.

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out.

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out.

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side.

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree.

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer.

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response.

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse.

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed.

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours.

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away.

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room.

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box.

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look.

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.”

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him.

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things.

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone.

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle.

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling.

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine.

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table.

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over.

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though.

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…”

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine.

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words.

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.”

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree.

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too.

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.”

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows.

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper.

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

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beomboomboom · 1 month

Text

Important

genre: fluff, angst, established relationship

pairing: idol!Jihoon x reader

summary: Jihoon is a busy guy, everyone knows that. But why does it hurt so much when he can't even make time for his own girlfriend? All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so difficult?

warnings: a bit of swearing

note: This fic includes some lyrics from the song All My Love by SEVENTEEN (If you haven't heard this song, I strongly recommend you listen to it. It's such a good song!!) I hope you enjoy reading the fic <33

"Am I really that important to you?"

There's tears in your eyes when you ask Jihoon the question you've been wondering about for the past few weeks.

Part of you knows you're just being irrational. Jihoon has other things he needs to focus on. He's an idol and a producer for fucks sake, it's practically guaranteed that he's going to be busy with work 24/7. So it's unrealistic for you to expect him to be able to make time for you whenever you feel the need for some company.

But the other part of you feels lonely. Coming home everyday to the sight of an empty apartment without Jihoon isn't exactly the most uplifting sight to see. And even when Jihoon on the rare occasion, does come home, all you are able to see is his passed out figure before he leaves in the morning while you still sleep.

All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so hard?

You receive your answer to that very question in the way Jihoon sits in a distracted silence when he hears your question. His eyes looking at his computer in a daze, too busy thinking up of ideas for new songs to produce rather than looking at the way you're about to burst into tears.

"Fine. If you can't even give me one second of your time and focus I'm going to leave," you yell angrily as more tears spring into your eyes. You quickly stand up from your position on Jihoon's couch and exit his studio, slamming the door behind you.

"WAI-" Jihoon starts to shout, finally finding his voice. His eyes widen while his hand is outstretched toward the direction of his door as if it's going to make you come back.

But it's too late.

You're gone.

Jihoon knows he fucked up.

More than that actually.

He knows that it's his fault your relationship with him feels so one-sided. He has a habit of overworking himself. Oftentimes minutes in the studio turning into hours before turning into days of being cooped up producing songs, causing him to neglect the very people he wants to spend all his time with.

Jihoon wishes he could tell you how much he loves you, that he's not trying to neglect you on purpose. He just sometimes gets caught up in his work and doesn't realize when it's time to take a break. He wishes he could tell you that he misses you as much as you miss him, even though he doesn't show it.

But now he has no idea what he could possibly do to solve the predicament he's in. Jihoon could talk with you, but he knows he's not the best with confrontation. Jihoon could give you a few days of space, but he knows that it's probably not the best choice since the whole reason you got mad was because Jihoon wasn't around you enough.

So, Jihoon turns to what he's best at doing. What he does when he doesn't have a clue on what to do.

Songwriting.

Sometimes he'll write songs for his members, comforting them through his lyrics. Other times he'll write songs for Carats, wanting to share with them some encouraging and happy tunes.

But this time, he's writing a song for you.

Jihoon knows that writing a song for you won't make you forgive him instantly, but the most he can do is try to make things better a little bit at a time.

It's 3 in the morning when you hear a knock at your front door. As the rain falls softly on your window, the only question that on your mind is, who the heck is outside your house at such an ungodly hour?

Feet shuffling along the cold floor, you sleepily walk over to your door and open it. Your sleepy eyes are still trying to make sense of the situation when Jihoon stands outside your apartment door.

In front of you stands a drenched Jihoon with puffy red eyes carrying his signature black backpack that is absolutely ginormous on him.

"Jihoon? What are you doing here?"

Mumbling something incoherently, you watch, still half-awake, as Jihoon slowly walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you.

As you feel the wetness from Jihoon's shirt begin to seep into your own shirt, you try to softly push Jihoon away. But that only makes Jihoon hug you tighter. "Don't go...,"you hear him mumble as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and that's when you realize that Jihoon is crying.

You're torn.

Seeing your boyfriend cry is a rare occurence and as much as you want to hug him tightly and kiss away all his tears, you want to run away because how can he come back to your apartment as if nothing had happened in these past few months.

"I'm sorry," Jihoon says, his voice cracking and mouth quivering, as he cries, letting his tears drop messily into the fabric of your shirt.

Taking Jihoon's face in your hands, you quietly rub away his tears which only makes him cry harder. Leaning into your touch, he takes hold of your wrist and gently rubs it. "I-I'm really sorry. You don't deserve a terrible boyfriend like me."

"No, don't say that. You know what, how about I get you a towel so that you can dry yourself off and then we can talk more, okay?

"Okay"

By the time you return from the bathroom, towel in hand, Jihoon is sitting on the couch and pulling his computer out of his bag. "oh...are you going to be working more?"

He can hear the disappointment in your voice when you ask the question, you're so used to him working all the time that you're not even angry ... you're just disappointed. Jihoon feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes that all the things you said to him before were true, he was just too busy to realize it.

"Ah, no. I have something to show you," Jihoon says with a tired smile as he pats the seat on the couch beside him, inviting you to sit.

Hesitant, you take a seat next to your boyfriend and look at his computer screen where you can see him open a file. You then watch as Jihoon pulls out a pair of earphones and plugs them into the computer.

Putting the earbuds into your ears, Jihoon presses play as his eyes shake, nervously watching your face for any kind of reaction.

The second the melody of the song plays into your ears, you feel like crying out of disbelief. "You made a song for me?" you ask, suprise etched all over your face, as you look towards Jihoon's direction.

Nodding with a small but nervous smile, Jihoon then motions for you to continue listening.

And it's when you reach the part of the song where you can hear the lyrics sung by the sweet honey voice of your boyfriend, when you begin to cry.

Just likе a pouring meteor shower Please be the light in the dark sky I can do everything for you For you I just want to give you everything And that makes me feel small, a fool who only accepts It suddenly makes me hate myself And makes me feel sorrier towards you

"Oh- Jihoon-," you start to say with tears in your eyes as you close the gap between you and Jihoon and give him a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest. "This is beautiful," you continue on to say sincerely.

Blushing, Jihoon quietly mutters with a nervous laugh, "you haven't even finished the song, listen to what i'm trying to say."

Following Jihoon's instructions, you lean on him and quickly refocus your attention back on the song.

Though it was hard writing my feelings down And all I have is this song and these lyrics For you, for you, for you, for you I sing this song for you tonight So I can get closer to your love

My love only amounts to this But my feelings will never change, for you baby Even if my love only amounts to this I'll be your umbrella in the rain I'll protect you on all your days

By the time you finish listening to Jihoon's song for you, you're in shambles. "fuck- Jihoon, I love you so much you know? I'm still mad at you but I still love you so much," you say as tears roll down your cheeks. Pressing your forehead against Jihoon's, you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

Jihoon freezes for a moment before immediately tugging you closer to his body and reciprocating your kiss. "I don't deserve someone as precious as you,"he whispers before devouring your lips into another kiss.

When both you and Jihoon finally break away from each other to get some oxygen into your lungs, Jihoon gently takes your hands into his own. "I-I'm really sorry though. I was a terrible boyfriend these past few months, but I'm going to work on trying to improve myself. Even though I'll probably be busy with producing songs, i'll try to make time for you."

You let out a relived smile when you hear Jihoon's sincere words. "Okay, and I understand if you need time for other things too."

Jihoon gives you a small nod and a smile. "And to answer your previous question, of course you're important to me. For fucks sake you're my girlfriend, you're one of the most important people in my life. How can you not be important to me?" Jihoon says while cupping your face before continuing on to say," just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."

"I love you," he finally whispers with a smile as he places a small peck on your lips.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #woozi fanfic #woozi fluff #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #woozi x you #woozi x y/n #jihoon scenarios #jihoon fluff #jihoon imagines #jihoon x reader #jihoon x you

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mingtinys · 20 days

Text

" you always come first "

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

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

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion

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vernons-girl · 2 months

Text

more | lee jihoon (woozi)

angst to fluff, suggestive?, wc:1.3k

Once again you found yourself sitting on the couch at the back of Jihoon's studio just browsing through mindless youtube videos just to get to spend some time with him.k

He was really busy because his activities with the group so he barely had any time for you, so for the two of you to be together you had to tag along with him during his late night studio escapades. It wasn’t the most romantic, that is for sure, but that’s all you could ask for knowing how hard he was trying to make everything right.

But to him it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for him. He wanted to do better, he wanted to do more, he didn’t feel like he was enough, his mind was clouded with doubt and he couldn’t help but think that you deserved better than this, that you deserved better than him.

Those thoughts were racing through his head over and over and it became impossible for him to focus on anything else.

He slowly pushed his chair back away from his desk and turned his attention to you. You looked so pretty without even trying and he asked himself how did he got so lucky for a solid minute before focusing on your sitting form. You were wearing baggy comfy clothes, including one of his hoodie that he let you borrow earlier because you were cold, your hair was in its natural state, a bit messy yet beautiful to him, a soft smile would brighten your bare face every few minutes, and with all this he still looked at you like you were the 8th wonder of the world. And in fact, you were more than this, you were his world, everything gravited around you and he lived for this feeling.

Suddenly his thoughts were cut by a sneeze coming from you.

“Bless you” he said with a chuckle.

“Thank you” you said shyly, the noise you made was definitely not as soft as you wished it was but what can you do about it, you’re still human.

“You doing okay over here?” you asked full of concern. If you were being a hundred percent honest, you were kind of worried about your boyfriend, he looked off and you couldn’t help but think you did something wrong or that you maybe didn’t do anything and that it was a problem.

“Everything’s alright love” he told you with a light nod and his signature smile.

But it wasn’t fooling you, you put your computer aside and got up to slowly make your way closer to him. You came to a stop right in front of him and gently cupped his face in your palms.

“Come on baby, tell me what’s going through that smart head of yours”, he relaxed into your touch, you always had this effect on him and he could not explain how you did it but, anytime you would lay your hand on him, he would completely melt, dropping his guard and allowing himself to be vulnerable. The fact that he only acts like this with you made the act so intimate for you two, it never failed to show how much he trusts you.

“Are you happy?” he asked looking up at your face

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I?

- I mean with me. Are you happy with me?” his gaze dropped to the floor after his question, too scared to look at your reactions, afraid of the emotion that could be painted in your face, as if all the stars he saw in your eyes would disappear before you could break his heart.

“Jihoon? What’s wrong? you asked with worry in your voice

-Please tell me you’re not unhappy with me..

- Look at me baby, please” you pleaded your lover, trying to tilt his face toward yours to get a look at his features. Once he did look up, all you saw was doubt written all over his face.

“What’s up with all those doubts? you questioned

-Listen I know I’ve been busy these past few weeks and we did not get the chance to spend that much time together and I don’t want you to think that I gave up on you, I did not gave up on us Y/N” his voice was deep but soft, almost fading away in the air as soon as the words left his mouth.

