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carousellights · 10 months

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dean's list | y. jeongin

synopsis — you've spent almost your entire life hating yang jeongin. in middle school, he left you crying at the front gates for getting the best score on an exam. with crushed dignity, you declared him your arch nemesis and worked your ass off to beat him in academics. with college finally here, you thought you'd be free of him, but out of coincidence or spite, he's attending the same university and running in the same friend group. with him going out of his way to make your life a living hell, it's almost comedic that you find heaven in the form of his body.

genre — college au, academic rivals to lovers au, enemies to lovers au, smut (minors do not interact)

pairing — college student, frat boy!jeongin/fem, college student!reader

warnings — academic competition, mentions of academic burn out, alcohol consumption, language, sexual themes (dom!jeongin, voyerism, mirror kink, begging, cum play, degradation, finger sucking, oral sex: female receiving, light choking, unprotected sex)

word count — 8.7k

you hated yang jeongin.

maybe hate was a strong word, but your feelings for the boy were something akin to it at the very least. everything about him pissed you off; even the simplest fleeting thought of him angered you. seeing him on campus and in class left you reeling with rage, seething at the idea that of course, after years of sharing academics, your mortal enemy would choose to go to the same university as you, choose the same major, pick the same classes.

and it wasn’t like your loathing wasn’t returned by the boy. almost secondary to your decades of academic rivalry was your competition on who despised the other most. in middle school, jeongin had picked a fight with you because for the first time in almost three months, you’d scored higher on an exam than he had; he’d stopped you after school before you could even step foot out of the front gates, got in your face about how he’d always hated you, and, at thirteen years old, declared you his mortal enemy, as if you’d murdered his entire family and were preparing yourself to obtain world domination or something along the same lines.

to you, up until then, the rivalry you’d shared with yang jeongin had been all in good fun, just two incredibly intelligent students working hard at academics and trading the first and second spots in the class ranking. to you, up until then, you’d been having fun studying as hard as you could and anticipating exam results, excited to see if you’d swapped with the boy. to you, up until then, it had been a gentle motivator to keep you on track and engaged in your academics.

but he’d embarrassed you, hurt your pride and dignity as he yelled at you in front of your schoolmates for taking the top score, his top score. when he’d finally finished, a smug smile on his face and looking proud of himself for causing visible distress in your features, he left you crying silently, face burning and hands shaking. your friends at the time had come to your aid, small comforting hands rubbing stripes down your blazer-covered arms and glaring angrily after him, spitting sharp words of malice.

from that point on, it was a serious rivalry, one that was tangible and carried real weight with it. the whole school, including teachers, knew about it within days of jeongin’s one-sided yelling match and everybody was left reeling in the effects of it. come exam season that first year, tensions were so heavy that they were practically crushing the student body, including the two of you embroiled in that almost deadly competition, and yet despite that, you’d heard the whispers about betting pools going around: who would get the top spot in the class rank? you or jeongin? from what your friends had been told by others, most students were betting on jeongin because he’d had a longer streak of getting the highest grades.

that, unsurprisingly, had pissed you off beyond belief. not only had he gone out of his way to personally destroy your dignity, but now you were being faced with the trickle-down effects of his less than polite actions. only a small handful of your fellow classmates supported your potential to beat him out for the top spot. with your friends as your witnesses, you’d sworn then and there that the highest grades were going to be yours that exam season.

the second you’d gotten home, you put together an intensive revision schedule, hardly even allowing yourself time to do anything other than study. your parents, hard as they were on you about academics, tried to tell you that taking time for yourself and focusing on things outside of school were important, but you didn’t listen, couldn’t listen, not when your reputation at school was riding on it.

so you axed anything that would distract you from studying. you didn’t watch television or movies, you kept away from books, you locked every app on your phone that wasn’t conducive to your productivity or important in some way. you lost hours of sleep and vital nutrition, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. you didn’t even care after, when you were on the very brink of exhaustion, because it had all paid off. you’d gotten the highest grades of the season and even though you’d worked yourself to death, looking over to jeongin and seeing the visceral anger on his face, his ever-sharpening jaw grinding, his skin going taut against bone, and his eyes and eyebrows narrowing. you were treading dangerous waters, but it didn’t matter when he had publicly embarrassed you in front of everyone. what was a little bit of revenge?

and that’s how things continued for the rest of your secondary school careers: you and jeongin vying for the top rank in school, the exhilarating rush when you bumped him out of first place, the smugness you felt when he’d glare you down in class and in the halls. by the time for you to graduate and go off to university rolled around, you’d secured yourself as the final top student of the class, leaving with the highest honors and enrollment at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country.

for years, you’d looked to graduation as your escape from yang jeongin. for years, he had terrorized you and your dignity, pride, and reputation. for years, you had longed to be free of him and what he symbolized in your life.

with that escape right around the corner, just out of reach but quickly approaching, freedom had never felt so good. for the first time in a long time, you no longer felt pressured to do well in academics and you didn’t feel guilty going to bed before three in the morning. you could breathe easily when doing things other than studying, things you enjoyed and things that helped you relax after a long day. university would be a whole new world for you, but you wouldn’t be competing for a top rank the way you had been for almost your entire life.

at least, that’s what you thought until jeongin announced that not only had he been admitted into the same university as you, but that he’d be majoring in the same field as you. just when you thought you’d finally escaped the clutches of devil incarnate yang jeongin, he’d waltzed in to continue to fuck your life up for four more years.

and fuck up your life, he did, even if not necessarily on purpose. whether by complete coincidence or genuine spite, he was in every single one of your classes, save for a select few (thank you, introduction to visual arts and chemistry one), leaving you to deal with him every single day for hours at a time. the classes you shared together, he took pride in antagonizing you, keeping it so subtle and lowkey that nobody noticed it: going out of his way to sit next to you so he could annoy you during class, making snide remarks to you on campus, purposely asking what you’d scored on an exam or essay when he knew that he’d received higher marks.

to say you were livid was the understatement of the year. truly, you swore you’d never been so angry before. you were glad, then, to find respite in your new best friend, felix, who had beat jeongin to the seat next to you in world masterpieces one day. he’d remarked that you seemed tense and upset when the other boy sat next to you and took it upon himself to ensure that you no longer had to deal with him, at least for one lecture. when the person in question realized that his self-assigned seat had been taken, he’d seemed genuinely angry and when you made eye contact and simply smiled, your eyes narrowed dangerously, he’d seemed furious as he made his way to the other side of the lecture hall.

world masterpieces, for once, was enjoyable. from that day forward, felix had made a point of meeting with you before class so you could walk together and find seats together in the lecture hall. you’d always sit at the end of the back row and felix would take the seat next to you, leaving no other open seat except beside him and in front of you — neither was a very good seat to bother you from, so jeongin stayed away, as much as he simmered in anger at having his in-class entertainment taken away. and things continued like that for the rest of your first semester of university: any classes felix shared with you, he made sure he was there as a buffer to keep jeongin off your back.

presently, just a few weeks into your second semester of your first year, felix is lounging in your bed, flipping through one of your textbooks as you rifle through the tiny closet in your dorm. with as much as he’s over, you’re glad you got a double room all to yourself; not having a roommate to explain yourself to makes it a whole lot easier to let him come over whenever he wants, even though you aren’t fucking.

“why do you even want to go to this party anyways?” felix questions, glancing up at you as you slip into your nth outfit combination of the evening. “you know he who shall not be named is going to be there, right?”

one of the fraternities on campus is throwing a party tonight at their house and said fraternity is the home of several of felix’s friends. you’ve met them a few times and they’ve always been nothing but kind to you; chan, the president of the fraternity, is likely your favorite (next to felix, of course), always going out of his way to be a gentleman and, in turn, saving you the best drinks and jello shots when his frat threw a party.

unfortunately for you, jeongin also runs in this circle of friends, having latched on to minho and somehow charmed the rest of them into liking him enough to keep him around and let him into the damn chapter, which means, by chapter rule, he has to be at these parties for fear of being reprimanded or kicked out. felix has sworn up and down the wall that he never spends any time with the boy and doesn’t really like him all that much, but you have your suspicions because felix, as much as he may deny it, is a complete people pleaser and wants everyone to like him (you’ve told him it doesn’t really bother you as long as he doesn’t bring it up, but he gets defensive about it, swearing his undying loyalty on team y/n).

you shrug in response to his question, turning to look at yourself in the mirror from all angles. “i know, but you’ll be there, too… and so will chan. i trust the two of you to keep me away from him or protect me if he decides to try something.” you turn towards him, gesturing at yourself. “yes or no?”

felix looks at you again, this time wearily; he knows that when jeongin is involved, you get competitive and though it might have flown easily high school when it was just academics, now it involves everything else and that doesn’t make for smooth sailing. the boxed bleach blond gives you a once over and nods his head. “i think it might be the best yet.”

it’s the honest truth because felix would never lie to you and while he’s excited to party with you, there’s a small piece of him that just wishes you’d see reason and stay home, watch a movie, go out to get food or something. jeongin drives you to your absolute limit and then some, and if he’s on his bullshit like he usually is, felix knows he’s going to end up being the one to take care of you in the morning when you’re hungover and practically incapacitated. the way you turn to look at yourself in the mirror and smile, though, is enough to make him sigh and go back to skimming the textbook of yours he’d nicked from your desk.

“okay, awesome,” you say, giving yourself another spin to admire your outfit. “i’ll wear this then. thanks for your help, lix!”

hours later, you find yourself in the basement of the frat house, felix on one side of you and chan in front of you. the music is horribly loud and the press of bodies around you is suffocating and hot, but you don’t really care. you can’t really care when your best friend’s arm is slung around your shoulders and chan is scooting ever closer, trying to give room for people to pass behind him. someone off behind the bar calls felix’s name, likely jisung, and he looks over at you, almost as if asking for permission to leave your side for a few moments; he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you unguarded, but you nod and tell (nay, practically shout) at him to go ahead.

as he slips away from you into the crowd, chan takes his place. he smiles down at you, his signature big, toothy grin, and you can’t help but smile back because it’s contagious the way he looks at you like that. it’s dark and the only light comes from the strobes positioned by the dj booth, but chan somehow still manages to look absolutely mesmerizing in the flashing green and purple lighting. you converse a bit, leaning in close to hear one another over the music, about anything you can possibly think of; he asks how classes are going (though this is entirely against party etiquette because the entire reason of coming to a party to get drunk is to forget about school, but you let it slide because he’s cute) and you ask him how he’s settling into his new life as the fraternity’s president.

