Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 5 - "Bug"
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin
ଳ Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
There was something about the spidersuit that made Jisung feel invincible. Maybe it was because the mask hid his identity or maybe it was the lifts in his shoes that made him a few inches taller. Either way whatever demon possesses him once he puts the suit on has led him to be standing in the middle of his crushes kitchen ready to help feed his cats. Jisung almost gets whiplash thinking about how just a few days ago just the thought of being in the same room as Minho almost killed him and now he’s held Minho’s waist twice. TWICE!
After Chan and Changbin had left this morning he tried to fall back asleep but as per usual all he could think about was Minho and how he was holding up. His exhaustion was overbearing but if he didn’t have confirmation Minho was still doing okay there was no way he was falling asleep.
Jisung wonders if Minho would be okay with him installing some sort of baby monitor or nanny cam so he can check up on him without having to leave his soft cozy bed.
The original plan was to just swing by Minho’s apartment and maybe look in through the window (in a totally non creepy way), then once he made sure Minho was safe he could go back home and get some much needed rest.
But as Jisung was swinging past Minho’s apartment his little white spiderwebs turned red and all of a sudden he’s being pulled towards Minho’s bedroom window. Jisung’s exhaustion works hard but the red string of fate works harder.
Jisung wonders if it’s weird how fast they’re cozying up to each other especially since Minho doesn’t even know who’s under Spider-Man’s mask but he likes to think that just solidifies the fact that they’re meant to be. And in Jisung’s defense he’s been crushing on Minho for a while now so if anything Minho’s the only weird one here. Jisung’s got years of yearning on his belt while Minho’s just met him. But Jisung can’t seem to find it in himself to care, he’s always liked weird.
Minho prepares the cat's food while Jisung leans against the counter and watches him fondly. The three cats have yet to quiet their wails of hunger and Minho is desperately trying to hush them. Jisung can’t help the butterflies that flutter around his stomach at the domestic sight. He wonders if this is what his future looks like. Standing in the kitchen with Minho and his cats early in the morning, just the five of them in their own little bubble.
What? It’s very normal to write y/n style fanfiction in your head about a man who you just officially met for the first time yesterday after protecting (stalking) him for a few years. Plus he’s basically just manifesting.
He makes a mental note to find a witch on Etsy to make a love spell to speed this process up.
After Minho finally gets the food in their bowls and sets them down you'd think they hadn’t been fed in years. They dart for their bowls and Soonie almost takes out Dori and the bowl with how fast he was going. Dori looks like he’s about to start a fight but once he sees the food again revenge is quickly forgotten. While the cats are devouring their meals Minho turns toward Jisung and rolls his eyes.
“Thanks for the help Spider-Man,” Minho teases as he also leans on the counter just a few feet away from Jisung.
“It looked like you had it all under control sweetheart. I was here just in case they decided to eat you instead for taking so long,” Jisung teases back.
“Oh please, if they wanted to eat anyone it would’ve been you.”.
Jisung gasps and dramatically clutches his heart.
“They would never!”.
Minho giggles at Jisung’s dramatics and pushes himself off of the counter to head to the fridge.
“I haven’t eaten yet today, are you hungry?” Minho asks Jisung as he rummages through his fridge.
It’s then that Jisung realizes just how hungry he is. The concerning amount of redbull and doritos from last night’s patrolling were not a five star meal and on cue his stomach rumbles. He toddles over to where Minho is standing to also look in the fridge.
“Starving, I’d eat cat food at this point,” Jisung replies as he tries to focus on the food in the fridge and not how good Minho looks bent over.
“Well if you want some cat food you’re gonna have to fight them for it. Don’t think you’d win though,” Minho says as he pulls some eggs, hash browns, and some toast from the fridge.
“Yeah probably not,” Jisung agrees as he looks at the cats scarfing down their food.
Minho places the food down and starts preparing to make breakfast. Jisung hops onto the counter next to the stove and swings his legs as he watches Minho do his thing.
Jisung can be a great helper in the kitchen when he wants to be but with his sore and bruised body he’d much rather watch Minho cook while he sits there and looks pretty.
While Minho was cooking breakfast Jisung was cooking up more of his little y/n fanfiction. Truthfully who could blame the man? He had the prettiest boy in the world whipping up something he sure was gonna be the best thing he had ever tasted. His friends constantly sang praises about how good Minho’s cooking was and he was finally about to experience it. Wow, the two things he adored most in this world, Minho and food. Today couldn’t possibly get better.
Jisung who originally planned to just stare at the pretty boy in front of him in silence, realized now was a perfect time to really get to know his future husband. So Jisung began berating the elder with just about any question he could think of. He started off tame with things like hobbies, interest, favorite colors, basically all the things he already knew from “protecting” Minho all those years so that he could get into the deeper more personal things without causing suspicion. Personal things like if he was a teenage mutant ninja turtle which one would he be. Jisung thinks people would say he was Michelangelo (the one in an orange mask) but he thinks he’d be Donatello (the one in the purple mask). Don’t ask him why, the explanation would take hours.
If a stranger had walked in on them they would’ve thought the two had known each for years with the way conversation flowed so casually. Jisung was determined to know everything there was to know about Minho and Minho didn’t seem to mind the unrelenting and constant questions spewing from Jisung. He indulged Jisung in any and every inquiry no matter how unimportant they seemed.
Once Minho had finished preparing breakfast he told Jisung to take a seat at one of the barstools on the other side of the counter. Jisung hopped off the counter and was ready to walk around but came up with a better idea.
Jisung shot his web on the ceiling and swung himself over the counter before doing a little flip and landing on the barstool. The momentum from the landing almost made him fall out of his chair but he quickly recovered and tried to assume a cool and nonchalant pose.
Minho stopped plating their food and stared at Jisung for a few seconds.
“Was that supposed to impress me?” Minho questions with a bored look on his face.
“Yeah, did it work?” Jisung asks with hope in his voice and a little out of breath.
Minho tries to bite back his smile as he looks down and continues putting food on their plates, “A little.”.
On the outside Jisung appears chill and unbothered by Minho’s admission but in his head he’s doing backflips as confetti cannons go off. If you listen closely you could probably hear a little ‘yippie’ come from inside his brain.
Once Minho appears satisfied with their portions he walks around the counter and joins Jisung on the barstool next to him. Minho sets down their plates and as Jisung is admiring the feast laid out in front of him it suddenly dawns on him that in order to eat he’s going to have to take his mask off.
As if Minho can sense something is wrong he looks at Jisung confused as to why he hasn’t begun eating. Jisung places a hand on the side of his mask as he looks down at the food longingly. It seems to click in Minho’s head and he looks up seemingly lost in thought.
Jisung is ready to accept defeat and live vicariously through Minho as he watches him eat. He knows he can go into the other room and take his mask off but the idea of not being directly by Minho's side is worse than any hunger pain.
Jisung turns towards Minho and is about to tell him to just eat without them when Minho appears to have come up with a solution.
‘May I?” Minho questions as he looks at Jisung hesitantly.
Jisung isn’t sure what Minho is going to do but he’d let the guy light him on fire if he wanted to so he just nods his head.
“The mask, is it attached to the rest of the suit? Or can you remove it without having to take off the rest of it?”.
Jisung doesn’t say anything and instead pulls at the fabric at the base of his neck to show Minho where the mask ends.
Minhos nods his head in understanding as his hands slowly make their way to the base of his neck. Minho slightly bunches up the fabric as he starts pushing the mask up Jisung’s neck. Jisung tries his best to calm his breathing as he feels Minho’s hands slide up his throat and under his chin. The higher Minho goes the more his pace falters, as if he's scared he’s going to scare Jisung off. But Jisung is so lost in Minho’s touch nothing else matters to him as long as Minho keeps his hands on him. Jisung doesn’t care if Minho ripped off his mask and revealed his identity and told the world who Spider-Man was, as long as he got to stay in this moment for a little longer.
Once Minho had slid the mask over Jisung’s nose his movements stopped, but his hands still rested on the sides of his face. Jisung fluttered his eyes open not even realizing he had closed them in the first place and stared at him.
“There,” Minho whispers, “now you can eat.”.
This is usually the point where they move away from each other and start digging in but neither of them make any moves to do so.
Jisung feels Minho’s hands let go of his mask and cup the sides of his face gently, like he’s scared that if he holds Jisung too hard he’ll break.
“Yesterday was exhausting, you should really eat something,” Minho whispers, still not getting any further from Jisung.
Jisung just nods his head in agreement as a dumb smile appears on his face. He’s sure he’s looking at Minho with the biggest and dopiest love struck look but he doesn’t think he could hold it back even if he wanted to.
Minho giggles and Jisung is sure he wants to hear that sound for the rest of his life. He briefly debates on how weird it would be if he proposed to Minho right here right now but a part of him thinks Minho is weird enough to say yes. Before Jisung can get down on one knee Minho removes his hands from his face.
If Jisung had just a little less decorum he would’ve dropped to his knees and sobbed. It felt like a part of him had just been ripped out of him. Jisung was sure getting stabbed would have hurt less. How was he meant to go on like this? How could Minho the light of his life be so cruel to him? Jisung could feel his heartbeat slowing. He could feel the color draining from him and his vision start to go black. Was this how he was meant to die? By the hands or technically the lack of hands from his soulmate? Okay maybe it isn’t that serious and maybe Jisung should’ve slept a little more but in this moment this was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to him. Jisung takes a quick glance at his plate to see if the burnt toast he’s smelling is from the beautiful breakfast Minho made or a heart attack.
His untimely death was however interrupted by Minho holding up a forkful of food in front of him and chuckling.
“Oh stop pouting, I’m trying to feed you since you seem to have forgotten how,” Minho says with a fond look on his face.
Jisung stares at him dumbly for a few seconds before slowly opening his mouth and allowing Minho to feed him. Minho makes a small noise of content and looks thoroughly pleased with himself that he’s making the younger eat.
No words are shared between the two as they eat. Minho continues to feed Jisung and while he chews Minho takes a bite for himself. They fall into a perfect rhythm as they bask in comfortable silence and prolonged eye contact. Jisung can see how red Minho’s ears are and Minho can see the blush on Jisung’s face and it only brings the two comfort that they’re both feeling the same way in that moment.
Once they’ve finished their food Minho collects their plates and sets them in the sink. Jisung’s eyes don’t leave his form as he watches Minho’s every move. Jisung wants to remember this for the rest of his life. He wants this memory engraved in his brain. So engraved that when the doctors do an MRI they’ll be able to see this moment in stop motion-esque photos.
Jisung lets out a quiet yawn and Minho turns to look at him with a fond and understanding smile.
“Tired?” Minho questions.
Jisung just nods his head as he rests his head on his right palm to briefly “rest” his eyes.
Minho's smile doesn’t fade as he makes his way back to his seat. Jisung expects Minho to sit back down but instead he grabs Jisungs left hand and lightly tugs him up.
“C’mon bug, let’s get some sleep,” Minho whispers as he and Jisung make their way to the living room.
Minho reluctantly lets go of his hand and Jisung watches as he grabs a blanket that was thrown over the side of the couch and throws on a random show. Minho lays down on the couch and once he’s comfy he opens his arms and the blanket silently inviting Jisung to join him.
While Jisung would like to say he very calmly and cooley walked over to the couch he basically lunged into Minho’s embrace. Listen, he’s been waiting for this moment for three years cut him some slack.
Jisung lays on his side with his head in Minho’s chest and wiggles his body to get comfortable. Minho laughs lightly at the younger's antics as he throws his arm around Jisung’s waist. Jisung briefly thinks back to how Changbin said that Minho was raving about his waist to Felix and a smirk washes over his face. While the urge to poke fun at him for it is strong he doesn’t want to risk Minho letting him go so he bites his tongue.
Jisung wiggles in Minho's hold a little more trying to get as close as he can to the boy and as if Minho can read his mind he pulls Jisung in more and lifts his leg slightly so Jisung can slot his own into the space. Finally Jisung feels content and lets out a happy sigh while he nuzzles his head into the elders chest.
Despite how comfortable Jisung is there is a small part of his brain fighting him to stay awake. He knows danger is inevitable and bad things seem to happen to Minho when he’s near so his thoughts start to spiral. A part of his brain is screaming at him to get up and train and watch over him but the other part is more relaxed and quiet then it has been in years. Jisung fears for a moment that he won’t be able to fall asleep with all these emotions and thoughts running rampant in his mind but suddenly Minho squeezes his side softly before moving his hand to the back of Jisung’s head and adjusting his body to lean slightly over Jisung’s. With Minho’s leg thrown over his, his torso slightly angled over his own, his arm keeping his body in place, and his hand cradling his head that's tucked into his chest, Jisung’s brain goes quiet. His senses are completely filled with Minho and Minho only, just the way it was intended to be. He feels completely smothered in the best way possible.
While Jisung slips into slumber he thinks about all the words that could describe how he’s feeling. Content, euphoric, bliss, serene. All good adjectives but they’re simply not strong enough. They don’t hold the right amount of weight, there’s not enough umph to them. Jisung decides he’ll have to google a stronger word. Man, he needs to make a list of all the words he’s gonna have to google just because Minho is making him feel things he’s never felt before.
Just before Jisung fully falls asleep he hears Minho whisper.
“We’re safe bug, I got you, I promise. Sleep.”.
Jisung sleeps better than he has in years.
A/N
"I promise I won't disappear for a long period of time" all women do is lie. But seriously y'all I'm so fucking sorry I did not mean to die again. Also sorry for the short ass chapter I promise their are longer ones coming SOON! I WILL NOT DIE AGAIN! But anyways I have missed y'all so much and I've missed writing Spider-Han and I'm super motivated so expect some chapters coming your way! I PROMISE! However if god forbid I take a little too long or you just wanna say hi or eventually see some drabbles that are taking up space in my notes app feel free to hit my line or follow on twt @ JupitersNewMoon! If you wanna be mutuals or just yell at me for a new chapter feel free to scream at me in my dms! Okay I adore you all so much let me know if you liked this chapter!
Thank you and I'll see you soon (REAL) (NOT CLICKBAIT)!
⋅˚₊‧ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 4 - Someone Call An Exorcist
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin
ଳ Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
When Minho opened his eyes he was greeted with the sound of Hyunjin whisper yelling something incoherent in the kitchen and the smell of something burning. He figured his two roommates were trying to make him something akin to breakfast in bed due to yesterday's events but as to be expected, it didn’t seem to be going very well.
Minho has always gotten on his friends asses for their proper use of the terms ‘baking’ and ‘cooking’ because if Felix texts him he’s baking something Minho will impatiently wait all day for whatever masterpiece Felix will pull out of the oven. But if Felix says he’s cooking something he’ll have the fire department on speed dial and amazon open and ready to buy whatever kitchen supplies he destroys in the process. It’s almost comical the way Felix is so extraordinary at baking but the second you take away the oven and flour all his common sense seems to disappear along with the ingredients.
Minho can poke fun at Felix’s lack of cooking skills all he wants but he knows that he’s gonna eat whatever burnt monstrosity comes through his door. Felix will ask how it is and Minho will lie through his teeth and tell him it’s the best thing he’s ever had. Not because he’s scared he’ll hurt Felix’s feelings but because Felix took the time to make it. Because Felix cares enough about him to try and cheer him up after he had a hard day. Minho will eat it all and love it because it’s Felix.
As if on cue Minho hears knocking at his door.
“Come in,” Minho says raspily sitting up in his bed.
Hyunjin enters first with a look on his face that tells Minho all he needs to know about how their little cooking adventure went. Felix follows in after with the breakfast tray in hand and a smile as bright as the sun on his face.
“We know you had a rough day yesterday, so we thought we’d make you some breakfast in bed!” Felix beams walking over to Minho’s bed.
Minho looks down at the tray and see’s what seems to be a sunny side up egg that turned into more of a scrambled one, hash browns that are more black then brown, and french toast that's so soggy he’s pretty sure they forgot to cook it after they soaked it.
“Thank you,” Minho whispers looking up at Felix with watery eyes.
Felix’s smile somehow grows even brighter and Minho has to fight the urge not to squint. Felix sets the tray in Minho’s lap and pats his head.
“We’re gonna head to school in a little, think you’re feeling up to it?” Hyunjin questions as he walks over to the other side of Minho’s bed.
School had not crossed Minho’s mind since he left it yesterday and the thought of sitting through a lecture actually sounded the worst thing that could ever happen to him. Well maybe not worse than that mechanical squidward coming back to finish the job, but it was a close second.
“Ah, I don’t think so-” Minho starts but is interrupted by Felix letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.
“OH MY GOD WHAT'S THAT!?” Felix squeals as he runs up to Minho’s window.
Hyunjin and Minho watch in curiosity as Felix climbs up on the desk that sits directly in front of Minho’s window. Felix slides it open and hangs his body slightly outside the window to grab something. Hyunjin gasps and runs to hold Felix’s waist to make sure he doesn’t lose his balance and fall out.
Due to the two bodies covering up most of the window Minho is unable to see what Felix was trying to reach. He feels a small pit in his stomach start to form as he thinks about what it could possibly be. Had that deranged man come in the middle of the night and left something on his window as some sort of warning?
What was probably only ten seconds felt like hours as Felix struggled to reach whatever he saw. Minho could vaguely hear the sound of Hyunjin nagging Felix to be more careful but everything sounded so distorted as his mind raced coming up with worst case scenarios.
After a few more grueling seconds Felix made a sound of victory and made his way back inside. Felix didn’t bother getting off the desk as he examined whatever he had found. He had his back turned towards Minho who was still in bed so he was unable to see.
Hyunjin peaked his head over Felix’s shoulder to get a look at what Felix was holding. The two boys were silent for a moment until they slowly turned their heads to look at each other.
Minho held his breath awaiting the worst when he heard probably the most ear piercing screech come out of both the boys. Minho winced as the two boys started making incoherent noises in a pitch only dogs could hear. Felix playfully smacked Hyunjins arm as they continued with their high pitch squeals. Minho, still having not seen what was on the window, started to grow impatient.
“Are you guys gonna show me what you found or are you just trying to piss off every dog on the block?” Minho questioned as he looked between the two boys.
Minho knew he’d regret asking right after he said it.
They both turned their heads toward Minho and adorned evil smirks. Minho raised his eyebrows and shifted slightly at their unsettling gaze.
“Actually scratch that, I no longer want to know,” Minho said as he side eyed the two before looking down at his breakfast.
“Oh so should we just throw away this note from Spider-Man?” Hyunjin asked innocently.
Minho, who had just picked up his fork, stopped completely in his tracks. He turned his head to look at Hyunjin so fast he’s pretty sure he heard it crack.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Minho warned as he eyed Hyunjin trying to figure out if he was lying or not.
“We’re not lying but hey if you don’t want it we can always just toss it back out the window,” Felix replied nonchalantly as he held the sticky note outside the window.
Scientists and priests around the world still are unsure how Sonic himself managed to possess Minho in that moment as he launched off the bed at record speed and damn near dove out of the window to grab the note.
Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed hysterically while Felix yelped in surprise as Minho basically teleported from his bed to on top of the desk in a flash. Minho yanked the sticky note from Felix and gently cradled it in his hands as if it were his first born.
All that was on the note was a drawing of Spider-Man’s head with a little heart next to it. They say a picture is worth a thousand words and for the first time Minho finally truly understands what they mean. On the outside Minho probably looked almost bored by the contents of the note but on the inside he was kicking his feet, twirling his hair, and squealing like a damn schoolgirl.
Unfortunately for him, Hyunjin and Felix knew him well enough to look at his ears to see his true reaction. What they found were his ears turning an almost comical shade of red.
Hyunjin and Felix squealed again at their friends’ reaction and started teasing the older.
“Oh my god Min you’re so whipped it’s adorable!” Hyunjin teases.
“Awee you’re getting all red you must really like him Min that’s so cute!” Felix coo’s.
Minho doesn’t have it in him to bite back at his friends like he usually would. All he can think about is how Spider-Man checked up on him last night to ensure he was safe. Minho wondered if it was a little pathetic to be this affected by a sticky note with just two little doodles on it but he couldn’t stop the butterflies from swirling inside him like a tornado.
“Hold on, we should frame this!” Felix says hopping off the desk and running out of the room.
Hyunjin and Minho chuckle when they hear Felix rummaging through boxes trying to find a suitable frame for something so small. While Felix is distracted Hyunjin takes this opportunity to talk to Minho.
“So how are you feeling, like actually feeling?” Hyunjin questions resting a comforting hand on Minho’s shoulder.
“I don’t know honestly. It feels like some weird dream I had but the fear of that evil Hrank wannabe coming back to finish what he started is what’s really getting to me.” Minho answers honestly.
“Hmm yeah I could see-, wait who the fuck is Hank?” Hyunjin asks.
“You know, the octopus from Finding Dory,” Minho answers matter of factly.
“Okay, respect, anyways, I think you should probably take today to just rest. Sure you didn’t receive any physical injuries but the mental effect this can have on someone is no joke. Also don’t feel like you have to fight this alone, you know Felix and I are always here for you. Whether that’s to listen to you talk, sleep in our rooms, or even make you barely edible breakfast. There’s still police patrolling the block and I’m sure Spider-Man is somewhere nearby. And of course if you want me to stay with you today I would be more than happy too. Please just take care of yourself and let us know how you’re feeling. We want to be there for you.”.
“Thank you Jinnie, seriously. But you’re not getting out of class that easily, I’ll be okay here by myself,” Minho says with a small smile as he squeezes Hyunjin’s knee.
“Worth a shot,” Hyunjin sighs and squeezes Minho’s shoulder comfortingly.
Hyunjin knows Minho took what he said to heart without him having to say it. Minho wasn’t a man of many words but they’re close enough to understand each other without needing to speak.
Felix bursts back into the room with a small picture frame in hand and slightly out of breath.
“It took me a while to find one that was close enough to its size but I figured we could just put a piece of paper behind it or something to fill the empty space!” Felix explains excitedly while he approaches his two friends.
Minho and Hyunjin watch with fond smiles as Felix places the sticky note and a similarly colored piece of paper gently into the frame. With the way Felix is handling the note you would think it’s worth millions of dollars and to Minho it is. Not only is it the first tangible thing he’s ever received from Spider-Man it’s also a confirmation that he’s staying true to his promise. Spider-Man is keeping him safe.
After Felix is happy with the placement he secures the frame and holds it up to show his friends like he’s a young boy who’s showing his parents his first ever art project.
“Thank you Lix, where should we put it?” Minho asks, indulging the younger.
Felix hums to himself deep in thought as he scans over Minho’s room. Hyunjin and Minho chuckle to themselves at how serious Felix is taking this.
Felix’s eyes light up as he sees Minho’s bedside table. Felix skips over to the table and places the frame down and positions it to face in the direction of Minho’s bed.
“There! Now it will be the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you see when you wake up!” Felix exclaimed very clearly proud of himself.
Hyunjin laughs while Minho’s ears start to turn red again.
“Don’t worry Min, I’m sure soon you’ll have the real thing to wake up to every morning,” Hyunjin teases while he hops off the desk.
Felix laughs this time while Minho swats at the back of Hyunjins head. Hyunjin ducks out of the way and sticks his tongue out at Minho.
Minho grabs some of the tissues that were on his desk and starts running toward Hyunjin. Hyunjin lets out a high pitched scream as he turns around and bolts out of the room. Minho stays hot on his heels as Felix is curled up on the floor laughing hysterically at the two. After a few minutes of chasing each other around the apartment Minho grabs hold of Hyunjin and wrestles him onto the floor in the hallway.
“FELIX SAVE ME!” Hyunjin yells thrashing around trying to get out of Minho’s grip.
Felix walks out of Minho’s room hunched over and clutching his stomach still laughing.
Hyunjin is laid out on his back while Minho straddles his abdomen. Minho uses his thighs to keep Hyunjins arms strapped to his sides and unable to properly fight back.
“WAIT MINHO STOP THIS ISN’T YOU!” Felix yells in between laughs.
Minho raises the hand he’s holding the tissues with and gets ready to shove them in Hyunjins mouth. Before Minho can seek his revenge he’s interrupted by someone faking a cough from across the hall.
All three boys turn their heads and see Chan, Changbin, and Jeongin standing across the hall looking between the boys with amused smiles.
Chan and Changbin are leaning on opposing walls with their arms crossed while Jeongin stands between them.
“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Changbin says, smirking at the three boys.
While Minho is distracted Hyunjin uses his chance to throw the older off of him. Minho lands on his side with a huff as Hyunjin scrambles to his feet. Felix is holding back a laugh as a blush creeps across Hyunjin’s face at Changbin’s suggestive tone. Minho rolls over to face the other three boys and props the side of his head on his hand.
“So harassing Hyunjin at school wasn’t enough you've resorted to breaking and entering Binnie?” Minho innocently asks Changbin.