You brought yourself closer to him and took a sit right across his lap, brushing his hair out of his face before placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I know Jihon, I know.” and it was all you said before kissing him passionately.

Between you and Jihoon, love language was not limited to words and showing your love and affection for each other through acts was important because this was how you two worked the best, it was your thing, especially when you needed to chase your worries and insecurities away.

Sometimes between you and Jihoon, no words were needed.

At first taken aback by your action, Jihoon stayed still, appreciating the feeling of your lips against his. No matter what they always felt soft and plushy soft pressing on his own.

Once he regained control of himself a few seconds after he gently placed one hand on one of your thigh while the other rested at the back of your neck as he was finally returning the kiss.

Kissing him always felt like the first time. You always thought that even after years of dating your stomach will still be filled with butterflies, that you would never stop discovering the faint smell of musk lingering on his clothes. You would always feel that spark within you, discovering the feeling of his lips for the first time every time.

His kisses were soft, loving, passionate. He never needed to be rough to express the strength of his emotions.

He slowly pulled away so you two could take a breath, pressing your forehead together you felt the soft air coming from his lips tickling your own which drew a small smile your lips before he started to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, coming down to your neck.

Peppering the area with light, quick kisses he then started to suck softly on it, not necessarily leaving any mark, just wanting you to enjoy the sensation it was giving you. He sure knew what to do with those lips as your breath started to quicken, sounds that could be mistaken as moans coming out of your lips.

He pulled his lips away from your neck and made his way back to yours. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. The hand that was previously resting on your thigh was now softly massaging the area while the other went from the back of your neck to your jawline so he could take control of the kiss. It was not a question of power here, he just wanted to show you everything he was feeling and for that he needed you to just receive all he had to give.

His thumb was now rubbing small circles on your cheek as he slowed down his pace, only brushing his tongue against your lips every now and then, focusing on exclusively pressing his lips against your for loving lingering kisses. His other hand stroking your leg went up the middle of your back as he finally pulled you close to him for a tight hug.

Soft pants could be heard coming from both of you as you held onto each other for dear life.

Jihoon broke the silence :

“I love you more than anything in this universe, you know that right?” he asked, looking for reassurance in your answer.

You pulled back to look at him, letting your loving gaze rest on his you said :

“Of course I do, and I love you too, more than words can express.”

Yeah sometimes no words were needed between you two because all you needed was each other, nothing more.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #jihoon imagines #jihoon scenarios #jihoon x reader

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nonuify · 11 days

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NSFW Lee jihoon headcanons? I like your writing ! Also can I be your 😼 anon ig it isn't taken alrdy??

ᝰ.ᐟ 🗝️ — L.JH ; ! nsfw headcanons

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ smut ] | also I’m honored to have you as my anon! ꩜.

so like fucking in his studio is a norm lol, uji would just text you to come over & yall would fuck like rabbits.

also loves loves loves to cockwarm you something about his cock plunged deep inside of you while making out or if he’s busy he’ll just ask you to do it & you’d do it with your eyes closed.

he loves to orgasm on your ass, he just thinks it’s soooo pretty so see his cum painted all over your bum.

he calls you princess while making love to you idc idc he just does like “my princess taking me so well hm?” god.

oh he ADORES quickies so bad like. pre concert sex or when he’s up for a stage or reality show, he’ll pull you into the closest private room & fuck you into oblivion

I think he’s so also an ass guy, while doing it he’ll just grab a full of your bum or slap it he just ugh loves you booty too much.

he rubs his member between your thighs, it’s so hot. he’ll probably record it to masturbate on it later.

he loves when you squirt like fingering your & you gush out cum, he’ll find it so so cute and just kiss your face

with his long hair, uji would love to you to pull it like put it on a ponytail & pulling it while he eats you out.

who sends you a video of him fuckin your panties with his dick.

loves loves fucking you while you are wearing stockings omg he just touches them, if he’s really excited he’ll rip them. he’ll buy you new pairs

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! sorry if it’s shorts I hope you like this <33

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

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dirtysvthoughts · 4 months

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woozi PLAGUES my mind every hour, even when I’m sleeping…BUT RECENTLY I I can’t help to imagine literal woozi during that NANA tour highlight/teaser when they were on the yacht🙏🙏 WITH HIS QUARTER ZIPPED HOODIE AND SUNGLASSES??? I literally want him to manhandle me and play with me till I’m crying of overstimulation bcs honestly I’d get down on my knees obediently for this guy Bcs yk damn well he’s such a he wants that respect

BESTIE WHEN I TELL YOU I CANT WAIT FOR THAT EPISODE TO DROP FOR THAT ONE REASON ALONE 😭 (adding said teaser for reference 😋) he’s so hot without even trying! 😩 also you’re so real for this, the jihoon brain rot is something else

also bestie, what you said reminds me of this song i’ve been listening to nonstop: never lose me by flo milli, some of the lyrics:

“i’ve been thinkin bout you on the road, we havin rich sex on a boat, he it back to back like it’s dope..”

“you know you can call me if you need me, tell me you ain’t never ever leavin, when i suck it i look in your eyes, you better fuck me like you mean it..”

especially the “rich sex on a boat” part? we all know man’s has stacks for days, imagine him taking you for a weekend drive on his yacht, just the two of you (and a driver he hired). when you guys are far out enough to sea, that’s all it takes for him to press his lips onto yours- and it’s so very addicting.

jihoon’s hand caresses your jaw, bringing you closer to him - and you physically melt into his touch, craving more of him as he lays you down on your back, the soft cushions in the seating area coming in contact with hot body. jihoon’s removing your cover up and your bikini pieces like a starved man and your hands move to zip his hoodie all the way down, defined chest coming into view, his $18k necklace in center, dangling in front of your face.

“mmm, my baby girl,” he moans as he feels up your body, admiring your moans and cute little whines. “daddy’s gonna make you feel so good..”

all you can do is fiercely nod and bite your lip, a needy look on your face that has jihoon going feral. he’s rushing to take off his shorts and boxers so he can give it to you.

which he does, because mere minutes later, he has you nearly screaming, tears brimming your eyelids from how intense his thrusts were. “j-jihoon! mmm, i can’t, daddy, i c-can’t hold it anymore!” but before he can say anything, you feel you juices spread down your legs and all over jihoon’s dick.

“shit, hoon, i’m sorry, but i couldn’t take it anymore,” you whine, desperately hoping he wouldn’t be too upset. he scoffs as he brings your knees up, his face going to your wet folds. “wait, jihoon- ah!” you gasp out as his tongue licks you up and down, smirking at how loud you were becoming and how you were pulling on his hair to bring your closer to another orgasm.

jihoon continues to lap at you until you come get again, this time all over his lips and chin. when he comes up from between your legs, he licks his lips seductively, watching how your eyes refused to leave his tongue. he goes right back to where it all started off, kissing you so you can know how good you taste. it’s messier and a little sloppy than last time, but you love it so much.

when you pull away, he holds you by your waist as you look into his eyes, “think you can come for me again? i wanna finger your cute little cunt while you whine out my name.. you make it sound so pretty, baby girl.”

“i’ll come as many times as you want daddy.”

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seungcheorry · 1 month

Text

woozi putting an expensive bag in front of you without saying a word, during a dinner. you lift an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs, going back to the menu in his hands - he pretends he doesn't know that you know he's just acting like the gift isn't a big deal, like he isn't nervous on the inside.

woozi trying not to smile when he sees your reaction at the new wearables he bought for you (earphones, new charger, everything you complained that it wasn't functioning right). the way you gasp and look at him like you're annoyed... god, it makes him fall in love all over again.

"why?", you ask him. again, woozi shrugs. there's not really a reason, but if he had to give you one... "because you need those? because you're broke?", he jokes. "because i love you?".

and he does, so much.

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hannieehaee · 23 days

Note

Can you write something, anything, about woozi and his ass cuz that one clip of 96z shaking their ass has made me into a whole new person. Literally just Lee jihoon ass appreciation.

18+ / mdi

content: sub!woozi, afab reader, smut, reader is extremely horny and depraved, the word pretty is overused, body worship, woozi is thoroughly felt up (oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1139

a/n: U AND ME BOTH ANON

masterlist

"w-wait slow down."

these were a few of the last coherent words jihoon would let out that night.

or at least that was the plan. especially considering his egregious behavior mere hours ago.

you see, you knew your boyfriend's body like the back of your hand. you had kissed and worshiped every inch of his skin, leaving no part untouched at some point or other.

however, this past month, you had been unable to relish in the privilege that was to have lee jihoon's body at your utmost disposition. work had kept you away from him, leaving you sad and lonely and without his pretty body to gawk at for an entire month.

finally being back, you were slightly peeved off at knowing he'd have back to back concerts for a few days just on the week of your arrival, but it was fine! as long as you got to keep him to yourself afterwards, it was okay.

it was okay until it wasn't. until the moment you saw him step out on stage, tight button up on, blonde hair up in a bun, and the worst of all, the most fitting brown slacks you had ever seen on your boyfriend. the sight made you feel like a caveman, no coherent word leaving your mouth as you gawked at him like a piece of meat.

you watched as he swayed his hips, showing off every delicious curve of his body, taunting you without so much as realizing.

it had been an extraneous three hours (damn you, never ending aju nice) until you were able to get him in a car and back home.

the moment you stepped foot into your shared apartment was when you began your attack, pushing him up against the wall and shutting up any question leaving his mouth with your tongue down his throat.

your hands were frantic, feeling him up like you were starved for his touch – and you very much were. your wandering hands groped at every curve, swallowing every gasp of delight let out against your lips.

when you finally disconnected for some air, trailing your lips down to his neck, he gasped out his request to slow down, but you simply couldnt. you needed every inch of his body marked by your kiss, touched by your hand, licked by your tongue.

finally pulling away completely, you dragged him over to the couch, sitting him down and crawling your way on top of him after having carelessly discarded your clothes. he followed without instruction, throwing off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, unable to get them all the way off as you sat on him.

your lips went back to his, hands still frantically feeling him up, scratching at the milky skin of his toned chest.

"so pretty, hoonie. fuck ... do you even know how gorgeous you are?", your lips trailed down to his chest, careless splotches of red left behind by your teeth as you marked your territory.

"prettiest thing ... looked so good on stage ... wanted to fuck you so bad," you groaned against his nipple, licking at it as he cried out above you.

"s-stop it," he complained, too shy to take your shameless praise.

"wanna see you, pretty. wanna see your gorgeous body, yeah? so fucking sexy ... make me feel like im losing my mind ..."

without even realizing it, your hips had begun grinding against his crotch, hands digging into his shoulders for support. his strong arms held your waist, helping you maintain your pace.

fuck, he was so meaty and strong. the thought alone made your eyes roll back.

despite the pleasure of his delicious cock dragging against your cunt, you needed to change positions. you couldnt ride him tonight. you needed to feel him up so more, up until getting your fill of him.

flipping him around (with his help ..), you laid on the couch, with him now above you. you bit your lip at the sight. his pretty hair was covering the sides of his face, making him look like an angel from above you. you voiced this compliment to him, making him scoff and scrunch up his nose in embarrassment.