“oh,” he says, though it seems to be mostly to himself. “you finished your drink!”

you look down at the red solo cup in your hand, noticing the distinct lack of alcohol in the top cup, having stacked the drinks you’ve had so far to keep track (four and counting). “it seems i have!”

“you want me to go get you another one?” he questions, dark puppy dog eyes sparkling down at you. he seems almost genuinely concerned that you’ve finished your drink and it makes you want to giggle, so you do. as you go to answer, he makes the decision for you. “actually, take my cup. it’s still full. i’ll go and get myself another drink.”

your fingers brush when he passes the plastic cup to you and maybe it’s just the alcohol, but the contact feels something akin to electric. you stare up at him, wide eyed and waiting — for what you don’t know.

“wait right here for me?” he asks, puppy dog eyes back on you and you swear you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your entire life.

“yeah, okay,” you say, even though you’re immediately kicking yourself because you want him to stay with you. he smiles down at you again and you watch as he disappears into the darkness and the crowd, wishing he’d just taken you with him or asked one of his friends to bring him another drink.

however, you stay still, awaiting his and felix’s return dutifully, sipping from your fifth cup of the night and doing your best not to look out of place, though it likely doesn’t matter because nobody’s really paying attention to you anyways. at least they aren’t until someone bumps into you, spilling their drink all down your shirt, but even then, it’s only the immediate people around you and it doesn’t keep their attention for long before they’re turning back to friends or lovers or their choice lay of the night.

you, on the other hand, are drunkenly rounding on the asshole who ruined your outfit. “what the fuck is wrong with you? you’re not even gonna apologize?”

but it’s a moot question because in the strobe lights of this stupid, gross frat house basement, you come face to face with yang jeongin. suddenly, you’re wishing you were a few drinks deeper because as gone as you might be now, you’re not gone far enough to deal with him. of course he’s not going to apologize because he lives to make your life as terrible as he possibly can.

there’s that smug grin on his face, equal parts enraging and tantalizing, and his dark, brushstroke eyes glimmer differently than the way chan’s do.

“oops,” he says, voice light and airy. he sounds the way a cat looks when you catch it doing something it’s not supposed to. “my bad.”

“yeah, your bad, yang,” you say angrily, brushing rivulets of alcohol from your skin. it’s leaving red stains in its wake and you don’t really appreciate it. “get out of my way.”

“what if i don’t want to?” he questions and you want to beat the shit out of him right here, right now. you don’t care who’s watching, you don’t care if it’ll get you blacklisted from this frat house. he’s being an asshole and you’re not going to stand for it.

“i’m not even gonna bother asking you nicely again,” you say, glaring up at him and resisting the urge to lay hands on him. “get the fuck out of my way.”

you don’t even let him get another word out before you’re shoving past him, trying to let the crowd swallow you whole as you make your way towards the stairs at the far end of the room. they take you upstairs and, with the permission of one of the other frat boys, the second staircase takes you to the top floor where the bedrooms are. it’s infinitely cooler up here and quieter; your ears ring with the sudden change in volume, but you’re thankful for it because you can finally hear yourself think.

you’re significantly more sober than you were ten minutes ago, at least mentally. you still stumble and your head is still swimming, your mind trying desperately to keep in time with your body’s movements, but you know you need to get to the bathroom.

i need to wash up what i can, you think to yourself, moving in the direction of the bathroom door. let felix know what happened… oh fuck… what about chan?

in your anger, hazed by alcohol, you’d totally forgotten about chan. was he back from the bar now, wondering where you were? why you’d suddenly disappeared? was jeongin explaining what happened?

as you’re fumbling with the doorknob, someone sidles up behind you and opens the door for you, clearly far sober than you claim to be. the warmth of their body against your back is comforting and you revel in it for as long as you can before you step into the dim bathroom, lit singularly by an led lamp.

“not gonna thank me?”

jeongin, it seems, is not in the basement explaining your sudden departure to his friend and fellow frat brother. no, instead, he’s followed you up here to antagonize you further. you stop in your tracks, eyes closed and arms braced on the counter, trying to brace yourself for however this encounter’s going to end up.

“no. why would i?”

his shoes click against the tiled floor and the door closes behind him. “well, for one, i helped you get in here when you were clearly struggling. i think that warrants a little bit of gratitude.”

“you spilled your fucking drink on me, which i’m willing to guess was on purpose. otherwise, i wouldn’t need to be up here and i wouldn’t have needed anyone’s help because i wouldn’t be in this situation.”

you round on him for the second time tonight, though this time, you’re a lot closer than you expected to be. jeongin stands a few inches away, but he’s bent over at the waist, coming close to leveling himself with you. his face is so close to yours, in fact, that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin and you can smell the alcohol on it. just a few centimeters and your noses would brush.

“but i helped you nonetheless,” he says, not even acknowledging the proximity of your faces. “come on, what happened to your manners, huh?”

“you’ve never deserved any of my manners,” you quip back, backing yourself against the counter, cold stone pressing into the small of your back. if you were stupid, any drunker than you are now, you’d think he’d done all this on purpose: spill his drink on you, get you alone, fluster you with flirting. “again, you spilled your drink on me and again, i’d seriously venture to say that it was on purpose.”

“and if it was?”

in the near blinding sunset orange of the lamp, you swear jeongin looks almost… beautiful. hell, you might even go as far as saying he looks ethereal with dark, cat like eyes and sharp features with smooth, soft skin. you’ve never seen him up close and personal like this before; at least, not since he’d matured and really grown into himself.

you find a part of you that wants to kiss him, what with him leaning so close to you and all. so you do.

jeongin doesn’t even seem surprised by your action, more like he was expecting it, like this was his endgame all along. even if it was, you can’t bring yourself to care because you’ve never been kissed so good in your entire life — not that you’ve been kissed much. his lips are smooth, unmarred by cracks and rough skin, and his mouth is hot against yours. he tastes mostly of alcohol, but you also catch the faintness of something cool and minty, which is all you could have possibly hoped for. he nips at your bottom lip, getting just enough of a reaction out of you to slide his tongue into your mouth and letting you reciprocate.

without even thinking about it, you instinctively wind your arms around his neck, one of your hands slotting carefully into his hair, which is way softer than you’d ever expected it to be. his own hands, unwavering and searing hot, rest on the small of your back, pressing you into his body like he can’t get you close enough. he kisses you with carefully practiced expertise and you wonder where he learned to kiss like this between all the studying and sports and extracurriculars; not that any of that matters because what it boils down to is he’s a great kisser and his tongue is all but down your throat, taking your breath away.

when you finally retreat for a quick respite, jeongin chases after your lips, equally as breathless as you are and reduced to nothing but a sensitive shell of your academic enemy. his nose nudges against your own and his fingers curl into the base of your spine in an effort to get you back to him, and you can’t find it in yourself to deny him, so you kiss him again, but shortly.

you pull away a second time, but only enough to say “i still fucking hate you” before you pull him back in, fingers tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

this kiss is hotter than the last and you get lost in it all so easily, somehow forgetting your real, genuine decade of hating jeongin with every fiber of your being simply because he’s kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before, the only way you’ll ever want to be kissed again. so caught up in the heat of his mouth, you almost miss the way his hands slide from your back to your ass, squeezing at the flesh there.

he’s the one to pull away this time, muttering a quick “jump.” you do and he seats you on the edge of the counter, lips brushing against yours. “if you hate me so much, why are you all over me then? huh? doesn’t make any sense.”

you practically whine, trying to pull him back into you. “kiss me again. please.” it’s almost a fucking whimper and you’ve never felt so debauched before.

jeongin laughs darkly and, in contrast, sweetly indulges you, kisses you once, twice, three times, each with more sensuality and heat than the last before he’s pulling away, trailing his hands from your back to your thighs, pawing at the plush expanse of them. his fingers dig into the fabric of your jeans and you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that only a thin layer of textile separates his palms from the skin of your legs.

you’re suddenly acutely aware that you don’t mind that fact. on the contrary, you want the heat and feel of his hands against your skin; you can feel them through your clothes, but it’s not the same and it doesn’t even compare.

so you do the only thing you can think of: you pull him in for another kiss. this time, though, your hands slide from his shoulders over his chest to the elastic hem of his hoodie emblazoned with the university seal. your fingers, still feeling light and not entirely your own, curl tightly into it and tug, rousing jeongin from whatever alcohol induced haze you’re sharing with him. you feel him smirk against your mouth as he mimics your steps, letting his hands dip underneath the sweater you’re wearing, and finally, you’re met with the feeling of his skin against yours. his fingers splay across your stomach, his palms scorching against your skin.

it’s a divine kind of bliss, you think as you tug at his sweater’s hem once again in an attempt to rid him of it, to be burned by him like this when he’s spent so much time burning you in other, less physical ways. you have so many years under your belt of his intentional, meticulous antagonization, leaving you angry with him and all the anguish you’ve gone through because of him, so this should feel wrong, off limits, but it doesn’t. maybe there’s a small part of you that hopes your relationship changes after this, at least a little bit. now that you’ve had a taste of him and experienced the unbridled physical heat of him, you don’t know if you can go back to hating him the way you have.

finally, finally, something gives and jeongin pulls away to pull his hoodie over his head and it doesn’t take any coaxing from you to convince him to take off the plain white shirt he’s wearing underneath it. no, he looks you dead in the eyes before he’s pulling it off too and you’re met with the soft, smooth, warm expanse of this part of him. he’s slim, which you’ve known, and he’s toned, which you’re learning about for the first time, but even so, every dip of him, every curve looks soft and gentle. you can’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out to touch him, drunkenly mesmerized by just how beautiful jeongin really is.

“well, come on, pretty girl,” he says once he’s finished peeling his shirt off and thrown it to the floor. when you look at him a little confused, his dark eyes roll and he smiles a bit, letting his hands tug at your sweater. “it’s only fair.”

you let him, maybe too easily, pull the knit thing up and over, leaving your hair a little mussed and staticy, and you feel a little self-conscious about the situation now. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he leans back in to kiss you and coax you out of the shirt you’d worn underneath your sweater. his hands are hot on your cheeks as he all but pulls you into him; suddenly, you don’t really care all that much anymore. he pants lightly into your mouth, chasing your lips when you pull away to take off your shirt and you swear it looks like his world stops when he hears the soft shuffle of your shirt when it drops to the floor next to him.

his eyes open then and he takes all of you in that you’ve been gracious enough to reveal to him, and as much as you expect him to go back to selfishly taking your breath away, you can’t say you’re too surprised when his mouth finds the underside of your jaw, the side of your neck, your collarbone, the skin just above the smooth hem of your bra. you can’t even be mad that somewhere along the way, he’s left darkening hickeys and other marks in his wake because he’s working almost expertly at you, hitting all of the right buttons as his breath fans hot and wet against your skin, his fingers working deftly to get your bra off.