It’s now Changbin’s turn to blush and he turns his head towards the floor.
“No, we just wanted to check up on you and we ran into Jeongin outside and he said he had a key so he let us in,” Changbin pouts quietly.
Felix can no longer contain his laugh due to Changbin’s expression and the rest of the boys join in.
Once the laughter starts to die down, Chan pushes himself off the wall and walks to where Minho is still on his side. He squats down and scans his eyes over Minho’s body.
“Like what you see?” Minho teases.
Chan just chuckles at him and pats his head.
“How are you feeling?” Chan questions softly.
“Good, for the most part,” Minho replies with a sigh.
“Well if you ever need or want to talk about anything you know I’m always here,” Chan assures him with a soft smile.
“Thanks old man,” Minho teases with an equally soft smile.
“You wanna go through another traumatic event?” Chan warns with the most menacing glare he can muster up. It doesn’t scare Minho though, he can see the smile Chan’s trying to fight back.
Minho and the others laugh at Chan’s “threat” as Changbin joins the two on the ground.
“So what was it like being saved by Spider-Man?” Changbin asks.
Minho doesn’t see the way Chan sends an actual warning glare to Changbin as he’s too busy trying to fight the redness threatening to overtake his ears again. Jeongin perks up at the mention of Spider-Man and joins the boys huddled up around Minho.
“What was it like web swinging!?” Jeongin questions excitedly.
“Were Spider-Man’s arms comfortable?” Changbin teases as he notices Minho getting redder by the second.
“Awe look! Min’s almost as red as Spider-Man’s suit,” Jeongin teases as he ruffles Minho’s hair.
Minho sends Jeongin a look so deadly the poor boy's soul nearly left his body. He leapt up from his spot by Minho with a tiny yelp and ran to cower behind Hyunjin. Hyunjin wraps his arms around Jeongin and pushes his head into his chest while he sways the boy back and forth.
“Leave my baby alone,” Hyunjin pleads dramatically.
“Tell your baby to shut his mouth before he finds out what happens to you when you say something stupid,” Minho threatened unseriously.
Hyunjin and Jeongin both dramatically shivered at Minho’s empty threat. Minho was about to get up and chase the two until Changbin put the back of his hand on Minho’s cheek and smirked evilly at him.
“I don’t know Min, the kids got a point. Why are you turning so red? Don’t tell me you got a thing for the little bug boy?” Changbin asked tauntingly.
Chan lightly smacked the back of Changbins head and tsked at him.
“Okay that’s enough if we don’t get a move on we’re all gonna be late let’s go,” Chan ordered the group.
Chan and Changbin stood up while Hyunjin very reluctantly let Jeongin, who was at this point gasping for air from the older’s tight hold, go. Chan was about to walk back down the hall when he noticed Minho still sitting on the floor.
“You coming?” Chan asked as he reached his hand out for Minho to use.
Minho gratefully used Chan as leverage to stand as he moaned and groaned the whole way up.
“Pft, yeah and I’m the old man,” Chan muttered under his breath.
“This conversation is so not over,” Changbin whispered from behind Minho who jumped at the younger's sudden presence.
Hyunjin giggled at his friends banter as he grabbed Minho’s shoulder and turned them both to walk towards Minho’s room.
“Come on old man, let's get you back to bed,” Hyunjin joked.
The other four boys turned to look at the two as they made their way further down the hall. Sensing their stares Hyunjin looked back and spoke again.
“Minho’s not going to school today, he’s gonna take it easy. Don’t ask if he wants someone to stay with him, I already tried that.”
Minho turned around but before he could expose Hyunjin for just wanting to skip class he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. A little startled, he looked down and found Jeongin wrapped tightly around his torso. It took a second to click but once it did Minho reciprocated the hug and smiled.
“Stay safe Min,” Jeongin murmured into Minho’s chest.
“You know, since I won’t be at practice today, someone's going to need to fill in for me,” Minho says, slightly pulling away from the younger to look in his eyes.
Jeongin looks at Minho with widened eyes and tilts his head questioningly.
“Someone’s gonna need to hold those losers accountable and well Jinnie and Felix are kind of soft captains so how’d you like to be one of the captains today? Hold down the fort until I get back?” Minho proposed.
“I, uh, me? You want me to be a captain while you’re gone?” Jeongin asks in disbelief.
Despite Jeongin being one of the newer members of the dance team no one could deny the boy’s raw talent. He had a way of grasping everyone in the room's attention on and off stage. Not to mention he was far more mature than half the team. Minho saw himself in Jeongin and knew the boy was going to go on to do great things. He meant every word he said when he told Jeongin that there was no one better to fill his role even for just a day. Jeongin was always the first one to offer help to anyone who needed it just like Minho. He spends hours in the studio perfecting routines alongside Minho. He could be strict or gentle when needed just like Minho. Damn, maybe Jeongin was Minho’s kid.
“Yes, yes, yes of course, I’d love to! I promise I won’t let you down!” Jeongin exclaimed excitedly, letting Minho go to give a salute.
“I know you won’t,” Minho replied, giving a small salute in return.
Jeongin turned around and skipped down the hall excitedly towards the others. The other three boys laughed at how Jeongin was practically bouncing off the walls with joy.
“See ya Min, call us if you need anything!” Chan says as the four boys continue their way to the door.
“Even if it’s just to fluff your pillow or something, we’re always here for you!” Felix adds.
“Later bug lover try not to get kidnapped!” Changbin ribbed while Chan smacked the back of his head again.
Changbin let out a dramatic groan and held the back of his head and whined. Before he could complain Felix interrupted.
“Oh by the way, where's Sungie?” Felix questioned Chan.
“Ah he stayed up super late last night to finish something and was super exhausted today. He’s been working hard recently so we didn’t push him to go today,” Chan half lied.
“He isn’t overworking himself right? Actually why am I asking you, you think pushing yourself to the brink of death is normal when it comes to projects,” Felix sighs.
‘Hey I’m not that bad!” Chan defends.
The three boys stare at him with unamused faces and Chan sighs.
“He’s fine really, it’s just been a lot of late nights. We agreed it would be best if he caught up on some sleep,” Chan half lied again.
“What kind of projects is he working on so late in the night?” Jeongin questions.
“Oh well apparently he’s a stripper,” Changbin says trying to hide the smirk on his face.
“WHAT!?” Felix all but screams as they round the corner and get farther away from Minho and Hyunjin.
The two boys laugh as they head into Minho’s room.
“Alright old man hop back in bed, it's time to rest,” Hyunjin says, lifting the forgotten breakfast off of Minho’s bed so he can lay down comfortably in it.
Minho rolls his eyes but still gets in his bed and waits for Hyunjin to pull the covers over him to tuck him in. Hyunjin sets down the breakfast on Minho’s side table before he tucks Minho in. After Minho is secured Hyunjin cups Minho’s cheeks and kisses his forehead.
“Remember if you ever need anything we’re just a call away,” Hyunjin says while he smooths out Minho’s hair.
Minho just nods his head and enjoys the comforting touch.
“We’ll see you when we get back. Your delicious breakfast is cold now and I know that’s absolutely heartbreaking because it probably would’ve been the best thing you have ever tasted but make sure you eat something today.”.
Minho nods his head again and sinks further into his bed. Hyunjin pats Minho’s head one last time before leaving his room and shutting the door softly.
Minho lays in bed for about half an hour after his friends leave before he hears his cats start meowing. He realizes he hasn’t fed them yet this morning and begrudgingly untucks himself from his bed and heads towards the living room.
By the time he starts dishing out their portions the cats have decided to act like they hadn’t been fed in weeks. They start meowing so loud Minho’s afraid they might get a noise complaint but right before he’s about to shush them they suddenly stop. Minho looks at them confused by the sudden halt in their little choir performance and see’s that they’re all staring intensely down the hall.
Minho’s heart skips a beat as joins them to see what they’re looking so intently at. He doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary and he’s ready to just chalk it up to them being weird before he hears the sound of knocking coming from somewhere down the hall.
Minho has watched many scary movies in his lifetime and so he immediately thinks he’s about to get possessed by some demon that’s been dormant in their apartment for billions of years until the symphony of cats woke it up. He starts accepting death for the second time this week until he hears the knocking again but this time it sounds… unusual.
He hears it again and again and realizes that whoever is knocking is doing it to the beat of a song. Now Minho is no ghost buster but he’s pretty sure a demon wouldn’t use a song with such an upbeat tempo if they were trying to scare him.
Minho starts scooting closer and closer to where he thinks the noise is coming from and stops when he gets just outside his room. The knocking still hasn't stopped and he swears he recognizes it.
He slowly opens his door and peeks his head in. He looks toward his closet and sees a shadow casted on the doors, whoever was knocking was outside his window.
Minho freezes as his mind starts to replay the events of the day before but he is quickly snapped out of it when he realizes that if the villain was trying to come back for him he probably wouldn’t be knocking.
Minho focuses on the beat as he opens the door wider, preparing to look at whoever or whatever was on the other side of his window. He goes through every song he knows as his shaky hands push the door open farther. It isn’t until the song is almost over that Minho connects the dots.
Whatever is knocking on his window is doing it to the beat of a fucking Madonna song. Not just any Madonna song, but Material Girl. His soul damn near ascended because someone was vibing to Material Girl.
All the fear he previously had was thrown out the window at this new discovery as he enters his room without a care. He looks towards his window but all he sees is a hand sticking up from the bottom of the glass still going to the beat of the song.
Minho walks closer to get a better look and realizes that the knocker is wearing a red glove with… lines all over it? As Minho continues on his journey the hand stops and waves to him. He stares at the hand bewildered and in true horror movie fashion he calls out to it.
“Who are you?”.
The hand doesn’t respond verbally but makes the rock and roll symbol. Minho, still confused as ever, stops his advancements and stares. The hand starts flicking its wrist while still assuming the shape of the symbol. It takes him a little longer to process then he’d like to admit but he gets the hint eventually.
The hand isn’t doing the infamous rock and roll gesture, it’s imitating web slinging.
Minho sprints into action as he climbs up on his desk and slides open the window. He goes to peer out over the edge when Spider-Man suddenly pops up and startles him. Minho jumps back with a yelp as he loses his balance and starts to lean back, starting to fall off the desk. He braces for impact but opens his eyes after a few seconds when it never happens. He looks up and sees Spider-Man crouched in his window with one of his webs attached to his shirt keeping him from falling.
Spider-Man hops on the desk as he slowly pulls Minho back into a kneeling position. They’re now only a few inches apart and eye level when Spider-Man speaks up.
“Sorry sweetheart didn’t mean to scare you. Guess you could say you fell for me though huh?”.
Minho wants to call him out for the stupid overused cliche but he’s unable to do or say anything as his brain processes Spider-Man calling him sweetheart so casually.
Spider-Man tilts his head to the side and Minho realizes he’s just been gawking at the guy in silence for about 30 seconds so he does his best to snap out of it.
“I wouldn’t have fallen if you hadn't, I don't know, came in through the door like a normal person?”
“But where’s the fun in that? Isn’t it far more romantic to scale the side of your building to come check up on you? I mean anyone could knock on your door, I’ve gotta stand out.”.
Minho’s brain starts to go haywire again as words die on his tongue. Romantic? He has to stand out? Spider-Man has been in his apartment for less than 5 minutes and Minho is already about to explode.
“So how are you hm? How’s my favorite civilian?” Spider-Man asks as he leans in slightly.
“I’m uh, I’m good. Kind of hard to sleep last night but it wasn’t too bad,” Minho replies, looking down and fiddling with his fingers.
“Aw you poor thing, wish I could’ve been there to help you sleep better,” the hero tsks as he releases the web that was keeping them connected.
Minho could move back now, create some space between them so he could think properly. But Spider-Man wasn’t making any moves to leave Minho’s personal bubble and Minho’s pretty sure he’d die if he did. Maybe that was a little dramatic, but being so close to the hero is bringing back a sense of peace and calm he’s missed so much.
“But you were. I mean, you were here last night, right?” Minho questions as he looks up at the hero through his lashes.
“Ah, so you got my note.”.
Minho nodded his head and quickly glanced at his bedside table remembering that it was not only framed but also displayed. Embarrassment slowly crept up on Minho and he hoped Spider-Man wouldn’t notice his ears turn red for the millionth time that morning.
Unfortunately for Minho, Spider-Man had been studying Minho’s face like he had an exam on it since he got in his apartment. He immediately noticed the way Minho’s eyes shifted to something in the room and turned his head to follow the olders gaze.
Minho’s sure that if the hero didn’t have his mask on he would be able to see a massive shit eating grin on his face. Before Spider-Man could confirm that the picture proudly presented on Minho’s bedside table was indeed his note, Minho jumped off the desk and made a run for the frame.
Minho made it only a few steps before Spider-Man also jumped off the desk and slung a web to grab Minho’s waist. The hero pulled at the web and spun Minho right into his embrace.
Minho stumbled slightly at the sudden movement but Spider-Man steaded him by grabbing onto his waist while Minho threw his arms over the hero’s shoulders. The two stood in silence in the middle of Minho’s room chest to chest. The close proximity was intoxicating for the both of them.
“Hm seems like you were made to fall into my arms,” Spider-Man quietly muses.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Minho giggles not trying to fight the obvious blush spreading across his face.
“Crazy about you sweetheart” Spider-Man mumbled, bringing them impossibly closer.
“You’re insatiable,” Minho whispered, afraid that speaking too loud would break the moment.
“Oh you don’t even know that half of it,” the hero responds.
Before Minho could question him their little bubble was burst by another symphony of meows, this time much more pained and loud then the last.
Minho sighs and lays his head on Spider-Man’s chest. He can feel the hero laugh softly and he can’t bite back the smile that forms on his face. Minho lifts his head and stares at Spider-Man.
“Wanna help your favorite civilian feed his cats?” Minho questions sliding his hands down to lay on the hero’s chest.
“God I thought you’d never ask,” Spider-Man replies, squeezing Minho’s waist.
A/N
In honor of it being Minho's and I birthday today, here is a long awaited update!
I'm so unbelievably sorry for taking such a long and random break but trust I have no plans to disappear like that again!
Did you guys miss me? It's okay to say you missed me I missed y'all too.
I hope you guys enjoyed this one and let me know what you think!
Thank you all again and I'll see you soon!
⋅˚₊‧ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 3 - Spider-Man's Side Hustle, Stripping
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin
ଳ Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
Jisung’s whole body feels like it’s on fire.
The spandex suit seems to keep the fire trapped to his skin. The feeling of Minho’s lingering touch is what keeps it lit and he doesn’t think it'll ever die out. Not that he wants it too. He wants this feeling to last forever. After years of yearning that was slowly taking him apart piece by piece, he finally feels complete. Even though Minho never made any real contact with Jisung’s bare skin, he can still feel the grip Minho had on him all the way down to his bones. If someone were to do an x-ray on Jisung they would find Minho’s fingerprints carved into his humerus. Where they will probably stay until Jisung’s body is no longer.
Now that Jisung knows what it feels like to be held by Minho, he’s unsure if he can contain himself for much longer. He was able to go years without so much as saying hello to the boy because he didn’t know what it was like to have his undivided attention. He didn’t know what it felt like to be so close. He hadn’t seen Minho look at him like he wanted to devour him whole. Jisung would let Minho devour him. Minho has already owned all of Jisung for years, he might as well finally take what’s rightfully his.
Jisung is in such a rush to get home he forgets about his clothes and backpack that lay abandoned in some dark alley. He knows there’s a chance someone could see him swing into his apartment and figure out his true identity. He knows there's a chance Changbin is home and he might have friends over who would all watch as he busted through a window in his spidey suit. But he can’t find it in him to think about or care about anything other than Minho. His every waking thought had already been corrupted and overtaken by the boy, but now it only seems to have gotten worse.
Jisung has never fully been self assured. He knows he’s talented. He knows those around him love him dearly. But there was always something gnawing its way through his brain and heart. Like some sort of parasite. Something vile and nasty that contaminated every dream and every compliment. The unsavory creature was having a field day when Rosie had died in his arms. Every fear, every nightmare had seemed to come to light when he wasn’t able to save her. The first person who ever truly needed his help, and he let her die.
Jisung thought about giving it all up at that moment. He thought about running away and giving his body to scientists so maybe they could take all the things that made him special and put it into someone who was better than him. Someone more deserving of the powers he possesses. But then he saw Minho.
God knows what was going through that boy's head when he decided to be outside of his apartment when their city was under attack. But Jisung likes to think it was fate. Jisung isn’t sure how the doctor knew Minho was someone important to him, but when he saw the way Jisung reacted to seeing Minho, he went straight for him. Jisung feels guilty for bringing Minho into this. Maybe if Jisung was just a little better at hiding how much Minho meant to him, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in all of this. But Jisung doesn’t think he could ever hide the effect Minho had on him.
The thought that Jisung’s unwavering and all consuming love and desire for Minho almost killed him sits heavy on his mind. Jisung was able to save him this time but what if the doctor comes back for him? What if Jisung is just a little too late like he was with Rosie and Minho dies in his arms? Jisung vigorously shakes his head back and forth in hopes to physically shake those thoughts from his mind. Rosie was battered and bleeding because the doctor had messed up. Rosie died not because Jisung wasn’t capable of saving her but because her husband was greedy. Her death should not be his own.
Jisung would never do anything to intentionally put Minho in harm's way. Which makes Jisung think that maybe he should let Minho slip through his fingers. Maybe he should end it before it’s even begun. Maybe he was the greatest threat to Minho. Jisung thinks he should walk away and leave it all behind, but that’s asking too much. Minho is everything Jisung is not. Minho is the last piece of him. Without him Jisung would always have an open wound, always bleeding and unmendable. Jisung would just have to try twice as hard to make sure Minho was always safe. And if that meant he could never leave Minho’s side again, who was he to complain?
As Jisung landed on the roof of his apartment, he stared up at the night sky. He took a minute to finally breathe. There was a monsoon of emotions that tore through his body and despite the overwhelming feeling he welcomed it all. Would this always be what he felt like after he touched Minho? Would the storm ever blow over? He doesn’t think so. Jisung believes he was destined by the stars to end up in this position. He thinks that in every lifetime the stars bring them together in new and fascinating ways, each different from their last life. The word soulmate doesn’t seem like a strong enough word for them. He’ll have to look up a better one.
Jisung descends the side of his apartment building carefully to avoid any windows. The last thing he needs is for one of his neighbors to see Spider-Man crawl down their building and watch as he goes into his apartment. Once he makes it to the 4th floor he crawls over to his window. He peeks his head over the top and looks around his room checking if the coast is clear. Once he’s certain no one is in his room he slides open his window and swings in. He quickly changes out of his spidey suit and throws it under his bed. The adrenaline seems to kick back in and he needs to tell Chan about what happened or else he might just explode.
He rushes into Chan’s room not bothering to knock where he finds Chan with his headphones on softly nodding along to a beat at his desk.
“CHAN!” Jisung yells as he runs into the room.
“Oh my god Ji!” Chan jumps back and tears the headphone from his ears, “Jesus you scared the shit out of me when did you get here?”.
“Sorry! I just got home and I climbed through the window but that's not important! You’ll never believe what happened!” Jisung exclaims as he plops himself down on Chan’s bed.
“Ji you know you’re not supposed to go through the window when it's this early in the evening. We’re on the fourth floor and people could have seen you,” Chan softly lectured as he turned his chair to face Jisung.
“I know I know but I needed to get home as quickly as possible! There was a real super villain attack!” Jisung explains while bouncing up and down.
“What? Oh my god how could I have missed something like that? I must have been so caught up in my work that I didn’t hear anything. I-” Chan starts to rant but is cut off by Jisung.
“Chan it's okay it was on the other side of town there was very little chance of you hearing it anyways! But it was insane! There was this crazy doctor who had tentacles and we fought and he threw cars and and-”
“CARS!? Oh my god Ji are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” Chan asks while standing up from his seat, “Here let’s get you to the bathroom and I can get you all patched up,” Chan grabs Jisung and pulls him towards the bathroom.
“I’m fine Chan really! But you’ll never guess who I saved!” Jisung squalls in delight as he sits on the bathroom counter and takes off his shirt.
Once Chan sees his friend in proper lighting he lets out a small gasp. In Jisung’s previous scuffles the worst he had ever gotten was maybe a bruised lip and some swelling from getting hit, but this was something else entirely. Jisung’s torso was covered in bruises and scrapes. If Chan asks where he got them from Jisung would tell him the doctor had landed a few hits, but in reality Jisung had accidentally run into a couple of things while web slinging.
“Oh my god Ji, they really did a number on you huh?”
“Yeah yeah blah blah doesn’t matter! Chan I finally-”
“But Ji it DOES matter! This is the first time I’ve seen you so hurt! I know it’s your first big fight but-”
“Chan.”
“-but you should be taking your injuries seriously! Once the adrenaline wears off these bruises are going to hurt like a bitch and-”
“Chan.”
“-it’s important that you’re thinking about yourself while you’re out there saving the city! I know what you do is important but you’re still a human! You still have friends and family who will miss you greatly if god forbid something ever happened to you! These-”
“Chan!”
“-bruises and scrapes may not seem like a big deal now but what happens when these minor injuries become major? All of a sudden you’re going from bumps and bruises to broken ribs and a punctured lung-”
“CHAN!”
“-and a broken femur or a broken collarbone, ankle, wrist, hip, leg-”
“I FINALLY TALKED TO MINHO!”
“-foot… What?”
Jisung grabs Chan’s shoulders and shakes him slightly.
“I not only talked to Minho but I saved him! I held him in my arms Chan! And he held me right back! And he flirted with me! CHAN HE FLIRTED WITH ME!”
Chan looks down at the boy dumbfounded.
“Okay okay, start from the beginning.”
Jisung explains in great theatrics how the entire thing went down while Chan patched up the scrapes on the boy's body. Jisung made sure to spare no details while using his hands to give the story a little more umph. Despite how difficult it became at times for Chan to patch up Jisung while he put on his little show, Chan let him go full out. This was a big milestone for his friend and Chan would rather fight the villain himself then kill the spark that’s in Jisung’s eyes.
Once Jisung’s dramatic retelling of his night is over and once Chan is satisfied with patching him up, they head out of the bathroom to find something to eat.
“So yeah basically Minho and I are officially in love,” Jisung sighs dreamily as he skips into the kitchen.
Chan chuckles and rolls his eyes at the younger's antics.
“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t like, die or something when talking to him,” Chan teases.
Jisung scoffs dramatically and turns to him, “Please Chan I am the blueprint of suave and swag! I had no doubt I would successfully make him swoon the second we met,”.
Chan stares blankly at Jisung for a few seconds before speaking.
“Then why did it take you 3 years?”
The room is filled with more silence.
“Next question!” Jisung exclaims and turns to look for food in the fridge.
Unfortunately due to him and his roommates' weird sleep schedules they don’t usually have home cooked meals. All that sits in the fridge is a few bottles of soju, milk, and various meats that if eaten will get him killed by Changbin. Jisung sighs and closes the fridge door.
“What are we wild animals? Why do we not have normal people food?” Jisung whines to Chan.
“Alright, we can order takeout. It’ll be on me as a thank you for saving the city,” Chan says, chuckling and ruffling the youngers hair.
“Yippie!” Jisung exclaims as he practically jumps for joy while Chan takes his phone out.
Chan and Jisung relax on the couch while they impatiently wait for their food to arrive. They both sat there and scrolled on their phones for a while in a comfortable silence. While Jisung is scrolling through Twitter he start’s seeing reports and news articles of the attack.
The city seems to be very divided on the subject of Spider-Man. People either really love him or really hate him. City officials and the police force seem to dislike him greatly. That didn’t come as a big surprise to Jisung. Spider-Man was basically doing the police force’s job (and looking way cooler while doing it) and so there always seemed to be some sort of tension between them and Jisung when they would come face to face. It didn’t seem like the police were mad that Spider-Man was doing their job for them but more that he was getting a lot more credit and a lot more love. They were envious of Spider-Man and unfortunately some of the officers were more than happy to try and paint Spider-Man in a bad light or really do anything they could to tarnish his image. Jisung never let them or their snide remarks get to him though. He knows he’s doing what he’s doing to help and protect the citizens, which wasn’t something all of them could say. The city officials disliked him partly because he had a tendency to accidentally damage property when fighting and partly because they were so far up the police force’s ass they’d go along with anything they said.