"hoonie ... fuck, so fucking pretty and sexy. so obsessed with you ...", you groaned, hands reaching back to squeeze at his ass and drag him against you.

"no, i- fuck. you .. you're the pretty one, i-", he hiccuped opting to bury his face in your neck before you could see his reddened cheeks.

as embarrassed as he was at your blatant comments, he also relished in it, allowing you to touch him in such ways and even following the guidance of your movements as he ground against you, your hands still grasping harshly at his ass.

your hands went up and down the delicious arch of his back, groaning at the thought of how pretty he'd look on all fours for you, gorgeous body ready for you to do whatever you wanted to it.

but that would come some other day. right now you needed him to get his dick in you and make you lose all ability to think.

slipping inside you, he groaned against your ear, humping against you thoughtlessly. the contrast between the controlled movement of his hips on stage made you chuckle, enjoying how his desire would make him lose control so easily.

"feel so good, shit- you- love you," he murmured against you, "d-don't stop touching me ... love when you touch me ... when you love me like this."

your hands went even crazier at his admission, digging your nails into every bit of skin you could reach and dragging his hips towards you.

"my pretty boy ... body's so fucking gorgeous. and you're all mine? fuck ... prettiest little thing all mine ...", you gasped against his ear, making his pace go even faster at your endless praise. your hands never stopped feeling him up, dragging his toned body against your own as he showed the telltale signs of his orgasm.

with a high pitched whine, he came inside you, with you joining him right after. the sight of him alone had you pent up for hours, so cumming with him was an effortless task.

falling halfway on top of you, he cuddled against you, kissing at your neck before nuzzling into your hair.

"love you," he whispered.

"love you too, pretty," you whispered back, "but i'm not done with you yet ..."

the rest of the night was spent productively. your lips found every inch of skin on his body, leaving love bites on all your favorite parts. by the end of the night, his hips were unrecognizable with pretty red marks left by your lips. his chest and back were red due to all the grabbing your hands couldnt help themselves with. and jihoon? he was sleeping with a satisfied smile on his face.

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sluttywoozi · 29 days

Text

Somewhere In The Middle | ljh x f!reader

Somewhere in the middle, I think I lied a little I said if we took it there I wasn't gonna change, But that went out the window

You and Jihoon started as roommates and naturally became best friends. After a breakup and a little too much wine, you become best friends who kiss, but there's no danger there... right?

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.7k | Pairing: ljh x f!reader

Genre: romance, smut, best friends/idiots to fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mention of a breakup, alcohol use, besties to besties with benies to lovers, jealous/possessive jihoon, depiction of a nightmare (lots of water involved but no drowning), appetite issues/food eating, hurt/comfort

Smut Warnings: dom!jihoon, dirty talk, manhandling, strength kink, dumbification, breast/nipple play, oral r. rec., fingerfucking, biting, multiple orgasms, piv sex, creampie, pet names (princess, good girl), allusions to f. masturbation, reader goes into subspace a lil

Reader Notes: sub, taller than Jihoon, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by jihoon, on some form of birth control, crybaby, she’s smart i swear being around jihoon just makes her dumb

You and Jihoon have been roommates for three years and best friends for two and a half when It happens.

It’s nearing midnight and most of the lights are off, the glare of the TV illuminating the room though it’s been muted for the past hour. You’re drunk on the couch and for once, Jihoon is drunk with you, helping you lament the shitty boyfriend you finally ditched.

Well, the shitty boyfriend who ditched you.

It stings that he was the one to end things, prickles to admit that maybe you had some hand in the crashing and burning of the relationship, but you still feel valid enough in his faults to complain to Jihoon about it on this dreary Friday night.

“We hadn’t even kissed in like… weeks. And sex? I counted myself lucky he didn’t seem interested, he was that disappointing,” you bemoan, dropping your head on his shoulder and hugging his arm to your chest. Jihoon doesn’t love physical contact, but you’ve worn him down and now, you’re the only person he allows free reign.

You think he even likes it at this point, especially when he presses his cheek to your head and sighs, “Men are the worst.”

“You’re a man, Jihoon,” you remind him, tilting your head up to glance at him, dislodging his cheek and making him look down at you.

“Yeah, but I don’t count, do I?” He says sardonically, knocking his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know anymore,” you mumble. “I just miss kissing, and being touched, and-,” you hiccup, though whether it’s due to tears or to drink, you don’t know. “And I miss someone loving me.”

Your eyes are misty now, Jihoon’s face blurry even though it’s inches from yours.

“You know I love you, right?” He asks softly, and you try to smile through the tears, appreciative of him for attempting to make you feel better.

“Yeah, but not like that,” you remind him, your eyes fluttering shut and your lips pouting.

“But I could kiss you like I do.”

You peek one eye open, blinking away the saltwater in your eyes, not even flinching when he brings a hand up to wipe it away from your cheek.

“You could?”

“I could,” he nods, his brows drawn together and his mouth tight. “I don’t want you to suffer like this when I can fix it.”

You think it through for a split second, consider the fact that Jihoon is your roommate, your best friend, and decide that you don’t care.

“Okay,” you whisper, fragility clear in your voice and in the fingers suddenly clutching at his shirt.

“Just… promise me nothing will change, that we’ll still be us after,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you until his lips are a breath from yours.

“I promise,” you tell him, though in the back of your mind, something whispers that it already has.

Then he kisses you, and your brain goes perfectly silent.

All you can feel is him, his palm on your face, his fingers in your hair, his soft lips sipping at yours like the wine you downed together just an hour ago.

The room is quiet, filled only with your breathing and his, and every sensation is heightened by the peace surrounding you.

His hand tilts your face, changing the angle as he glides his tongue along your bottom lip, and when you gasp, it darts inside, learning, exploring.

Jihoon is lazy, you both know this, but apparently he’s the very opposite when it comes to kissing you because before long, he’s devouring you with vigor, panting into your mouth like he can’t catch his breath, searching like you’ve stolen it.

You’re not faring much better, your grip tight on his shirt and your cheek hot under his hand, forgetting to even breathe as he kisses you stupid. Literally, you feel dumb with it, empty headed, no thoughts occupying your mind except for Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon.

You suck in air when he rips his mouth away from yours, his fingers in your hair holding you back so you don’t follow him as his chest rises and falls erratically, a blush creeping up his neck and along his ears.

“You should get to bed,” he whispers, his eyes hooded and his voice rough.

“Yeah, I suppose I should,” you agree, even though you want to kiss him more, want him to take you apart, if you’re being honest. But something tells you not to push him this first night, not to ask for too much.

So you tease him instead, murmuring, “Tuck me in?” only to gape at him when he slides off the couch and takes hold of your hand, tugging you up off the sofa and to your room.

He waits on your bed as you half ass your skincare, handing you pajamas when you ask for them and getting up when you emerge from the bathroom. You climb under the duvet, think for just a second about asking him to join you, and whisper, “Goodnight, Jihoon.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers back, before leaning in close and pressing his lips to yours one last time, mumbling into your mouth, “One for the road.”

After he leaves, you fall into sleep slowly, and when you do, it’s deep, dotted with dreams that taste like him.

True to your word, nothing really changes.

Except for the fact that you just… kiss now.

When you’re tired, when you’re stressed, when you’re sad, when you’re needy.

All it takes is a look and a little pout, and Jihoon is shaking his head and pressing his mouth to yours, his hand firm on your cheek and his tongue dancing over your bottom lip. You find yourself craving him when you’re at work or around friends or sometimes in your sleep, dreams full of feeling your body under his and his arms around you.

Your kisses haven’t progressed to that yet, though you’re hoping they will soon. He usually keeps them chaste, but there are times you can tell he wants to take it further, by the way he holds your chin and angles your head so he can kiss you deeper, dirtier.

Just two weeks after that night, he’s become a habit you can’t quit.

It’s gotten to the point where he greets you with a smooch when you come home from work, a peck when you finish making dinner together, a soft kiss before you go to sleep in separate rooms.

Most of the time, you wish you could follow him into his bedroom, climb into his bed and his arms and his ribcage, squish right in next to his big, juicy heart. But you promised nothing would change, that you and Jihoon would still be you and Jihoon, and you know that if you delete the spaces between you, it would change everything.

So you content yourself with his kisses, with the little touches you steal as often as you can, with the knowledge that at the end of the day, you do have someone who loves you, even if he doesn’t love you like that.

You’re laying on the couch with Jihoon, your legs resting on top of his thighs and his big hand warm on your ankle, when he asks you if anything interesting happened at work.

Normally, you would have nothing to share, but today, something exciting did happen.

“Oh! Yeah, actually, Jun from Accounting asked me out on a date,” you gush, your legs bouncing until his hand tightens into a near painful grip.

“I didn’t know you were looking to date again,” he says pensively, his eyes suddenly on the TV and away from yours.

“I mean, I’m not really, but he’s cute and sweet and I miss sex,” you sigh wistfully, letting your cheek rest on the back of the couch as you watch his jaw clench and unclench.

“What did I say when I told you I could kiss you like I love you?” He asks, his gaze on you again and so much heavier than before, so much weightier and darker. You can almost feel it like a physical touch, the way it roves over you, assessing.

You try to wrack your brain but you come up empty, an unfortunate occurrence when it comes to Jihoon.

“I don’t remember,” you respond honestly, your main memory of that night being the kiss.

“I said, ‘I don’t want you to suffer like this when I can fix it,’” he reminds you, before continuing, “You don’t know if this Jun guy will be any good, and I don’t want him to disappoint you.”

Your breath stalls in your chest at what you think he’s implying, but you need him to clarify before you jump to your own conclusions, fueled by delusion and desire as they might be.

“So… what are you saying?” You ask slowly, pushing down the hope and heat rising within you.

“I’m saying that I’ll take care of you. You miss being touched? You miss being fucked? Let me be the one, not some rando who might not even be able to make you cum.”

Fuck. He’s so- You don’t even know what he is at this point.

You sort of feel the need to leap to Jun’s defense, but by the fire in Jihoon’s eyes, you think that would be the wrong move to make right now. You also don’t know if you can speak, with your tongue tied by lust as it is.

He’s still staring at you, his face unreadable but his hand hot, tight on your ankle, like if you tried to get away, he wouldn’t let you.

That won’t be happening, not when all you want to do is crawl closer, into his lap maybe so you can feel his chest against yours and his heat between your legs, so he can pull you into him and show you just how well he can take care of you.

“Okay,” you breathe out, because you need to respond sooner or later, and that’s the only word you can summon at this moment in time.

“Tell Jun you won’t be going out with him,” Jihoon commands, and you bristle at his domineering tone but you also feel yourself clench, just a little. You acquiesce all the same.

hey Jun! i have to say no to your offer, i just don’t really like to mix business with romance, I’m sorry ☹️

“Done?” He asks, waiting for your nod to swipe your phone out of your hands, put it on Do Not Disturb, and slide it between the couch cushions before yanking you toward him by the grip he has on your ankle.

“Hey!” You exclaim, out of breath and full of indignation. “Don’t be rude.”