“damn,” he mutters to himself once he’s finally slid the offending garment off of you.

in an effort to play coy, you smile and lean back a little, letting him get a full look at you. “like what you see?”

you can tell it takes everything in him not to laugh at you for such a cliche line because you’re trying not to laugh either, but he recovers quicker than you expected him to. he straightens up, leans in, continues his winding, teasing trail of kisses and bites across your chest before he answers. “you might be a lot prettier than i give you credit for.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to even think about replying before his lips, slick with spit, close around one of your nipples. his tongue works over it, your skin pebbling up under his careful attention. in rhythm with himself, one of his hands comes up and his fingers pinch and roll the nipple that isn’t in his mouth. it’s such a minuscule pleasure that he’s offered you and still, you’re melting against him, knees knocking against his hips, back arching to get more of him on you, and your fingers curling desperately against his shoulders, his spine, his neck, anywhere you can reach. when he switches sides, it’s equally as devastating and as it draws a gasp out of you, you tug on his hair and he groans, which only makes you repeat the process.

“fuck, how are you so good at this?” you say when he finally moves on, dragging his lips down the rest of your chest and then across your stomach. he’s still leaving traces of himself on your skin in the form of bites and hickeys, and you’re losing yourself in the feeling of it all.

“just because i was studying my ass off doesn’t mean i wasn’t doing other things too, y’know?” the way jeongin says it sounds so condescending, like he knows that you weren’t doing other things over those years, but when he stands back to his full height and comes nose to nose with you, his hands sliding from your thighs to your belt loops, it doesn’t matter so much anymore because it doesn’t seem like he’s judging you at all. his fingers pluck aimlessly at your belt loops as he looks at you. “wanna keep going?”

the relief that floods through you when he asks is honestly astounding and it takes all of your willpower to not come off as too eager. he’s kissed you too hot and left too many marks littered across your skin to stop now, not when you can feel the way your panties are sticking to you. you whimper a small yes and pull him in by his cheeks to kiss him, letting him handle you however he pleases, too lost in the feel of him to give too much thought to it.

he slides you gently off the counter and starts working at getting your jeans off your body. once he’s got the button popped open and the zipper down, he helps you slip out of them as his kisses move down your body once again. this time, though, he has access to the expanse of your skin underneath the pants and he’s making the most of it all. he presses two of his fingers to your underwear, smiling deviously when he feels it.

“yeah? you hate me, hm?”

you want to feel embarrassed, to melt right into the floor, but instead you mewl at him, already going weak in the knees. fuck, he hasn’t even done anything yet and he’s got you ready to cry out for something, anything. your hips try to press down against his fingers, to get some sort of friction, but, in typical yang jeongin fashion, he laughs at you and pulls his hand away entirely. there’s something dark in the way he looks at you, completely different from any other look he’s ever given you before and… you don’t hate it. rather, it sends anticipatory shivers through your body, raising goosebumps along your arms.

“please, jeongin,” you say, bracing yourself against the counter. you just want him to touch you so badly; you’ve never needed someone to touch you this much before and it’s absolutely burning you from the inside out, leaving you a shell of the girl who thought she was going home with the fraternity president up until maybe fifteen minutes ago.

“looks like i need to teach you how to have a little patience,” he says, which definitely hints at this not being a one-time thing (you hope… desperately). still, his fingers slip under the hem of your panties and pull them down in one fluid motion, his eyes trained on the dark wet patch you’ve left behind, a damning piece of evidence of your arousal. and for the first time ever, yang jeongin kneels on the floor before you, that dangerous glint still in his eyes as he looks up at you, embodying some heavenly ascension and your downfall all at once. it’s a beautiful sight.

once again, he grants you no reprieve, not a single fraction of a second to anticipate his next move or to think of something to say. no, like just mere minutes ago, his mouth finds you in your most intimate places and your knees almost buckle. his lips are hot against your clit and his tongue feels like heaven as he makes a show of licking up as much of your slick as he can. when he pulls away, you can see your wetness on his chin and lips, and when he makes a show of cleaning that off himself, of diving back in with some animalistic fervor, you just about fucking die because there’s no way your mortal enemy of years is eating you out.

one of his hands comes to rest on the back of your thigh while the other moves up, up, up still until his fingers are prodding at your lips. without even a second thought, you open your mouth and let them in, sliding your tongue over his spindly, boney digits. when you realize he’s looking up at you, his mouth still sucking harshly at your clit, you moan, any form of coherent thought entirely cast out of your head.

he shouldn’t be this hot, his fingers dripping with your spit as he brings them back down to his level, but he is and it’s absolutely ruinous. he pulls away from your pussy a second time, chin and lips still coated with your slick. as his spit-soaked fingers trail agonizingly slow, feather light from your clit to your entrance, you keen, your knuckles going tight as your fingers curl into the edge of the counter, looking for something to hold onto. you’re grateful for this because when he finally sinks his fingers into you, stretching you just enough, your knees genuinely almost give out and it shows. oh, it shows.

“barely even done anything,” he says, voice dripping with noncommittal condescension. “barely given you anything and you’re still trembling. who knew you’d be such a needy little whore, huh?”

the name comes from him like it’s absolutely nothing, a regular part of his vocabulary and you want to reprimand him for it, to tell him not to call you names like that. he knows, though, that you like it because you clench desperately around his fingers. denying his accusation would be useless because he’s got the proof to throw right back in your face. he’d do it too, get off on the fact that he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger right now that you’re a mess for him so easily. so you nod, trying fruitlessly to get him to move.

“yeah?” he says, almost mocking your whimpers and laughing when you nod again immediately, seeking his approval. “i want you to say it out loud. if you can even do that much, seeing as you’re already going dumb from so little… are you a needy… little… whore?”

he punctuates every drawn out word of your new title with a thrust, finally giving you what you’ve been craving so desperately. you almost sob, but you’ve still got a bit of dignity left so you do your best to bite it back, trying to steel yourself and level your voice.

“yes!” you answer and even though it doesn’t come out with a sob, it sounds more along the lines of a whimper, which you know will drive his ego up even higher. you don’t care, can’t care, not when he’s got two fingers buried in your pussy and expertly seeking out the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “god, yes. please, please, jeongin!”

“there it is.”

he finally grants you more of the friction you need, letting you roll your hips against his touch. his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling easily to press against that elusive spot, and eventually, he bows his head in to start working at your clit again, nipping and sucking. he chuckles into you when you moan or whimper, and his free hand keeps your hips pinned back against the cabinet. every little thing he does has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your thighs, shaking violently, threatening to close around jeongin’s head. one particularly strong thrust, timed perfectly with his tongue playing with your clit, has you on the absolute verge.

“fuck,” you keen loudly, suddenly incredibly glad that the party is two floors away and nobody is up here to hear you moan brokenly. “jeongin, i- fuck, i’m gonna come.”

he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, leaving you to whine at the loss of his heat. his fingers press a little bit deeper, a little harsher into your cunt, making up the difference. “then come.”

it sounds like a demand, an order, and who are you to deny him? especially when he’s been fingering you like nobody’s ever fingered you before and given you the best head of your entire life? especially when he’s kneeling between your legs looking so fucking ethereal and unreal? so you do, letting your orgasm rip through you, your pussy clenching around his fingers and your throat letting out the most debauched, pornographic moans you’ve ever heard, all while jeongin watches from between your legs, seemingly proud of his work.

“good fucking girl,” he says when he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt. they’re absolutely covered in your cum and he makes a spectacle out of slipping his digits into his mouth, sucking them clean and tasting you once again. “taste so good. wanna try?”

his clean hand grips your jaw and pulls your lips to his. you let his tongue slip into your mouth without him even having to ask and you can taste yourself on him. the moan you let into his mouth is so airy and debased that it doesn’t even sound like you.

when he pulls away, there’s the biggest grin on his face. the loss of his warmth leaves you reeling once again, desperate to have him on you in whatever way you can, but you realize that his hands are working at getting his pants down and all is okay. you help him with the belt and the button, and when he shimmies out of his jeans, you can see the dark wet patch on his boxers. some part of you wants to make a joke about it like he’d done to you earlier, but you hold back on it out of fear for what he will (or won’t) do. instead, you watch intently as he pulls down his underwear and his cock, the tip red and smeared with precum, is released.

your mouth waters and you feel proud that you’d been the cause.

entranced, you don’t even put up a fight when jeongin’s hands find their way to your hips and turn you around, bending you over the counter. you can see him in the mirror behind you, head tipping back when he sees the way you’re dripping down your thighs.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

it’s rhetorical, but you start to laugh anyways when he slides his cock into you without warning, breaking your giggle suddenly. he fills you so nicely and you can’t help the way you moan at the feeling of being stuffed so well. when you’d see his dick just moments ago, it was big, but you could never have accounted for just how big it actually is and the way it feels buried to the hilt inside of you.

“jesus,” he says, mostly to himself. “feel so fucking good around me. like this pussy was made for me.”

“move, please.” they’re the only two words you can think to say. he’s stretching you just right, but you want him to do something, you need him to do something.

it must be a good enough plea on your part because he complies. his hands press bruises into your hips as he sets a wild pace, thrusts absolutely brutal as he fucks you over a sink in a frat house bathroom. your hands are scrabbling across the countertop, searching for anything to find purchase on as you whine and cry into the tile. you don’t know how long you’re going to last, but you want to draw this out for as long as possible because his cock feels too good inside of you to not do everything you can to stay in this moment.

“getting fucked so good you’re crying?” jeongin questions, his voice rough. he pulls you up sharply by the back of your neck a bit, making you look at him in the mirror. “see that? you’re crying. so much of a cock hungry slut that you’re sobbing over it.”

you give him what he wants. you sob more, louder, nodding at him. you don’t care if it’s blowing up his ego because you’re so gone in the pleasure of it that it doesn’t matter. if jeongin says you’re nothing but a whore begging to be fucked by him, who are you to tell him he’s wrong? especially when it’s entirely true.

the pace he’s set is cruel, unwavering, but you meet all of his thrusts as best as you can, moaning at the way his cock drags against your walls. the whole thing feels world-ending like the second you come, the entire universe will cease to exist. it’s a little dramatic, sure, and it might just be the alcohol still in your system, but jeongin is breaking your back like it’s fucking nothing.

he pulls you up the rest of the way, his chest pressed seamlessly to your back and his hand crosses to the front of your neck instead, keeping you pressed against him as you look at each other in the mirror. the change in angles is devastating and your thighs shake with the effort of trying to stay upright. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are narrowed sharply with the same edge as his jawline.