The citizens tended to be the ones who liked him. Jisung tried his best to do his part and help those in need no matter how minuscule the task seemed. He was actually quite popular with the local geezers. He has helped many old people cross the street and even occasionally helps bring in their groceries. They always pinch his cheeks and pat his head and he’ll deny it if you ask but he secretly adores the affection. His biggest supporters however are students. Within the first few weeks of gaining his powers Jisung was obsessed with testing out all his new abilities. So obsessed in fact he had completely forgotten about finals and it wasn’t until he walked into his first lecture of the day that he realized he hadn’t studied a single thing. Jisung thought about pretending to pass out in the middle of class in order to get out of it but he thought about how he’d look dramatically falling to the floor and he gave himself the ick so he decided against it. He tried his best to come up with a better idea but eventually accepted defeat and decided to leave before the class started. He thought about taking the final despite not studying at all but he figured either way he was going to fail and thought it better to try his luck and tell his professor he was sick so maybe he could retake it later. He didn’t have high hopes for that happening as he’s pretty sure his professor saw him enter the class but it was better than sitting at his desk for 2 hours getting humbled by biochemistry.
As Jisung was walking down the halls he spotted the fire alarm and what he would describe as an Einstein level thought struck him. That day he ended up using his webs to secretly pull the fire alarm 15 times. He would hide somewhere where the barely functioning cameras couldn’t see him and use his webs to pull the handle. After the first 6 times professors stopped making their student’s evacuate but the noise was so loud no one could focus on taking their exams. They had staff monitor the halls looking everywhere for whoever was pulling them but Jisung stayed hidden inside of closets, empty classrooms, and even the ceiling. The staff couldn’t just turn off the alarms for the day as it was a safety hazard so they decided to just call it quits.
While the staff couldn’t figure out who was behind the excessive fire drills, a few students had found the leftover webs and connected it back to Spider-Man. There were a good number of peers who weren’t happy and found the whole thing annoying but their opinions quickly changed when the school decided to shut down the next day so they could revamp the fire safety system in hopes that it would make it harder for something like this to happen again. Thus giving the students an extra day to study. Jisung felt bad for the professors who had to change the exam questions since they couldn’t give out the same papers that the students already saw, but Spider-Man quickly became a fan favorite amongst the college students. So much so that word spread quickly to other schools and Spider-Man became a legend to those who didn’t even attend his college.
Jisung knows now how stupid he was and while he probably wouldn’t do it now, it always makes him happy to hear his peers still bring it up every now and then. Someone even made a mural for him as their final art project, he has a photo of it hanging up on his wall.
Jisung tries his best not to let the negative comments get under his skin or the positive comments get to his head. He tries not to read too many articles about his super hero persona but unfortunately Jisung is nosy and usually ends up taking a peek. He skims through the articles and is delighted that most seem to be praising him for the work he did. There are some that think he didn’t do nearly enough or think he’s somehow behind today's attack but overall people seem to be happy with him. As Jisung goes through the different headlines there are a few that start to catch his eye. The headlines go from talking about the doctor to talking about the civilian Spider-Man saved. Jisung just about jumps out of his seat when he sees a photo someone captured of him swinging through the city with Minho clung tightly around him.
Chan notices the shift in Jisung and leans over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Chan’s eye’s nearly pop out of his head at the sight of the photo. He gasps dramatically as he snatches the phone out of Jisung’s hand.
“Oh my god Ji! Look at you two! Oh you two look so cute!” Chan pouts as he looks at the photo.
Jisung, who is currently trying to hide the fact that he’s red as a tomato, tries to get his phone back from Chan.
“Channnn give it back,” Jisung whines reaching out for his phone.
“Oh but you two look so cute together!” Chan giggled while he held the phone higher out of Jisung’s reach, “We should get this framed!”.
Jisung groaned as he shoved his head in his hands, curling up in a little ball in the corner of the couch.
Chan giggled at Jisung’s reaction and started gently poking the boy’s side so as to not hurt any of his bumps or bruises.
“Aww c’mon don’t be embarrassed! This will be a perfect photo to show at your guys’ wedding!” Chan teased while he tickled Jisung’s side.
Jisung uncurled from his ball involuntarily laughing as he smacked Chan’s shoulder, willing him to stop as it tickled.
As the boy’s continued play fighting on the couch, Changbin finally returned home from his evening gym session. The two boy’s greet their friend but don’t stop fighting, determined to be victorious.
Changbin rolls his eye’s fondly at them while he set’s down the takeout he found sitting outside their door that had arrived while they were busy fighting. When Chan and Jisung hear the sound of the takeout bag crinkling they shoot up from their spots to look toward the origin of the sound. Once they realize it’s their food they both rush toward it like starving wolves.
“Psh, like dogs when they hear a bag of food being opened,” Changbin remarked as he walked toward his room to put his gym bag away.
“Thank you Binnie!” The two sang as they grabbed their respective orders.
Chan and Jisung walk back over to the couch and plop back down on it but now with food. They find some random anime to throw on while they dig in. Changbin eventually joins them and despite not liking anime very much he watches anyways. He’s just happy to be there.
The 3 boys rarely get to hangout like this with how conflicting and weird their schedules are so when they are able to get nights like these it really doesn’t matter to them what they do. As long as they’re together.
Once the episode finishes Changbin speaks up.
“Did you guys see the crazy villain attack that happened on the other side of town!?”.
Jisung freezes at the question so Chan swoops in.
“Yeah we were just talking about it. I can’t believe we finally had a real villain attack.”.
“The guy practically destroyed that whole side of the city. It’s so bad they aren’t even letting people drive over there. Could you imagine?”
“Jeez, I heard the guy did some damage. I had no idea it was that bad though.”.
“Yeah but seeing that all over the news must’ve been hard huh Ji?”.
Now both Jisung and Chan freeze at Changbin’s question. They two quickly glance at each other confused before looking at Changbin.
“Wha-, what must’ve been hard?” Jisung questions timidly.
“Seeing Minho in another man’s arms!” Changbin exclaimed with a smirk.
Both Chan and Jisung let out a small sigh of relief before Jisung rolled his eyes at him.
“God Bin, you are so annoying,” Jisung scoffed as he hit Changbin's arm.
“What!? I’m just saying if that was Hyunjin I wouldn’t have let that slide!”.
“By not letting it slide do you mean being inconsolable and locked in your room for weeks?” Chan jokes as he collects his and Jisung’s empty takeout containers.
“Oh please like you would be any better!” Changbin defends.
Chan flips him off as he walks into the kitchen to throw away the containers.
“I’m surprised you’re not wriggling on the ground in agony acting like you got shot in the heart over this,” Changbin continued teasing his friend.
“Oh please Spider-Man was just doing his job! It’s not like they had a bonding moment!”.
“I don’t know man, apparently Minho called Felix and wouldn’t stop talking about Spider-Man and his incredible waist.”.
“Wait really!?” Jisung perks up and looks at Changbin surprised.
“Yeah, right after it happened he wouldn’t stop talking about him. Seems like you have some tough competition.”.
Jisung rolls his eyes at his friend again before turning back towards the T.V. He bites his cheek to stop the big smile that threatened to take over his face.
Jisung was trying very hard to act normal about this new information. It was one thing to assume that he and Minho had a moment but to hear that Minho was talking about him to their friends? Jisung had to grip the arm of the couch to stop himself from jumping up and down with joy. Jisung started to think about how Minho thought his waist was incredible but he quickly stopped as he was certain he would literally com(bust) on the spot.
The more Jisung thought about Minho the more he started to miss him. Jisung was prone to yearn for the boy religiously at any given time but now it’s driving him insane. Even though it’s only been a few hours since they last saw each other Jisung is pretty sure he’s getting some serious withdrawals. Not only does he miss seeing Minho, he also wants to make sure that he’s safe. Jisung is almost certain the doctor will come back and try to hurt Minho as revenge. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. The guilt tries to creep its way back into Jisung’s mind but it’s quickly forgotten when Jisung thinks about how he now actually has a reason to watch (stalk) Minho everyday.
Jisung decides he will watch over Minho’s apartment tonight to ensure his safety. He already planned on skipping school tomorrow so staying up all night won’t affect him too much. If Chan asks why he’s skipping he’ll tell him he’s recovering but Jisung plans on spending most of the day training. He got incredibly lucky during his fight and he’s sure the doctor will only become a bigger pain in his ass. Plus he has calculus tomorrow and while he’s actually quite good with math he’d rather take one of the doctors tentacles up his ass then sit through that lecture.
Chan returns back to the living room and collapses back on the couch with a sigh.
“What ails you my friend?” Changbin asks, looking at him.
“It’s nufin’,” Chan replies while running his hands through his hair.
“C’mon it’s family bonding time you can tell us,” Jisung urges while he pats Chan’s thigh.
“Felix asked me if he could use one of my songs as his music for his solo for the showcase,” Chan tells them.
“AWEEEEE!” Jisung and Changbin coo as Chan hides his face in his hands.
“So what song are you gonna pull from the archives!?’ Jisung questions bouncing up and down.
“Well I kinda sorta had this idea… but I don’t know if it’s too uhm…cringe?” Chan says hesitantly.
Changbin and Jisung stare at Chan expectantly. Chan opens and closes his mouth a few times trying to get the words to escape. He sighs again before playing with his hands.
“I was thinking about giving him the song I wrote about him,” Chan whispers.
The two boys practically jump Chan as they squeal with joy at his admission. Jisung shakes Chan’s arm while Changbin playfully hits his other one.
“CHAN YOU FUCKING SOFTIE!” Jisung screeched.
“Ooooo Channies in loveeee!” Changbin teases in a high pitched tone while he continues to slap his arm.
“Oh please like you guys haven’t produced MULTIPLE songs about your little boy toys?” Chan accuses raising his eyebrows at the two.
Changbin and Jisung stop their antics and slowly look at each other.
“Well you see-” Changbin starts before he abruptly cuts himself off and runs out of the room.
“Oh would you look at that I think someone’s in danger gotta go save em’!” Jisung says before also running out of the room.
“If I go down I’m taking you all with me!” Chan yells at the two from the living room.
Jisung laughs lightly as he walks down the hall towards his room. He stops at the door before his and peeks into Changbins room.
“Night Bin!” Jisung says, poking his head to look at Changbin who’s standing in the middle of his room looking at something on his phone.
“Going to sleep already?” Changbin questions looking up from his device.
“Yeah, not really feeling well,” Jisung lies.
“Heh, so seeing Minho in another man’s arms is finally getting to you?”
“Goodnight Bin,” Jisung says while rolling his eyes and closing his friend's door.
Jisung continues his trek towards his room and once inside he closes and locks his door. He grabs his spidey suit from where he half assedly tossed it under his bed earlier and puts it on. Before he puts on his mask he puts one of his wireless earbuds in. After making sure the earbud wouldn’t fall out he pulls the mask over his face. He looks around for his school bag to bring with him but he realizes it’s still in some dingy alleyway. Jisung huffs out a sigh and grabs an older bag he hasn’t used since highschool and puts some snacks and a few energy drinks inside. He shoots Chan a text letting him know he’s gonna be out doing his usual nightly watch and Chan tells him to be careful.
Jisung opens his window and ascends to the top of the apartment building. Once he makes it to the top he grabs his phone and puts on a playlist he likes to listen to when he’s web slinging across town. He puts his phone in his backpack and makes sure it’s zipped completely. He walks on the ledge of the roof and stares into the distance. From where he is he can see a vast majority of the cityscape which is usually littered with lights and the humming of cars. His side of town is still bustling with people and vehicles despite the later hour. He looks towards Minho’s side but it’s mostly black. A good amount of the streetlights had been damaged during the attack and he assumes a lot of people found somewhere else to stay for the night so many homes/apartments windows weren’t lit.
Once Jisung makes it to the edge of his apartment he takes a deep breath before stepping off the side. He lets himself freefall for a few seconds before shooting his webs and attaching them to the nearest building. He slingshots himself to the next building and lets his mind go on autopilot. He knows this path by heart and can just turn his brain off and let himself enjoy the ride. It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago Jisung was terrified of heights. Almost as scared as Minho. But he had to get over that fear quickly as it was dangerous to web sling close to the ground. He learned that the hard way when his body slammed into a food truck. Jisung swore he hit the thing so hard you could see the logo imprinted on his body, Chan said he was being dramatic.
Jisung greatly enjoys his little late night watches. It had the same vibe as late night car rides, only much cooler. And a lot colder. He feels a chill run up his spine as he swings through the city. He makes a mental note to grab his bag before reaching Minho’s apartment since he’s pretty sure he has a jacket in there. And to also get his homework he supposes.
The closer Jisung gets to his destination the more the memories of the attack start creeping back into his mind. That stupid little parasite starts clawing its way through Jisung’s thoughts and so to drown it out Jisung stops on top of some random office building and puts his other earbud in. He turns the music way up and continues his journey.
Music has always been an outlet for Jisung. His friends joke that he’s unable to speak his emotions normally and is doomed to only express his feelings in beautiful metaphors. He’s unable to properly express how much someone means to him but can write a ballad with the most intricate symbolism known to man like it’s nothing.
Despite how Jisung has always excelled in his studies he knew his passion was in music. Thankfully his aunt had supported him even though she was worried about his career. In order to make both him and his guardian happy he majors in music business and minors in psychics. Some people may call him insane for it but it’s really the best of both worlds. He’s able to primarily do something he loves while still building a career just in case. It was hard to juggle the countless hours in the studio and the piles of homework and now with crime fighting it’s safe to say Jisung may be biting off a little more than he can chew. It hasn’t burnt him out yet but he’s sure it will one day. Until then though he’s going to continue on this path and hope for the best. He’s a junior in college so he just has to make it through this year and his senior year and he’s home free. He just has to survive his classes, and against villainous attacks. Y’know, lightwork.
Jisung swings into an alleyway and grabs his backpack that he left a few hours earlier. He pauses for a second as he realizes he already has one on his back. He ends up strapping it to his front and continues on. He makes it to Minho’s apartment in no time and jumps to the apartment complex directly across from his.
Jisung sets him and his stuff down on the ledge and makes himself comfortable. With his feet swinging over the edge, his favorite song blasting through his headphones, and his favorite person just a few feet away, Jisung feels at ease for the first time today. From where Jisung is sitting he can see into Minho’s room. Usually by this time Minho has his curtains drawn but tonight he left them open. A part of Jisung hopes he did that on purpose so that Jisung could see for himself that he was safe. Jisung can only see the outline of Minho’s body laying in his bed and his 3 cats scattered around him all peacefully sleeping. Jisung knows it's definitely a little creepy but he could watch Minho sleep all night. There was something so serene about it and he found himself wishing he could just crawl into bed next to him. Jisung is torn between the idea of Minho getting a restraining order on him if he ever found out what Jisung was doing and the idea of Minho finding the special interest (stalking) endearing. Jisung’s almost certain Minho could match his freak, he might just wait a while to bring up the whole watching him while he sleeps thing.
Jisung knows it’s cheesy but he’s just so certain that he and Minho are fated by the stars to be together. He knew it from the minute he saw Minho on stage. It was truly like an otherworldly experience. The way his body moves and flows to the beat is truly something to behold. Jisung hopes one day Minho will want to dance to a song he’s created. Chan was correct in saying that he has created a few songs with Minho in mind but it was hard to write a love song and not think about the boy. Even when he tried to purposefully not connect it to him in some way, he always failed. Music is something Jisung puts his whole heart into and it’s hard to not put Minho into music when he makes up half of his heart.
Jisung spends the rest of the night watching over Minho. Every now and then he would get up and patrol the surrounding neighborhood just to make sure everything was okay. By the time the sun started to rise he had finished all his snacks and downed around 3 energy drinks. He was ready to crash out. He watched the sunrise before collecting his things. With one last longing look at Minho an idea came to mind. He grabbed a pen and a sticky note from his bag and doodled a little sketch of his Spider-Man mask and a heart on it. Before making his way back home he stuck the sticky note to Minho’s window. Jisung wasn’t sure how Minho was feeling about the whole attack but he figured it probably wasn’t easy on the boy. So he left the sticky note in hopes of easing his mind and letting him know he was doing just as he said. Always keeping him safe.
Once Jisung makes it home he haphazardly crawls in through his window and drops to the floor upon entry. He lets out a tried groan as he wiggles his way out of his spidey suit, still on the ground. He throws the suit somewhere near his bed and pulls on some pj shorts before crawling towards his bed. Before he can make it he hears someone knocking on his door.
“Hey Ji you up?” Changbin calls from the other side of the door.
Jisung lets out a tired groan in response and hears Changbin chuckle.
“Can I come in?” Changbin questions.
Jisung uses his webs to unlock the door before he throws himself on his bed. He pulls the covers over his face and gets comfortable.
“Come in,” Jisung mumbles from under the blankets.
“Hey Ji, can we talk about something?” Changbin asks seriously.
Jisung peeks his head over the covers and nods confusingly at his friend. Changbin walks over to Jisung’s bed and sits on the edge.
“So, where were you last night?” Changbin questions the younger.
Jisung looks at him surprised and tilts his head.
“I was here, sleeping,” Jisung lied.
“Hmmm you must’ve been in a really deep sleep to not hear the fire alarm go off then huh?”.
“Oh uh, well, uh, I actually did hear it! I just figured it was a drill! I was so comfy I just didn’t want to leave my bed!”.
“Ji.”.
“Yeah?”.
“The fire alarm didn’t go off last night.”.
‘Oh…”
There was silence between the two before Changbin spoke again.
“Listen kid, I know you’re Spider-Man.”
“PFT WHA- WHAT! That’s, that’s preposterous! I’m not Spider-Man!”
“Oh yeah? Then where do you go when you sneak out every night?”
“Oh well I have a very good explanation for that!”
“Go ahead then, I’m listening.”.
“I, uh, I’m, uh, oh I’m a stripper!”.
“... a stripper?”.
“Yup… that’s what came out of my mouth isn’t it?”.
Changbin sighs and pats the younger's head.
“Alright well the next time you leave for work feel free to use the front door. I’m sure climbing the fire escape in 10 inch stilettos can’t be easy.”.
Jisung nods his head and watches Changbin head for the door. Before he fully leaves the room he turns toward Jisung.
“I’m doing laundry today so if you want any of your lingerie or that Spider-Man suit next to your bed washed just throw it in my hamper,” Changbin says smirking before closing Jisung’s door.
Jisung slowly peers over the side of his bed and lo and behold there sits his spidey suit out in the open. He smacks his head with his hand and lets out a small sigh. He’s not too worried about Changbin knowing, it was only a matter of time before he slipped up in front of him anyways. He just wishes he knew that Changbin knew before he said he was a stripper. He has a feeling that’s not going to go away for a long time.
Jisung curled up under the covers not bothering to really get ready for bed. He prided himself on being a clean boy but if he stood up right now he would immediately fall back to the floor. It was safer for him to stay in his bed, warm and cozy. Jisung almost immediately fell asleep and was awoken from his dreamless sleep about an hour later.
Chan and Changbin walked into his room and gently shook him awake.
“Hey sleepy head we’re gonna head to school, you comin?” Chan asks with a fond smile on his face.
Jisung lets out an incoherent string of babbles before tucking himself in tighter.
“Alright well I’m gonna take that as a no. We’ll be back in a few hours, try not to do anything stupid while we’re gone,” Chan says, petting Jisung’s hair.
Jisung slightly nods his head up and down.
“Awe we’ll miss sweetie, sleep well,” Changbin says like a parent saying goodbye to their kid before leaving for work.
Chan makes kissing noises at Jisung before ruffling his hair. The two start making their way out of his room before Changbin pauses.
“Text me which mesh bodysuits I have to hand wash, wouldn’t want our little dancers wardrobe getting messed up in the wash,” Changbin teases before leaving the room.
Jisung can hear Chan cackling as they make their way down the hall and towards their front door.
Jisung pulls the covers over his face again and lets out a sigh.
Yeah he was never living that down.
A/N
Ahhh Chapter 3 is finally here! I know things are kind of going slow right now but trust it'll all be worth it!
I tried my best to keep Jisung and Minho as sane as possible about each other for a little bit but unfortunately I've never been casual about anything a day in my life so we're just gonna have to deal with the fact that they're alr obsessed.
I just know Stray Kids hit song "I Like It" hates to see me coming.
Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know what you thought!
I'll see you soon!
⋅˚₊‧ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 2 - The Amazing Spider-Man and His Even Better Waist
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin
ଳ previous chapter - next chapter
The sun had started to set as Minho made his way back home from the dance studio. With the upcoming showcase Minho had a tendency to work himself to the bone. As one of the team's captains he felt he needed to constantly be at his best so he can help those around him. Despite the countless hours of staring himself down in the giant mirror going over every move over and over and over again until he physically couldn’t take it anymore, he adored what he did. Dancing wasn’t just a hobby to him, it was his everything. You could see it in the way he walked, the way he gestured, even the way he breathed. Everything he did had a certain flow to it, some (Jisung) would say a certain elegance. Dancing was bound to become a part of his very being for the start. He’s been doing it since he was a child and hasn’t stopped since.
One day he hopes to open his own studio, probably in some small town somewhere safe and quiet where he could teach dance lessons. He would have classes for adults and kids and really anyone who wanted to learn. God did he love teaching. There's a certain satisfaction he gets from helping someone do something as simple as nailing a move or as grand as teaching them difficult choreography from start to finish. Taking people under his wing and morphing them into the best dancers they can possibly be gives him a high like no other. Who needs drugs when you can take a shy uncertain dancer and make them extraordinary?
That’s one of the reasons he’s come to love Jeongin so much so fast. Jeongin is a sophomore and just recently joined his team. From the second Minho saw him at tryouts he knew Jeongin was going to turn into something phenomenal. They’ve only been working together for a few weeks and Felix is already gushing over the fact that Jeongin is starting to dance like Minho. Him and Hyunjin have started calling Jeongin Minho’s kid and while Minho pretends to be annoyed with it, everyone can see the proud smile he tries oh so hard to hide.
Jeongin reminds Minho a lot of himself. Especially with how the kid is when it comes to practicing. Minho had to basically beg the kid to go home after practice was over. Jeongin had whined and complained but Minho told him he needed to get rest and not overwork himself. Hyunjin had pointed out how Minho was going to stay later and do the exact same thing he was telling Jeongin not to do but Minho just rolled his eyes and told them to shoo. In order to console a very disappointed Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix took him out for dinner while Minho stayed behind. They promised Minho they’d bring him something back if he was home before the sun had set. Minho had a bad habit of staying until the late hours of the night and despite their efforts, Hyunjin and Felix couldn’t drag him out of that studio no matter how hard they tried. And boy did they try. Despite Hyunjins slight height advantage and Felix’s puppy dog eyes, no one was a match for Minho. Mostly because the little shit was not afraid to bite. So they turned to bribery, and that worked thousands of times better.
Minho put on his headphones and started his journey home. He lived in an apartment in the city with Felix and Hyunjin. During Minho’s freshman and sophomore year he had downright dastardly roommates. During his freshman year he roomed with two other guys who in spite of being turned down by every fraternity their school offered, they still acted like stereotypical douchebag frat guys. In all their months of sharing a space Minho doesn’t think he saw them sober once. And while he can understand the urge to inhale anything that looks like he won’t remember the next few days, there had to be a line somewhere. Unfortunately for him the only line they knew of was white and powdery, and probably laced with fentanyl.
He spent many nights with his noise canceling headphones on full blast trying to drown out whatever party they were throwing on some random weeknight. His sophomore year roommate was less annoying and more… creepy. Minho knows he’s not exactly the gold standard for your typical sane person but damn was the dude strange. Minho truly has no place to judge people for being a little odd but the dude had figurines in a jar. Minho had walked into his room to ask the guy something and when he saw the jars he innocently asked about them. The guy had referred to them as “snow globes” but it was safe to say that it was definitely not water in those mason jars. Minho still can’t see Rainbow Dash without shuddering a little.
During his junior year Minho lived alone in a small studio apartment. While it was nice to get 8 hours of sleep and not be suspicious of every cup in the kitchen, he had started to feel a little lonely. Minho greatly valued his alone time and most of the time preferred to be unbothered, but it was really easy to isolate himself. And since there was no one around to judge him, he could spend his days binging anime and rotting in his living room that only contained a centuries old pullout couch and a t.v that stood on an empty ikea box. He had begged his parents to let him bring his cats, Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, to live with him so he would have some motivation to do more than just rot. His parents finally caved and while they helped greatly Minho figured it would be better if he roomed with someone for his final year at college. Mostly so they could hold him accountable and actually make him go to class. Senioritis was a bitch in high school and it’s even worse in college.
He had met Hyunjin and Felix when the 2 were freshmen and they clicked very quickly. While they weren’t there to help him stand up to the frat boys, they were there to help him cope with the freaky brony. And towards the end of Minho’s junior year they ended up basically living at Minho’s place, once he got the cats of course. So it came as no surprise when they ended up all living together for Minho’s senior year and he wouldn't have it any other way. Even with Hyunjin being allergic to cats they’ve found ways to make it work and Minho can proudly say he has not seen any jars with any questionable substances nor any mysterious white lines, outside of Felix baking of course. So he would consider it a big win.