“We’ve been best friends for two and a half years, you think I don’t know what you like by now?” He asks rhetorically. “You like getting manhandled, like being talked down to, and then you like being treated like the pretty little princess you are. Am I wrong?”

God, he’s so hot. You hate him.

“No,” you answer petulantly. “You’re not wrong,” you continue when he raises an eyebrow and loosens his touch.

You barely even recognize Jihoon right now, he’s being so cocky and mean and sexy. The smirk he sends you makes you shiver, or maybe it’s the fingers swiftly smoothing up your leg. Curse your little pajama shorts and curse his big, warm hands.

He’s just about to reach your panties when you whisper, “Wait!”

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are sharp on yours, his hand frozen as he evaluates you for misgivings and anxieties.

“Just-,” you sigh and wriggle a little bit in shyness. “Not here, I can get… messy.”

His smirk is back and bigger than ever as he shoves your legs off his lap, stands, and leans down to haul you over his shoulder, making you gasp and cling to him for dear life.

“Jihoon, I’m too-“

“I squat 450, babe, you’re fine,” his palm cracks down on your ass as he speaks, both his words and his touch making you whimper.

You assume he’ll take you to your bed but he takes you to his instead, and when he roughly deposits you on his comforter and pushes your hands to rest above your head, all you can do is stare as he yanks his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

You see him topless often enough, but in this context, it’s different. You actually get to look this time, and you let your eyes travel slowly over every inch of pale skin and muscle, feeling your center start to throb when he palms his growing cock and slides his own little pajama shorts down.

He leaves on his boxer briefs and sets a knee on the bed, slowly climbing over you until he’s got his hands bracketing your head and his knees spreading your thighs. You’re surrounded by him, his scent overpowering in the best way now that you’re in his bed and under his body.

This is exactly where you’ve wanted to be for weeks, but now that you’re here, you find you’re feeling a little nervous. Jihoon, obviously, can read you like a book and asks in a low voice, “Would it help if I told you what I’m going to do?”

“Um, yes,” you answer, because of course it’ll help, in more ways than one. “You already know?”

“I have the makings of a plan. First, I think I’ll kiss you until your head is too empty for nerves. After that, I’ll play with your tits until you’re crying for me. Then, I’ll eat you out until you cum, and fuck you with my fingers until you cum again,” his voice is low, seductive enough that you’re nodding without even realizing it, close to begging before he’s even gotten started.

“And then you’ll fuck me?” You ask weakly, feeling small under him even though you’re taller than him in actuality.

“Maybe. If I feel like you’ve earned it,” he teases, or at least you hope he’s teasing, because if he doesn’t give you his dick tonight, you think you might go crazy.

“I feel better, I think,” you whisper faintly, and you actually do, now that you know how he’s going to take care of you, what he’s going to do to you.

“Good, that’s the goal here.”

He almost smiles, you can see his lips twitching, but he doesn’t let them stretch in a grin. Instead, he slowly lowers his body to lay over yours, dropping to his elbows and letting his legs relax so he’s pressed up against you, weighing you down to the bed. You feel safe, secure like this, and you can’t help but sigh into Jihoon’s mouth when his lips meet yours, a soft, relieved sigh born from knowing you’re in good hands.

Good, large, warm hands, one petting your head and the other cupping your jaw to pull you into his kiss, as if you need any encouragement. He’s gentle until he’s not, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and his mouth sucking at the sting, his tongue pushing between your lips when they open on a gasp.

You feel more than hear his groan when you shyly glide your tongue against his, the sound rumbling through your mouth and straight down to your core. You’re already throbbing, just from this, and you can’t believe you’ll have to endure his evil, delicious mouth on your tits when he’s finally deemed you brainless enough to move on.

It won’t be long before that happens, you already know, because your thoughts are starting to sift through your fingers like sand, too hazy to pin down and not important enough to try. A voice in the back of your mind whispers this will ruin you, but then he does something with his tongue that makes your breath catch and your pussy clench, and the voice goes silent.

In fact, every racing thought in your mind is gone, eroded by Jihoon’s whirlwind, and you actually whine when he pulls away, your kiss-swollen lips open and attempting to chase him for more. He doesn’t let you, shifting back to sit on his knees and pulling you up with him so he can wrench off your tank top and flimsy bralette.

He lets out a shaky sigh, his eyes caught on the rise and fall of your tits as you try to regulate your breathing, before pushing you back down with a firm hand on your shoulder. He keeps the other on your waist, preventing you from just collapsing back on the bed, and follows you with his body, his gaze heady and his lips parted.

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bringing his fingers up to pluck and squeeze at the other, both of them pebbling under his attention. They’re extra sensitive today for some reason, but that might just be because it’s Jihoon touching them, wrapping his lips around them, warming them with the heat of his mouth and fingers.

Time slips away as he works you over, his tongue plush and soft and fever hot on your tits, his fingers unrelenting, just on the right side of mean as he twists and pinches whichever nipple isn’t in his mouth. He alternates every so often, never leaving a side neglected, and eventually gets into a rhythm that has you whimpering and arching into him, begging him with your body to keep going.

You can’t feel how wet you are with your legs spread by his body like this, but you have to be soaking by now with the way your cunt is fluttering, your walls squeezing down on nothing as he sucks and bites and worries at your breasts with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You already want him to make you cum so bad, and you distantly remember what he said just a little bit ago.

Until you’re crying for me.

Well, you can certainly do that. The tears are already rising to your eyes, already burning in your throat, making your breath hitch and your chest stutter beneath him. You don’t know when you closed your eyes but they’re bleary when you open them, your lashes lined with saltwater as you look down at him.

He’s looking at you, probably has been this whole time, and when he sees the first tear fall, he pops off your nipple and presses his smirk into your breast, his hand still firm on the other.

“Jihoon, please,” you whisper thickly, and for a moment, you’re scared he’ll make you outline what you’re asking for. He doesn’t, thankfully, just shifts back up on his knees to admire his handiwork. You can only imagine the picture you must make, your chest covered in his teeth marks and your nipples swollen and spit-slick, your eyes half-lidded with desire and need, not a single critical thought behind them.

He visibly collects himself, taking in a deep breath and letting it flow out as he tucks his fingertips in the waistband of your shorts and panties. You don’t have enough brain power to think of lifting your hips to help him so he pulls them up with one hand and wrenches your pajamas down with the other, dropping you back down to the bed when they’ve cleared your ass and he can tug them the rest of the way off.

Your legs have bent in the process, your feet resting on his knees, and he takes hold of your ankles, straightening your legs out before dragging his hands up and setting them on your thighs. You expect him to push them apart, to move you like he has been, but instead he says, “Show me.”

You’re past being shy but you still feel a little vulnerable, so it takes you a few breaths to slowly spread your legs. The air clings to your arousal, cool compared to your heat, and the longer he stares, the faster your heart beats. His hands press to your inner thighs, keeping them apart so he can memorize every inch of you.

“Fuck,” he exhales laboriously. “You weren’t kidding.”

“About what?” You ask tremulously, with not even a bit of a clue as to what he’s talking about.

“About getting messy. You’re so fucking wet, I think I could slide in right now,” he sounds far away, like he’s imagining it, picturing himself sinking his cock into you, filling you up to the brim.

Now you’re picturing it too, and your thighs try to squeeze together to soothe the ache between your legs but he’s still holding them open, and he’s too strong for you to even bother fighting his grip.

“Maybe you should,” you moan enticingly, one hand leaving its place above your head to drift over your body and down to your pussy. It doesn’t get that far, not when he levels a stern, warning look at you, one that makes your clit pulse and your heart race.

Adequately discouraged, you bring your hand back up and lace your fingers together, leaving you spread out and powerless beneath him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t hide the way the words light you up inside, make you want to be even more compliant for him, make you want to be so good you become his best girl.

He smirks at your response, a look in his eye like he’s filing every little reaction away for the future, hope blooming in your chest that maybe there will be a future. You can admit that you don’t want this to be the only time, your first and last with him.

(What you can’t admit yet is that this is already more than sex for you.)

Fuck, your thoughts are coming back, no longer so nebulous and murky, now too solid for you to swim through like before. You know Jihoon can see it in your gaze, and he moves so quickly, you can hardly make sense of it.

Before you can take another breath, he’s on his belly between your legs, your thighs still pushed apart by his hands as he all but dives into your dripping pussy. You don’t know what you expected but it definitely wasn’t this, his tongue pushing inside of you, reaching as far as it can go and licking your walls on its way out, his nose grazing your clit with every jerk of his chin into you. It feels like actual heaven, his tongue so lithe and agile and smooth as it fucks in and out of you, sparks zipping through your veins with every drag of his nose over your clit.

He refocuses his attention, his mouth shifting to suck gently at the bundle of nerves, lulling you into a dreamy state driven by soft pressure and the vibrations of his little groans around you. Your head is finally, blissfully empty again, and Jihoon seems to be able to sense the switch, because he starts sucking harder, flicking his tongue back and forth over the bud until it has its own heartbeat.

You lift your head up, tucking your chin into your chest so you can watch him, his dark hair against your thighs, his face between your legs, that smart mouth wrapped around you.

You’ve never cum from just oral before, but you’ve also never had someone eat you out with so much dedication, so much fervor, and everything is made better by the fact that it’s not just someone, it’s Jihoon.

Jihoon, your best friend who you sometimes miss even when he’s sitting right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his arm around your shoulders.

Jihoon, your roommate who you occasionally stare at for just a bit too long when he stumbles into the kitchen wearing only his little shorts and a serious case of bedhead.

Jihoon, your Jihoon.

Suddenly, the wave is building, sucking you into its undertow, and you can’t keep your head up or your eyes open as pleasure grows and grows and grows until finally, the wave crests. It might have been your thoughts, it might have been the heady groan that reverberated around your clit, it might have been both. Either way, you’re lost under the surface in a sea of bliss, and when Jihoon breaks away and gets his knees under him, you assume it’s to offer you a hand, to help pull you out.

And then you feel that hand petting over your sensitive pussy, feel the drag of his fingertips over your clit, and you realize he’s not going to pull you out, he’s going to drown you further.

One finger slides inside of you, longer and thicker than your own, giving you something to clench down on as your walls continue to spasm with aftershocks of your orgasm. He bites out a swear, and internally you preen at his reaction to feeling you for the first time. Externally, you can only buck your hips into his touch and whine something that sounds like his name as he pulls his finger out and returns with two.

The fullness makes you sigh, the feeling of warm flesh and bone decadent after months of silicone, and when he crooks those fingers inside of you and starts searching, you know you’re done for.

You can’t ever find your g-spot on your own, your fingers are too short and your toys aren’t shaped right, and the second he locks in, you know he won’t stop. He’s the same when he’s writing a song - once he finds his flow, he could be lost to you for hours, days, weeks. The thought of him devoting that same focus to you sends a flash of electricity down your spine, one that ends with a squeeze of your cunt around him.