“bet chan can’t fuck you like this,” he growls directly into your ear, maintaining eye contact through the mirror.

you shake your head in denial, opening your mouth to answer but moaning brokenly instead. “d-don’t know. n-never been with h-him.”

“but you were thinking about it tonight,” he responds, landing a particularly sharp thrust that has you arching against him. “bet you thought you were gonna sleep with him tonight, yeah? let him have his way with you?”

you shake your head again, not willing to provide a verbal answer. he’s right, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“that’s too bad because he’s practically head over heels in love with you.” his voice is smug and the smile on his face is pure self-satisfied when he watches your eyes widen in the mirror. “how do you think he’d feel about his crush getting fucked by someone else in the house that he lives in?”

you want to answer, you do, but the pleasure jeongin’s unleashing on you is almost violent, especially when he brings his free hand down to circle your clit with his fingers. all you can do is shake your head and sob out loud, fat tears falling down your face as he watches you intently, like he wants to commit this all to memory.

“think he could fuck you like this? huh? have you so desperate over his cock that you’re crying even before he starts moving?” his words are downright deadly and you’re just about ready to collapse against him.

you shake your head.

“no?”

you shake your head again.

“who can then? who’s fucking you like this? who’s got you whining like a bitch in heat for him?”

out of nowhere, jeongin’s hand comes down harshly on your clit and your knees almost buckle underneath you. it stings, but in all the right ways and you’re tempted to not answer just to get him to do it again, but you don’t think you’ll keep standing if he does.

“you!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and reaching a hand back to claw at the nape of his neck, anything to get him closer to you. “only you.”

“good answer.”

he slaps at your clit again and you fall forward against the counter, sobbing desperately into the tile. the only words pouring out of you at this point are broken pleas. you don’t even know what you’re begging him for at this point, but you want to fill the silence, no matter how dumb you might sound. in any case, you can probably guess that he’s proud of the fact that he’s fucked you completely stupid, what with the way his hips are snapping into yours impossibly faster.

“you gonna come?” he questions, almost pseudo-sweetly. all you can do is moan in response. “yeah? come on then, pup. wanna feel you come on my cock. you can do it.”

with a few hard thrusts and jeongin’s fingers working at your clit for the last time, you finally come undone. your vision turns white and you go limp against the counter, cheek pressing into the refreshingly cool countertop as you moan out for him. it feels like it lasts forever, the way you’re experiencing the most intense aftershocks. you’re so far gone that you almost miss watching the face of ecstasy that passes over his face as your cunt squeezes around him dangerously. just as he’s about to come, he pulls out of you, leaving you to whine at the loss of him once again and clench around nothing as he jerks himself off a few times before he comes across your ass and lower back.

his arms come to rest on either side of your shoulders as he leans over you, dripping sweat as he tries to catch his breath. you’re still boneless and limp, practically hanging on for dear life to the counter, when he successfully recovers.

he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, and takes a second to close his eyes, draw a breath, ground himself. without even a word, he moves to grab a washcloth from a drawer and runs it under warm water. when he drags it across your skin in an effort to clean you up, it feels heavenly, but entirely too soft after the scene you’ve just been through. like fuck, jeongin blew your back out and starting offering the sweetest aftercare ever without even saying anything. surely this is all just a fever dream.

“i didn’t hurt you too much, did i?” he finally questions, helping you stand and then sit on the counter.

you’re incredibly shocked by the gentleness he’s regarding you with, not touching you anywhere too harshly as if to keep you from cracking like a porcelain doll. it shouldn’t shock you more than him bending you over the counter and fucking you into next week, but it does. but you don’t mind this so much either.

so you shake your head again and smile hazily at him, raising a hand to brush away some of the hair that’s fallen back into his eyes. “no, i’m okay.”

he smiles at that and it might be the first real, genuine smile he’s given to you after years of knowing him. it’s a stunning smile, you think, wide and reaching his eyes, so much so that his eyes turn into what you can only liken to brush strokes from a calligraphy pen.

and you want to see it more.

“okay, cool,” he says. “if that changes, let me know.”

there’s a beat of silence as you stare at each other in the led lights of the bathroom, your hands still in his hair and his focus still on you entirely. you want it to last, you really do because this seems too monumental, too sweet for it to just be a singular instance.

“here,” jeongin finally says, bending down to retrieve your clothes from the floor. “let me help you put them back on.”

when all is said and done, you look the same as you did when you left the basement, but this time, jeongin has offered you his sweater in reparations for the alcohol still staining the back of yours. you look at the two of you in the mirror, at the way he looks standing behind you while you wear his sweater and it feels you with a strange sense of comfort.

“can you make it back home?” he questions, smoothing out some of your hair that hasn’t settled back into place yet.

“um… maybe. i only live across the street in the dorms, but-”

“that’s my hall, too, so… let me walk you home?”

you wonder how much of it is because he’s worried for your safety and how much of it is because he wants to spend more time with you. considering your own sudden change in feelings towards him, you suppose it doesn’t really matter. you smile and this time, you nod, and you love the way his eyes sparkle, even in the dark, when you tell him yes.

your phone is full of worried texts and missed calls from felix and chan, and you’re glad to see them so concerned over your wellbeing, but you can’t bear to tell them what you’ve really been up to; felix will be confused and chan… well… you shoot them both a quick text, telling them that you met with one of your friends from another class and she needed help getting home, so you’ve been caught up with taking care of her.

jeongin is waiting for you outside on the front lawn when you finally slip through the front door of the frat house, not wanting to run the risk of your friends seeing you two together. as hurt as he must be because of it, the smile on his face makes up for it entirely, especially when he extends his hand towards you and you slip your own into it, letting him intertwine your fingers. he says it’s just to keep you a little safer, but you know the truth.

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carousellights · 10 months

Text

otherworldly

pairing: alien!jisung x fem!reader

synopsis: You’ve been dating Jisung for while but something is bothering you. Being an over thinker, you assume that you’re the problem but Jisung assures you that isn’t the case at all.

Or Jisung has alien anatomy and is worried about being intimate with you.

☆: @hhwangsmoon @straywrds @l3visbby @armysantiny @hwajin @casualtaelyn @staybangchan @hopeladybug @midsoulz @aestheticsluut @venustired @abiaswreck @reallyloudstarlight @deathlypink @djeniryuu @rachabreathing @alyszaen @starlostseungmin @bokk-minnie @spicymooseeyes @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades

This fic is explicit. Minors do not interact. The warnings are under the cut.

warnings: minors dni!!, explicit, alien!jisung, monster fucking, jisung has tentacles, tentacle sex, unprotected sex, slight bulging, lots of cum like lots of it, jisung’s cum is an aphrodisiac, i’m not a monster expert pls don’t come for me TT, it’s just pure filth, p with a lil plot

You had been through every possibility under the sun.

As an overthinker, the explanations had ultimately ended up in you deciding that maybe Jisung just didn’t like you enough to be intimate with you.

You frowned at this.

Your seven month anniversary with him was approaching soon. Seven months and Jisung had shown his love for you everyday since the two of you had gotten together. Even your friends agreed that the poor guy was just as lovesick for you as you were for him.

You saw it, you felt it, so why was this the only conclusion floating around your head?

“I don’t know,” your best friend mumbles next to you as you finish airing your troubles out to him.

“Maybe his dick is small and he’s embarrassed.”

You shoot a glare in his direction at that.

“I doubt it. It’s probably just me,” you mutter before grabbing another chicken leg.

“Hey,” Changbin scolds before turning fully in your direction.

“I’m sure whatever it is has nothing to do with you. Talk to him. You have to keep in mind that he’s an alien. He probably can’t sense that he’s doing something wrong. Humans can’t even pick up on that shit half the time.”

Changbin had a point.

Jisung wasn’t like the rest of you.

When you first met, he had trouble communicating with you. Things were much different on his planet than they were on earth—that much you were certain of. There was a chance he hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

Maybe his kind didn’t have sex or procreate in the same way that humans did. Maybe your advances really did fly over his head.

You weren’t sure.

You had never thought about it until now, assuming that there were probably similarities between his species and yours. After all, Jisung was a pretty convincing human.

The thoughts plague your head until the next time you see your boyfriend. However, once he swings open the door, you feel all the weight that you had been carrying this past week dissipate.

With the way Jisung was looking at you, how could you ever believe for even a millisecond that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him?

Jisung pulled you into his arms, tucking his face against your neck. A soft chitter left him, something he had only within the past few months allowed himself to do in front of you. Your heart pounded at the thought of him becoming comfortable enough with you to let his alien quirks show in front of you.

But that was it.

The chittering was about the only thing Jisung had shown you. Other than that, you had heard him speak in his native tongue a few times with your other alien friend Minho, but that was extremely rare.

You hadn’t brought yourself to ask him why.

But then your best friend's words echoed in your head.

As much as you hated to admit it, Changbin was right. Jisung wouldn’t know what was bothering you if you didn’t talk about it.

An hour or so had passed after arriving at his place. When you were cuddled up with him on the couch and your focus had started to drift from the film you were watching—you finally found the courage to ask him.

“Ji, can I ask you something?”

Jisung looked a bit startled at the question, maybe even slightly nervous but nodded nonetheless.

You take a deep breath, trying to think of a way to phrase the subject matter lightly. Instead, all that comes out in your nervousness is, “Why won’t you have sex with me?”

Jisung sputters and you feel your cheeks heat.

Alright, maybe you could have worded the question a little less bluntly.

“W-What?”

“Do you not want to? Do you not like me like that?”

Jisung’s eyes are wide as he quickly shakes his head.

“N-No it’s not that at all!”

“Then…why?”

You feel frustrated. Not with Jisung, but with all the what ifs plaguing your mind—that have been plaguing your mind for the past week. To your relief Jisung notices this, suddenly looking less alarmed at the question and more somber.

Almost sad.

“It has nothing to do with you baby. Believe me I want to. I just—.”

Jisung stops himself.

“What is it Ji? You can tell me.”

Jisung’s mouth opens and then closes, his nose scrunching slightly as he tries to find the right words.

“Keeping the glamor on—it takes a lot of energy. I don’t think I could keep it up if we were to be intimate and I don’t want to scare you.”