As Minho got further and further into the city something felt extremely off. While it was suspicious that the city looked like it had been torn apart and there were a bunch of abandoned and even flipped over cars, that wasn’t the biggest oddity. Minho felt incredibly alone. Usually on his walk back home there seemed to be a sort of… presence that would follow him. At first it had him looking over his shoulder constantly thinking he was about to get jumped but as the months have passed it’s become quite comforting. He hasn’t told anyone about it though, he’s scared they’d send him to the ward, which would be understandable. Whether he has a guardian angel or a stalker he’s not exactly sure, but right now he misses the feeling of someone keeping an eye on him. Especially as the closer he gets home, the more the city looks like it was torn to shreds.
Just about everyone else on this Earth would turn around and head to safety, but damn does Minho just want to lay down and wait for his friends to get back with food. He’s been in classes all day and just spent hours practicing the same damn 8 count, if he dies then shit, he dies. His obituary will have ‘missed his couch and his cats’ as the cause of death and he’s okay with that.
Now the smart thing for Minho to do would be to take off his headphones or at least pause his music so he can listen for any danger. But he’s currently bumping Ariana Grande’s ‘One Last Time’ and if he’s going out, he’s going out listening to a banger.
Minho does however start to quicken his pace the more he ponders about all the ways he could possibly, for the lack of a better term, get gotten. He can’t even begin to think of what could have possibly caused this much destruction and he really doesn’t want to meet it. Minho did years of taekwondo but he’s not exactly sure if he could crescent kick his way to safety. Mainly because he’s seen about 2 cars flipped upside down and one through the window of a shop. He believes if whatever did this can flip a 2 thousand pound car, they could probably flip him like a pancake.
Minho’s brisk walk turns into a little jog as his apartment comes into view. The feeling of impending doom starts to really set as he gets to the entrance. He skips a few steps up the stairs and heads for the door. Before Minho can start punching in code he starts to feel the ground beneath him shake. Minho looks down at his feet and tilts his head confusingly, as if his shoes are going to give him all the answers. The shaking becomes more aggressive and the keys on his lanyard start to rattle slightly.
Minho lets out a short laugh and mutters, “Um he’s right behind me isn’t he?”
He laughs quietly to himself again, trying to calm himself down as his current anxiety levels could be compared to someone being hunted for sport. He thinks briefly about how Hyunjin would’ve laughed at the corny line and finds himself missing his boys. He hopes they return soon, and he hopes they bring back the pudding he likes.
The thought of his friends helps to calm him down some so he turns around to check if the coast is clear. When he turns he meets the fiery gaze of what seems to be a deranged man with tentacles running at him full speed.
Minho is quite known for his fast reflexes but all systems in his brain seem to shut down as the cyborg octopus grabs a neon blue kia soul and seemingly prepares to launch it at him. Minho’s fight or flight kicks in and seeing as he is currently planted in his spot, he guesses his brain chose to fight. Minho wracks his brain for any taekwondo moves he could use against the man that looks like he came straight out of a really bad hentai, but nothing seems to stick out.
Before Minho can start planning his funeral he catches the glimpse of something flying towards him on his right side. He whips his head to the side and sees Spider-Man coming to the rescue. In the blink of an eye Minho is brought into Spider-Man’s arms. His legs instinctively wrap around the hero's waist as his arms snake around his neck. Due to the impact of the strange hug thing they have going on, his wireless headphones get knocked off his head. He curses to himself as he watches them fall 500 feet in the air and only then does it register to Minho how high up he currently is and how they’re only getting higher. His grip tightens around the hero as his thoughts start running a million miles a second.
‘Oh my god we’re so high up, holy shit we’re so high up! Oh no I think I’m getting motion sick. Oh dear god I can’t throw up on Spider-Man. If this fucking spider drops us I’m gonna be so pissed. Oh please don’t drop us! I think if I hold onto him any tighter he’s gonna start suffocating. Can’t risk him passing out so I won’t hold his neck tighter I guess. Maybe I could wrap my legs tighter…damn Spider-Man’s waist is small. Who the fuck said that? My final thoughts can not be about some dude's waist, no matter how whorish it is. Oh my god if I die, who will take care of my babies!? Those webs better be strong as fuck I have children to raise!’
As if the hero can hear his thoughts, he tries to comfort Minho as best as he can. Due to Spider-Man needing both of his hands to web-sling him and Minho to safety, he slightly nuzzles his head against Minho’s in an attempt to comfort him.
“I know it’s high up but don’t worry we’re almost there.” Spider-Man whispers reassuringly.
Maybe it was the proximity or reassuring words or the deep tone Spider-Man used, but Minho was very grateful that the hero couldn’t see his face at that moment. The reddening of his ears might give the hero a slight implication of how he feels, but how red his face is currently would be a dead giveaway. Minho has half a mind to wonder how Spider-Man knew of his immense fear of heights but the thought quickly dissipated along with the others that had been plaguing his mind. While the fear was still there, he couldn’t help but feel safe in the hero’s arms. Maybe more than he should. He did just meet the guy only a few minutes ago yet he somehow trusted him immensely. All he knew about Spider-Man was that he was 1 a hero, 2 he sounds to be around his age, and 3 he has a slutty waist.
Minho faintly shakes his head trying to shake the hero’s waist from his brain and opts to lay his head in the crook of the hero’s neck. If he was questioned about it he would just tell them it was so he didn’t have to see how high up they were… no other reason.
The closer the pair got to the sirens the more the off brand hentai mechanical octopus seemed to fall back. Minho wants to ask why the robo cephalopod is currently chasing them down and where he even came from but he decides it’s best not to distract the hero while he is mid-saving his ass.
Due to Minho’s position he has a perfect view of the villain and watches as he gets slower and slower. While he’s happy he won’t have to be in the middle of a showdown between the entire police department, Spider-Man, and some shitty Koro-sensei cosplayer, he is worried about him getting away. The guy obviously had it out for Minho if the Kia Soul he almost got gotten with had anything to say about it. He just really did not want to run into, or well away from this guy again. However if he gets to be wrapped up around the hero maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad.
With the police department finally coming into view, the villain had decided to call it a night and turned around. Minho and Spider-Man continued their way towards the group of law enforcement and medical personnel. A few of the cop cars took off toward the deranged man and followed him back into the heart of the city. Minho was sure the villain would eventually lose them and hide away until his next attack. Before he could even start to stress about the man’s return he felt himself start to slowly descend towards the ground.
Spider-Man had planted himself back on the ground with Minho still wrapped around him. The hero placed his hands underneath Minho’s thighs and Minho took it as a cue to slowly lower himself onto the ground. Spider-Man’s hands trace from his thighs to his waist and let’s them linger there. With Minho’s hands still wrapped around the hero’s neck, he stares into his masked eyes for a few seconds in silence.
“Are you okay?” The hero whispers, trying to not break the moment.
“I am now,” Minho replies, smirking at the man.
Despite the mask covering the hero’s face Minho swears he can see Spider-Man’s face light up in surprise.
“You know, you really should be more careful. You could have really gotten hurt,” Spider-Man tried to lecture after regaining his composure, but his voice was too breathless to hold any real power.
“Well it’s a good thing you were there to save me, huh?” Minho questions, tilting his head slightly and slowly moving his hands from the hero’s neck down to his biceps.
Spider-Man shivers slightly at the sensation and grips Minho’s waist just a little tighter.
“Hmm, but what if I’m not there the next time you get yourself into trouble?” The hero breathed.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t come save me if I ever got into trouble again?” Minho asks with a fake pout.
The hero pauses for a second and says, “I’ll always save you.”.
Minho’s pout quickly turns into a charming smile but before he can continue this game with the hero they hear the rushed footsteps of people fastly approaching. Spider-Man and Minho reluctantly let go of each other as medical personnel speed toward them. The paramedics offer to check out Spider-Man for any damage but the hero politely denies any help. He does however insist Minho should get a check up just in case. Minho agrees and starts walking towards the medics vehicle while Spider-Man turns in the other direction. Minho watches Spider-Man’s waist, or no not waist just Spider-Man walk away and calls out to him.
“Thank you Spider-Man!”
Minho swears he can see a bright smile from underneath the mask as the hero nods his head and web-slings off into the distance.
The medics take a look at Minho but don’t find anything concerning. They let him know he’ll probably just be shaken up for the next few days and may have some trouble sleeping but overall he was perfectly fine. For some reason Minho feels a sense of pride due to how good Spider-Man was at keeping him safe. He pushes the thought away and thanks them for their time.
Once Minho leaves the vehicle he decides it is probably best to update his roommates on what has transpired. He pulls out his phone and dials Felix’s number.
“Hey Min what’s up!?” Felix greets him.
“Felix, you're never going to believe what just happened.”
“Wait hold on, this sounds good, let me put you on speaker so Jinnie and Innie can hear!”
“Hi Minho!” Jeongin and Hyunjin greet him excitedly.
“Hi boys! So the craziest thing just happened, basically I’m on my way home from the studio-“ Minho explains the bulk of the story adding little sound effects to really set the scene.
“Oh my god Minho are you okay!?” Felix questions worry evident in his tone.
“Yeah yeah I’m fine but let me get to the good part!”
“Are you hurt at all? Did they take you to a hospital? Where are you right now” Felix rambles, growing more anxious by the second.
“Lix I promise I’m okay the paramedics gave me a checkup and I’m all good! Now please I need to tell someone about that man’s waist or I’m gonna fucking implode!”
“Are you sure you’re totally fine? We can head back now and come take care of you! Oh my god we shouldn’t have let you stay at the studio-“
“FELIX SHH I WANNA HEAR ABOUT SPIDER-MAN’S WAIST!” Hyunjin being nosy as ever interrupts Felix’s mental breakdown.
Felix promptly stops his rambling and Minho can picture Joengin comforting Felix while Hyunjin gets closer to the phone to not miss a single detail.
“I kid you not I think if I wrapped my hands around his waist my fingertips could almost touch!”
“You lie!” Hyunjin gasps dramatically.
“As if!” Minho replies matching his energy.
“What happened next!?” Jeongin asked, sounding like a kid hearing an exciting bedtime story.
“So giant tentacle man ends up retreating once we get to the like billion police officers and oh my god you guys are not ready for this!”
“Spill it now!” Hyunjin exclaims impatiently.
“So we land right? Well he puts his hands under my thighs and once he sets me down he puts them on my waist! MY WAIST!”
Minho laughs as he hears the 3 boys squeal in delight.
“What then!?” Felix questions sounding much more calm then before.
“So my hands are still around his neck and we are very close together and he asks if I’m okay and I obviously tell him I’m much better now that he saved me and then he tries to be all tough and lecture me about being safe and how I could have gotten hurt so I say it’s a good thing he was there to save me and he says what if he won’t be there the next time I’m in trouble so I’m like oh so you won’t come save me next time and he pauses for a second and then tells me and I quote ‘I’ll always save you’,” Minho takes a deep breath after his rant and immediately starts laughing again at his friends' responses.
“Oh Minho you flirt!” Hyunjin teases after he finishes squealing happily.
“Damn Minho I didn’t know you were such a dog!” Jeongin adds.
“I’ve been telling you guys, Minho’s rizz is unmatched!” Felix giggled.
“Oh god please don’t ever say rizz again” Hyunjin complained playfully.
“Okay but can we talk about the fact that THE Spider-Man wants you so bad?” Jeongin exclaimed.
“I’m sure he was just doing his job-”
“His job is to save people! He does not get paid to flirt!” Hyunjin ever the hopeless romantic argued.
“I actually don’t think he gets paid at all,” Jeongin corrected.
“Either way he was practically off the clock when the villain left! He totally could have just dropped you off and left immediately after! But instead he stayed and held you in his arms! You guys had a bonding moment! Minho, you are living in a romantic comedy!” Hyunjin sighed dreamily.
“I’m not sure I would count almost getting squished by a car romantic or comedic,” Minho retorted.
“It would’ve been a little funny,” Hyunjin mumbled.
Before Minho could threaten Hyunjin, Felix chimed in, “I don’t know Min, I think Jinnie and Innie are right. He sounds at the very least intrestedddd.”
“Yeah yeah whatever you guys say. Well I’m gonna head back to the apartment now, I’ll see you guys soon?” Minho questioned.
“Yeah we’ll drop Innie off at his place then head back! See you soon lover boy!” Hyunjin teased.
“Bye Minho!” Jeongin exclaimed.
“Bye In-ah! And I’ll deal with you when you get home Hyun!” Minho warned.
Minho could hear Jeongin and Felix laugh as Hyunjin gasped in fright at Minho’s threat.
“We’ll be home soon Min, please stay safe,” Felix pleaded.
“Of course, bye guys,” Minho assured as he ended the call.
Due to the villain's departure the police have deemed it safe enough for people to head home now. Most of the streets were closed as a result of the debris from the attack, so a lot of people would be walking home tonight. Even if the streets were open, a lot of them lost a car today, so either way, no one’s driving for. while.
A police officer escorted Minho back to his apartment as it wasn’t very far from where they were. The entire walk Minho’s thoughts were consumed by Spider-Man.
It cannot be normal to feel so strongly about someone he just met. Minho knows it’s the man’s job to make him feel safe but damn he’s never felt so at ease hundreds of feet in the air. His fear of heights has been a constant problem all throughout his life and yet he would gladly stand atop the Burj Khalifa if it meant he could be in Spider-Man’s arms. He also thinks about the conversation he had with his friends. Was Spider-Man really flirting with him? Or was he just trying to distract Minho from the fact that they were in a life threatening situation?
Minho starts to wonder why he even cares. He doesn’t know the hero, why should it matter if Spider-Man was flirting with him or not. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again. Minho feels a slight pang in his heart at that thought. Would this be the only time he ever got to talk to Spider-Man?
Minho’s head feels fuzzy. Nothing seems to make sense. Despite the fact that he just met Spider-Man today, he feels like he’s known the guy for years. There’s just something so… familiar about him but he can’t seem to place it. Minho starts to wonder if the man in the suit is someone he knows from school. But Minho thinks he would be able to recognize a voice like that, unless of course he was altering it to help keep his identity a secret.
Or maybe Minho just experienced the love at first sight trope and is refusing to admit it because it would make him seem insane. How could it even be love at first sight if he didn’t even actually see the guy? Or maybe this was some sort of trauma response. Yeah, yeah that makes more sense. Minho was almost killed by a low budget Ursla and now he’s getting attached to the one that saved him. Kind of like stockholm syndrome except the capture leaves physically but not mentally. Minho then starts to think about how he wishes Spider-Man didn’t physically leave but quickly ushers the thought away.
Once they got just a few feet away from Minho’s apartment he thanked the officer that took him home and they bid each other goodbye. Before the officer left he let Minho know that they would have some cops patrolling this street and that they would keep a close eye on his apartment building just in case the villain ever came back. Minho thanked the man again and headed inside.
Once Minho had made it to the elevator he let out a small sigh of relief. He was so happy to be home and even more excited to see his cats.
Oh no, his cats. They’ve been home alone this entire time and are probably scared out of their minds.
Minho ditches the elevator and heads towards the stairs. He bounds up 6 flights of stairs and even though he feels like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs he pursues forward. He makes it to his floor and flings open the stairway door to sprint down the hallway. He would have to get his babies some sort of toy or treat as a reward for their bravery.
He makes it to his door and shoves the keys inside the locks ungracefully. He fumbles with them for a moment and then practically breaks down the door trying to get in. His eyes scan the living room for his little ones and finds them lounging in their favorite positions on the couch. At Minho’s harsh and loud intrusion Soongie gets up from his spot and greets Minho at the door rubbing against his leg. Doongie stays peacefully sleeping while Dori looks at him like he’s stupid.
Minho lets out a big sigh of relief and leans down to pet Soongie. The cat purrs happily at the affection and Minho stares at him lovingly. Once Soongie decides he’s been pet enough he makes his way back towards the couch and Minho follows. It isn’t until Minho comes just a few inches from the couch that he realizes just how tired he really is. He flops face first onto the couch making sure to avoid any cats. Minho just lays there for an uncertain amount of time before he hears the sounds of his friends returning home. Minho had forgotten to lock the door so Felix is able to barge in and look around frantically, similarly to how Minho had come in.
“MY BABY ARE YOU OKAY?!” Felix shouts dramatically as he ushers over to Minho.
Before Minho can respond Felix falls onto him and nuzzles his face into his back. Minho lets out a small grunt but he’s too tired to do anything about his 4th oversized cat that seems to think he’s a lapcat.
Hyunjin giggles at the two as he puts their leftovers and Minho’s food on the counter and walks over to the couch. Minho knows exactly what’s coming next but doesn’t react fast enough before Hyunjin flops down on top of the two. This time Felix also lets out a grunt at the impact. Minho wiggles trying to get the tower they created to topple off him but neither are budging. Hyunjin smiles happily at the peak while Minho is pretty sure he can hear Felix purring. Minho’s wiggles intensify and he starts groaning about how he can’t breathe so Hyunjin grabs Doongie who was sleeping peacefully on the pillows and sets him on top of them.
“Sorry, can’t, Doongie is comfortable,” Hyunjin states happily.
Despite being awoken from his slumber the cat quickly gets comfortable and purrs peacefully. Minho has used his cats laying or sleeping on him as an excuse to not go out as it would be criminal to move such a sweet little thing. Minho sighs knowing he can’t go back on his word now, especially since he’ll probably want to use them as an excuse sometime in the future so he accepts defeat.
After a few moments of silence Felix asks, “So, gotta thing for Spider-Man now?”
Minho’s head shoots up off the couch as he starts screaming like an alarm clock to get the boys off of him. Due to the piercing sound everyone groans and rolls off of Minho in an attempt to get him to stop. Once Minho can finally breathe again he puts his face back down on the couch and grabs a pillow to blindly throw it at Felix.
He assumes he misses when he hears a loud ‘Ow’ from Hyunjin.
“Sorry I was aiming for the little one,” Minho mumbles, face still pressed down into the couch.
Minho can hear Hyunjin let out a little huff while Felix starts laughing.
Still giggling, Felix scoots closer to Minho and runs his hands through his hair.
“You okay?” Felix asks comfortingly.
Minho just nods his head in response. Physically he’s doing fine, mentally he feels like he just fought for his life in the trenches. Felix hums understandingly at Minho’s lack of response and continues carding his fingers through his hair. It’s Minho’s turn to basically start purring and feels some of the tension that had been building up slowly start to fade.
‘Would fade away much faster if it were Spider-Man,’ a voice in his head taunts.
Minho pushes his face impossibly further into the couch trying to drown out his own thoughts between the cushions.
Hyunjin gets up and grabs Minho’s food from the counter and brings it over to him.
“Come on, you should eat,” Hyunjin tells Minho.
Minho groans at the thought of getting up from his very comfortable position on the couch. Hyunjin sighs and places the food on the coffee table behind him before grabbing Minho under the arms and hoisting him up like a long cat.
Felix laughs at the bewildered look on Minho’s face as Hyunjin practically manhandles him into a sitting position.
Once Hyunjin gets Minho settled there's a beat or two of silence.
“You need to stop hanging out with Changbin,” Minho grumbles.
The other two boys laugh while they hand Minho his food. Minho immediately digs in as the events of today had left him starving.
“Alright well I’m gonna go get ready for bed but I’ll be back out in a little bit. You two gonna be okay?” Hyunjin questions while he stands up.
“Yes I think I can keep things under control while you’re gone for 10 minutes,” Felix grumbles at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin chuckles and says, “I’m more worried about you getting suffocated with a pillow for saying something stupid”.
Felix feigns a look of hurt while Hyunjin walks away. Minho huffs out a small laugh at the two and continues devouring his food. Felix rolls his eyes and leans back on the couch scooting closer to Minho.
The two sit in comfortable silence as Minho eats and Felix rests his head on his shoulders. Despite the fact that Felix is sorta in the way he doesn’t ask him to move. He knows Felix’s love language is physical touch and this is his way of showing Minho how worried he was about him, so Minho lets it slide.
Felix seems to be deep in thought and lets out a little sigh.
“What’s up Lix?” Minho questions the younger.
“Nothin,” Felix responds unconvincingly.
“Bullshit, come on tell me, what’s on your mind?” Minho insisted, moving his body toward Felix so he’d have to look at him.
“I don’t know it’s kinda stupid to say out loud, but I feel like Chan is hiding something from me,” Felix admits, playing with his fingers nervously.
“What do you mean?” Minho asked, surprised.
“It’s just, him and Ji have been spending a lot more time together lately and they keep sneaking around and they text back and forth when they’re in the same room and I don’t know, he just seems so focused on Jisung lately. And sometimes when we’re hanging out late at night he leaves in a hurry saying that Ji needs him for something but what could he possibly need him for so late at night!?” Felix rants growing slightly frustrated.
“Oh my god Lee Felix are you jealous!? Minho accuses excitedly.
“WHAT!?” Felix shrieks.
“Oh my god you’re jealous of Chan giving someone else attention!”
“I AM NOT!”
“You totally are! You know Lixie you won’t burst into flames if Chan isn’t giving you his undivided attention twenty four seven.”
“Yes I will! I mean no obviously I won’t but it’s just that you know-”
“You know I always had my suspicion that you liked him but I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to start accusing him of sneaking around with another man just because he needed to help a friend out.”
“Minho I’m being serious!”
“So am I! You know if you want his attention back on you there is something you could do.”
“What? What is it!?” Felix questions, leaning in to not miss a single word.
“Okay it's a little out there but hear me out; you could tell him how you feel.”
Felix stares at Minho for a second before grabbing a pillow and smacking Minho upside the head. Minho yelps and sets down his food in order to get back at the younger. Felix tries to get up but before he can fully stand up Minho grabs his arm and pulls him back down on the couch. They play flight for a couple of minutes throwing around random accusations to rile each other up.
“Just admit you have a fat crush on Chan!”
“I’ll admit that when you admit you got a thing for Spider-Man!”
Hyunjin walks into the living room in his pj’s and watches the two go at it with an amused smile on his face. Minho is holding back from really roughhousing with Felix as he normally would with Hyunjin because Felix is more sensitive. While Minho is going easy on the boy, Felix is fighting for his life. Minho regularly works out and over the past few months has really started to bulk up. Felix is just now realizing how bulked up Minho has gotten. After a few more minutes Hyunjin decides that's enough and goes to break the two apart.
“Alright you girls are both very pretty but let’s break it up.”
Hyunjin grabs Minho and picks him up bridle style much to Minho’s dismay. Minho lets out a surprised gasp and holds onto Hyunjin just in case he drops him.
‘You wouldn’t have to worry about being dropped if Spider-Man was carrying you,’ the voice in Minho’s head returns.
At that Minho sighs in defeat and goes limp is Hyunjins hold, mental and physical exhaustion taking over once again.
“Alright princess, let's get you to bed, you've had a long day,” Hyunjin giggles quietly at the older who currently looks like a displeased cat.
The 3 boys head into Minho’s room where Hyunjin unceremoniously drops Minho onto his bed and wishes him a goodnight. Felix chuckles and approaches where Minho is splayed across the bed. He moves the hair out of Minho’s face and kisses his forehead.
“If you can’t sleep, my door is always open,” Felix assures him.
Minho nods and bids him a goodnight. He stares at the ceiling for a while after Felix leaves. His mind wanders off to a million different places and once his eyes threaten to start closing he decides he should probably get ready for bed.
He gets up with a groan and heads toward the shower. He stands underneath the scalding hot water for a while and stares off into the shower wall. He gets out when his body starts to feel too heavy to keep up right and quickly finishes his nightly routine.
He renters his bedroom with his 3 cats hot on his heels and they all make themselves comfortable in his bed. Minho gives them all a kiss goodnight and tucks himself into bed. Once he closes his eyes he immediately see’s the dark gaze of the villain. His eyes shoot back open and cuddles into himself a little tighter. He calms his rigid breathing and lets his eyes fall shut once again. His brain replays the scenes of the villain chasing him down. He shutters slightly and wills his brain to think of anything else.
The images of the frightening chase slowly start to become thoughts of the hero that saved him. His touch, his voice, the way he kept Minho so close even when they were safe. Minho would never admit it outloud but he secretly hoped the hero was around somewhere keeping watch over him. The cops told him they’d keep surveillance over his apartment but nothing in this world would make Minho feel more at ease then knowing Spider-Man was around, ready to protect and save him at a moment's notice. Like his very own guardian angel.
What Minho didn’t know was that his wishes of the hero being close had come true. If Minho’s secret was to be protected by Spider-man, then Jisung’s secret was him sitting on the roof of the apartment complex opposite of Minho’s to make sure he stayed out of harm's way all night.