You can feel his eyes on you and blink your own open to meet his gaze, the eye contact hypnotizing, consuming. The next curl of his fingers brushes something inside of you that makes your face crumple, makes you forget how to breathe, and his stare grows determined as he taps his fingertips in the same spot. Instantly, you feel yourself get wetter, feel it seep out around his fingers and drip down your ass to his bed, and his face grows darker somehow, his stare penetrating and possessive.

He leaves the sensitive patch alone for a little bit, sliding his fingers in and out, getting you used to the rhythm and the sensation of being fucked with them, and then he starts grinding into it with every thrust, the muscles of his arm flexing as his pace rockets up. It sounds fucking obscene, the squelch of your soaking cunt around his fingers, especially paired with your breathy, high pitched noises, your whines and whimpers and gasps.

You’re already getting close again, but you don’t want to cum so soon, don’t want this to be over if he decides you haven’t earned his cock.

“Jihoon!” You squeak, squirming beneath him in pained pleasure, though you can’t get anywhere with his hand pressing your thigh down and his fingers filling you up.

“Be a good girl and take it for me, hm?” His voice is so low and rough, you almost don’t recognize it, but you listen anyway, trying your best to be still under his siege because all you want is to be good for him, for only him.

“There we go, that’s my girl,” he murmurs under his breath, his words like a live wire snaking around your throat, stealing your voice and leaving you to shudder beneath him as he works a third finger in and sets his thumb on your clit.

You wonder if he’s stretching you out to fuck you, or if he just remembers you tipsily spilling to him that you prefer to cum on three instead of two. You don’t want to get your hopes up so you stop thinking, just lay there and take it, exactly like he said. His knuckles pound against the lips of your cunt as he fucks you hard with his fingers, the tips hooking into your g-spot on every stroke in and scissoring on every stroke out.

You can feel heat spreading throughout your body, the fire starting in your lower belly and traveling through your veins to scald every limb, to raze every cell. You’re on the precipice of something great, something that will destroy you, but you need just a little more, though you don’t know what it is that you need.

Jihoon does, of course Jihoon does, and as soon as he demands, “Cum for me, now,” you feel the dam break and the euphoria flood you, the icy bite of release sharp and cutting, dousing all of the embers burning within you, leaving you to tremble and try to breathe through every last curl of his fingers. He’s still fucking you with them, but he’s slowed down, gentled his touch, eventually leaving them within you with his fingertips pressed right into that sensitive spongy spot inside.

You feel like you’re floating, adrift, lost, until he releases your thigh and leans down over you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that feels starkly different from the rest. This one has purpose, it has meaning, it has heart, and the sheer longing you feel for him has tears welling up and bubbling out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down the sides of your face into your hair.

When he pulls away, you can’t stop them, and soon enough, you’re bawling like a baby. Usually, Jihoon seems uncomfortable with your crying, but now, he just pulls his fingers out of you with a slick pop and wipes them off on the comforter, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

He lets you cry on his chest for who knows how long, one hand rubbing comforting circles on your back and the other cupping the cheek not pressed to his pec, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in a soothing pattern.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers into the air when your sobs start to taper off, replaced by soft breaths in and out as you slowly drop into sleep.

You know you’re in a nightmare.

You’re sprinting through the night, pouring rain pounding the street and covering the sounds of your footsteps. There’s a car ahead of you and you know Jihoon is driving, and that’s what tips you off because Jihoon can’t drive.

You’re running as fast as you can, but not fast enough, even though the car seems to be slowing down, the distance decreasing between it and you until you can maybe, maybe reach out and latch onto the bumper. You throw a hand out and your fingertips graze the fender, and then it speeds up and disappears from sight, leaving you alone in the darkness of the storm, water steadily rising until it covers your knees, your hips, your waist. You try to float but something is weighing you down, and just as the water surges above your head, you wake up.

You blink rapidly in the dark, unfamiliar room, your heart thumping so hard in your chest that you can feel it, though you start to calm down when you take in a deep breath and all you can smell is Jihoon. You pat around the bed for him but find you’re alone in the room, dread pooling in your stomach as you start to wonder where he is.

You won’t be able to sleep again until you see him, until you know he won’t leave you behind like he did in the nightmare, so you clumsily roll out of bed, your limbs shaky and your thighs and pussy a bit tender from the way he handled you just a few hours ago. You stumble through the door, following the sound of soft snores to the living room, where Jihoon is spread out on the couch, barely covered in a blanket.

A frown pinches his face, his brow tight with stress, and you want to smooth it out with your thumb, want to snuggle into the spaces left unoccupied, but you don’t want to wake him, and more than that, you don’t want to know if he’d push you away.

You try to tell yourself that he just likes to sleep alone, that you were too warm for him to really rest, that him leaving has nothing to do with what happened.

Deep down, you know it has everything to do with what happened.

You take in a shaky breath and exhale it quietly, praying he’ll stay asleep as you dig your phone out from between the couch cushions. He does, and you thank him for being such a deep sleeper before darting off to your room and checking your texts.

There’s one from your bestie, asking for updates about the developing situation between you and Jihoon (you could keep it from anyone but her), and a text from Jun, telling you no worries at all and that he’d see you around, which only makes your heart feel heavier.

Needing something to do, you strip Jihoon’s bed of the damp comforter and put it in the wash along with your shorts and panties, relying once again on his ability to sleep through anything.

You numbly carry out your skincare routine before putting yourself to bed, laying awake reliving every moment in his bedroom from beginning to end, ready to admit to yourself that you’ve changed like you promised you wouldn’t.

That he’s not just a best friend to you anymore.

That you no longer want to be you and Jihoon but youandJihoon, with no spaces in between.

That you might even be in-

No, you’re not ready for that yet.

You fall asleep eventually, and there are no more nightmares, but no more dreams either.

Jihoon is pulling away, and you don’t know what to do.

He doesn’t kiss you anymore, doesn’t cook with you anymore, doesn’t even watch TV with you anymore, even when you put on the anime you were powering through together. He just stays holed up in his room, keeps the door shut where it used to be open, coming out only to eat or go to the gym.

You’re trying to shake it off, the grip that night still has on you, but it’s difficult when you have no idea what’s going on with Jihoon.

Does he regret it? Is it that he can’t even stand the sight of you? What if he hates you now?

Those are the main questions that occupy your frazzled thoughts, though you fear with the way he’s behaving, you’ll never get an answer to them.

Soon enough, you find you can barely stand to be in the apartment with the ghost of him, the reminder of his absence like a punch to the gut every single time you do something without him.

You start spending more time at your best friend’s place, her boyfriend happy to lend her to you so he can game more, though he steals her back every night before you force yourself to return home.

When you do, you pass his closed door and tell yourself, you’re not in love with him, you’re not in love with him, you’re not in love with him, like a mantra.

You don’t think it’s working.

Four weeks pass by in much the same fashion, and you’re on the verge of tearing your hair out and begging him on your knees to come back when he finally shows himself.

You’re sitting in the kitchen alone, your comfort music playing on the smart speaker as you force yourself to eat even with your appetite all but gone. You hear his door open and freeze, torn between staying where you are to confront him and scurrying off to your room so you don’t have to see him.

He appears before you can make that choice, his mouth drawn tight and his face shadowed. He hesitates in the doorway like he’s not sure if he’s allowed inside, and you’re mad at him, so fucking mad at him, but more than that, you miss him.

Miss his quiet humor and his cackle of a laugh and his sparkling eyes and his warm body. You miss having his shine on you, miss knowing that you’re his favorite, that he doesn’t treat anyone else the way he treats you, that you’re special.

And fuck it, fuck everything, because you are in love with him.

So you sigh and offer, “There’s more fried rice on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

It’s not an olive branch, but a lifeline, one you frantically toss into the treacherous sea that used to be your friendship, hoping he’ll take it and let you reel him back into your arms, into your life.

He forces a smile, one that doesn’t meet his eyes or even his cheeks, just barely curling the corners of his mouth as he lumbers over. He walks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, your very own Atlas, though you’ve never known his strength to falter, not until now.

He scoops up some rice into the bowl you still habitually leave out for him and joins you at the counter, sitting heavily on the stool across from you and starting to eat. He’s slow about it, as if his appetite is as minuscule as yours. You keep your eyes on your bowl, avoiding looking at the gauntness of his cheeks and the cut of his jawline and trying to work up the courage to ask him what the fuck is going on.

An hour passes and you’ve finally finished eating, Jihoon taking both your bowl and his to the sink, quickly washing them and the utensils as you pack up the leftovers and store them in the fridge. You finish around the same time, and the chasm between you seems to widen ever further, the ledge you’re trapped on shrinking before your very eyes.

He takes in a deep breath and clears his throat, and somehow, you just know he’s going to say something that will cleave your fragile heart in two. Something like ‘it was a mistake,’ or ‘we can’t do that again,’ or-

“I don’t think we should live together anymore.”

Oh. Well, that’s infinitely worse.

“Okay,” you say dazedly, for the third time since you started this with him, because once again, you have no other words. Also maybe because you wouldn’t be able to get anything else out with the way you’re swallowing back tears.

“Okay?” He questions harshly, just a hint of life flowing back into him as his temper ignites. His brow furrows at you, his mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know where to begin because there’s too much to say. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? What else do you want me to say?” You can’t help but raise your defenses, attempting to protect all the little fragments of your heart as they lay at his feet.

“I want you to-,” he blinks rapidly, his face slowly turning red as he sputters, “Don’t you at least want to know why? We’ve lived together for three fucking years, I thought you’d care a little more.”

“Don’t turn this around on me! Of course I fucking care,” you don’t mean to raise your voice, but you can’t believe his audacity, abandoning you for weeks on end and then expecting you to chase after him. “But I don’t know if I want to know why, because this already fucking hurts! It’s hurt for the past month. I mean, I literally cried myself to sleep on you and then woke up alone. And I’ve been alone every day since. How do you think that’s made me feel?”

You don’t want to cry in front of him right now, not after what happened last time, but you can’t hold back the tears anymore, not when they’re burning behind your eyes and closing up your throat.

“I was trying to protect you, I still am,” he claims desperately, softening at your words and the sight of your watering eyes. “I can’t be what you need.”

“I don’t need you to be anything but my best friend,” you whisper brokenly, lying through your teeth in an effort to keep him here, keep him close.

“That’s the problem.”

He sounds like he’s pleading for you to understand, to find the hidden meaning in his words, but you’re too worked up, too on edge and hurt to make sense of anything.

“How is that a problem? You made me promise nothing would change, that we’d still be us, and now me wanting you to be my best friend is a problem?”

“Well, I’m sorry but I didn’t think I would fucking fall in love with you!” He all but shouts, his eyes wide and his chest heaving before he sucks in a shuddering breath and takes a step back, running a hand through his messy hair and looking away from you.

His words ring in your ears, blending together into a jumble of sounds that you can’t parse through, until you’re not sure he even uttered them at all.

“Say that again?” You request quietly, feeling a bit out of your body, a bit out of your mind.

“Don’t make me, please, not when you don’t-,” he stops himself like he can’t bear to speak the words.

So he really did say it.

“And how do you know I don’t? Did you ever even think to ask before trying to take yourself out of my life?” You whisper with exhaustion and misery, wounded feelings warring with the hope attempting to blossom within you.