Your heartstrings tug at how sad Jisung looks.

“Glamor?”

Jisung motions towards himself, “I don’t actually look like this.”

You blink twice at the newfound information but remain quiet so he can continue.

“Also,” he continues, but not before averting his eyes.

“I don’t exactly have the same anatomy as humans do. I—it’s different.”

“Ji,” you whisper his name before taking his hand into yours.

“I’m not scared of you. And I don’t care that you aren’t built the same way as humans.”

Jisung’s gaze returns to yours, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“But you haven’t seen me. The real me.”

You inhale deeply before lifting a hand to his cheek.

“Would you be comfortable showing me?”

There’s a bit of hesitation. Jisung is scared and you’ll admit his reaction does make you a bit nervous, but you love Jisung for who he is—not for what he is.

“I—I want to show you,” he starts as he leans into your touch.

“But?”

You can tell he’s holding something back.

“I don’t want this to change anything between us. After this I’ll never take my glamor off again. I promise I won’t I—.”

“Jisung,” you say his name firmly but softly.

He shuts up, his wide but fearful eyes meeting yours.

“Have a little faith in me, okay? I love you. This won’t change anything,” you whisper.

Jisung shakes slightly with nerves beneath your touch but ends up giving you a stiff nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

You pull him into a soft kiss, pressing one more against the cute beauty mark on his cheek—one that you can’t help but wonder if it will remain even after he transforms.

Jisung pulls away from you slightly before standing.

“Could you maybe close your eyes?”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile before slipping your eyes shut.

You can’t help but to feel nervous and anxious at seeing your boyfriend in his natural form for the first time. But you don’t find yourself scared at all—rather more excited than anything and grateful that he trusts you enough to show himself to you.

A moment passes, then two and Jisung produces a soft chitter.

At the sound, your eyes open and a gasp leaves you.

He’s—he’s—.

He’s beautiful.

You’re positive there isn’t a word in existence to describe Jisung’s beauty.

His eyes are much darker, almost black and doubling in size to where the whites of his eyes are nearly impossible to see.

His once brunette hair is now a shade of dark blue and slightly longer than it was before.

There were flecks of light dancing beneath his skin, like electricity was running through his veins rather than blood. You notice a few markings on his now pale blue skin. His temples and his neck along with parts of his arms that you could see bore the intricate design. You were elated to see the beauty mark you loved so much was present even in his natural form.

Your gaze moved from his elongated fingers to the two short antennas protruding from the top of his head, which slightly curled downward as Jisung grew visibly nervous under your stare.

His beauty was so—otherworldly, literally.

You had never seen a more ethereal being in your life.

You wanted to tell Jisung, but the words seemed to be lodged in your throat.

“It’s weird right,” Jisung whispered.

Your eyes met his then, noticing the slight worry in his obsidian gaze.

“No.”

Jisung seemed surprised at that, his forehead creasing slightly.

“Ji you’re—I mean look at you! You’re beautiful,” you say breathlessly.

“I—really?”

You see bits of that sparkle again, this time fluttering amongst the tops of his cheeks.

“Are you blushing?”

Jisung gapes at that before turning himself slightly away from you out of embarrassment.

“No I’m sorry—hey it’s okay,” you say as you stand, taking his hands into your own.

“You really don’t mind? You aren’t freaked out?”

You shake your head, stepping into his space before looping your arms around his neck. Jisung tenses slightly but then relaxes as your fingers begin to play with the hairs at the end of his neck.

“You’re beautiful Ji.”

Another wave of electricity flows beneath his skin.

You don’t allow him to say anything, instead opting to press your lips against his.

Jisung sighs against your lips as he pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. Heat spreads throughout your body when Jisung presses against you, his grip against your waist the only thing grounding you.

When you slip your tongue between his lips Jisung is suddenly reeling back, so fast and sudden as if he’s been burned.

“Jisu—.”

“Wait,” Jisung pants.

“My—what we talked about before,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widen in realization before you feel your own cheeks heating.

“We don’t have to talk about that today if you don’t want to.”

Jisung shakes his head, “It’s just. In this form everything is different. My tongue—it’s not the way it was before.”

Your brows furrow slightly, “What do you mean?”

Jisung takes a deep breath before opening his mouth and you’re taken aback by the sight.

Jisung’s tongue is a deep purple. You watch as it elongates and curls slightly past his chin. It ends about midway down his neck before it forks at the tip.

It’s then that you notice Jisung has fangs as well.

At your silence, Jisung pulls his tongue back into his mouth looking dejected.

“Y/n,” he starts slowly, “If this freaks you out I—I can’t show you the rest of me.”

You quickly shake yourself out of the haze the sight of his tongue had created in your head.

“No it’s not that I’m just—in awe I guess.”

Jisung pouts a little and your chest clenches.

“Baby this is new for the both of us. I’m getting to see you for the first time. It’s not freaking me out, you're just—extraordinary.”

Your comment seems to ease Jisung’s previous worries as he steps closer to you.

“Really?”

“Really Ji. You’re different, yes, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me. So I have nothing to be freaked out about,” you whisper as you reach up to brush a strand of long blue hair that had fallen into his eyes.

Jisung shudders under your touch, releasing a loud chitter—almost akin to a purr.

“Never,” he whispers.

With that you lean in to press a lingering kiss against his bottom lip.

“Will you allow me to see the rest of you?”

Jisung nods, almost eagerly, before pressing his lips to yours once more.

A giggle slips from you at his urgency but it’s soon replaced by a gasp when you feel his tongue prod at your lips. You open them slightly, allowing the wet appendage to lick into your mouth. It feels strange but not much different than the way his tongue usually feels. The way the forked tongue caresses yours has your knees weakening—forcing Jisung to keep you steady on your feet.

When you pull away his eyes are wide, ragged breaths slipping from him that match your own.

“Bed—,” you don’t even get the words out before he’s lifting you.

You yelp at the movement, still not used to his unnatural strength.

Jisung brings you to his room and lays you on the bed before crawling over you. His lips continue their attack on yours before trailing his kisses from your lips to your jaw and then down your neck.

When Jisung nips at your neck, you whimper slightly at the pinch of his fang against your skin.

“Sorry,” Jisung mutters shyly.

You shake your head before tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to your neck.

“More.”

Jisung complies, his lips attaching themself to your skin once more. You writhe beneath him as he marks your skin. A part of you hopes the marks turn a pretty purple like Jisung’s tongue.

When Jisung is satisfied he pulls back with a soft click.

You smile before taking his face into your hands.

“It’s cute when you do that, you know?”

Jisung looks confused.

“The noises you make when you’re happy.”

Jisung flushes at that. You let your thumb trace the tiny sparkles beneath his skin.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” you whisper.

The emotion in your voice seems to affect Jisung as well, his features displaying nothing but the fondness and love he has for you.

“I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said those three words to you, but it feels like it.

“I love you Ji.”

With that, your lover kisses you again—much softer than your previous make out session. Your hands find their way from his cheeks to the hem of his shirt.

When your fingertips brush against the soft skin of his stomach, Jisung pulls back slightly—disconnecting your lips.

“Are you sure,” he whispers, giving you a chance to back out.

“I want this,” you assure him, feeling like you could cry, “I want you—all of you.”

Jisung nods before lifting off of his forearms to sit back—straddling your hips.

He pulls his shirt over his head, exposing himself for the first time in front of you. You gasp at the sight of him, the way the glowing patterns on his neck connect to the ones on his chest. You can’t help but to gawk at how built your lover is, tracing the dips and curves of his chest and abdomen with your finger tips.

You reach for his basketball shorts but Jisung stops you.

“There's something I have to show you before you see—well,” Jisung is nervous again.

You sit up, hands running comfortingly over Jisung’s pale blue thighs as you press a gentle kiss to his jaw, “Show me.”

Jisung seems more nervous than he had been previously and you can’t help but to wonder why.

Then that’s when you see it.

A dark purple, almost black, slimy appendage creeps over his left shoulder. A movement to your right draws your attention—another one. They slip over your lover's shoulders, one dropping to lay across Jisung’s chest while the other reaches out towards you. You flinch slightly at the foreign feeling against your heated skin but soon relax in Jisung’s hold.

“They’re a little cold.”

Jisung releases a breath you didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Can I—can I release them all?”

You nod as your fingers reach out to the one against his chest. It leans into your touch much like Jisung does.

They’re cute.

Two more join the two of you, this time coming from around his sides.

“Wow,” you whisper in awe as you watch the tentacles move.

“Wait a minute,” you say suddenly and both Jisung and his tentacles still.

“Is this why Minho asked me if I was into tentacles.”

You knew from the state of his cheeks that you were correct.

“That sly sly man,” you huff, but there’s no mirth behind it.

Jisung looks slightly embarrassed.

“So if you knew this turned me on, why were you so worried?”

Jisung released his bottom lip before speaking, “It’s one thing when it’s a fantasy. It’s another when it’s real.”

You hummed as your eyes focused back on the tentacles, absolutely fascinated.

“How many do you have? Is this all of them?”

Jisung shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours this time.

“Then where…,” your question trails off.

Jisung clears his throat before taking you by your shoulders and laying you back on the bed.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispers as his eyes trail from your lips to your eyes.

You feel the way his tentacles drag against your skin—suddenly forgetting about your unanswered question as you nod eagerly.

“Please.”

That’s all it takes for Jisung to kiss you again, hands and tentacles everywhere.

Jisung removes your shirt with help from one of the appendages. Once you are exposed Jisung’s mouth finds one of your nipples while a slimy tentacle finds the other.

“Fuck,” you whine as you arch into both of them.

Jisung sucks in tandem with the tentacle, bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“Jisung,” you whimper his name as he rolls your bud between his teeth.

Heat pools in your core at the sensation, causing you to buck your hips up against his. Jisung’s eyes don’t leave yours for one second. He observes the way your face contorts at the pleasure he’s giving you.

You nearly cry when Jisung’s warm mouth leaves you.

“Let me taste you,” Jisung practically begs, a soft whine leaving his throat as he presses his face against your stomach, nuzzling slightly into it.

It’s only at the mention of him tasting you that you notice how sticky your thighs had become.

“Fuck Ji—please just do something.”

Jisung slides down your front at the plea. He doesn’t waste any time removing your shorts along with your underwear. The skin of Jisung’s palms is hot against yours where he parts your legs.

A low vibration leaves him—a sound you haven’t heard before, but one that leaves your body tingling nonetheless.

“You’re so wet.”