A/N
thank you so much for reading the second chapter! let me know what y'all think! chapter 3 is already in the works so it should be out soon! thank you again and i'll see you soon!
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 1 - Marriage Papers or a Restraining Order?
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin
ଳ next chapter
“Do you think Captain America has to take ‘Music History’ when he’s not out saving the world?” Jisung grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans.
“No, but he’s also, like, a hundred years old I think,” Chan replied.
Jisung and Chan walked down the hallways of their college campus after another long and boring lecture. Despite them being in different years, Chan suggested to Jisung that he should take Music History with him his junior year so he wouldn’t suffer during his senior year like Chan is now. Definitely not because Chan didn’t want to struggle alone or anything. He just had his friend's best interest in mind.
“Who even cares about the ‘Baroque Era’ or why ‘Handel’s Messiah’ was so popular and life changing,” Jisung complained.
“George Handel s’rolling in his grave right now.”
“Well he can Handle these nuts in his mouth! I should be training for my first big fight! Not sitting in a 2 hour long lecture about things I’ll forget next week,” he whined.
Chan giggled and rolled his eyes while Jisung continued to complain about the lecture as they made their way to the food court. It had been roughly 4 months since Jisung became spider-man and for the most part everything was going pretty smoothly. Did he almost plummet to his death a few (many) times while he was still getting used to web swinging? He wouldn’t see why that’s important to bring up right now.
Chan was the only one to know about Jisung’s new… abilities. Jisung really did try to keep it a secret, but Chan was getting more and more concerned about why his friend kept coming home exhausted and sometimes hurt. Plus he really wanted to show someone all the cool new things he could do. He trusted Chan with his life, he knew he could tell him anything. It was also nice to have someone helping him through all of his new changes. And Chan was way better at coming up with excuses on the spot whenever Jisung accidentally did something “spidery”. It had raised a few red flags with their friends when all of a sudden Jisung went from barely being able to bench the barbell to being able to lift twice what Changbin could like it was nothing. Chan was thankfully able to play it off, but Changbin’s ego never fully healed.
Despite how worried Chan was about him, he knew his friend could handle whatever was thrown at him. While you wouldn’t know it through Jisung’s day to day actions, he was really smart and Chan had faith no villain was a match for the boy. But Chan didn’t have to worry too much right now. Jisung was hardly saving the world from heinous villains at the moment. The most he would do is stop a pickpocketer or help old ladies cross the street. Oh and watch one of his best friends friend go to and from school everyday. What!? It wasn’t weird, he was just making sure he made it safe! Listen, if Jisung was a villain he would totally kidnap the boy, he was far too pretty for his own good! He wasn’t a stalker, he was like a guardian angel.
The 2 boys walked into the food court and looked for their friends. It had become tradition for their little group to eat together every Monday after they were done with lectures and before Felix had dance practice. Chan and Jisung followed the sound of Changbin and Felix’s laughs and made their way to the table.
“Hey guys!” Felix beamed at the two.
Maybe if Jisung wasn’t so focused on the unfamiliar person sitting at their table, he would’ve made fun of the way Chan immediately seemed to melt just by Felix saying hello.
Jisung looked to Chan and glanced in the stranger's direction and gave Chan a questioning look. Chan just shrugged his shoulders and the two sat down in front of the three boys.
“How was music history?” Changbin asked with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
“Please don’t get Ji started. If I have to hear him complain about that damn class one more time I’m going to be joining famous German-British composer George Frideric Handel in his grave,” Chan grumbled, taking out both his and Jisungs lunches. Ever since high school Jisung has had a habit of finishing his food before he makes it to lunch, so Chan has always packed extra for him.
Changbin leaned to the side and cackled, understanding the reference as he had taken the class last year. Jisung turned to Chan and faked a face of pure betrayal, mouth agape and eyes widened.
“I thought you were on my side!” Jisung shrieked.
“A man can only take so many ‘Handel these nuts in your mouth’ or ‘Handel this dick in your ass’ before it starts taking a toll on your mental and physical health.”
“Why are you hating, I’m hilarious!”
“Okay okay,” Felix butts in, “please refrain from speaking about male genitalia in varying holes at the dinner table. Especially in front of Innie.”
Jisung and Chan both turned to look at the boy they had completely forgotten about during their argument. The boy stared at them trying to bite back a smile at their interaction.
“Hi I’m Jeongin, a friend of Felix’s from dance! It’s nice to meet you both!” Jeongin smiled and put his hand out for them to shake.
“Hey I’m Chan, it’s nice to meet you too.” He took the boy's hand in his own. “And this is Jisung.” Chan nodded his head in his direction.
Jisung shook Jeongin’s hand and smiled at him. He was grateful that Chan took the lead on their introduction. Jisung was always quieter in front of new people, especially ones who heard him defend himself about making inappropriate jokes about a dead composer. First impressions are important and this was definitely a way for Jeongin to get to know him.
“Innie recently joined our dance class and he’s been killing it so far!” Felix exclaimed excitedly as he put his hand on Jeongins shoulder, looking like a proud mother.
“Ah, I don’t know about killing it, but it’s been a lot of fun getting to know everyone! Jeongin replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh don’t be so humble! I think I saw Minho start to tear up when he saw you dance! It’s been so long since we’ve seen someone with your kind of talent Innie!”
Jisung’s head snapped up at the mention of Minho’s name. Changbin looked at Jisung with a downwards smile and a tilt in his brow. Jisung glared at the older boy in an intimidating way. Well as intimidating as he could get with his cheeks full of food. Changbin tried his best to suppress a silent laugh and Jisung kicked his leg underneath the table. He realized too late what he had done when Changbin howled out in pain and dramatically grabbed his leg feigning a look of pure pain and anguish.
“Yah, Jisung! What was that for!?” Changbin hollered, shin in hand and a grin on his face.
“Just felt right,” Jisung pouted and filled his cheeks with more food.
Felix and Jeongin looked at Jisung confusingly but before they could question him Chan interrupted.
“So Felix, Jeongin, are you guys excited for your first showcase of the year?”
While the boys discuss the upcoming showcase Jisung’s mind starts to drift. And because Jisung is a weak weak man, he starts thinking about his favorite pretty boy. Jisung doesn’t know what it is about Minho that has him so enraptured, but Minho has Jisung wrapped around his finger and he has no idea.
What Jisung thinks is the most pathetic about what most people would call ‘obsession’ but he likes to refer to it as a ‘special interest', is that he and Minho have never actually officially met before. Despite the fact that Minho and Felix live together, the stars have never aligned to where Minho is home at the same time as Jisung comes over. Jisung used to think it was karma for the thousands he must've slaughtered in a past life to always just miss meeting the guy, but Jisung knows now that it was actually the universe sparring him. Jisung really isn’t all that bad at flirting, but he knows damn well he would fold like a lawn chair if Minho even glanced in his direction. And to Changbin and Chan’s utmost despair, they now have to hear Jisung complain and yearn for the man but will under no circumstances ever EVER introduce himself. Jisung tells them that he will work up the confidence one day but it's been two years now and absolutely no progress has been made. But if you ask Jisung he thinks he’s getting somewhere! He used to hide on tops of buildings whenever he “escorts” Minho home safely, but now he’ll hide in an alley and they’ll be like 8 feet apart instead of like 20! Give him like 2 more years and he’ll walk by him one day and maybe even give him a little nod in passing. Slowburn has always been one of Jisung’s favorite genres, he’s doing it for the romance of it all! NOT because he’s a pussy, no matter what Changbin says.
Jisung is snapped out of his daze when he hears his name being called.
“Sorry huh?” Jisung asks, tilting his head.
“I asked if you’re excited to watch the showcase in a few weeks?!” Felix asks again, not too concerned about his friend's usual spacey behavior.
“Duh! You guys kill it every time! It’s always a pleasure to watch such beauty and magnificence grace the stage!” Jisung replies dramatically in almost a British like accent.
Felix laughs and reaches across the table to playfully smack Jisungs hand.
“Well I’m glad you’re excited. You 3 should actually be even more excited since you guys are formally invited to the after party this year!” Felix exclaimed.
“Since when do you guys do after parties?” Changbin questioned.
“Well we usually don’t but because it’s Minho's last first showcase we wanted to celebrate!”
The 3 boys nodded understanding of their reasoning, even if they knew it was more likely just an excuse to get blacked out after a grueling few months of preparation for the showcase.
“I’ll send you guys the deets when it gets closer! But for now Innie and I should get going!” Felix said while he and Jeongin stood up from the table.
“Same time next week?” Chan joked while he watched Felix leave, with an almost longing look on his face.
“You know it,” Felix replied, winking at Chan.
Changbin and Jisung giggled while Chan malfunctioned at the boys actions.
“Bye Jeongin, it was nice to meet you!” Changbin called out while they got further away.
Jeongin turned and flashed him a smile and waved at the group. The boys returned his wave and continued eating their food.
After Chan rebooted and came back to life, he turned to Jisung with a menacing smirk.
“So Ji, are you excited for the party?” Chan asked innocently.
“Well the fact that people will be there kinda sucks, but the alcohol and food will surely make up for it,” Jisung stated obviously.
“Hmm, is that all you're excited about?” Chan questioned.
Jisung looked at him suspiciously and nodded his head hesitantly, taking a bite of his food.
“Awe, can’t believe your resident pretty boy didn’t even make it on the list,” Chan fakes a saddened look, “how would he feel knowing you’re not exhilarated to meet him officially.”
Jisung’s whole world comes to a complete stop as he drops his fork on his plate. Jisung sits there like a deer frozen in headlights while Chan and Changbin holler out laughter.
The fact that Jisung would be at a party in an enclosed space with the person he’s been obsessing over, or, specially interested in, didn’t even cross his mind. The party was supposedly specifically for Minho too. Felix had been dying to get Minho and Jisung to meet but he was able to avoid it everytime, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid him at his own party.
“Oh my god Ji you are so fucked!” Changbin laughed.
“Have some faith in the boy!” Chan teased, “maybe he’ll finally work up the courage to look him in the eye!”
Jisung put his head in his hands and groaned.
“There is no way I can go to that party and make it out alive,” Jisung grumbled into his hands.
“Hmm, well you could always not go, But you’re gonna have to give Lix a reallllyyy good reason,” Chan evilly smirked, “like telling him the truth.”
“NO! Absolutely NOT!” Jisung shrieked, “I love Lix with all my heart but that boy can not keep a secret to save his life! Plus he’ll try to play cupid and get us together. Which will end horribly because everytime I’m in the same room with him I forget how to function!”
“Oh I know YOU’RE not talking!” Jisung pointed accusingly at the boy.
“Yah! At least I can talk to Hyunjin! You damn near explode anytime Minho's name is even mentioned!” Changbin replied in return, already knowing whom Jisung was referring to.
“At least I don’t have plans to propose to Min the first time I ever meet him!”
“You just don’t know how to seduce people! You can hate all you want but I made an impression on Jinnie and he eats up my affection! I expect him to send the marriage papers any day now!”
“The only papers you’re getting is a restraining order!”
“Alright you two calm down, it's really not that serious,” Chan said trying to reason with them.
“Oh I know damn well you don’t want to get involved in this, you’re the worst out of all of us,” Changbin warns.
Chan raises his hands in surrender and shovels food into his mouth minding his business.
“Don't worry Jisungie, we’ll make you look all pretty and use you as a gift to Minho for doing so well,” Changbin teased.
Jisung’s face turned a deep shade of red as he put his head on the table and groaned.
“Come on kid you can sulk later, we gotta get you to your next class,” Chan giggled as he rubbed Jisung’s back comfortingly.
Chan and Changbin walked a moping Jisung to his class. Chan warned the boy to pay attention as he knew Jisung would most likely stress over a party that doesn’t even have a date yet instead of listening to the lecture.
“See you at home, have a good day at school baby, I love you”, Changbin teased like a mother dropping her child off on the first day of school.
Jisung flipped him off and walked into the room while Chan laughed at the duo's antics.
It’s safe to say Jisung did not listen to a single thing his professor said. The first half of class was spent anxiously wondering how he was supposed to act normal in front of Minho when Felix would inevitably introduce them at the party. Jisung hasn’t even made eye contact with the boy and he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t survive it. He knows Minho is a normal guy just like everyone else but he has built up so much anticipation in his head about their first meeting he’s driven himself crazy. Minho is no longer just a normal man, he’s another entity entirely. Someone from a different planet. An otherworldly creature whose origins could probably be traced back to Venus. The planet of love, beauty and desire. That’s the only place Jisung could imagine someone like him coming from. Jisung gave Minho the title of ‘pretty boy’ because describing someone who probably doesn’t even know of his existence as pulchritudinous seemed a little insane. The first time Jisung saw Minho he googled ‘words stronger than beautiful’ and that one seemed the most dramatic which is exactly how Jisung feels for him, dramatically.
The second half of class was spent with Jisung thinking about if he were to go, what would he even wear? Jisung’s closet is every wannabe skater boy's wet dream which he adores, however the baggy clothes do nothing for his figure. Jisung has a waist that would put any Disney princess to shame and the only outfit that does it justice is his spidey suit. Has it crossed his mind to put the suit on and hype himself up to Minho before he officially meets him? Maybe. Jisungs thought process was that if Minho heard how cool Jisung was from a reliable source then he would have a better chance of making the boy swoon. And who’s more reliable than a friendly neighborhood spider-man?
While Jisung was debating his outfit options, something that Changbin had mentioned hit him like a truck. ‘Don't worry Jisungie, we’ll make you look all pretty and use you as a gift to Minho for doing so well.’ That sentence made his thoughts spiral even more. Could Minho see Jisung and think of him as pretty? As a gift? Oh no, now Jisung needs to make sure he looks his best for their first interaction. He needs to make sure the first time Minho see’s him he can hear the wedding bells start ringing. No pressure or anything.
As his lecture comes to an end Jisung has decided that he can get through his first ever meeting with Minho. He may just need a little help from Felix and his beautifying abilities and a good amount of alcohol. Jisung exits class with a little more pep in his step and his head held high. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in him that controlled his brain and heart, but he was gonna make the love at first sight trope happen like his life depended on it. And if you asked him, his life did depend on it. Jisung knows for certain that if he doesn’t implode the second he gets within 2 feet of Minho, they will fall in love and be together for the rest of their lives. How could he possibly be so certain about this? His spidey sense of course. It allows him to sense potential danger and apparently soulmates. Jisung would describe his spidey sense like alarm bells going off whenever danger is near, but when he sees Minho, you could say he hears wedding bells. Or maybe the sleepless nights and constant yearning have finally caught up to him and he’s finally lost his mind. A boy can only take so much pinning before it starts rotting your mind of all sanity. But if Minho is the last thing Jisung thinks of before he loses all sense of reality, he wouldn’t mind it much. What a pulchritudinous final thought.
Jisung makes his way out of the building and starts heading in the direction of the dance studio. On Monday’s, Jisung’s class ends a few minutes before the dancers usually leave the studio after practice. Sometimes Minho stays later to get extra practice in but Jisung doesn’t mind waiting. Obviously not if he’s willing to wait 2 years to even introduce himself but that’s not important right now.
Jisung sometimes thinks about how creepy it would seem to someone if they knew what he was doing but he really doesn’t see the harm in it! He’s just making sure a civilian get’s home safe! That’s his job! Granted maybe he wouldn’t get employee of the month for only ever escorting the same civilian home but who would blame him?
While Jisung is deep in thought over if it was hypocritical to tell Changbin he would get a restraining order for proposing to Hyunjin when he’s the one basically stalking Minho, he feels a slight tingle ripple through his body. Jisung halts his movements and tunes into himself, waiting. A few moments later he feels the same tingle ripple through his body but this time it’s much more powerful than the last. His spidey sense. The metaphorical alarm bells are ringing and Jisung knows it’s time to go. He lets his body take control as he runs towards the danger. He looks back at the dance studio and sighs. He’s sure Minho will make it home safe on his own, but this is the only time he gets to see the boy so excuse him for experiencing some withdrawals.
Jisung weaves through the people on campus and runs in the direction of the city. As he sprints into the streets he can start to hear people screaming in the distance. Jisung tunes in and listens for any clues on what could possibly be happening. He hears the sounds of what seems to be cars being thrown into buildings, the shattering of glass, and a strange mechanical whirring. It’s left him with more questions than answers but one thing is for certain. This isn’t just some petty crime, this is a real attack.
Jisung runs into an alleyway and changes into his spider suit. Jisung originally wore a red hoodie and some old blue sweatpants but with the help of Chan he was able to make a much cooler and safer suit. He throws his backpack and clothes behind a trash can and runs back into the streets. He runs a few feet down the block before he makes a b-line for a car coming his way. Jisung lets out a shaky exhale and shakes out his hands attempting to calm his nerves. This is the first real villain Jisung has ever fought and despite the anxiety that riddles his entire being, adrenaline slowly starts to take over. Finally his first chance to prove himself, he’s not going to blow it.
When the car draws near, Jisung runs up the hood of the car and onto its roof. From there he jumps and slings his web to the nearest building. Jisung starts swinging through the city as his body guides him to the chaos. He’s incredibly thankful he spent all that time practicing swinging, now would be a bad time to fall thousands of feet in the air.
As Jisung gets closer to the mayhem, he can start hearing more and more. Cars honking, the heavy breathing coming from people running for their lives, metal crashing into each other, but one thing stands out amongst the rest. He can hear the distant wail of a man screeching a name.
He can barely make it out through all the commotion going on. Rory? No, no not that. He focuses hard on the man's shrill voice.
“Rosie?” Jisung whispers to himself.
Before Jisung can think anything of the name, something catches his eye. A red honda civic starts hurtling towards him. Jisung maneuvers his body out of the way and lands back on the ground. He looks around for the man but can’t see anything other than absolute destruction around him. Jisung is baffled at the scenery in front of him. It didn’t take him longer than 15 minutes to get to the heart of the city and yet there is already so much damage. Whatever was causing this was powerful.
Jisung catapults himself down the street looking for the threat. His eyes scan over the roofs of buildings and the streets below but he can’t seem to find the cause of all this destruction. Jisung grows more and more frustrated as he can’t seem to find the source. The loud crashing of cars and almost deafening screams are starting to become too much for him.
Even before Jisung gained enhanced hearing he never really enjoyed being around loud sounds or crowded places. He would get overstimulated quickly and now with his powers it seemed to only get worse. But Jisung knew he had to push the overwhelming feeling aside and focus on the job at hand.
After what felt like hours of web slinging, Jisung saw a woman with her arms held tightly around her limp body. She wore a lab coat that was covered in blood and shards of glass. Jisung knew if he left her there she would die quickly so he landed and fell to his knees in front of her shaking form.
“Ma’am are you okay, can you hear me?” Jisung frantically questions, gently placing his hands on one of the very few spots on her arms that wasn’t covered in blood.
This jolts the woman seemling back to life as her eyes shoot open and gasps for air. She looks around frantically and after a few seconds finally seems to take notice of the boy in front of her.
“No please you need to leave he, he’s gone insane you need to run!” The woman barely chokes out.
“Who’s he? Who’s gone insane?”
“Dr.O-Octavius, he built something, but, but it-” Before the woman could finish her sentence her eyes slowly shut and she went limp in Jisungs hold.
Before Jisung could even comprehend what had happened another car came flying just a few feet above his head. Jisung gently lets go of the woman and shoots up from his place on the ground. The sound of mechanical whirring is much closer so he follows it without a second thought.
His heart is beating so loudly he’s pretty sure it’s going to burst his ear drums at any moment. He’s been wanting a real fight so bad for months but now that it’s happening he’s not so sure. Maybe it was the woman dying in his arms that sobered him up but Jisung is now afraid that he might not be good enough to win this. The image of the woman’s passing flashes through his head but Jisung quickly shakes the thought away. He’ll just have to deal with the aftermath of that later.
Jisung can feel that he’s getting closer to whoever this Dr.Octavius is and the adrenaline starts coursing through his body once again. The screams have almost completely subsided now and he would usually enjoy the quiet but Jisung misses the noise now more than ever. At least when they’re screaming they’re still alive.
Jisung rounds the corner of the building and finally sees the man causing all this terror. He lands back on the ground and immediately starts running toward the man who lets out an anguished cry.
“ROSIE WHERE ARE YOU?” He screeched as he picked up another car with one of his mechanical tentacles and threw it towards a building.
Jisung assessed the situation as best as he could with what little time he had. Chan always told him to look for the best in people and while he could tell the man was clearly in pain and looking for someone he was also causing mass destruction and probably killing hundreds. He wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt and believe that he was just acting out because he lost someone he truly loved but he was far too great of a threat to try and have an impromptu therapy session unconstricted. Jisung knew he had to get the man confined so he could try and talk to him without his life being on the line so he started to think of a plan. The man seemed to be just a normal, well, man and his biggest threat were the four mechanical tentacles that protruded from his back. Jisung knew if he wanted to get close to him he had to get the tentacles under control. He figured he could use his webs to trap the tentacles in sort of a spiderweb and that should be able to hold him off long enough to try and understand what he was doing. It wasn’t until Jisung came just a few feet from the man that it finally hit him.
Oh my god that man has robot tentacles.
Where the fuck did he get robot tentacles? Why did he not get robot tentacles? He wanted robot tentacles.
Jisung’s thoughts ended abruptly when yet another car whizzed past him. Many thoughts were already racing through his mind but one stood out amongst the rest.
He really hoped these people had good car insurance.
The man, presumably Dr.Octavius, had taken notice of Jisung and was gearing up to fight him. Jisung knew any sort of conversation would most likely fall on deaf ears as the doctor seemed hysterical so instead of trying to reason with him Jisung kicked off the nearest wall and swung into action.
Jisung looped around the doctor and shot his webs at the tentacles trying to get them stuck together. But with every web he shot, the man was able to pry his way out of them. The tentacles were far stronger then Jisung had anticipated and if his webs couldn’t hold him down then Jisung and the city were in big trouble.
With a new idea in mind Jisung began scaling the side of a nearby office building and just as he hoped, the doctor followed him up. Jisung climbed gracefully up the building while the doctor's mechanical appendages rammed their way into the side of the building, completely destroying the property value.
As they made their way up the tall building the doctor used the other tentacles that weren’t helping him climb to try and pierce Jisung. Jisung weaved side to side avoiding the doctor's blows. The amount of force that the appendages were using to try and pierce Jisung caused the building's structure to rattle with each hit. Due to the vibrations Jisung started to lose his grip and he knew if they continued like this he would either fall or get struck.
As they were nearing the top of the building Jisung saw a giant hole in the building just a few feet ahead. It looked like some kind of explosion had completely taken the wall out. He decided to take his chances and headed towards the opening, hoping to find a better way to get the man under control.
Jisung hurried into the hole and catapulted himself to the other side of the room creating distance between himself and the madman. Dr.Octavius soon follows him through but stays on the other side of what seems to be a destroyed lab. The doctor mournfully looks around the room and sighs.
“Why are you doing this?” Jisung questions carefully not wanting to anger the man further.
The doctor looks at Jisung regretfully and lets out a shaky exhale.
“This is all my fault.” The doctor whispers.
Jisung stays quiet, silently urging the man to go on.
“I just, I just wanted to build something that could fuel the world. A source so powerful it could rival the sun. A sustainable fusion power reactor. But it wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready and yet I still powered it up. And look where it got me. I lost everything and now look like the monster I am.”
Jisung stood there and listened to him explain. He wanted to interrupt and say he thought the tentacles were badass but he figured it wasn’t the right time.
“The reactor malfunctioned and my wife, she was there and now I can’t find her and and the tentacles are fused with me but seem to have a mind of their own and it feels like I’m losing control and-”
Jisung could tell the man was about to become hysterical again and not wanting him to cause another scene he interrupts his rambling.
“Hey look it’s okay. You obviously didn’t mean for any of this to happen. There’s nothing we can do to change what has already happened but we can figure out where to go from here. You said you lost your wife? I’m sure she couldn’t have gone very far, maybe she evacuated to somewhere safe.”
‘To get away from you destroying the city’, Jisung added in his head.
“I need to make sure she’s okay, that she’s still alive.”
“Okay okay we can do that. But you can’t tear the whole city to shreds. That’ll only make things worse.”
The doctor nodded his head and Jisung let out a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn’t too bad at this whole superhero thing. Hunt down the bad guy, run from the bad guy, give said bad guy some life changing advice, this was a piece of cake.
“Great, now what does your wife look like?” Jisung questioned.
“She’s about 5’8, long brunette hair, and she’s probably still wearing her lab coat,” the doctor explains.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Jisung knew exactly where his wife was, she died in his arms not very long ago.
Jisung stood there silent for a few seconds not knowing what to do. He figured he had two options. He could not tell him and let him figure it out when they came across her dead body, which would lead to another outburst. Or he could tell him now and, well, have it lead to another outburst. Either way this was going to end unfavorably for everyone. If the doctor was tearing shit up when he thought she was alive, he couldn’t imagine the damage he would do knowing he had nothing left to lose.