Jihoon seems stunned at your questions, like he really, truly was certain you didn’t love him back.

“Were you protecting me, or yourself?” You have to ask, if only to make him realize what seems so obvious to you.

“Maybe… maybe both,” he bites his lips and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest as his shoulders tense with what you assume is regret and perhaps a little embarrassment. That’s not why you asked him those things, and you can’t bear to see him so closed off to you still, not now that you know how he feels.

“Jihoon, I didn’t expect to fall in love with you either, but I did. Like, after the first kiss, if I’m being honest,” you laugh weakly at yourself, hoping to put him more at ease.

“You did?” He asks cautiously, waiting for your nod to let some of the tension in his shoulders go.

You take a step toward him and then another, and another, until you’re close enough to grip both of his arms and unfold them.

He lets you, his gaze back on your face, something like pained wonderment in his eyes as you tuck his arms around your waist and cup his cheeks. You lean in, your lips just inches from his, and whisper, “Kiss me like you love me?”

“Should be easy enough,” he whispers back before pressing his mouth to yours gently, reverently, his hands careful on your back as he tugs you closer. This kiss reminds you of the last one you shared, the one that made you sob yourself to sleep, but this time, there’s no longing involved, no sadness, because this time, you know he’s yours.

He pulls away before you’re ready, but you release his cheeks and let him go, love-tinged surprise bursting in you when he holds you tighter and pulls you into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and you twine your arms around his, one hand sinking into his hair to scratch at his scalp and the other rubbing his back as he breathes you in.

You’re always the one seeking affection, the one reaching for him, and you feel the cracks in your fractured heart start to seal back up as he whispers into your skin, “I love you, so fucking much.”

“I love you more,” you murmur, laughing freely when he pulls back and says, “Don’t even start, you know I’ll win.”

“Yeah, because you fight dirty,” you tease, giggling until he promises, “Baby, you have no idea.”

He claims your lips in a deep, ardent kiss, one that soon makes your knees weak and your thoughts turn to stardust in your head. One of his hands rises to the nape of your neck, holding you to him and controlling the angle so he can kiss you how he wants. The other drops to your hip, pushing you against the counter as he knocks your legs apart with a knee and fills the space in between with his body.

You gasp into his mouth and he slips his tongue inside of yours, a rumbling groan vibrating into your lips when your fingers clench in his hair. It’s so soft and his body is so hard, the dichotomy of the sensations stealing your breath as he pushes himself against you, grinding his thickening bulge into your thinly covered core.

You’re wearing those blasted pajama shorts again but of course it’s laundry day so they’re the only layer covering your center, and almost embarrassingly rapidly, you feel them dampening. You don’t know if Jihoon can feel it too but he’ll notice soon enough, and you can already picture the pleased smirk that’ll stretch his lips when he realizes how wet you’ve gotten for him.

It’s not your fault though, he’s so hot and you love him so much and he still hasn’t fucked you. It’s been four weeks since he touched you, and when you weren’t battling through nightmares, you were stuck in dreams of him touching you more. You still couldn’t conjure the feeling of his cock, or even the look of it, and deep below the raincloud of loneliness that’s been following you, there was a hunger, a yearning, a desperation to finally know him in this way.

Unable to stand it any longer, you break the kiss and summon your courage to pant, “Please fuck me, Jihoon.”

You expect him to tease you, to draw this out until you’re really begging, but he just releases you and takes your hand, dragging you behind him to his bedroom. When he pulls you through the doorway, you gasp at the sight that greets you, piles of clothes on the floor and sheet music and scrawled lyrics taped to nearly every free inch of the walls.

He’s normally clean, meticulous, about both his music and his space, and part of you feels sad, sorry that he’s been affected this much, but another part of you feels relieved that he’s suffered just like you have. The rest of you feels ravenous, and that’s what you focus on as he rips off his shirt and reaches for yours, his eyes hot on your breasts when they’re revealed to him.

His hands cover them immediately, cupping to test the weight of them and squeezing to feel the give, his thumbs rubbing circles around your nipples until they pucker for him. A shiver rolls through you as he ducks his head to suck one into his hot, wet mouth, groans vibrating against your skin like he loves the taste of you. He moves over to the other side, nipping at the bud and laving his tongue over it, his fingers pinching and pulling the one that’s still spit-slick.

When he pops off and brings his eyes back to yours, they’re deep, dark, covetous, and you’re so hypnotized by his stare that you don’t even notice he’s wrapped his arms around your waist until he lifts you and drops you onto his bed.

You land on your back, your breath exiting your lungs in a whoosh, knocked out by his rough handling, the action only making you feel hotter for him. He doesn’t give you much time to recover, his fingers tucking in the hem of your shorts and starting to pull them down. You have enough wherewithal to lift your hips for him this time, and when he tosses them aside, you don’t even wait for him to tell you what to do, you just rest your hands above your head, spread your legs, and let him see the mess he’s made of you.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, climbing onto the bed and settling on his stomach between your thighs, his head turning and his teeth latching onto the sensitive skin along the inside. It stings but you love the ache, hope you’ll bear the indentations for days after, though you know he’ll just replace them when they fade away.

He releases you when he’s satisfied, licking over the dents to soothe the burn before pressing his hands to the backs of your thighs and lifting them onto his shoulders. His eyes meet yours just as he leans forward and drags his tongue from cunt to clit, the fire in them sparking brighter when you buck into his mouth and whine sharply.

His thumbs come up to spread your pussy apart and then he’s on you, sucking, nibbling, biting, relearning every fold and contour of your cunt with apt attention. His tongue darts inside, tasting you at the source, and the groan that escapes him reverberates through your whole body, making your thighs squeeze around his head.

He moves his hands, one wrapping tight around your thigh and pulling it to the side to give him more room, the other shifting down to pet at your entrance. He lets you take in one breath before he starts to sink two fingers inside of you, pushing at your walls to make space until his knuckles are flush with your cunt.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his digits, the fullness blissful and the warmth comforting, and you almost think you have a hope of lasting more than a few minutes until his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers curl.

How he can pinpoint your g-spot after just one encounter, you don’t know, but all you can do is hold tight to the sheets beneath your hands and try not to scream as he builds up his rhythm. It’s fast, staccato, his fingers tapping into that spongy spot over and over, your arousal so abundant it’s seeping out of you.

He works in a third finger, and that’s when you know it’s over, the stretch of your inner muscles around him immaculate as he grinds his fingertips into your front wall, playing you like an instrument and drawing the orgasm out of you as if he’s conducting an orchestra.

His mouth is nowhere near as graceful, the pulse of his lips around your clit erratic and hurried, his mouth opening wider every so often to gather more of your arousal on his tongue and swallow it down.

The difference in sensations is what sends you careening over the edge, freefalling through the clouds of euphoria until Jihoon rips himself away from you and yanks you back down to earth.

“Fuck, I have to be inside of you,” he slurs, his face red and his eyes hazy. He lowers your thighs to the bed and sits up on his knees, licking around his glossy lips to chase the taste of you as he pushes his shorts and underwear down enough to free his dick.

Your eyes fly to it immediately, desperate to get your first look, and when it bobs in the air, a pearl of precum dripping from the head down the shaft, you almost want to cry.

You didn’t think dicks could be pretty but Jihoon’s is fucking gorgeous; thick and long enough to make you ache tomorrow, lightly pink toned until the head where it’s red and blushed, the entire thing so hard you feel your core throb just at the thought of having it inside of you.

“Please, please, please,” you whimper, need clear in your voice as you watch him crawl toward you.

He doesn’t stretch himself out on top of you like you expect, instead laying on his side next to you and sliding the arm closest to you under your back, gathering your legs with his other arm so you’re bundled up against his chest. You can’t help but wrap your own arms around him, holding him to you for both stability and comfort, your eyes caught on his as he looks down at you.

You love feeling so close to him after so many weeks apart, love being surrounded by him and held by him, love feeling his heart beating and his lungs expanding against you, evidence that he’s alive and he’s here with you.

“Line me up, baby. I’ll do the rest,” he murmurs low in your ear, and you obey as if you’re under his spell, reaching around your legs to take hold of his perfect cock and align it with your entrance.

“Good girl,” he whispers, just as he starts to push inside, and you know he said it then so he could feel how your pussy responds to him but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed, not when his face flushes with pleasure, his brows pushing together and his mouth falling open as he carves a path inside of you that’s just for him to tread, just for him to own. He feels like magic inside of you, the way he fills you to the brim and warms you from the inside out, the way you finally feel complete, like he’s the last piece to your puzzle.

He’s still for a few trembling seconds, and you can’t tell if he’s letting you get used to him or if he’s trying to keep from cumming, but either way, you want to torment him, just a little.

So you squeeze your inner muscles around him, luxuriating in the tightening of his hands on you and the swear he grits out, his eyes flashing heatedly at you as he draws his hips back and shoves them forward.

The loss of him makes you whine but the sudden fullness makes you keen, your cheeks heating at the sound of him bottoming out inside of you, the squelch that follows making him smirk. He can’t hold it for long, not when he gives you one testing thrust, then a second, then a third, and you cry out for him every single time.

You’re responsive in bed, you knew this already, but you never thought you’d be this loud, this wet, this pliant for him. All you want to do is lay here in his arms and let him fuck you how he wants, use you how he wants, take you how he wants, letting him know with your voice and your pussy just how much you love every single second.

You don’t want to think, or call the shots, or make decisions, not when you know you don’t need to with him, and suddenly you remember him saying, “You like being treated like the pretty little princess you are,” and fuck, he was right.

Jihoon must see it in your eyes, how the submission has taken over, because he coos and presses his lips to your cheek, still fucking in and out of you as he says, “You are my good girl, aren’t you?”

You manage to nod and whine, “Wanna be your best girl.”

His face softens even as his thrusts don’t, his voice gentle as he says, “You already are, baby. You’re my best girl and my only girl, okay? So don’t worry your pretty little head with anything, I’ll take care of you.”

That’s enough to have you tearing up again, this time in relief and rapture. He doesn’t miss a beat, kisses away the saltwater as it dots your cheeks and continues to sink into you so deeply, it’s like you can feel him in your guts.

Pleasure starts to spool up inside of you, scorching twine coiling tighter and tighter and tighter, moans and whimpers continuously escaping your parted lips as you feel a rush of molten gold surge through your veins, your pussy fluttering and then clamping down on him.

He shudders out a groan and fucks you through it, the friction on your rippling walls sublime, elongating your ecstasy until he finally breaks with you, filling you with a burst of warmth as his white hot cum coats the depths of you, starting to gather around your entrance when it has nowhere left to go.

You pant, trying to catch your breath and gather what little wits remain as he tucks his legs up beneath your thighs, removing the arm bolstering them and bringing his hand up to caress your cheek.

Your tears are starting to dry up as you slowly come back to yourself, and he brushes the remnants away, whispering soothing, affectionate words to you.

He tells you how much he's missed you, how sorry he is for shutting you out, for leaving you alone. He tells you how he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, how everything he's written for the past month has either been a love song or a breakup song, how all of them made him cry too much to record a guide so sorry, baby, but you can't listen to any yet.