The observation comes out in disbelief. You’ll admit that the wetness between your thighs is a first. You’ve never been so ready and aching for someone in your life.

“Ji—tongue please.”

Somehow his dark gaze turns even darker, his lids are heavy as his focus zeros in on your center. Two of his tentacles have taken the place of his hands; holding your legs spread open for him.

The feeling makes you clench around nothing.

Jisung mumbles to himself—something in his own language that you’ve heard him utter once or twice before.

You watch as his forked tongue drags across his lips before he inches closer. Your body tenses in anticipation at the feeling of his breath ghosting against your core.

Then, after what feels like ages, Jisung finally tastes you.

The sound you let out is obscene. You feel your lover everywhere all at once; his hands gripping your waist as he devours you, two of his slimy tentacles restraining your legs, the third now wraps across your chest, it’s suckers continuing to abuse your nipples and the fourth you feel against your neck—slowly creeping up the side of your jaw.

Jisung’s tongue is like no other, making you see the stars—hell the entire galaxy.

He focuses on your throbbing clit at first, his forked tongue doing wonders before gently lapping at your lips and collecting your essence with every swipe.

Then you feel his fingers spread you wider before licking deep into you.

You feel too far gone already.

Your mind trails back to earlier—to the length of his tongue. You wonder how far it could go? How deep could it reach within you?

The sounds Jisung makes as he eats you out only makes you wetter. It’s absolutely obscene. If it wasn’t for the wet sounds coming from between your thighs, it’s the way he grunts against your heat. As if bringing you pleasure in turn brought him pleasure.

It isn’t long before you feel the tip of his tongue against the soft spot inside you.

“Fuck,” you cry out as your fingers find purchase in soft strands of blue hair.

Jisung physically shudders against your pussy when your fingers accidentally brush his antennas.

Sensitive. Good to know.

When your head lolls to the side, your lips meet the tip of Jisung’s tentacle. Without thinking your mouth falls slack, just enough for the appendage to slither its way in.

A muffled moan leaves you and Jisung at the action. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer—

With a muffled cry you find your release, accidentally biting down on the appendage in your mouth, causing it to withdraw from your lips. You want to chase after it, missing the weight of it on your tongue but you feel too weak.

Too fucked out to even think.

Jisung carefully removes himself from your core—face now shining with your essence.

Your cheeks heat at the sight.

“Was that okay?”

You huff out a laugh at the unexpected question.

Jisung, who was currently sporting the remains of a very intense orgasm on his face, was asking if it was okay—if he was okay.

“Are you kidding? That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.”

Jisung looks more confident at the words and your heart swells.

“Come here,” you reach out towards him, making small grabbing motions with your hands.

Jisung complies, making his way back into your arms—but not before wiping his face against his abandoned shirt.

You taste yourself on his lips when they finally meet.

The kiss isn’t gentle by any means and both of your hands are everywhere, wanting to touch every inch of the other. Your hands make their way to the front of Jisung’s shorts—elated to touch him only to end up slightly confused.

Where you’d assume Jisung’s dick to be there was—well, nothing?

Jisung still shuddered as your palm grazed over a particular spot—mouth falling open in a silent moan.

The more you rubbed the more you started to feel a soft lump—or two?

“Ji where's your dick?”

Jisung huffs out something between a laugh and a moan before raising up.

“It’s there it’s just—we’ll you’ll see.”

Jisung removes his shorts and underwear in one go. He looks at you and then back down at himself.

“Is it,” you start as you prop yourself up on your forearms.

“It’s inside.”

Jisung’s anatomy wasn’t at all what you had expected.

There, laying just a little ways below his pelvis, was a soft purple slit. It pulsed slightly, a slick, iridescent liquid coating it.

Your mouth watered slightly at the sight. You would have pushed him to the bed and licked it up but something stopped you—a movement from inside the slit.

Two small tentacles slivered out of it—looking almost identical to the bigger ones protruding from Jisung’s back.

“You asked where the rest of them were,” Jisung voices, “I have seven in total.”

“Seven? You mean…”

Jisung nods, gulping nervously.

A gasp catches in your throat as the seventh and final tentacle emerges. Although this one is shaped differently—much different.

It has ridges and is thicker than the others but shorter in length. The girth of it makes you gulp.

It looks more like a dick than you would have thought. It’s a pretty blue shade just like his skin but gradually becomes purple towards the head.

It’s monstrous and it has both your gut and pussy clenching with excitement.

You recall Changbin’s words, thinking he would eat them if he were to know the truth.

Jisung wasn’t small, not in the slightest.

You watch as that same pearly substance from before pool at the tip before dripping off and onto your stomach.

You reach out to scoop it up and bring it to your lips but Jisung stops you, a slight panic in his eyes.

“Don’t—it’s an aphrodisiac. It’s much more potent when consumed orally.”

Your eyes widen.

“Will it—how does it—,” you flush when you can’t find the proper words.

Jisung smiles but it’s more of a smirk.

You’re relieved that he’s feeling much more comfortable now.

“It’s for mating—to help the process be more bearable.”

“Mating?”

Jisung hums before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll tell you more about it later. But right now I really need to be in you.”

You nod hurriedly before grabbing the back of his head and bringing his lips to yours in a rushed but soft kiss.

“Please Ji.”

Jisung’s features grow slightly dark, sending a wave of excitement through your body.

“So good,” he growls and you shiver, “Begging for me like this. You’re so fucking cute.”

Your thighs press together at that.

This side of Jisung was new, but definitely not unwelcomed.

“Don’t worry pretty,” he presses one final kiss to your lips.

“I’ll give you what you want—what you’ve been fantasizing about.”

“What I’ve been fantasizing about.”

That’s when you feel it, one of the smaller tentacles snaking between your legs. Your body tenses at the foreign feeling despite your excitement.

“Relax baby—gotta prep you first.”

You listen to him, letting your legs fall open once more. The tentacle is cold against your heated core but it feels so good.

Its movements aren’t rushed by any means, taking its time rubbing between your lips, circling your clit—building up the intense heat inside you with its teasing touches before it finally prods at your entrance.

You moan as you watch it disappear between your legs.

It’s slightly thicker than Jisung’s tongue but it doesn’t reach as far.

You’re practically panting when you notice the other smaller tentacle wrap itself around Jisung before giving a firm tug and then another.

Jisung shudders at the movement.

You’ve never seen anything hotter in your life—watching as it moves up and down him, the tip of the tentacle teasing his weeping and sensitive head.

When you shift your gaze you find Jisung’s already on you. The intensity of his stare has you clenching around the tentacle buried deep within you.

Your head falls back against the pillow, fingers reaching out to grip at anything you can as your back arches in indescribable pleasure.

That’s when you feel Jisung’s fingers between yours. The action has your heart fluttering. Even in the midst of the filthiest sex fantasy you’ve ever had being brought to life—Jisung is still so gentle and loving with you.

“Can I add the other?”

You think you nod because in the next second you feel the other tentacle that had been wrapped around Jisung push into you. The feeling of them gliding next to each other inside you had you leaking so much.

You were certain Jisung’s sheets were doomed.

A tingling sensation begins at your entrance and a slight unfamiliar heat spreads inside of you as the tentacles continue to penetrate you.

“Ji,” you find your voice—almost embarrassed at how breathy and fucked out you sound.

“Yeah?”

“What’s—why does it feel—.”

You can’t finish. You’ve never felt so good in your life. The warmth inside you feels so—you can’t explain it.

“That’s the aphrodisiac. Does it feel good baby?”

You whine as the tentacles continue to stretch you, “Amazing. M’feels so good.”

Your body tenses on the brink of another orgasm, but this time it’s taken away from you.

A sting pricks at your eyes as Jisung retracts the tentacles. He shushes you as he positions his forearms next to your head once more, hovering over you.

“Want you to come around me this time,” he groans before lining himself up with you.

Jisung distracts you with his lips as his tip prods your entrance.

A choked gasp leaves you at the feeling.

“Shhh baby—relax for me. Good girl.”

The praises make your brain fuzzy as his girth inches further inside you.

Jisung is careful with his thrusts, pushing in a few inches before pulling out and repeating the motion.

You’ve never felt so full in your life.

Your lover doesn’t look any better. His eyes are squeezed shut—harsh pants leaving him as he presses inside you.

“Baby?”

Jisung’s eyes open at the pet name, his black eyes meeting yours.

“S-So tight. Fuck you feel so good Y/n.”

“You too. So good—so big. Fuck I can feel you here,” you whimper as a weak hand comes to rest against your tummy.

Jisung’s head hangs as a long moan leaves him, his hand coming to rest right next to yours.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hips slowing their pace slightly, “I’m not hurting you am I?”

You shake your head, eyes heavy as Jisung continues to thrust inside you.

“No—feels so fucking good. So full, so—.”

Your words trail off as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

You felt so fucking consumed by him.

Jisung whimpers when you clench around him. Every now and again you find yourself giving it a squeeze, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

“I’m close,” you call out as Jisung continues to hit right where you need him with every thrust.

Jisung nods, muttering a soft,‘me too,’ before hiking one of your thighs over his forearm and changing the angle—fucking deeper into you.

The room is filled with moans, whimpers and grunts as the two of you chase your highs together.

One thing was certain, Jisung had ruined you in every way possible.

“Fucking made for me,” he groans as his eyes focus in on where he disappears inside of you.

“Taking me so well. Made just for me, mine—all mine.”

‘Yours,’ you wanted to say but all that left your mouth were obscene moans.

You loved him. Fuck you love him so much.

A continuous string of whimpers and pleas fall from your lips and Jisung obeys every single one.

This felt right. He felt right. You had never felt more complete than in this moment.

Jisung’s cock continues to abuse your hole, pulsing deep inside you with every thrust.

Oh god how quickly you had become addicted to the delicious drag of his monstrous cock.

Your arms wrap around his as he changes positions, allowing your thighs to slip around his waist as he presses his front to yours. His thrusts aren’t as fast, rather slow and deep.

But it allows for you to feel him, every ridge and dip of his cock as he continues to fuck you.

“H-How do you say it Ji,” you whimper, arms clinging onto his shoulders.

“S-Say what?”

Your eyes meet his and you become overwhelmed.

“I love you Ji. How do you—how do you say it in your language.”

Your heart clenches you can see the glittery tears begin to pool in his eyes.

Jisung’s lips fall open and he speaks. The words are unfamiliar to you but you repeat them back to him as best as you can.

The look on Jisung’s face tells you all you need to know. He echoes the words back at you before leaning down for a soft but passionate kiss.