“Is everything okay?” the doctor questioned.
“I think I know where your wife is,” Jisung whispered, head bowed.
Dr.Octavius stared at the boy quizzically for a few moments trying to decipher why Jisungs mood had changed so quickly. The boy had gone from incredibly enthusiastic despite his obvious nerves to dull and somber just by mentioning his… wife.
Octavius’ eyes darkened.
“Where is she?” He gritted out.
“I really don’t think you want to know-” Jisung tried to explain but was quickly interrupted.
“WHERE IS SHE?” the doctor roared.
“Listen, I really don’t think you should see her when you’re like this-”
“WHY ARE YOU KEEPING HER FROM ME?”
“I am not trying to keep her from you but you have to understand that-”
Jisung was cut off again by the doctor fastly approaching him. Jisung swung out of the way just in time as the tentacles tried to capture him.
“BRING ME TO HER!” the doctor boomed.
“Trust me you really don’t want me to-” Jisung yelps, moving out of the way as a desk comes flying at him. “Okay you REALLY need to stop fucking throwing things at mE!” He exclaims running away from yet another flying object.
“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS NOW!” Dr.Octavius yelled, redying another desk to throw at the boy.
“FINE SHE’S ON EAST 2ND STREET NOW WILL YOU PLEASE PUT THE DESK DOWN!” Jisung shouted.
Dr.Octavius turned and left without another word and Jisung followed close behind. Maybe he should’ve mentioned she was dead before he told him her location but damn was Jisung tired of getting shit thrown at him today.
They made their way down the streets of the damaged city. The doctor stayed on the ground sprinting while Jisung swung a few feet above him. The sun was starting to set and Ji briefly wondered if Minho had made it home safe or not. He figured Min most likely took one look at the news and decided to stay somewhere else for the night as he lived deeper in the city, which was now covered in broken glass and upside down cars. Jisung started debating whether or not he should try and find him to make sure he was okay wherever he had decided to stay. To make sure a citizen was okay of course, not because he was pretty sure half the reason he was shaking was his body's reaction to not seeing him for so long (22 hours, but who’s counting).
As they both neared the street where Rosie laid, the sound of distant sirens could be heard echoing through the now almost deserted city. Jisung tried to focus on the sound to distract himself from the bile that seemed to make its way up his throat. The idea of going back to that street, that place, and seeing a woman he wasn’t able to save was nothing short of nauseating. There was really nothing Jisung could’ve done to save the woman, she wouldn’t have made it to a hospital and even if she did, her condition was so horrible she probably wouldn’t have survived the night. But still, he felt like it was his fault. Like maybe if he had gotten there faster he could’ve done something to save her. Or maybe if he had done his job a little better he could have noticed someone building a nuclear fucking reactor and stopped it before they had a chance to finish building it.
But Jisung didn’t do any of that. He failed before he even had the chance to try and succeed. This wasn’t his one and only opportunity to prove himself, the opportunity was there all along, he was just too busy moping to see it.
Jisung’s entire body tightened as they turned down the street. The sign that read ‘East 2nd Street’ seemed to laugh at him. To mock him for not being good enough. He swore the buildings were taunting him, calling him names. He not only couldn’t save Rosie, but he also couldn't save Octavius. Rosie may have been the one to die, but the doctor was the one who would have to live without her. Which was arguably worse.
Jisung landed a few feet behind the doctor to give him space as they neared her. He hung his head low and waited for Octavious to cry out in pain. To scream until his throat tore into two. But there was nothing. There was no yelling, no wails, just the sirens creeping closer.
Jisung slowly lifted his head to look at the two. The doctor was knelt hunched over his beloved cradling her in his arms. Silent tears streamed down the man's face. His body shook slightly from the silent sobs that wracked through his body.
All Jisung felt was guilt. A true hero would have been able to save her and in turn save him too. But without so much as raising his fist, he managed to kill them both.
The doctor slowly turned his head toward the boy.
“This is all your fault,” the doctor spat.
Logically Jisung knew this wasn’t true. Octavius built the faulty reactor. Octavius was the one to set off the reactor. And Octavius was the one who drove his wife to run away wounded and bleeding. Jisung knew the doctor just couldn’t take accountability for what he had done. That he just needed someone else to blame. Rosie was the last thing that made the doctor feel human and now that she was gone what was left of him? Dr.Octavius was now a shell of a once great man who lost everything. He had nothing left to live for.
And maybe that’s why Jisung replied, “I know.”
But Jisung was wrong. Octavius did have something to live for, revenge.
The mechanical tentacles slam into the ground one by one as they lift Octavius into the air. With one last look at his beloved lying dead on the concrete he turns toward Jisung. There is now a dark sinister look in the man’s eyes. Any trace of solemn has vanished into thin air and was now replaced by the overbearing primal urge to slaughter. With each step the tentacles took toward Jisung the human side of the man seemed to dissipate the further he got away from Rosie. If the doctor was a bitch to deal with when he had something to lose, Jisung was really going to be in for it now.
Jisung turned and started web swinging down the streets of the city. He knew if it really came down to it he had a good chance of defeating the doctor but Jisung didn’t really want anymore blood on his hands today, so he swung in the direction of the sirens. He figured there had to be at least 30 or so cop cars headed in his direction and while him and the police don’t exactly see eye to eye they could at least help sedate the crazed man.
The doctor is screaming insults and profanities at Jisung as they make their way towards the sirens. Ji is sure he’d be offended by whatever the doctor is spewing behind him but his heart is beating so loud he can barely hear anything else, which is probably for the best.
The way Jisung is swinging and maneuvering around and over the buildings is truly a sight. He hasn’t exactly been paying attention to where he was in the city, just trying his best to meet the police in the middle. He skillfully navigates through the streets like he’s done this a million times before, and he’s starting to think maybe he has.
Jisung takes in his surroundings and before he can even react he feels a rush go through his body. His spider sense has obviously been kicked into full gear this entire time because well there is a revenge driven mad scientist trying to kill him. But this wasn’t his usual spidey sense.
Jisung glances at the buildings he's using as momentum to keep swinging and they’re starting to become more and more familiar. Jisungs heart just about falls out of his ass when he sees a familiar apartment coming into view.
And then his heart goes from his ass straight down to hell when the alarm bells start to get drowned out by a choir of wedding bells. Usually Jisung accepts this symphony with open arms but his world is ready to explode into pieces when he sees a boy with brown hair standing outside of his apartment.
Minho.
A/N
thank you so much for reading the first chapter! the next chapter should be out soon!!
this is only the second fic i’ve ever written so i hope it’s coherent enough!
thank you for reading and i’ll see you soon!
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𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - alpha!yang jeongin x omega fem!reader
wc: 6.2k
cw: a/b/o dynamics!, alpha jeongin, omega reader, pack alpha channie, pack dynamics overall, jeongin and reader are both desperate, jeongin gets kinda possessive, heat cycles & knotting
synopsis: you want the newly presented alpha jeongin to help you with your heat, but you're a little embarrassed - until you realise he desperately wants to spend it with you.
a/n: i wrote this in 2 nights and i was barking the whole time i'm in my jeongin feelings! sw under the cut 18+ MDNI
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: squirting, briefest fem rec oral, reader considers somnophilia, unprotected sex, copious amounts of breeding kink, a lot of slick, bath sex, doggy with his foot on her head, fingering (fem rec), dirty talk, riding, brief handjob, cum swallowing, choking, KNOTTING!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Two hoodies, a pair of joggers, a sleeveless shirt, Felix’s pillow and two t-shirts, and it still feels like it’s not enough. You stare at your nest with a frown, foot thumping on the floor and a pout on your bottom lip. You need more, and it feels like your nest is particularly lacking in a certain scent - something fresh, floral, and not Hyunjin’s rose scent.
Your preheat has your pussy throbbing dully, head feeling a little disoriented, and you walk around in one of Chan’s t-shirts and your underwear and nothing else. You’re warm, not the type of warm you are when in the throes of your heat, but it still makes your skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Your nose twitches when you finally try to rearrange the items on your bed, but it’s still not enough.
It needs more lavender, to be precise, but the idea of knocking on Jeongin’s door to ask the newly-presented alpha for one of his shirts makes your cheeks heat up even more. You’re too embarrassed, despite the whole pack knowing you’re entering your preheat - you can’t do that. Jeongin’s only just presented, and despite the fact you’d presented early and are younger than him, he was the baby. You saw him as your baby.
Still, your thighs tremble a little as you lean over your bed. You may see him as your baby, but he’s definitely more than capable of taking care of an omega in heat. It’s in his instincts now.
You huff, exiting your room. It’s easy to beeline straight to Chan’s room and swing open the door, seeing him laying in his bed and scrolling through his phone. The mere idea of the thick alpha cock in his joggers has you wanting to whine, but you shake your head, crossing the room to his bed to pout.
He doesn’t acknowledge you until you’re sat cross legged, arms crossed over your chest, and when he does speak it’s with an amused tone. “What’s the matter with my little omega?”
“My preheat is making me crazy,” You avoid his eyes, staring at your lap. Your hands are knotted over your thighs, and you pick at your fingernails. He coos at you cutely, finally tossing his phone to the side and opening those broad biceps to welcome you close. Your Channie smells of the beach when you press your front into his, and he lets you straddle him. He’s shirtless because you’ve stolen his shirt. “Tryin’ to nest. Not good enough. It’s bad.”
“Now, I’m sure your nest is fine, baby,” Chan mumbles into your hairline, fingertips tracing up your back through your - his shirt. You mutter a few choice words back, and when his fingers go to the small of your back, it makes your pussy clench around nothing. Chan dutifully ignores the spike in your scent, kissing your forehead. “What’s wrong with it? Can alpha make it better, honey?”
You shift in his lap. “I don’t- I don’t have everyone’s things in there. It’s- it’s missing Innie. I don’t wanna ask.” Your words are muffled where you bury your face in his chest, and you want to bite him hard when he starts to chuckle.
“Why don’t you want to ask?” He says, amused, and you kick your feet with a wail. He catches your legs with his toned thighs, trapping you between them, and you want to grind your clit all over him till you’re senseless from the show of strength. Damn preheat. “He won’t mind. He’ll like it, actually - you're treating him as one of your alphas now that he’s presented.”
“Wanted his stuff in there before anyways,” You insist, and Chan nods, humming.
“What makes it different now, hm?” His hands move to your ass, freeing you from the tight hold on your legs, and you do really gush a rivulet of slick this time. It makes you gasp, hips searching for something, anything, and Chan’s fingers just barely dip past the waistband of your panties. You raise your head, cheeks bright red, and Chan stares at you. His eyes darken, and he raises an eyebrow, before he’s smirking. “Oh, baby. You want our Iyennie for your heat?”
“N-no!” You stammer, shaking your head. “I never said-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” He muses, that stupid smirk still on his lips. You watch him run a hand through his hair, dark and curly and just as unruly as his sleep schedule. “Mm, I think it’d be nice to see, though. You know Felix helped him through his first rut? He was almost feral, baby, rutting into Felix like there was no tomorrow. Felix said he popped four knots on just the first day.”
Now, that makes you whine. Your head drops back to Chan’s chest, and you grind backwards to try and get his fingers further in your panties. Your mind is filled with the idea of Jeongin’s cock, thick and long and so alpha, his knot throbbing at the base and him fucking it into you until you’re joined together, filling you with loads and loads of his cum and-
Chan’s fingers move over your ass, finally dipping into your panties, and the pads of his fingers press against your hole. It flutters around nothing, and you leak more slick, your hips absentmindedly moving on his fingers to get some form of friction. Your eyes shut just barely, half lidded and glassy, and Chan lets out a little noise of approval at the look on your face.
“Wanna know what I think?” Chan murmurs, and you make a strangled noise in response. “I think you need to ask our baby alpha to help you through your heat, baby.”
“Hnnng, yeah,” You respond, because there’s nothing else you can say. He’s right. That’s why it felt like such a stab in the heart when you didn’t have something of Jeongin’s in your nest - you want him so badly for this heat that it’s making your pussy gush more than you ever have, and your toes curl at the thought of it. “Yeah. Yeah, alpha, I will, just- for now, can- please, and-”
“I got you, baby. Lie there and let alpha take care of you.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You stand nervously wringing your hands together an hour and a half later. Chan didn’t pop a knot inside of you, but he fucked you and ate your pussy until you were sated and crying before washing you clean in the bath. He’s so caring, your pack alpha, and now you stand in front of Jeongin’s door with a blush high on your cheekbones again, a towel wrapped tightly around your head. You’re in a fresh pair of panties and one of Minho’s shirts this time, the alpha’s chocolate scent wrapping around your senses and sending you haywire. You still want lavender more than anything.
Jeongin swings open his door before you can knock, and he’s practically beaming at you. “Baby! I was just about to look for you. I found this show, and- oh. You’re really in it, aren’t you?”
You are. Your preheat is really pissing you off, and you know it could be tonight or tomorrow when your heat really kicks in. You don’t have time to sit around and be embarrassed about asking Jeongin, and he’s standing in a sleeveless shirt and sweat shorts. The scent of lavender hits you and your legs buckle, barely catching yourself on the doorframe. Your pussy’s gushing slick again, and the simple cotton panties you have on feel heavy with it.
“Innie,” You whine, rubbing your thighs together. Your slick has started to drip down to the tops of your thighs, and it makes you huff out an impatient breath. You need something, anything, and Jeongin’s just staring at you with a blank look on his face. “Innie. Innie, I- for my heat, you? I want you, can you- please? It’s okay if you don’t wanna, I get it, I just-”
“Of course I fucking want to,” Jeongin says instantly, and you can see him chubbing up in his shorts. You have to close your eyes before you jump his bones. “I- me, though? I’ve never fucked an omega during heat, baby, I- I want to so bad, but are you sure?”
“I’m sure, I’m sure, Jeongin, I want you. I want you so bad, fuck, my nest, please, please, please come with me, I can’t, I can’t,” You’re babbling, words slurring, but Jeongin nods as if he understood every syllable. You let him usher you away from his door and down the hallway towards yours, the show he was talking about completely abandoned, and when his large palm splays over your waist and holds you close to walk there you feel like you’re about to die. Sweat beads at your eyebrow and your vision goes dizzy with it, but Jeongin guides you, firm and strong like an alpha should always be. It makes your pussy throb and you have the fleeting thought that you could enter your heat now, surrounded by the young alpha and his lavender scent.
You let him shut the door behind you, and then you’re jumping him. He lets you crowd him against your bedroom wall, only letting out a small noise of surprise when your lips attach to his and you’re kissing him filthy. Your tongue darts impatiently into his mouth, and he moves his hands to your hips, pulling you close. His hands are so big that his fingers splay over your ass, and you hear a few voices outside of your bedroom door. One sounds like Chan, and you’re momentarily filled with glee, hoping that he’s proud of you because you actually asked.
When you finally pull away with a bite to his bottom lip, spit sticks the two of you together, and Jeongin scoffs out a laugh of shock. His eyes form crescent moons in his disbelief, but before you can ask him what’s so funny, you’re working on autopilot, yanking at the hem of his shirt.
“Off, off,” You insist, and he nods, letting you work his shirt off of him. You motion to your bed, trying to walk backwards with him clinging to you. “For my nest. My nest, alpha, see?”
“Beautiful nest,” Jeongin replies, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucks right over your scent gland and moans, deep and gravelly, and you let him push you backwards onto your bed. His shirt drops from your hand and lands right next to your pillow, and you want to giggle and kick your feet in delight when his scent envelops you more. “Beautiful omega, lettin’ me see you like this. Fuck, do you need- do you need something? Do you wanna kiss some more?”
“Mm, alpha, I need- need more, please,” You say, voice high and airy, and you watch his eyes roll back into his head at your tone. He’s never been with an omega like this, and you briefly think you need to cut him some slack, but you’re too busy pushing your panties down your legs. You toss them to the floor with a wet thud, and he finally pulls his face from your neck, fox-like eyes gluing on the space between your legs.
You can see him fully like this, planes of milky white skin exposed and clenching to a set of abs that have you keening. You reach out, and Jeongin grips your hand, running it down his stomach with a small smile.
“Sexy alpha,” You muse, and he giggles delightedly, moving to lean over you again. He can’t believe you’ve let him have you like this so soon after his presentation, and it shows in the facial expressions he makes. You know your pussy is gushing slick that must reach through his sweat shorts and onto his cock, but he’s still ever the picture of self control, leaning up slightly to run two long fingers through your folds.
“Sexy omega,” He retorts, and you feel his fingers dip into you just slightly. “Do you want it? This is okay, yeah?”
“You don’t need to beg, baby, I know,” He pecks your nose sweetly, and then two fingers push into your hole, straight down to his knuckles. He twists them a few times in your sloppy pussy, lips parting at the sound of your pussy squelching, and you wail when he curls them against your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- you’re really wet, are you sure you’re not in heat?”
“Not yet,” You shake your head, eyes glassy at the feeling of having something of him inside. This is what you needed - this is the pack mate you wanted, and he’s on top of you with his floppy brown hair and cute, plushy lips. He lets his teeth dig into his bottom lip when you moan at a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, his digits long and precise, and you know it’s not going to be long until you cum. Your head feels dizzy with it, preheat engulfing your senses and making you think nothing more than Jeongin, alpha, Jeongin, Innie, yours. “Innie, Innie, when I- when I go into heat, I want you to just take it, please! Take what you want, take me, I’ll present for you, I promise-”
“Fuck, will you?” He groans, hips rutting into your thigh. It’s the first loss of his self control, and it makes you gush down to his knuckles. He grinds his palm into your clit, wet and messy and sloppy, and your eyes roll back into your head. “Be a good breeding bitch for me, yeah? Alpha will take what he wants, baby, don’t worry.”
“Oh, oh- oh, p-please, please, I’m gonna cum,” You stammer, hips starting to grind into his hand. He yanks your shirt up then, exposing your tits, nipples hard and peaked, and he spits onto your chest. He rubs it in with his spare hand, barely holding himself up with his elbow, and you moan when you smell his scent spreading all over you as if he’s marking you. You want more, though. “Jeongin, alpha, alpha, lemme- lemme scent you, please? Please, wan’it when I cum, please!”
He nods eagerly, and he slides a third finger into your fluttering hole just as he guides your head to his neck. You lick over his scent gland, messy and imprecise, and a well-calculated grind of his palm has you falling into the throes of your orgasm. You shake, keening all the way through it, and your pussy gushes more slick all over his digits. You almost feel bad until you hear the way he’s moaning back at you, letting you suck over his scent gland and get fully enveloped in him.
You’re nearly drunk with it, and it takes an inhuman amount of strength that no omega should have to pull yourself away and tug impatiently at his shorts. Jeongin finally lets his fingers slide out of you, and then he’s using both big hands to wiggle the offending fabric down. You smile satedly when he leaves them in your nest, but then you’re gasping at the sight of him naked.
Jeongin’s big. You knew most alphas were, since Chan and Minho were, but his cock hangs heavy and leaking between his legs. His knot is fully formed already, waiting for you, and you moan, soft and needy. You make grabby hands at him until he’s settled between your legs.
“Fucking- shit, baby, you want it? I can- I knot a lot, I can still knot you through your heat,” Jeongin assures, and you let him push your legs backwards to spread you open. Your pussy is still creamy and messy, and you obediently cup your hands in the pits of your knees to give him a good look. Your clit throbs when he rubs his cockhead against it, peeking out of your folds with how swollen it is. With a small, impatient whine from you, he’s sliding home. He bottoms out instantly, and your clit rubs against the thatch of hair at his base deliciously.
“Big,” You say, breathless, and Jeongin chuckles. “Big alpha cock. Mm, gimme, c’mon, fuck me with it.”
“I’m gonna fuck you with it. I’m gonna fuck you senseless,” He says, and then his hips are kicking up. All of his dance training has paid off, and his cock thrusts into you so fast your bed is squeaking. You’re happy you’ve had everyone else in the pack in this exact position already, otherwise your cheeks would burn crimson. You’re too busy whining and drooling all over your nest to care. “W-wet. Wet omega pussy, holy shit.”
“I’ll cum quickly, I’ll cum so quick, fuck- I’m gonna squeeze you so tight, alpha, I promise,” You wail, eyes finally leaking tears from the pleasure. His cock is heavy inside of you, and his head drops to your neck again, teeth just barely nipping at your scent gland playfully. With a shift of his hips, he’s fucking against your g-spot, and the feeling of his balls slapping against you drives you borderline insane. “Alpha! Alpha, oh, it’s s’good, s’good!”
“I know, fucking hell, baby,” He huffs, laughing in disbelief. “I’m gonna knot you. Fuck, baby, I can’t, I’ll last longer next time, I promise, just- let me knot you? Fuck, let me breed this cunt, please, omega, please, let alpha.”
“Alpha, please, yeah, yeah!” You babble, nodding impatiently, and his teeth bite into your scent gland firmer this time, just above Chan’s pack alpha bite. With another few thrusts, you feel his knot finally slot into your pussy, and the feeling has you squirting all over him again. You know he’s probably soaking with it, but the thought only makes you cum harder, especially when you feel his cock start to spurt hot cum inside of you. His knot causes it to leak out around his shaft, and you keen loudly, trying to grip his cock tighter with your hole to keep his load inside.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jeongin coos, out of breath. His cock is still spurting inside of you, and his hips stutter to try and push it further inside despite the knot keeping him firmly in place. “I’ve got more cum for you later, pretty, I’ll give you my pups.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You wake up to the scent of lavender and pain in your tummy. It’s hit, you realise, no doubt spurred on by the alpha who’s let you sleep on his chest. You’re both still fully naked, his cock half-hard against the base of his tummy, and your pussy’s gushed a puddle onto Felix’s pillow. You almost feel a little guilty until you realise he’ll definitely just lick it clean and thank you for it.
Your limbs are still heavy with sleep, but you attempt to stretch out your legs. The movement just makes the cramps hit a little heavier, and you whine in pain, moving to scent Jeongin and try to calm your heat. You’re sweaty, a sheen beading on your chest and over your forehead, vision blurry, and Jeongin pulls you closer into his neck despite still being asleep.
Inhaling deeply, you run your hand down his stomach just like he’d made you do earlier. His muscles ripple under your touch and you feel like you’re about to go cross-eyed. You’re not even sure what time it is. Your phone is dead somewhere inside your room, and Jeongin discarded his own phone in his room when you’d jumped him. The memory almost makes you snicker, but the scent of lavender hitting your nose almost immediately quells the cramps in your tummy and you moan into his skin.
Feeling a little impatient, you let your hand run down to the base of his cock, fingers stroking over the thatch of hair. Would he let you, in his sleep? He’d been so caring, so willing to bend for your needs earlier. Could you just… straddle his lithe thighs, let his big cock slide into your hole and wake him up with his knot locking you together?
You’re so delirious with it you shake your head against his skin, sighing out a stuttered breath and trying to keep yourself together. You can’t wake him up, not now, not when he’s just treated you so well and is just getting some sleep. You shift on the bed again, trying to move away and calm down, but a hand moving to your hair has you gasping in surprise.
“Your heat’s hit, yeah?” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. It brings a deeper tone to your alpha’s voice that makes your pussy gush impatiently onto his thigh, and he treats you with a fond chuckle at the feeling. “C’mere. You wanna ride me?”
“Yes, yes, please, please, Iyennie,” You beg, and he nods, finally opening his eyes. They’re dark when he finally looks at you, his strong cheekbones only slightly illuminated by the streetlights outside, and you clamber on top of him. You’re so wet, dripping over his body until you finally grip the base of his cock and slide down onto him in one go. “Oh my god. Oh my god, alpha, oh my god, oh my god, big, big-”
“Ssh,” He comforts you, thumbs moving to rub circles into your thighs. “Bounce on it, baby. Let alpha wake up a little.”
So you do. Your hips bounce on top of him and you work yourself up into bliss. He just stares at you with half-lidded eyes, little grunts slipping from his lips when you hit it particularly deep and gush even more on top of him.
“If you need it, you just take it,” Jeongin says, and you’re confused until you realise how he’d woken up to you in such a worked-up frenzy. “Take it whenever. It’s yours, omega, let me wake up to this messy pussy and I’ll- god, I’ll knot you whenever you need it.”
“I need it. I need it, I need it, oh, oh, alpha, I need it!” You wail, tits jiggling with your bounces, and Jeongin hums in response. He looks to be considering something, and after a long blink his eyes are open wider, more awake. With his alpha strength, he manages to pull you off of his cock, and you immediately begin to sniffle.