Then he tells you that he loves you, that you never have to worry about being alone again, that he'll be with you for the rest of your life.

So when he carefully reclaims his arms, kisses your temple and slowly pulls out before climbing off the bed, you don’t panic, because you know that he’s not leaving leaving, that he’ll come back to you this time.

And when he does, a warm, damp washcloth in one hand and your water bottle in the other, you feel a bone-deep love settle into you, one that you know is here to stay.

AN: shamelessly self indulgent, reader is me i am reader

thank you for reading, i know this was a long one!

pls lmk your thoughts i am desperate to know 😩

this is the longest oneshot i've ever written but i really wanted to have a complete narrative and im so happy with it but also nervous to share it 🥹

inspired by pretty please by dua lipa but became a beast of its own

944 notes · View notes

wavelikewhat · 11 months

Text

Heartstrings

Pairing: Producer!Woozi x Producer!Reader (she/her pronouns) Summary: You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer. Wordcount: 4.5k Content notes: none Genre/themes/appearances: fluff, strangers to lovers, idol/non-idol, music talk, Hoshi meddling, Seungcheol interrogating, Jeonghan snooping

A/N: So this is technically a fanfic for two fanfics: when I read i look good on you by @seungkwansphd I needed a backstory for them immediately. Then last week I read Live by @wondernus and it felt like it fit into my headcanon, so my mind started filling out how they met and got back together and began a public relationship… So here I am posting my first Woozi fic that is a fake prequel to those two, in a way? Please read those because they are so short and so sweet and will have your imagination (and heart) racing! This story is about how this couple gets together :)

“Ya! Soonyoung!” Jihoon called out.

Soonyoung abruptly stopped dancing and turned around, surprised to see Jihoon in his practice room. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon got straight to the point, as always. “Do you have the number of the producer who wrote the song you did with Youngji?” he asked as he walked toward Soonyoung at the mirrored wall.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “Y/N? Why do you need her number at…” He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the mirrors and added, “11:45 at night?”

Jihoon sighed, exasperated that this ‘quick question’ was turning into a full blown conversation. “I have to finish that song featuring a woman’s vocals. The company wants to hear it tomorrow, but I need someone who can sing on the demo. They’ll have a hard time picturing a woman singing it if I sing it.”

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Y/N sang the guide for that song. Yes, I have her number.” He walked over to his bag and fished out his phone. “Sent.”

Jihoon’s phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down to see a notification from Soonyoung. “Thanks.” He turned and headed out of the room.

Soonyoung watched the door close, shrugged, and walked back to the mirrors to practice.

...

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:49 - This is Jihoon, Soonyoung gave me your number. Would you be able to sing on a demo for me tonight? I’m working on a song with a woman’s vocals and the company wants to hear it tomorrow.

[Y/N] 23:50 - Did you give someone my number?

[Hoshi] 23:50 - Woozi asked me for it. Did he text you?

[Y/N] 23:50 - He did, but I had to make sure it was real

[Hoshi] 23:50 - LOL!

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:51 - Hi! I’m just finishing up at my studio. I can definitely help.

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:51- Any chance you could come to my studio tonight then?

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:52 - Sure, send me the location.

...

You stared at your phone in shock. There is no way THE Woozi (and he called himself JIHOON?! like you were actual people who knew each other?) just asked you for help at midnight on a Tuesday. You honestly almost said yes even before your brain had a brief moment of sanity and directed you to check with Hoshi.

When Woozi asked you to come to his studio you completely froze, re-entering reality only long enough to let him know you could be there. You’d seen clips of him working at the studio and it seemed like such a cool place. You couldn't believe you were really about to go inside.

Woozi (Jihoon, you reminded yourself) even sent a company car to pick you up, which was very thoughtful of him. Then again, you were doing him a huge favor by agreeing to meet him at midnight on a Tuesday. He was lucky you were a night owl. The least he could do was give you a free ride.

All throughout the ride to his studio from yours, you felt like you should be manically texting someone about it, but you were somewhat frozen in shock. You sent a message to your roommate letting them know that you were staying out late to work with another producer, and you gave them the address for “Jihoon’s studio” and made sure location sharing was still turned on for your phone. (Safety first.) You did this frequently enough that they easily replied they'd keep their ringer on and check on you in the morning to make sure you made it back.

You stared out the window as buildings and brightly lit late-night restaurants flashed by. Suddenly, you realized, I am literally living my dream at this exact moment. You lived in Seoul working as a music producer, you had an amazing roommate you loved, you had fun meeting and collaborating with other producers in the business, and you worked on several very successful songs. And now you were about to meet one of the most successful producers in the world. Unreal.

The car arrived at what looked like an average gray building after a 15 minute ride from your studio. The subway entrance across the street told you the building was only one stop away from your apartment on the subway line you rode to work.

A security guard at the entrance let you in and pointed out the correct elevator. As the elevator doors closed, you heard him on the phone with Jihoon, letting him know you arrived. When the doors opened, you didn’t even have to wander around looking for the right room. Jihoon stood outside one of the doorways and nodded quickly before heading back into a room halfway down the hall.

You took a deep breath and started toward the studio. You had butterflies in your stomach. You didn't follow the group closely, yet among the members you’d always felt particularly drawn to Jihoon, not just for his looks (because he was so handsome you could barely believe it) but for his mind. This was an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity to work with such a talented producer.

When you walked into the studio, it was exactly as it looked in the clips you saw online. He was sitting at a computer and beside him was an empty chair. On the desk were big headphones and a microphone that were both plugged into his system. You’d only seen this microphone model online, and your excitement grew at the chance of getting to use it.

“Thanks for coming over,” Jihoon said as you walked to his desk. “I had a busy schedule today so I didn’t find out until an hour ago that they wanted it so fast.”

“Happy to help. I’m glad you thought of me.” At that moment, he looked up and met your eyes. His gaze was intense and his eyes seemed to stare into you. Maybe this was his work mode.

Shake it off, you told yourself, dropping your bag under the desk and sitting down. Be professional.

Jihoon played the ballad for you a few times and explained the concept. He sent you the lyrics so you could scroll through on your phone and follow along. You sang along under your breath, shoulders bobbing to the beat. The song was sure to be a hit, but he was correct that it was hard to imagine a woman featuring on the song with his (absolutely incredible) vocals on the demo.

“Are you ready to record?” Jihoon asked.

You nodded. You were never nervous the first time you sang something. It was like making pancakes: the first one didn’t count. That was your personal rule. You carefully put on the headphones and settled the microphone in front of you where you liked it.

You sang the lyrics exactly as written with the same vocalization he used in his version. A few times, your tongue twisted over the words. Your gut told you it wasn’t your singing style that was the issue. It felt like the sounds of those particular words didn’t fit those specific bars. As Jihoon played it back for you, you settled in to listen but you still felt some of the lyrics weren’t aligned with the song’s concept or sound.

Jihoon tilted his head and looked at you. It looked like he was calculating something. “What are you thinking?” he asked, turning his chair to face you fully.

You hesitated for a moment, but this was work. Jihoon was looking for your professional opinion as a songwriter. He obviously heard the demos you’d sent Hoshi back when you wrote a song for him and Youngji, and Jihoon liked your voice enough to ask for it on his demo. So this was definitely about work.

“I think a few of the lyrics need to be changed.” You scrolled to the first spot on your phone and pointed. “Right here, these three syllables are clashing against the musical phrasing underneath. You should do two syllables with an elongated vowel.”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. What about ‘only’ or ‘maybe’ in that spot?” He looked at the lyrics on your phone and sang that section a few times to test out both options. You nodded along, feeling the rhythm of the lyrics.

“Maybe. It fits the concept of the song better.”

“I agree. What else?”

As you pointed out a few other suggestions, you found yourself much more comfortable working with him than you expected. Sometimes when you met some of the bigger producers for the first time, you felt too starstruck to make any changes to their work. But something about working alone in the quiet studio with Jihoon made your typical unease disappear. His presence filled the room, but his questions were clear and direct and you always knew exactly what he was asking.

Ten minutes later, Jihoon started a second recording, this time with the new lyrics. Despite the late hour, your voice felt strong and your mouth formed every word exactly as you intended. When you finished singing and took off the headphones, Jihoon’s eyes sparkled at you before he spoke. You felt it, too. This was it. You wouldn’t need to lay another track.

“Ready to hear it?” he asked, looking back at the computer and not addressing the fact that you both knew it was going to be perfect. You could hear the note of anticipation in his voice.

“Yes.”

A broad smile stretched across your face as you listened to the entire song. Afterwards, Jihoon turned to you with his phone in hand.

“Send me your agency’s contact information and the email address for the legal department. I need the KOMCA registration details so I can list your name in the credits.”

And just like that, you officially collaborated on a song with Universe Factory.

...

“Did you end up recording with Y/N?” Soonyoung asked Jihoon as they walked back to the practice room holding fresh iced Americanos.

“She came over that night and recorded the demo,” Jihoon replied, heading up a staircase.

Soonyoung’s eyes bugged out of his head and he stumbled on a step. He grabbed the railing to catch himself. “That night? It was the middle of the night!”

Jihoon shrugged. “She said she could.”

“What did you do together?” Soonyoung asked suspiciously.

“What do you mean? We recorded the song.”

“That’s it?”

“What else would we do? She helped with the lyrics and I set it up to give her writing credits.”

“Really?”

“Of course I did. She made the song better.”

Soonyoung watched Jihoon out of the corner of his eye. That was one of the nicest things Jihoon had ever said about anyone. Soonyoung took another sip of his coffee, his mind racing as he calculated a hundred algorithms at once. This whole situation was pretty unusual. But maybe, just maybe, his suspicion about Jihoon was correct.

“When are you seeing her again?” Soonyoung asked casually after they reached the top of the steps.

Jihoon cocked his head, thinking. “Maybe I’ll invite her to the recording. She would probably like that.”

Again, Soonyoung stumbled over his own two feet out of shock that Jihoon was considering someone’s feelings, and it wasn’t someone he’d known for a decade. And he didn’t always consider the feelings of members he knew for that long.

“Aren’t you going to buy dinner to thank her?” Soonyoung suggested.

“Is that necessary?”

“It would be the professional thing to do. Wouldn’t you do that if you worked with a guy? And Y/N really helped you meet your deadline.”

Jihoon thought carefully about the suggestion as they approached the door to the practice room. “You’re right. I should treat her to dinner. I’ll send her a message when we’re done.”

“I’ll remind you!” Soonyoung exclaimed enthusiastically.

...

Late at night a few days later, you walked up the hill to your apartment, completely lost in thought. You just finished dinner with Jihoon, and sharing the meal felt as comfortable as when you were recording in his studio last week.

After recording the demo together, he coordinated with your agency to make sure your credits appeared properly on the new song. You also had to sign an NDA about the song, studio location, and spending time with Jihoon. I guess it goes with the territory, you thought to yourself as you signed it.

During dinner, Jihoon explained the rushed deadline for the demo was because the song would be an OST for a drama starring one of the hottest actors in the country and the drama producers wanted to hear the song. Of course, they loved it and approved it.