“Got so lucky,” he whispers against your neck—hips never faltering in their movements to bring you to ecstasy.

“I-I think I’m the lucky one.”

Jisung’s hips begin to falter and you can feel he’s close.

“I’m gonna come. Fuck I need to pull out baby.”

Your legs wrap tighter around him—violently shaking your head.

“Please Ji—want it.”

Jisung shakes his head, “It’s a lot. There might be too much.”

You refuse, profusely begging for him to give it to you.

“Fuck, how can I resist you.”

Your lips meet, hotly panting against one another and Jisung fucks into you once—twice—and it’s when your hands brush against his antennas once again that he comes, long and hard.

The feeling of him releasing deep within you prompts your orgasm. You’re shaking with your high, breathing heavily as Jisung fills you to the brim. You whimper at the feeling of your stomach expanding slightly with his load. It’s when you both feel it start to come out that Jisung pulls out of you—but not without a whine leaving the two of you.

He’s still coming in thick spurts even then and you almost come again at the sight.

After a few moments, once you both are covered in the glittery substance, he finally collapses on top of you.

The two of you lie together, breathing harsh as you both try to grasp what just happened.

Jisung shifts his weight off of you and falls to your side.

Before you can complain, he’s pulling you against him and nuzzling his face into your neck.

Jisung chitters happily and you feel content.

The two of you lay in silence for a while, Jisung chittering happily as you press soft kisses against his forehead, nose, lips—anywhere you can reach. He traces the marks on your skin with his fingers—both those he had produced and the suction marks from his tentacles. Those which had wrapped tightly around you, keeping you secured and safe against your lover.

A little while later Jisung reluctantly pulls himself away from you, retracting his tentacles to your disappointment and wandering off to the bathroom in search of something to clean the both of you.

Jisung is gentle during the cleanup, wiping your sensitive areas carefully and pressing gentle kisses to your skin—whispering about how good you were for him and how lucky he was to have you.

You could only watch him with a sleepy smile, still feeling the after affects of your intense love making session.

Afterwards, Jisung dresses you both before crawling back into bed with you and snuggling up to you once more.

You play with Jisung’s hair, giggling when his antennas brush against your jaw.

As you take in your lover's alien features, a thought crosses your mind.

“Hey Ji,” you whisper softly, careful not to be too loud in case the man has already fallen asleep on your chest.

Jisung lets out a low hum, it’s sleepy but indicates that he’s still awake.

“The glamor—,” you start and Jisung's body instantly tenses.

He sits up suddenly, eyes finding yours—instantly wide awake at the mention of his camouflage.

“What about it?”

The question comes out nervously, causing you to frown.

“I just wanted to know if it’s difficult to keep it on?”

Jisung deflates, looking like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll put it back on,” he says quietly before trying to shift out of your hold.

“No Ji,” you quickly stop him.

“That’s not what I meant baby. I don’t want you to put it back on.”

Jisung looks confused as he meets your gaze, “You don’t?”

He seems surprised and that makes you sad.

“No it’s just—you said earlier that it takes a lot of energy to keep it on?”

Jisung nods in confirmation.

“Then promise me when we’re together that you’ll take it off. I want you to be comfortable around me.”

Jisung’s eyes light up.

“You really mean that? It doesn’t bother you?”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief, “If it bothered me would I have let you fuck me just now?”

Jisung’s eyes widen, his cheeks lighting up in a pretty blush.

Cute.

“N-No, I don’t suppose you would have.”

You snort at that.

“You’re a dork you know that?”

“Your dork,” he echoes back.

You hum at that before pulling your lover into a soft kiss.

Your dork, your alien, your person.

Your everything.

That’s it!! Thank you all for reading. Thinking about turning this into a mini series but let me know what you think on @linosnoot or in the comments!

Special thanks to all of the authors of the monster fics I’ve read for inspiring me to write this! 🤍

Please remember to reblog and leave a comment if you like this so that others can enjoy it as well! Even two words would be enough to make my day <3! Enjoy!

#the emotions #૮ • ﻌ - ა #this is so perfect and soft

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carousellights · 10 months

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Synopsis: Working the night shift is not ideal. Especially when the convenience store is dead. Hardly anyone came in; the mysterious man that stands outside should make Y/n feel uneasy but instead makes her feel at peace.

Minho always comes off as standoffish. When he meets the quiet cashier he doesn't know what to do. Everyone around him was so tough and harsh. She was everything he wasn't used to; she was everything he wanted.

Paring: boxer! lee know x reader

Fic type: written series

Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, she fell first he fell harder, angst (very little)

Status: upcoming

#she’s coming soon #I’m so happy omg

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carousellights · 10 months

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I need to put a block on my phone for night time because why do I say stuff

#carousel just says things #carousel doesn’t know why she gets emo at night

0 notes

carousellights · 11 months

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The Boy With The Headset | Part 9

Synopsis: The world was always so loud. Moving so fast without any care for the people who might get left behind.

All the commotion of college seems to put Y/n’s life on autopilot. Her only safe haven being the almost absolute quiet of her dorm room.

Jisung can’t seem to handle the constant sounds of life preferring to drown himself in music instead.

The boy with the headphones who sits next to Y/n seems to blend their noises into a perfect melody.

Word count: 3.6K

Pairing: music major! han x student! reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining

Masterlist

“Are you ok?” After a few seconds with no response, she pulls him past the door and closes it. “Jisung what happened, are you hurt?” While looking at his face and body she doesn’t notice anything. With a hesitant hand, she reaches and cups his face. The tears continue streaming and he leans into her touch. His hands come up and grab the one on his face holding it there. While looking into her eyes and keeps trying to talk but labored breaths and hiccups come out in their place. Suddenly he stumbles as his legs begin to shake. Moving her hand she grabs onto one of his and leads him to the couch scared that he might collapse on her floor.

Glancing around the room she looks for a glass of water that she might have left out, but there’s none. Looking at his slightly calmed-down state she speaks up again, “I’m going to get you some water, ok?” While standing he feels a small tug on her shirt and looks down at her Jisung with his head lowered. His voice comes out small and cracked, “Stay.”

Sitting back down she grabs his hand as another hiccup comes out. While rubbing the palm of his hand she says, “You need some water I’ll be right around the corner if you need me I'm just a call away.” Jisung nods after a few seconds. She gets up and makes her way to the kitchen.

Opening her cabinets she looks for a big glass so he wouldn’t run out of water. While filling up the water the quietness is broken by a labored breath followed by a choked cry. Taking the cup she rushes back to the sofa and finds Jisung with his hands over his face. Rushing over to him she sets the water down and rubs his shoulders once he moves his hands from his face she hands him the water.

He takes ahold of the cup and tries to bring it to his face but a cry causes him to shake and spill some over the edge onto the floor. She quickly takes the water from him as his cries start to become heavier. Broken apologies tumble out of his mouth. Taking his head into her hands she wipes his tears and hushes him assuring him that it’s all ok.

Picking up the water she holds it up to his mouth and waits for him to take a small sip. As soon as he starts drinking he starts gulping it down. After a small while, she takes the cup away from his lips. He finishes the last bit in his mouth then gasp for air again. Setting down the glass she reaches out and holds both of his hands.

“When I squeeze we breath in” She gives a short example and gently squeezes his hands. “And when I let go we breath out.” She gives another example and looks at jiñas he nods the best that he can. While squeezing his hands she slowly inhales. Jisung follows the best he can with shaking breaths and short exhales while trying to breathe in. As she lets go his exhale is uneven and shaky just trying to match hers.

After a few minutes of slowly guiding Jisung back to more stable breathing, she picks up the glass and brings it back to his lips. He takes a few sips before beginning to take larger ones. She pulls the glass away from him, “Drinking too fast isn’t good for you. Just take it nice and slow we have time.” She guides one of his own hands to hold the cup, letting him have control over it. He takes smaller sips until he reaches the bottom of the glass.

Taking both of his hands in her own and squeezes slightly to her own breathing again. The slight shaking in his breath calms as she begins to speak, “Why did you come here?” She opens his mouth a few times but nothing comes out. When he finally gets noise to come out they break. Tears start to poll in his eyes and tip over.

Y/n pulls his hands and he falls limp into her arms. Letting the tears fall and stain her shirt. Broken words fall from his mouth but she can’t understand through the breaks, “Jisung it’s ok you don’t have to talk. Just wait until you’re ready.” He shakes his head in her arms. Confused she asks, “You won’t stay quiet?” Jisung shakes his head again as small mumbles reach her this time, “No time to wait.” Y/n pulls him in tighter, fully wrapping her arms around him “I’ll stay right here. We have all the time in the world right here.” After a few moments of holding him, she feels him relax and melt into her touch. His breathing slows and small snores tumble out.

As he lies down Y/n can’t help but think of what must have happened. Looking over to the clock she sees it’s already past midnight. Her arm is long asleep. While looking up at the ceiling she feels small twitches on her arm. Looking to her side she sees Jisung’s eyes start to open. The tears seem to block her vision as her voice comes out, “Please stay the night. Please, please I’m worried for you.” She tries to blink away her tears. When they finally disperse it sinks in how quiet the room has become. As the seconds stretch on the tears fight their way back again and begin to fall. He grabs onto her hand and says, “I’ll stay you don’t have to worry anymore.”

She stands and grabs a few blankets but by the time she returns his small shallow breaths already take control of the room. Laying them onto him she takes one of his hands and holds onto it lightly. Her breathing slows down to match his and her eyes start feeling heavy. Glancing at his soft features she noticed small tear stains and takes a tissue from the table and traces them under his eyes. The tear stains are still evident but the small tears are all swept away. Jisung’s hand twitches and Y/n stills. She squeezes his hand three times lightly before settling back down.

Her eyes start to feel heavy and as she blinks she holds them like that for a few seconds before opening them again. As she looks at his resting face she begins holding her eyes closed for longer, suddenly the few seconds become minutes. She shifts slightly and rests her head on his chest. The slight rise and fall of his chest stand out against his strong steady heartbeat. She slowly finds herself falling asleep.

Jisung blinks the sleep out of his eyes and notices a pressure on his chest. Looking down he finds Y/n resting, “Y/n?” He waits a few seconds but after no answer, he realizes she’s asleep. Had she hung off the side of the sofa all night? What was he thinking of course she had. Looking over at the clock he sees it’s 12 pm. Slowly he moves so his legs hang off the side. She twitches. He stills. Please don’t wake up please don’t wake up. He holds his breath and after a few seconds, he begins to move again. As he leans up he makes sure her head is rested in his hands before gently setting it down. As he looks at her hanging off the sofa he knows she’ll feel sore. Slowly get picks her up and shifts so she’s fully laying on the cushions.