“Why? Why? You said I could, you said I could, alpha, you said-”
He’s flipping you onto your stomach in a quick movement, a growl leaving his lips when you just squirm on your tummy. Your pussy’s leaking even more now, and you’re crying, too, desperate for your lavender boy and his big cock.
“Remember what you said to me?” A large palm smacks your ass, and you squeak, pussy clenching and gushing. “Hands and knees like a good breeding bitch, c’mon, be a good omega for your alpha.”
“Oh, fuck,” You respond, quite intelligently, but then you’re deliriously pushing yourself up onto your knees. You arch your back for him, letting him see the way your hole flutters with emptiness, just slightly gaping from his thick length.
“Fuck, baby, alpha’s gotta- I need to taste you,” Jeongin moans, and then his nose presses into you with a deep lick. He positively whines into your folds at the taste, tongue flicking over your clit and hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you supported. Your toes curl into the sheets, head dropping to your pillow with a loud, strangled moan. His t-shirt is still next to your pillow, and your nose buries into it, inhaling deeply with every moan he punches from your lungs.
“Please, please, please,” You slur, muffled in his t-shirt, and he hums against your hole. It has you bucking back into his mouth, and when his mouth leaves you you really do sob this time. “Alpha, you said I don’t have to beg, being- being mean, being mean, Jeonginnie, Innie, why, why-”
You’re cut off by him sheathing his cock into your heat again, balls deep and heavy inside of you. He moans loudly, hand slapping down onto your ass again, and you whine in response, shaking your hips backwards onto him. It’s only a brief moment before he’s bunny-fucking into you just like he had earlier in the day, cockhead kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“Fuck. F-fuck, omega, do you always get this wet?” Jeongin keens, voice airy, and the break in his resolve has your head spinning. You squirm against him, and his hands move to your waist, trying to hold you still. “W-wet, wet, so wet, fuck. You’re making alpha’s cock feel so good baby, so pretty in your little nest.”
“W-wanted your things in it, Innie, wanted- wanted to smell you, I- please,” You’re babbling again, but you can’t help it, drooling all over Jeongin’s t-shirt while he fucks your pussy into oblivion. “I wanted you, Channie- Channie made me ask, and, and I was scared, and-”
“Never be scared, b-baby, not to ask me to fuck this little pussy,” He reasons, and you nod, whining. His cock presses deeper into you, and you feel him reposition on the bed, and then his foot rests on your head, pushing you down. “Is- is this okay, omega? Keepin’ you in place for me to fuck you, yeah? S-squirmy girl, you are.”
“‘S okay, ‘s so okay, so okay,” You try, but it’s still muffled. Your eyes are rolling back into your head at this point, your mattress squeaking and headboard thudding against the wall. Despite him holding you down you’re still trying to move, to grind your clit against something, anything, and you moan gratefully when one of Jeongin’s hands moves from your ass to underneath you, letting you grind your messy clit against his palm.
“Make yourself cum,” He instructs, and you nod, fingernails digging into your nest. It must be a mess by now, laden with cum and your scents, but you don’t care - Jeongin will help you fix it later. You know he will, even through your delirious mind and your pussy gushing slick out over his cock and his knot. You still grind yourself downwards, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and his foot holds you down harder. You whine, arching your back to the point it’s almost painful.
You feel it start to gush out of you before you even know it’s happening. “C-cumming! Cumming, alpha, alpha! I’m cumming, alpha, please, please-”
“What are you begging for?” Jeongin chuckles deliriously, hand smacking your ass. “Let it all out, a-all over me, all over your alpha’s cock. Give it to me, that’s it.”
You do. Your pussy gushes over and over, and with a loud growl, Jeongin’s knotting you again. His knot swells to the point that you know it’s going to be a stretch, and it slides inside with a wet noise before he’s filling you with his cum again. It’s thick, abundant, but his knot is so big this time it keeps it nice and secure inside of you.
“Fuck, breedin’ you nice and full, yeah?” He murmurs, and you nod satedly, your eyes fluttering shut. You could sleep like this, especially when he finally repositions you to lay with your back to his chest on your side, his knot steadily pumping cum inside of you. Part of you hopes it takes despite your birth control. His hand rubs over your tummy, and he snickers when he rubs one finger over your clit and makes you whine in overstimulation.
A few minutes pass, and Jeongin manages to slide out of you, leaving your pussy gaping and messy. You want to make a noise of dissatisfaction, but you’re too tired, your heat leaving you sleepy and Jeongin leaving you satisfied.
“C’mon,” Jeongin huffs, fingernails tracing over the small of your back. “Let me run you a bath, omega. A bath and then food, yeah?”
“Hnnnfg,” You murmur, eyes fluttering shut. He’s fucked you so good it’s got you feeling floaty, heat completely sated until the next wave of arousal hits you. “‘M tired, Innie.”
“A bath and then food. That’s it, I promise. Let me take care of you.”
You can’t say no. You swing your heavy limbs to the side of the bed and follow Jeongin to where he’s fiddling with the bath taps, running you a nice, warm bath. He lets you press your face into his neck from behind to keep you grounded while he gets it sorted for the two of you, and you wrap your arms around his middle with a happy grin on your face. When he finally guides you into the bath with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek, you’re happy to stretch your legs out and let him wiggle in behind you.
“Ah, there. Feels good?” He questions, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you nod. He pecks your cheek again, before he’s using plain water to reach up and massage over your thighs. The movement doesn’t get you horny again, but moreso relaxed, and you lean your head back onto his shoulder while he looks after you.
A knock on the door snaps you both from your serene moment, and Jeongin lets out a noise of surprise. You protest agitatedly, but make a noise loud enough to let the other person know they can enter.
Chan pokes his head in, eyes soft but fond. “I’m just checking everything’s going okay. Omega, how are you feeling?”
“I’m good, Channie-”
“Hyung,” Jeongin grumbles, hands wrapping tightly around your middle. The strength of it makes you squeak, eyes widening comically. “Please go. Not right now.”
“Iyennie,” Chan begins firmly, but seems to falter at seeing the look in his eyes. He chuckles awkwardly, scratching his neck. “Are you sure? I can help, or-”
“Hyung,” Jeongin says, firmer, and when you manage to crane your neck to look at him his jaw is set in a deep line. He’s getting possessive, you realise, not wanting Chan to be involved in your heat this time around or be anywhere close to you when you’re relaxing. The realisation has you heating up again, even in the bathwater, and you reach a hand up to grip Jeongin’s wrist.
“I’ll set off,” Chan recognises, eyes flickering between you two. “Love you both.”
“Love you Channie,” You murmur, pussy throbbing between your legs where they’re splayed over Jeongin’s, and when the door shuts again he’s pouncing on you.
“Heat hitting again?” He questions casually, but the heavy breaths he’s letting out on your shoulder and the hard cock pressing against your back has you knowing he’s anything but casual. You nod in response, and he pulls you around by your waist, making you face him. The steam from the bath has caused his hair to be slightly damp, and you push it back from his features, taking in just how handsome he is - and he really is like this, all domestic and boyish for you. His bottom lip is a little pouty, and you kiss it chastely, before you’re reaching down to grip his cock.
“I gotta- next time, in your rut, let me,” You murmur against his mouth, still a little lucid despite the new wave of heat hitting. “I need to- to worship this cock, and suck it, and-”
“Fuck, omega,” He cuts you off, groaning, deep and gravelly. You pump his shaft a few times, but you’re too impatient, wiggling onto his lap further to let his cock press against your clit. It’s swollen and achy already, and with another moan Jeongin grips the base of his cock himself and guides it into your soppy hole. You’re still gaping a little from the previous time, but your lavender boy acts as if it’s the tightest hole he’s ever fucked into, a gasp leaving his lips. “Ah, there’s that pussy. I almost started missing it.”
You giggle breathlessly, forehead resting against his as you start to grind on his lap. The bathwater sloshes around you, some hitting the floor, but you can’t find it in you to care. His cock hits you deep like this, and you let out a sigh at the way his swollen cockhead presses against your g-spot. “I m-missed your cock already, alpha.”
“Yeah?” He muses, lips moving to messily kiss at your neck. “Ride it like you mean it then.”
You can’t help yourself. You start to bounce, and Jeongin’s lips latch onto your nipple immediately. He licks over the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, not caring who hears you over the sound of the rippling bathwater, and when he pulls away with a light bite of his teeth to your nipple it makes you gush fresh slick all over his cock, down to his balls. There’s still that interaction with Chan on your mind, though, and you have to ask about it.
“Innie,” You say, breathless, and he hums in response. The noise reverberates around your breast, where he remains with lips parted just above it, and you bounce a little harder in response. “Y-You didn’t want Channie to see me.”
Jeongin grabs your hips then, sharp and firm, and starts to thrust upwards. The movement really does make the water start to pour out of the side of the bath, and you move your fingers to dig into his shoulders for support. He smirks at you knowingly, and thrusts so hard it makes you jostle in his lap. “I didn’t want him to see us. You’re mine this time around.”
You wail, loud and incoherent, and you start to feel your head getting dizzy again. Your alpha looks after you, hand moving to your neck. You gasp when his grip tightens around the column of your throat. His hand holds you down onto his lap as he thrusts relentlessly into your pussy, wet and aching, and you can’t help the amount of slick flooding out of you.
“Do you like being mine? Just for a few days?” He questions, chest heaving, and you nod eagerly. You realise your fingernails must be scratching him, and when you look to his shoulders you can see the slightest bit of blood on his milky skin, but he seems more bothered about getting you to cum on his cock again. “Fuck- I can’t- baby, I can’t knot you in here, it’s not comfortable-”
“L-let me swallow it,” You whine, barely audible from his tight grip on your throat. He lets go of you then, but doesn’t stop thrusting into you, letting out a loud groan. “Alpha, alpha, let me swallow it, let me taste it, please-”
“I’m gonna cum soon, omega, I’m close, fucking- baby, cum, cum for me, please?” Jeongin’s eyes are glassy, his bottom lip covered in spit, and you whimper, nodding. Your fingers move to your clit, and you start to rub in the same rhythm he’s fucking you in, feverish and fast.
It doesn’t take long until you’re shaking through yet another orgasm given to you by your alpha, breathless noises leaving your lungs, and then he’s pulling out. Your pussy clenches with the loss, empty and upset, but he’s quick to scramble from under you and stand out of the bath.
He stands in front of you, stripping his cock, his knot just barely inflated at the base. “Suck the tip, just the tip, just the tip.”
You lean over pliantly, sucking his cockhead into your mouth, and he groans. His hand moves to your hair, pulling it back slightly, and when you look at him through your lashes he’s done for. He spills into your mouth, messy but not too much given that he didn’t knot you, and he groans through his orgasm until his cock starts to go soft. He pulls out of your mouth gingerly, and you lick your lips clean.
Even half hard, it’s still a spectacle, and you scrabble to try and get his cock into your mouth again. Jeongin only pushes you off playfully by your forehead, before he’s leaning down to kiss you, a lot more innocent than any of your prior kisses.
“Mm,” He moans against your lips, and then he’s kissing your forehead, nose and cheeks, all in a triangle. When you pull away, he’s grinning, eyes scrunched up in that silly little smile he does. “Shall we actually get clean now?”
You giggle, leaning backwards against the other edge of the bath. The bathwater sinks to your breasts, and you try to ignore the way his eyes falter down to them. “It might be a good idea. Get back in?”
“You’re a heathen,” He says, trying to be condescending, but that smile is still on his face. “We can’t fuck in here again. The bathwater will go cold, and I actually want us to get clean and have some food so that we don’t die. Sounds good?”
“I’ll try to keep my hands off you,” You smile, wide and toothy, and he points an accusing finger at you when you look down at his shaft again.
“Watch yourself, omega.”
“Yeah, like that’s not gonna get me turned on again,” You huff playfully, and Jeongin only tackles you into the bath and kisses your cheeks again. He leans his forehead against you, and you can see he’s blushing despite his playful front.
𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader
wc: 11.1k
cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment
synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.
a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re intrigued.
Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.
Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.
“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”
“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”
“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.
Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.
It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.
You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.
Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.
“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”
“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”
“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”
Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”
“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”
“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”
“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”
“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”
“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”
“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.
His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”
Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.
Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”
You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”
“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.
“It’s not a crush-”
“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.
“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”
Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.
The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.
A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.
It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?
The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.
Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.
The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-
A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.
“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”
“I-I-”
“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”
“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”
“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.
You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?
What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.
“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.
It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.
Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…
In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.
Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-
A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.
Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.
Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”
He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”
You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”
“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”
He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”
He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”
“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”
“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”
You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”
He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”
You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.
“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”
“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”
“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.
“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”
“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”
“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”
You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”
“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”
“I’m not telling you that-”
“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”
“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”
He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”
“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”
“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”
“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”
“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”
“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”
He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”
You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”
“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”
“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”
“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Can I know?”
He turns to you. “Know what?”
“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”
He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”
“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”
“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”
You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?
Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”
You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.
First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?
Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.
Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.
Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.
You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.
“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”
He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”
“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”
He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”
He gulps audibly. “Nope.”
“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”
“He, uh- really? Did he?”
“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”
Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”
“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.
Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.
“I knew it.”
He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.
“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”
“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”
He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”
You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.
“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”
“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.
“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”
You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.
“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”
“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”
You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.
“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”
He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”
“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”
Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.
You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.
“I- Jisung?!”
“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”
You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-
You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.
When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.
You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”
“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”
He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.
“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“
He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”
“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”
He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.
“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“
You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.
It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.
“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”
“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”
You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”
“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”
The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.
He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.
It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”
“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”
“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.
Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.
It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.
Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.
You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”
“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“
“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”
“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“
You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.
The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.
“You look fine.”
“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.
His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.
“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”
The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“
“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.
“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”
You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“
“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.
Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.
You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.
“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”
You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”
“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”
“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.
You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.
You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”
Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”
“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”
“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”
“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”
He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”
You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”
“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”
You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”
Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”
“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.
“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.
The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.
You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.
“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”
You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.
“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.
His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.
“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”
He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.
“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”
It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.
Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.
“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”
He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.
He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.
“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“
You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.
“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”
“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.
“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.
His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.
Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.
“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”
He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“
“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”
“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“
“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“
He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.
“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“
“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.
“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”
“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”
“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”
“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“
“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”
“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”
“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”
He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”
“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“
The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”
“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”
“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”
“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“
He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.
“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.
Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.
It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.
“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”
“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”
“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”
You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”
You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
i.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.
He’s beautiful.
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.
“Touché.”
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?”
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.
One hour later
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.
“You made them?”
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.”
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.
ii.
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose.
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?
Your facade cracks. His voice wins.
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.
One week later.
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.
"What’s wrong?" you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.
"Sowon?" you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
"Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—" He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel," you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
"Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?" you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
"Sure. Sure," he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
"Thank you," you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Someone's knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.
“Will she be okay?”
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”
“Can I read what you wrote?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?”
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”
“There are small lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing.
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.
You wished to be the only one Chris liked.
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.
iv.
You’re avoiding him.
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”
“Okay!”
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.
“What happened to connected Chris?”
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.
you win.
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later).
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.
It's her first time calling you mom.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.
୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic
“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.
“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”
He ignores you.
You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”
There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.
Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.
Look where you are now.
“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”
His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.
He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.
Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”
“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.
That wiped off the cocky demeanour.
“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”
He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.
“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.
“Yeah.”
You blink confused. “What?”
“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.
“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.
“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.
Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.
A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—
A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”
And that was your last straw.
The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.
That’s the more…reasonable explanation.
The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.
The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.
Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.
“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.
His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not really the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”
You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.
Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again and you hold your
The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.
If his next words are any indication. “Hey hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”
You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Question Choi Beomgyu. Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise, if you respected me, you wouldn’t have spread rumors about me.”
He huffs out a laugh, the bigger reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.
“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”
You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”
He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”
“But-"
“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.
“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”
You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?
“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”
His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”
You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”
He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”
He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”
A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”
You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.
This isn’t worth it.
You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be g-good for me pet.” He whines at that.
He doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair and suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.
“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”
He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.
You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.
When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.
Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would …surely guarantee your place in hell.
“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”
He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”
The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.
There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.
You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.
“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.
He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?
You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.
We’re over, bye.
I’ll go home now, don’t call me.
I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.
I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.
“Don’t leave me.”
…That has you snap out of your reverie.
His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.
You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.
“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”
You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"
Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."
You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.
But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”
Of course you give in.
୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏
༊*·˚ sigma kappa zeta's olympic level beer pong team
yang jeongin x reader x hwang hyunjin
summary: it's the last frat party before winter break and you, hyunjin and jeongin have a title to defend. who knows where it might lead (we do, it leads to the three of you smoking weed and fucking in jeongin's room)
word count: 7.2k words
author's note: this is truly, exactly what it says on the tin. because I love hyunjin and I love jeongin and I wanna have fun, giddy, sloppy high sex with them. happy new year babies! ily all!
warnings: drinking and recreational drug use (weed); threesome with mxm elements; protected sex (can you believe it?! wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); oral (m receiving); fingering (f receiving); cum on face; a little hint of dacryphilia; allusions to chan x reader
skzms' masterlist
The stench of alcohol assaults you as soon as the door to the frat house swings open, revealing some random guy with a half crumpled solo cup in his hands, his face flushed an uncomfortable shade of red. He stares at you stupidly until he finally seems to compute your questioning glance and steps aside, allowing you to walk in. For a brief moment, you halt, let your eyes wander across the room, scanning for any of your friends or anyone else you know for that matter, and the first person you see is Seungmin – cross-legged on the kitchen island, surveying the scene with a beer in his hand.
When he spots you, a slight smile graces his deadpan face, and he sends you a wave. He watches as you push your way through sweaty bodies, making dramatic grimaces whenever you get pressed a little too close to an inebriated stranger. When you finally reach him, he has one eyebrow raised in amusement.
“You’re as dramatic as always, but you’re also late and entirely too sober for this shitshow,” he observes, his soft voice just about reaching over the thump of the annoying electronic remix of some 2000s indie song. You sigh, making your way around the island towards the bottles and bottles of alcohol, checking them out slowly until you finally spot your favourite liquor in the back. There’s a good amount left, and you just take it, reaching for a random shot glass on the side and running it under running water before walking back over to Seungmin, pouring yourself a generous shot and downing it. The alcohol burns away some of the shitty day you just had, and you immediately pour yourself another shot.
“Don’t I know it,” you half-yell back, “I texted Ryujin at eight, and she already wasn’t replying. I knew I was in for it then.”
Seungmin just shakes his head and gestures into the huge living room.
“I present to you, the last party before Christmas break,” he deadpans, “one last chance for all of these degenerates to drink themselves into a stupor before they have to go home and play nice with family.”
You shrug and bring the second shot to your lips, downing it in one go.
“Can’t say I blame them.”
Seungmin gives you a questioning look, but before you can respond, two familiar strong arms wind around your waist and you laugh.
“You came!” Chan slurs into your ear. You immediately know he’s drunk by the way his lips catch on your ear, the way his heavy palm drags over your belly. Chan tends to become touchy and slightly desperate when he’s this drunk, and you wonder briefly if tonight will finally be the night that you end up falling into bed with him.
Seungmin seems to wonder the same thing as he calmly observes, gaze going from you to Chan, to his hand on your body. His eyes dart across the room, getting stuck on something, before they’re back on you and Chan.
“Hey Channie,” you purr out flirtily and exaggeratedly enough that you could plausibly still deny it, should the need arise later.
Nonetheless, you pour yourself another shot and down it, your head falling back against his shoulder and shocking a slight gasp out of him. When your eyes fall on Seungmin again, he’s giving you a judgemental glare. You stick your tongue out at him.
“Want me to get you a drink that is not straight shots of liquor?” Chan chuckles into your ear, his kind eyes flitting over your face, and the alcohol warming your veins makes the prospect of disappearing down the hallway with him later more and more inviting. You turn around in his grasp and are about to take him up on his offer, when a different, much more slender arm wraps around your shoulders and Hyunjin’s flowery perfume invades your senses. Only he could still smell like he just sauntered out of the world’s most expensive department store in the middle of a frat party.
“Sorry, hyung, but I am confiscating her,” he sing-songs, tipping his head until it’s resting against yours. You turn your head slightly to look at him, and his soft blond hair tickles against your cheek. God, he’s soft.
“Hey, I saw her first,” Chan retorts, a sweet little pout on his face as he crosses his arms.
“Technically, I saw her first,” Seungmin pipes up behind you, taking a sip of his beer, “but somehow I’m the only one not staking some weird claim on her.”
You send Seungmin another irritated glare, but he just shrugs now, a pleased look on his face.
“Innie and I have been challenged to a beer pong rematch by the Theta Xi Theta boys after we wiped the floor with them last week,” Hyunjin announces grandly, a competitive edge to his voice, “and if we don’t have Y/Nie, we don’t stand a chance.”
Hyunjin’s hand slides down your shoulder softly, ghosts over your arm until he can pluck Chan’s hand off your waist and replace it with his own.
“We did wipe the floor with them last weekend,” you muse with a hum, remembering the winning shot you took and the way Jeongin had scooped you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist easily …
Hyunjin turns his head, your faces now close enough that you can smell the toothpaste and gin tonic on his breath when he giggles.
“And we couldn’t have done it without you,” he grins down at you, his eyes at half-mast, “so if you’ll excuse us, gentlemen.”
And with that, he smoothly manoeuvres you past him until he can plant both his large hands on your waist as he guides you through the crowd. His hands are insistent, but gentle, and you’re happy to sink into it, his warmth against your back, his breath on your neck as he chatters about some gossip he heard about one of the Theta Xi Theta boys you’re about to play against.
“So, Jeongin and I agreed, we are not above bringing that up, should we be about to lose. Because the Sigma Kappa Zeta beer pong winning streak rests on our shoulders.”
You finally reach the beer pong table, where your opponents and Jeongin are already waiting, pouring more beer than strictly necessary into the 20 red solo cups. Hyunjin’s hands leave your waist, and you miss their weight immediately, but then Jeongin sees you and a blindingly pretty smile takes over his features as he stretches his arms out towards you.
“Now there’s no way we’ll lose,” he giggles happily as he envelops you into a hug, one hand wrapping securely around your head as he presses a kiss into your hair. You had never met anyone who hugged like Jeongin, especially not anyone who professed to hate skinship and hugged you like this.
Jeongin pulls back and presses a ping pong ball into your hand, wrapping your fingers around it and looking at you solemnly, closing his eyes as if he’s saying a prayer before he leans down and blows on your hand softly. You chuckle at just how much he looks and sounds like Hyunjin in that moment. But unlike Hyunjin, he can’t commit to the dramatics – his act drops, and then he’s giggling again.
“Now let’s win this thing.”
And God, it’s like the stars align because the music suddenly gets good, and the alcohol flows through your veins just right, and you can still smell Jeongin’s woodsy cologne on your shirt every time you move, and you’re fucking killing your opponents at beer pong.
It doesn’t take long before a considerable number of people have gathered around the beer pong table, which is half due to you how loud you, Jeongin and Hyunjin are being as you hype each other up and banter with the Theta Xi Theta boys and half due to Changbin, who has taken it upon himself to get up on a chair and provide game commentary. Even Seungmin has left his post on the kitchen island to come closer and watch.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Changbin yells at that moment, his voice a perfect imitation of a sports commentator, though considerably more slurred, “it is now Theta Xi Theta’s Soobin’s turn, an opportunity for him to turn around this game that is, entirely unsurprisingly, being won by Sigma Kappa Zeta’s own, Olympic level beer pong team, by a whopping 4 to 9.”
There’s a cheer that goes through the room, as Soobin lifts his arm and aims for the solo cups at your end of the table. He shoots, the ball hits the middle of the table and Jeongin lunges forward, trying to slap it away but misses by a hair and the ball drops into one of the cups in front of you. A loud oh rips through the crowd, and you grimace, shooting Soobin a joking glare, who just winks at you.
Hyunjin next to you curses and grabs two of your cups, handing you one and taking his own. You pluck out the ping pong ball and throw back the bitter, lukewarm liquid.
Hyunjin finishes his first, swallowing and licking his lips as he watches you drink yours, his eyes only a vague feeling on your face, until a thin rivulet of beer slips out of the corner of your mouth and soft fingers find your jaw, holding you in place as Hyunjin wipes away the excess of liquid. His eyes are focused on your lips, then your eyes, something deep and unreadable in them.
The breath you’ve been holding stutters out of your mouth in a disbelieving gasp when Hyunjin brings the same thumb that was just on your face to his own lips and runs his tongue over the pad of it with a bold smirk.
You know Jeongin is watching you, can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, but you can also feel the eyes of what feels like the entire room on you, so you quickly turn your burning face back to the table, shifting the ping pong ball in your hand. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself like you do right before a big presentation, throw the ball and … score perfectly.