It was hard to believe you worked with Jihoon on a song that Dokyeom was about to sing for a highly anticipated drama. It was even wilder that *Woozi* was saved in your phone simply as Jihoon, as if he was just another producer you worked with. And you were so surprised when he offered to buy you a meal to thank you. You should be the one thanking him!

But the simple meal was delicious and the quiet dinner in the small family-run restaurant near his studio (and near your apartment, but he didn't need to know that) was really nice. The owners seemed to know him well and treated him as a son. You knew you would remember the evening fondly.

Conversation mostly focused on work, but when Jihoon learned where you went to college for music production, it turned out you had learned from his mentors. He shared some genuinely entertaining stories from when he was starting to learn production software and recording tools.

It all made him more… real, and less of a person you just saw in videos on your phone. You sort of couldn't stop thinking about him, and as you walked up the steps leading to your apartment building, you found yourself mentally scrolling through all your draft songs to see if he might want to work on one with you.

...

[Jihoon] 21:09 - Would you be interested in coming to Dokyeom’s recording on Tuesday?

[Y/N] 21:15 - I would love that!

...

Through the glass of the recording booth, Jihoon watched you chatting with Dokyeom like you were old friends. He felt his stomach twist but couldn't figure out why.

Dokyeom had convinced you to record one track where you sang with him, even though they had a famous singer scheduled to record that verse tomorrow. So there you were, giggling with Dokyeom in the booth.

"Ready?" Jihoon asked over the booth speakers. He watched you and Dokyeom giggle yet again over the grumpy tone of his request before settling in around the mic.

Jihoon began the recording and heard your voice pipe through his headphones. Dokyeom added unplanned adlibs underneath, which Jihoon grudgingly acknowledged worked better than what he'd suggested.

It was so odd that Jihoon felt so protective of this song when it wasn't even his song anymore. You had made it so much better, and now the two singers were going to apply their own professional minds to the song. This is how it always went.

So why was he jealous of not being on the track himself? Of not being the one in the booth with you? Jihoon saw Dokyeom tap you on the shoulder to encourage you to join him on the final vocal runs. Oh yes, he was definitely feeling weirdly jealous over you two for some reason.

The music ended and you looked through the glass directly at Jihoon, eyes shining at him with a huge grin across your face. Jihoon found himself smiling back. You looked really beautiful at that moment.

Dokyeom's eyes widened as he glanced between you and Jihoon. He had never seen Jihoon appear so connected with a virtual stranger. The camera crew appeared to think the same thing, because he saw one of them move to get a close up of Jihoon, and he saw the robotic camera in the booth tilt toward you.

You broke eye contact with Jihoon to take off your headphones and thank Dokyeom for a chance to record the song for fun, and Jihoon shook himself out of whatever bizarre hypnosis he was going through. He headed over to the computer to send this track to his personal email, just in case he may want to listen to it later.

After a few more recordings of Dokyeom alone (his raw vocals were no joke), the three of you chatted in the studio while the engineer finalized the tracks and Dokyeom suggested getting dinner.

"I would love to, but I'm meeting my roommate for dinner," you explained. "We live nearby."

"Invite them!" Dokyeom replied. "Let me pick a spot and send you the location." He scrolled through the map on his phone.

Jihoon tidied the studio and listened to the two of you talk about dinner options. So you lived nearby and had a roommate. For some reason, he liked learning things about you. It must be because you worked together so well.

Dokyeom selected a restaurant and you called your roommate to ask about meeting you and your friends for dinner. You made eye contact with Jihoon when you said that into your phone. "Friends." Were the two of you friends now? Maybe.

...

"Jihoon, did you watch the new behind the scenes video?" Seungcheol asked as they rode to their next schedule.

Jihoon responded without looking up from his phone. "Not yet. It’s been a busy week."

"The fans are going crazy over your recording with Y/N."

Jihoon looked up at the sound of your name. He didn't realize Seungcheol knew who you were. "My recording with Y/N? You mean Dokyeom's OST recording?"

"That's not what Carats are calling it."

Seungcheol held his phone up so Jihoon could see a fan edit of the few clips from the episode that showed you with him in the studio. It ended with a screenshot from Dokyeom's Instagram story showing the three of you at dinner after the recording, in a photo taken by your roommate.

"What is that all about?" Jihoon wondered aloud. He was genuinely confused.

"Are you two dating?" Seungcheol asked directly.

Behind him in the car, Jeonghan and Minghao immediately stopped chatting. This was far more interesting than their conversation. While eavesdropping, Jeonghan frantically searched your name and Jihoon's name on social media to find the clip Seungcheol was talking about.

"No," Jihoon replied. "We worked together on the song and Dokyeom suggested we have dinner. We had dinner another time, too."

"That’s it?" Seungcheol asked skeptically.

"What do you mean? That's it."

Seungcheol looked from Jihoon to his phone, where the edit was playing again. Seungcheol agreed with the fans. There were definitely sparks between you and Jihoon. Maybe Jihoon didn't realize it yet.

By then, Jeonghan had found the clip and was watching it on mute with Minghao. They shared a meaningful look. They would probably agree with Seungcheol on his theory.

Jeonghan opened his text thread with Soonyoung and sent him a message out of curiosity. "Do you still hang out with Y/N?"

...

You were surprised by the reaction to the behind the scenes video. Most of your friends were excited to see the clips of Jihoon and Dokyeom and kept telling you the video was so cute.

Back when Dokyeom tagged you on his Instagram story, you explained to your friends that you worked on something with them and it had been an amazing experience. They were all happy for you and excited after the song was released and became so popular.

The fans seemed to have the same reaction as your friends. You were naturally a little nervous about what Carats would say when Jihoon's company asked if you were willing to be recorded. After the video, the fans seemed to think you were adorable and talented and that you worked well with Jihoon. It wasn't the dramatic reaction your roommate predicted.

But your roommate was also convinced you were into Jihoon and he was into you. While that might be half true, despite your denial, nothing in the video showed anything personal between you and Jihoon. Not that there was anything personal between the two of you, but sometimes you felt like he was giving…something. His attention felt more intense than regular coworker attention. You sort of loved having all his attention focused on you.

Nevertheless, you were barely in the video after all, since it was about Dokyeom recording the song. They cut the entire section with the track you sang with Dokyeom. The few clips where you appeared mostly showed you chatting and interacting with Jihoon, and you may have watched one or two fan edits of those scenes.

No matter what was or wasn't going on between you and Jihoon, you would never forget immediately after the music stopped, when the two of you stared into each other's eyes in a perfect moment in time.

Even if he never contacted you again, you would never forget that moment.

...

[Jihoon] 13:30 - I just learned the song was nominated for best OST

[Y/N] 13:31 - WHAT?? Really??

[Jihoon] 13:31 - It's your first nomination right?

[Y/N] 13:31 - Yes!

[Y/N] 13:31 - I can't believe it

[Y/N] 13:32 - I'm in shock

[Jihoon] 13:32 - I asked them to invite you to the ceremony

[Y/N] 13:32 - You didn't have to do that

[Jihoon] 13:33 - I have to sit with the group, but even if we don't win I want it to be a special night for you

[Jihoon] 13:33 - It's an honor to be nominated

[Y/N] 13:34 - Thank you so much for including me in all of this

[Jihoon] 13:34 - You earned this

...

"...produced by Woozi of Universe Factory, and written by Woozi of Universe Factory and Y/N of Bespoke Records. This is the first win and first nomination in this category for these songwriters. Please welcome Woozi and Dokyeom to the stage."

Jihoon was actually surprised the song won. The other nominees were very popular as well, but all were produced by groups who wrote many drama OSTs. Seungkwan clapped his back and encouraged him to go up to the stage with Dokyeom as the members cheered and clapped around him. Above the noise, Jihoon could hear the song playing in the background.

As he stood, he took a moment to scan the audience, hoping he might see you. He didn't know where your assigned seat was, only that you weren't at one of the tables at the front with the larger groups and celebrities. He knew you were here because of the excited text messages you sent him after you spotted his table.

Dokyeom led the way to the stage. Jihoon reached the microphone and accepted the award, bowing to the MCs. They stepped back and motioned toward the microphone. Dokyeom nodded encouragingly. Jihoon had done this so many times yet completely forgot what he was supposed to do this time. He wished you were on stage with him.

"Thank you, thank you everyone. Thank you to the company and the drama producers for this opportunity. Thank you to the viewers for appreciating the song from rookie OST producers. Thank you to Y/N, who is also here tonight, for elevating the song to what you hear today. She…"

Jihoon trailed off as loud applause covered his voice and people seemed to be looking at the screen behind him. He turned to look and his mind went blank. You looked radiant in your elegant dress and glowing smile.

He'd never seen you in such a beautiful gown (he only saw you in jeans or sweats and he loved that didn't follow all the trends). Your makeup was shimmering on camera (your everyday makeup always wore off by the time you arrived at your late night meetings but you were always beautiful to him). Everything about you was captivating.

He was a man of few words, generally, but right now he was speechless.

Finally, Dokyeom poked his side and nodded toward the microphone forcefully. Jihoon's years of media training kicked in and he turned back to the audience to finish his speech.

"Thank you also to our wonderful singers who brought so much life to the song. I hope we are all able to return to you soon as stronger artists."

When Jihoon returned to his seat, Soonyoung eagerly whispered, "Y/N looks gorgeous, doesn't she? How did you know she was here?"

"I invited her," Jihoon replied. And she does look amazing, he thought to himself.

...

Late that night, many hours later, Jihoon's phone buzzed as he filled a glass of water. He looked at the notification and saw it was a message from you.

[Y/N] 4:13 - Thank you so much for everything. I'm going to remember tonight for the rest of my life. It was an honor to work with you and I'm so proud of the song.

Jihoon looked at the time. Maybe it was too late to call you, but you were clearly up too late thinking about things, just as he was. He tapped the icon to call you and was still a little surprised when you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi. I just wanted to say it was a privilege to work with you too.” There was a pause and he awkwardly filled it. “The award will be sent to your company after they engrave it.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ve never won anything before. It still doesn't feel real.”

Jihoon heard a small thump in the background. It sounded like you sat down. He sat down on the couch himself and set his glass on the table in front of him.

“It would be funny if we worked together again and won another award.”

It wouldn’t be funny, Jihoon thought. It was very possible. You were extremely talented. “Why not? You should send me some of your songs.”

You chuckled into his ear. Something about this made his heart beat faster. “I've been thinking about doing that but I didn't know if you would want to listen to my music.”

“Of course I do.”

The line went silent.

Jihoon wondered if you could tell how he felt about you. His friends told him women were more perceptive than they expected, especially if you treat them disrespectfully. He tried to treat everyone with respect. But he wanted more from you. He wanted more with you.

“YN? Are you still there?”

“I am,” you replied quietly.

“After you send me some songs, should we have dinner again? Just us. We can talk about the songs.” He paused, thinking of how to put into words what he felt about you. “And anything else on your mind. I really like it when you tell me what you're thinking about.”

“That would be great. I would love to.” He could hear your smile over the phone.

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