Jisung traces his fingers over the tear stains on her puffy cheeks. His mind floods with thoughts of her crying over him last night. His vision begins to blur with tears. Standing up he looks to the ceiling waiting for his tears to disperse the tears feel hot as a few slip down his face before he can calm down. Reaching into his back pocket he pulls out his phone seeing so many notifications from the dance crew and his roommates. Opening up Chan's text Jisung quickly types out that he’s ok and just has something to do. Swiping across his apps he orders some breakfast quickly before the phone dies.

Jisung sits on the floor this time and just looks at Y/n. There’s no way to back out of confessing now. Not after everything she’s gone through. His mind starts to race with ways to tell her. Writing a love note and leaving so he can deal with the repercussions on the phone. Telling her as soon as she wakes up so maybe she won’t remember. Everything just feels so cowardly. A knock on the door snaps him out of all the words he could say. He slowly stands and walks to the door. Opening it up he takes the bags of food and thanks the delivery person.

Jisung begins separating the breakfast onto two plates and taking out some utensils. Maybe this is how he should do it. A confession over breakfast. The ruffling of covers draws his attention back to the sofa where Y/n begins looking around herself panicked. Their eyes meet. Smiling he motions her over, “I have breakfast for us.” She stands and looks at the bathroom yawning, “I need to brush my teeth first.” Jisung pouts and tries to convince her to stay with him a little longer “but the food will be cold and taste weird mixed with the toothpaste.”

Y/n sits down and Jisung points out what everything is and what he bought for her. Then silence falls onto them. So quiet he swears he can hear the pipes in the house, yet it’s peaceful. Looking up from his plate he sees Y/n and struggles to keep his mind under control. He places his fork down not trusting himself to open his mouth without a confession spilling out. The light from the window catches her eyes perfectly and they seem to sparkle with each movement. Turning his face back down he takes a quick bite finishing his plate. Y/n stands up and puts the plate into the sink as Jisung follows, “You can go brush your teeth now Y/n I’ll clean up out here.” After some hesitation, she walks off to the restroom.

After drying the plates and placing them back where he found them he hears his name being called from the bathroom. Walking over he’s greeted by Y/n holding a toothbrush that’s still in the package, “I found an extra toothbrush so we can brush our teeth together.” Jisung smiles and opens the package pulling it out and running it under the water. Y/n grabs his wrist and holds it steady while she puts the toothpaste on the bristles. While brushing his teeth he stays close to the wall making sure not to take up too much space and mess with her natural routine. Looking at himself in the mirror he sees his cheeks puffed out. His eyes shift to Y/n in the mirror to find her already looking at him. She quickly looks away and he looks to the side trying to hide his smile.

Jisung tries to fight his thoughts away but he can’t help but be happy by them. Thinking that if they ever move in together or spend the night together then this would be their normal. Getting ready together and taking care of each other. Spending the quiet mornings together in bed not wanting to leave each other's side. Y/n rinses her mouth and Jisung does the same they both lift their heads and their eyes meet through the mirror. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes his words pour out without a second thought “I want this to be our everyday. Brushing our teeth together and being domestic. I love this. I want you to be my forever.” He looks back up to see Y/n smiling and she responds but the smile never falters on her face “Our forever can start today.”

Jisung breathes out his next words, “Is it ok to kiss you right now” Y/n reachers her hands forward and grabs onto his shirt pulling him in “Always” Their lips touch and his hands go up to her face pulling her in even more. A slow kiss making sure she feels all the emotions that he could never express with words, the emotions that he’s trapped deep down afraid they would spill over. He smiles through the kiss wishing it could never end. As they begin to pull away he leans in and kisses her lips one last time almost as if to seal their fate. They look into each other's eyes both smiling the widest they’ve ever seen. Jisung pulls her in close as she starts to talk, “Let me finish getting ready. We’ll talk more about what this means after?”

As Y/n comes out of the bathroom she sees Jisung just smiling and laying on the bed. He feels the bed dip and looks over and smiles while looking into her eyes. Taking a small breath he asks, “So does that mean we’re dating?” She laughs and wraps his arm around her, “I mean all those study sessions kind of like dates?” They look at each other confused. Y/n smiles as she says her next words, “I would like it if we labeled our next one as a study date” Jisung nods and pulls her closer, “I’ll take you on a date better than just studying.”

Y/n starts playing with his hands nervous to ask the next question “So does this mean we’re official now?” He nods and pulls her slightly on top of him “I would like to take my girlfriend on an actual date now.” He sits up and continues to hold her she turns herself around to face him “So what’s our first date gonna be?” Jisung’s face lights up as he thinks of the perfect date “I have an idea just get ready and I’ll come by to pick you up once it’s all settled.” He starts standing up and rushing out of the door as he stops to hear her voice “Wait what should I wear?” He pulls the door shut while saying “Just what you normally wear no need to dress up.”

Jisung gets into his house and calls Minho as soon as he picks up Jisung breaks out into pleas, “Hey Minho I really need your help can you please come over and do something for me it’s urgent.” He doesn’t wait for a response before saying, “Ok thank you bye.” and hangs up. Opening up this closet he finds a clean bedsheet and tossed it on the bed. He continues looking around throwing clothes around looking for something to wear. In the midst of holding up outfits to himself and looking in the mirror before putting them back and picking something else, he hears a knock on his door and opens it to Minho.

Jisung shows Minho the bedsheet and snacks laying on the bed. The dancer rolls his eyes and turns to walk away before Jisung drags him back inside, “Please do one of your bundles it’s all I ask of you.” Minho glances at him and sits down saying, “No you can do it yourself.” as he is placing the items on the sheet and folding it over itself. Jisung thanks him and texts Y/n that he’ll be over in an hour. “Min do you think this shirt looks good?” He looks up and points out a different shirt in the closet while tying off the bundle. While handing it to him Jisung asks “What time is it?” Minho pulls out his phone and shows him it’s 7 pm. Sighing Minho says “I have to go to practice but I hope your date goes well.”

Jisung looks at himself in the mirror and smiles while straightening out the new shirt. He brings up his hand and pokes his cheek practicing to be cute for Y/n. He sees Changbin walk to the room through the mirror. Jisung coughs and turns his back to the man, his face heats up and he hopes this can be over with. Just as he thinks it’s over Changbin walks out and yells, “Jisung is going on a date!” His face grows hotter as he turns and slowly walks out of his room to see all the guys sitting down.

Jisung looks up and mumbles, “Y/n and I are going on an actual date.” The room burst into a frenzy of the boys ranting about how it’s finally time they settled it. Jisung interrupts and looks at all the boys, “Why are you guys not congratulating me for asking her out?” The room pauses. “You asked her out?” Jisung nods and Chan pulls out his wallet and gives Changbin $20 while sighing. Jisung starts to question it but Changbin stops him by bringing him in for a hug, “You’re getting so big.”

Jisung’s phone dings and he picks up his phone right away to see a text from Y/n saying she’s ready. He panicked outing the phone away and looks up, “guys do I look ok?” The guys say a few words of encouragement as Jisung looks around and grabs the bundle before patting himself down and leaving the door.

As Jisung walks he looks up at the sky and holds his extra jacket a little closer. Taking out his phone he looks at the weather app and makes sure that it’s not gonna be too cold. The app assured him that it’ll stay warm even when night falls and thanked the universe under his breath. Speeding up his steps he starts to see the lights of her apartment and breaks out into a small run, too excited to wait for the date any longer.

The sky already looks darker than when he left the house. The blues turned deeper and the clouds dispersed. Jisung walks up the stairs and can’t help but smile to himself repeating the words,”my girlfriend” and practicing a few pet names, “my baby, my dear, honey, love” Cycling through them he can’t just pick one. As he reaches the door he hears mumbled voices so he puts his ear up only to hear Y/n and hyunjin.

“Do I look ok?” Y/n looks at herself through the phone and adjusts her outfit and hair. Hyunjin nods for the tenth time and sighs, “What if he taking you to do?” The question stops Y/n and she looks around before telling him “Jisung didn’t tell me he just said to dress casual” Hyunjin motions her to back up and he looks at her outfit again, “you look really pretty but,” he pauses for a second “a date at night and dressing casual what exactly are his intentions?” He laughs as Y/n throws something toward the camera.

Jisung smiles to himself and rests his hand on the door while he listens to Hyunjin and Y/n talk about the date. He fixes his clothes and then finally knocks not being able to wait any long to take her to the stop he had only dreamed of taking her before.

He hears the hushed goodbyes between them before the door opens to her. All that’s on his mind is how Hyunjin didn’t do her justice. She looks more than just pretty she looks like everyone in the world shouldn’t open their eyes unless it’s to look at her “Your smile looks like a heart” Jisung looks around before mumbling a thank you and taking her hand in his own.

Jisung brings her to the fountain and then follows the path leading up to the small lookout point. The city lights fade out from this height and leave more room for the stars to shine and take over illuminating the scenery surrounding them. He lays down the bundle and unravels it for them to sit on. “Ji you know there’s a bench over there right?” He looks up from spreading out the food with a hurt look “It’s more romantic if we do it this way and you can lay down.” Y/n finally takes a seat and eats some as they talk. He scoots closer and takes the small bite from her hands and looks at her, “Open wide babe.” He slowly brings it to her and then kisses her cheek as she chews.

The food is long forgotten by the time Jisung laughs so hard he falls to his back and pats the space next to him willing Y/n to lay down. “You’re too far away love” he mumbles under his breath before pulling her in trying to get as close as possible. She finally rests on his arm while also resting one of her arms around his chest. Jisung looks at her and smiles before she looks at him and looks down to his mouth before her eyes flicker back up “I wanna brush my teeth with you every morning too.” Jisung moves his body and hugs her as tight as he can hiding his face from her. Wishing that if the is was a dream they could stay like it forever, laying under the stars as their stress floats away with only each other on their minds. When he finally pulls away Y/n kisses his cheeks, which have now grown sore from smiling, and then kisses his lips. Jisung smiles into the kiss and suddenly the only star Jisung cares about is Y/n.

Taglist 🏷️ @autumn-lv @burningchaosdeer @hipsdofangirl @shakalakaboomboo @myprwttyhan

#skz angst #skz fluff #han jisung x reader #han x reader #skz series #skz x reader #han jisung fics #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader

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