The room erupts into cheers, and you giggle, turning to Hyunjin despite the nerves bubbling in your gut, and he only lifts a hand, offering you a high five that you gladly reciprocate. Maybe you made it all up. Maybe he just did it for fun and there were no implications.
But then a round passes and it’s your turn againand the score is now 2-7, after Jeongin scored another point and Theta Xi Theta didn’t.
Just as you steady yourself, you feel Hyunjin’s arms around your waist, his chin hooking over your shoulder, and your breath catches in your throat. Then Jeongin’s warm side sidles up to the other side of your body as he rests an arm on your other shoulder.
“Let’s go for a double, if we win with one it’ll hurt extra bad,” he mumbles into your ear. You turn your head and he’s right there. Beautiful, soft eyes flickering down to your lips, and you think your breathing stops entirely.
But he turns away again, your eyes running over the gentle slope of his profile, of his nose that suddenly looks like it would feel perfect pressing into your cheek. As if nothing happened, he takes a step back.
Hyunjin is still plastered to your back, solid chest rising and falling against your back.
“You got this,” Hyunjin whispers into your ear, breath shallow as he slowly, haltingly drags his nose across the skin of your neck. You chuckle out and shake your head.
“You’re being … very distracting,” you mumble and feel his chuckle against your hair before you take advantage of the high of the moment and the fact that Taehyun is distracted, flirting with someone in the crowd and throw the ball. It bounces on the tabletop, wobbles slightly, sails past an oblivious Taehyun, and lands right in the middle cup.
Changbin roars out a cheer and a dramatic declaration of their victory over the deafening applause of the crowd, but you don’t hear a thing because Hyunjin has picked you up around your middle with a cheer, your legs kicking out as you laugh, and then he puts you down and Jeongin is in front of you, cupping your face and giving you a brilliant smile before he wraps his arms around both of you. Your face is very suddenly very buried in the skin of his neck, his solid, strong chest rumbling with laughter as you feel Hyunjin press a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re lucky the ridiculous gasp you let out is muffled by Jeongin’s sweater.
Then Jeongin pulls back, presses a kiss to your cheek and, when Hyunjin peels himself away from you, presses one to his cheek as well and then all three of you are swept up by the other members of the frat who are cheering and herding you towards the kitchen for celebratory shots.
You lose sight of Hyunjin and Jeongin when Changbin wraps an arm around your shoulder.
“You,” he slurs into your ear and ruffles your hair, “you should be an honorary member of this frat. Screw it, from today onwards, you are.”
He raises his beer into the room.
“All in favour of making Y/N an honorary member of Sigma Kappa Zeta say ‘aye’,” he yells, and the whole room erupts into cheers, though you’re pretty sure 90% of the people cheering for your membership were just random students. Not like you care, not when even Seungmin walks past you and tugs you into a brief one-armed hug.
“I gotta say,” Changbin says, when Seungmin has disappeared again,
“I expected you to become that anyway, sooner rather than later. I was just waiting for Chan to finally grow a pair.”
You choke on the swig of beer you’ve just taken, and Changbin slaps his hand onto your back with a guffaw. Chan had always been flirty with you, but you never expected him to so serious about it. You briefly wonder if he had been in the crowd, witnessing Hyunjin’s hands lingering on your body, Jeongin’s lips on your cheek. Before you can feel too bad, you shake your head and glare at Changbin, placing a hard, knuckle-forward punch on his pec that makes him yelp and rub the spot with a pout.
“You can’t possibly be surprised,” he hisses with a playful pout. He opens his mouth, but then he seems to get distracted by something behind you, and he breaks out into a shit-eating grin, “but it looks like someone else grew one first. Or two others, in this case.”
And then he takes the opportune moment of someone yelling his name from the other side of the kitchen to duck away, just as two warm hands cover your eyes for just a second, before haltingly sliding down the sides of your throat, thumbs digging into your skin just slightly.
The person behind you giggles, and you can’t help the smile that spreads over your face in response to it. You’d know Jeongin’s laugh anywhere. He leans in, still smiling, dragging his nose through the hair behind your ear and inhaling softly. His lips brush the shell of your ear as his hands skate down your back.
“Wanna celebrate with us in my room?” Jeongin murmurs softly, velvety, and a shiver runs down your spine, “I still have some of the good weed.”
You just nod, and Jeongin presses a kiss to your shoulder and turns you around. His eyes are glued to yours when he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist effortlessly; just like the week before, though this time he lets it linger, his eyes glued to your lips, his chest pressed against yours like he wants you just as bad as you want him. He briefly puts you down on the counter, his palm sliding over your thigh as he leans dangerously close to you.
“I thought we were going to your room?” you breathe out teasingly, and this time, the smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a darkness in them as he licks his lips.
“Can’t blame a guy for getting a little bit weak when he feels everyone’s eyes on him as he takes the prettiest girl at the party to his room,” he mumbles, letting the tip of his nose brush your cheek before he hoists you back up and carries you through the kitchen to where Hyunjin is already waiting for you, his arms crossed as he leans against the door with a smirk. He slaps Jeongin’s ass as soon as he’s in reach, and you think you can hear some people in the kitchen wolf whistle when he turns to follow you out the door.
Jeongin silently carries you all the way to his room, Hyunjin trailing behind you, skipping and making faces at you that make you giggle and reach out for him. When the door closes behind you, Jeongin places you down on his bed gently, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth before he straightens out and walks over to his chest of drawers, rooting around in it. Hyunjin plops himself down onto the bed next to you, resting his arm behind you and leaning his body into yours, his eyes roaming over your face with a conspiratorial grin on his pretty lips.
“You still wanna smoke? I wasn’t lying about having the good shit,” Jeongin asks from across the room, adding a quiet aha! when he finally finds what he’s looking for, holding up a small, transparent bag of weed, before going back into the drawer to dig out rolling papers and a lighter. You force your eyes away from Hyunjin, who had been leaning in closer and closer, lips parted.
“You trying to get me high before you make a dirty move?” you ask with a grin, and Jeongin chuckles.
“Fuck no,” Hyunjin breathes out, “there’s no way I’m waiting until we’ve smoked.”
And then his hand finds your jaw, and he pulls you into his lips and holy shit, his lips are just as soft as they look, and now he smells like toothpaste, gin and tonic and beer and the top note of his perfume is definitely gardenia and your thinking stops when he gently pries your lips apart and slips his tongue over yours. Hyunjin runs his tongue over your teeth, and you sigh into his lips, a sound he swallows with a happy moan of his own, his arm slipping back around your waist as he pulls you closer. You hear the repeated flick of a lighter, and then the well-known, sticky smell of weed permeates the air.
You pull away from Hyunjin, who proceeds to press wet kisses to your cheeks and down your jaw. Your eyes catch on Jeongin, who’s sitting halfway across the dimly lit room, legs crossed in front of him, a perfectly rolled joint between his pretty lips.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he mumbles, a lazy, dazed grin on his face as he sucks on the joint. It glows briefly before he plucks it from his lips, breathing a steady stream of smoke towards the ceiling. He holds it out to you, and you grin at Hyunjin before you slip off the bed. You crawl over to Jeongin slowly, relishing in the way he watches your every movement, feeling Hyunjin’s eyes on your ass as he watches you go.
You take the joint from his outstretched hand and bring it to your lips, inhaling just as Hyunjin plops down across from you, looking blissfully happy. Your third hit of the joint is enough to make cotton candy bloom in your conscience, and you pass it to an eager Hyunjin, fingers brushing as he takes it from you. The music from the party in the living room still thumps through the wall when you feel Jeongin run a hand through your hair.
The touch feels nice, comforting, sends a tingle down your spine. Just like every one of Jeongin’s touches, it feels intentional, just for you. You let yourself lean into his hand, fluttering your eyes shut for a second before you blink them open again, catching his gaze. His pupils are blown, pretty fox eyes already at half-mast, but his gaze is intense, permeating, unwavering as he looks back at you.
Hyunjin sighs out dramatically next to you and takes a deep drag from the joint.
“Stop eyefucking each other and kiss already, geez,” he mumbles.
Jeongin scoffs out a laugh, giving Hyunjin a glare that is steeped in affection.
“Some people enjoy building sexual tension and don’t just jump people,” he teases, and Hyunjin sticks out his tongue at Jeongin.
“You didn’t mind when I jumped you that one night in the bathroom. And then again in the kitchen. And then at the next party and the next …”
Jeongin rolls his eyes, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips.
“Ah, so you two are hooking up,” you note, as you pluck the joint from Hyunjin’s fingers. Your and Jeongin’s moment has passed, though you don’t feel bad about it. Everything about this night feels … unhurried, casual, right.
“Wow, news really does travel fast,” Jeongin sighs and you chuckle.
“It does if you live in a frat, and you share a wall with Changbin.”
Jeongin rolls his eyes but Hyunjin just giggles, takes the joint from your hands again, takes a hit and then hands it to Jeongin and pulls you into his lap.
“Enough talking, if he won’t kiss you, I will, weed always makes me so fucking horny,” Hyunjin purrs, and you barely let him finish talking before you follow his momentum and lean in. Because weed also makes you fucking horny, and Hyunjin’s lips soothe the ache in you perfectly.
You pick up where you left off, his tongue dipping into your mouth without hesitation, his big hand slithering under your shirt, smoothing up the skin of your back. You thread your hands into his hair, pulling at the strands slightly, and Hyunjin rewards you with a melodic moan, his tongue sliding deeper into your mouth as his other hand smoothes up your thigh to your hip, pulling you until you can feel him rock hard in his jeans. Grinding against him, a shiver of pleasure racks up your spine.
You barely hear the movement next to you before Jeongin’s hand slides over the one you have buried in Hyunjin’s hair and drags Hyunjin away from your lips. Hyunjin pouts and narrows his eyes at Jeongin, and he looks like he’s about to bitch at Jeongin, when Jeongin presses his lips against his so suddenly that Hyunjin squeaks out, though before he can kiss back, Jeongin has pulled back and Hyunjin looks like he’s two seconds away from throwing a tantrum.
“Stop hogging her,” Jeongin just mumbles, his voice impossibly soft, before he turns to you, leaning into your space so suddenly your breath hitches in anticipation.
He rubs his nose against yours gently, letting out a soft breath and looking into your eyes for a few seconds, before he finally kisses you, only barely brushing lips over yours once, twice, like he’s testing the waters. He pulls back slightly to look at you again, and then he closes his eyes and leans in and kisses you for real, and you don’t know if it’s the weed, but Jeongin tastes like caramel and wet fucking dreams and miraculously, he, too, is a good kisser, just like Hyunjin, but very different. Where Hyunjin is languid movements that follow the flow of his wants, Jeongin is direct, specific, intentional. Like he’s always known how he has wanted this to go. It makes you want to take him by surprise, shatter all of his self-control.
At one particularly dirty lick into your mouth, Hyunjin gasps out next to you, his fingertips going back to dragging over the skin of your back as he leans in to press his lips to your neck.
“You two look so fucking good together, holy shit,” he mumbles into your skin, and the vibration sends goosebumps racing down your spine.
Jeongin just hums, smiling into your lips as he dips in lower, kissing you so deeply it makes arousal pool in your gut.
Hyunjin moves on to Jeongin’s neck, sinking his teeth into the junction between his shoulder and neck, making Jeongin gasp into your lips. Hyunjin soothes his tongue over the spot, kissing up further and further.
Your head is getting fuzzy, overwhelmed with the barely there noises Jeongin breathes into your mouth, Hyunjin grinding up into you at a lazy pace. You lift the hand that’s not resting on Hyunjin’s shoulder to Jeongin’s, and are met with the stiff material of his stupid fashionable blazer and his white shirt. You tug at it with a whine, and Jeongin chuckles, pulling away enough to shrug off the blazer. Hyunjin’s fingers beat you to the buttons on Jeongin’s shirt, so instead, you cup Jeongin’s face and pull him in again, taking him a little by surprise, his back arching into you ever so slightly.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathes from between you. “Off,” he orders Jeongin, who shrugs out of his dress shirt, allowing you to ogle the taut muscles of his shoulders, the slight swell of his pecs and thin hints of abs all over his torso. When you meet his eyes, he’s blushing.
“Why am I the only one getting undressed?” he asks with a cute little scrunch of his nose, and you chuckle, already feeling Hyunjin’s fingers glide under the hem of your shirt again. He looks at you questioningly and waits until you nod before he eagerly pulls it over your head. Hyunjin stares, shamelessly, but he’s distracted by Jeongin, who starts pressing dirty, open-mouthed kisses to Hyunjin’s lips as he shoves his leather jacket off his shoulders and tugs the black tank top out of the confines of his pants. He rucks it up Hyunjin’s body, parting from his lips only long enough to pull it over his head, and then his hands are all over Hyunjin’s bare skin.
They’re a vision together, Hyunjin stoned, uncoordinated putty in Jeongin’s big hands, moaning when Jeongin’s thumb brushes over his nipple, pulling him closer by his neck until he nearly loses his balance and tips backwards, taking Jeongin with him. But Jeongin, despite the weed, has enough wherewithal to pull back with a little chuckle, shushing Hyunjin’s unhappy whine with a kiss, before he gets up and plucks you off Hyunjin’s lap. He helps you up, pressing his lips against yours briefly before he places you on the bed and then does the same with Hyunjin, who lands next to you and immediately pulls you in for a messy kiss. Like a cat, he pulls your body against his, moaning when hot skin touches hot skin, before his fingertips dance up your spine and quickly undo the clasp of your bra, sliding it down your arms without breaking the kiss and attaching one of his hands to your tits with a moan. Jeongin’s chuckle barely reaches you through the haze of weed and of Hyunjin fucking everywhere on your body, on your lips, against your skin.
“We definitely shouldn’t have smoked, we’re just going to make out for 3 hours,” Jeongin teases from where he’s standing over you, toned arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest. You decide you’ve had enough of Jeongin’s composure, the need to see him fall apart burning deep in your gut, and you break the kiss with Hyunjin enough to reach for Jeongin’s hand, dragging him until he falls right between you and Hyunjin. The latter hums approvingly and immediately plasters himself against Jeongin’s back, kissing his bare shoulders as he grinds his hips right into Jeongin’s ass.
“What’s wrong with that?” you hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He already looks a lot less composed here between you, eyes glazing over as Hyunjin caresses and scratches and gropes at the expanse of his bare upper body, and you let a fingertip run over the outline of his hard cock in his jeans. It makes his hips twitch slightly, grinding into Hyunjin, who moans out behind him. When you lean in to press a kiss to Jeongin’s parted lips this time, he reacts so late your lips have already disappeared from his reach again, and he whines out quietly, desperately. But you can’t find it in him to deny him, kissing him again, and he rewards you with another pretty moan and a hand on your ass pulling you closer. It’s a hot mess, the way you’re making out so sloppily, half undressed, hands groping each other, nails digging into skin, and it feels so right and so fucking good, but you can’t help but want more. You let your nails rake down Jeongin’s bare chest all the way down to his abdomen, making him throw his head back with a choked groan.
His big hand doesn’t stop massaging your ass while you pop the button of his jeans and slip down the zipper. Hyunjin helps you shove down Jeongin’s pants and boxers, Jeongin’s hard cock out, in all its long, flushed, glory, and you can’t help but lick your lips at the prospect of feeling him inside of you. Hyunjin’s hands are now busy running all over Jeongin’s hips and ass and thighs, while you let one finger drag along Jeongin’s length.
“Fuck,” Jeongin gasps out, plush lips pretty and parted for you, and you lean into lick between them messily, before running your thumb over the head of his cock and he arches into you, only held in place by Hyunjin’s firm hands on his skin. You spit into your palm and wrap your hand around Jeongin’s cock loosely, and he fists his hand into your hair to drag you closer, pulling you into a bruising kiss while your hand builds a steady rhythm.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he moans against your lips, before throwing his head back with a whine.
His cock dribbles pre-cum into your hand, and you can hear Hyunjin groan out behind Jeongin. When you look up, he’s palming himself through his jeans, eyes glued to where you’re jerking Jeongin off slowly, though he looks up when he feels your eyes on him. It’s like he sees your twin desperation because within seconds, he’s getting up, shucking down his own pants and boxers until he’s bare in front of you (an occasion you take to ogle him in all of his tall, muscled, beauty, trimmed pubic hair and long, hard cock making your mouth water) and then he runs his hands down your belly and takes your pants off as well.
Hyunjin slots himself behind you, his hot skin now plastered against your bare back. You had briefly wondered why Jeongin was moaning so wantonly under Hyunjin’s hands earlier, but now you understand – because it takes everything in you to not let the pace of your hand falter, when Hyunjin’s hands now skate all over your body instead. There’s something about how they move, demandingly yet reverently, insistently, yet so honoured by the opportunity, it sets you on fire. Your impatience peaks and makes you arch your back to get closer to Hyunjin, tightening your fist on Jeongin’s cock and Jeongin moans out, just as Hyunjin’s fingers dance over your hips, down your belly, making their way to where you’re sure you’re dripping at this point. You swing one leg over Jeongin’s waist to give Hyunjin better access, and he takes the hint happily.
He groans into your neck when his fingertips swipe through your slick, and you moan into Jeongin’s mouth, making Jeongin’s cock twitch in your hand and it’s so much, Hyunjin’s hard cock pressed against your bare ass, grinding against you as he slides his long, strong fingers through your slick, your slick hand sliding over Jeongin’s pulsing cock, your tongues locked in a messy kiss. The cotton candy in your head makes it all melt together into a mess of heat and pleasure and affection, and it’s like the distant thump of music and the messy sounds of your arousal mixes with the moans of pleasure and create your new favourite symphony, one that’s just for the three of you, here, on Jeongin’s dark blue sheets, dipped into the dim light of the desk lamp and the moon shining through the window.
“Oh, fuck,” Hyunjin whimpers into your hair, a whiney edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before, “can I … can I put it in? Please, I could just slip in like this, just a little, …”
As if to prove it, he cants his hips forward, and you feel the head of his cock slide against you, head catching against your entrance so deliciously your hips twitch helplessly.
“Please, Hyunjin,” you manage to breathe out and then Hyunjin is scrambling off the bed, digging through Jeongin’s bedside table for condoms. He throws three on the bed close to you for good measure before ripping one open and sliding it onto himself as he makes his way back over to you. But instead of sidling back up to you, he grabs at your hips, tugging at you in silent question until you let him move you. Gently as ever, he manoeuvres you until you’re on all fours almost at the foot of the bed, hovering over Jeongin, one foot perched on the floor, the other on the mattress, promising an angle that makes anticipation bubble deep in your abdomen.
Hyunjin’s hands run over your ass and your lower back, mapping out your skin with his palms. He moans prettily when he spreads your ass cheeks, exposing you to him, not letting you feel an ounce of self-consciousness because immediately, he mumbles out a quiet “beautiful”.
Jeongin’s watching from underneath you, propped up on his arms so he can let his eyes roam over you and Hyunjin. His cock is lying against his abdomen, red and dribbling, and you lean down, placing a chaste kiss on the head of it, making him gasp underneath you. He tastes good, musky, and salty and hot, and your jaw aches with how badly you want him in your mouth. In lieu of telling him that, you poke out your tongue, rubbing it against the frenulum and watching as he shivers underneath you.
Hyunjin’s fingers find your entrance then, pushing in two without resistance, and you moan brokenly, the feeling so overwhelming that your arms almost give out, your forehead falling against Jeongin’s thigh. Hyunjin fucks his fingers in and out of you leisurely, the fulness making prickles of electricity run all over your hazy, stoned body, but the overwhelming need to have your mouth full prevails, so you lean forward until you can wrap your lips around the base of Jeongin’s cock, tonguing at it lazily, yet evidently enough because Jeongin moans out sweetly.
When you make eye contact, he gives you a questioning look, and you nod, and only then does he scoot back up on the bed, until his achingly hard cock is right underneath your achingly empty mouth.
“Can I fuck you, angel?” Hyunjin asks behind you, and you huff out a breathless laugh when he crooks the two fingers he has inside you up and against your g-spot.
“Fuck, of course,” you chuckle out, the fucked out smile on your face turned towards Jeongin, whose eyes darken, “I’ve been spread open for you for 10 minutes.”
Hyunjin curses and then his fingers disappear, before the head of his cock presses against your entrance.
“Well, I don’t know, you could’ve changed your mind, consent is important … oh my fucking god that’s tight.”
He takes his time, gently rocking deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out and Jeongin watches with wide eyes as Hyunjin throws his head back with a moan, just as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your back arches. His dick twitches underneath you, prompting you to lean down and suckle the head of it in between your lips. You dip your tongue into the slit just enough to taste a hint of him, and you ache for more yet Hyunjin isn’t moving. You pull off Jeongin’s cock and throw half a glance behind you.
“Hyune, you can move, you know,” you mumble and Hyunjin whines.
“I … I know, I just … needed a minute,” he pants out and you blink stupidly.
“Pussy that good?” you tease with a little chuckle, and you expect him to tease you back, but instead, Hyunjin pulls out slightly before he slides back in, so deep and perfect it punches a gasp out of you.
“Pussy’s so fucking good, angel, you have no fucking idea,” he groans, and then he does it again, pulling out and pushing back into you with a slow roll of his hips and he drags so perfectly against your walls that you shiver. He sets an agonisingly slow pace.
“Fuck, Hyune, your fucking cock,” you slur out and Hyunjin chuckles breathlessly, rolling into you again, faster and harder this time and your fuzzy, stoned mind goes out of focus even more, until you lock eyes with Jeongin, who has one hand wrapped around himself as he watches you, pupils blown to shit as he fists himself.
But you don’t want him to do that, not when your mouth is begging for something to fill it, your mind begging to be empty except for pleasure and them, only them. So you gently swat his hand away, ignoring his surprised gasp, and wrap your lips around his cock. The thick, heavy weight of it is so perfect, your eyes flutter shut as you sink down, down, down, soothing your tongue against the underside of it, drawing a choked moan from Jeongin’s chest.
Hyunjin’s fingers are digging into your hips so hard you know it will leave marks as he fucks into you deeply and urgently, and you let the momentum of it guide you up and down on Jeongin’s cock, one of your hands wrapped around the part of it that won’t fit easily, your tongue swirling around his head on every upstroke, and it’s perfect, with your mouth so messy, your pussy making lewd squelching sounds with every rock of Hyunjin’s cock inside of you, the sound of the bed rocking against the wall. But nothing is louder than the three of you, Hyunjin moaning like a porn star behind you, high-pitched ah ahs tumbling from his lips with every desperate thrust, Jeongin groaning headily as he tries his best not to buck up into your hot, wet mouth, your moans gratefully silenced by his cock because you know you sound debauched, the feeling of fulness so heady, the pleasure of it so fucking mind-blowing that you know the tears streaming from your eyes are not just from the intrusion of Jeongin’s cock in your throat.
As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s thumb swipes over your cheekbone, collecting the tears where they fall, and you look up at him. You think there’s a hint of concern there, and you try to shake your head at him as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, moaning when Hyunjin slides into you again and again, and he seems to understand, his head falling back and a string of pre-cum coating your taste buds when you sink deeper.
“I- I’m not gonna fucking last,” he curses out, and Hyunjin’s hips pick up even more speed, his hand snaking between you so he can rub at your clit fervently.
“You think you can cum with him?” He gasps into your ear, a desperate edge to his voice as his hips falter in their punishing pace, “that would be so fucking hot.”
You don’t reply, all too pre-occupied with the way your legs are starting to tremble with every swipe of Hyunjin’s fingers against your clit, your orgasm building so rapidly, tingling through your entire body, just as Jeongin’s fingers tighten in your hair, and he starts thrusting his hips up into your mouth so hard you see stars.
And then Hyunjin moans loudly, and it pushes you over the edge with a high-pitched wail, the margins of your vision whiting out as you cum around Hyunjin’s cock, the wet drag of it becoming audibly wetter, making him curse out behind you vaguely. You’re still cumming, aftershocks racing through your body when Jeongin thrusts up into your mouth once, twice more, and moans out wetly and cums. The spasming of his hips and Hyunjin’s brutal pace, chasing his own release, making his cock fall from your mouth and hot ropes of cum splutter over your chin, your lips, almost hitting your eye, and you can’t help but giggle breathlessly, bonelessly, which in turn makes you clench around Hyunjin even more, sending him over the edge with a surprised whimper as he shoves himself deep inside of you and unloads into the condom.
He collapses next to you as soon as he’s spent, a dramatic tangle of limbs hitting the mattress as you try to get up, your shaking legs almost buckling, making Jeongin shoot up from where he was still collapsed, wrapping his hands around your shoulder and guiding you to lie down next to Hyunjin, where you readily collapse with a small thank you. He disappears before reappearing again, his discarded shirt in his hands and he grimaces as he gently swipes it over your face.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, but you just smile and shake your head, patiently waiting for him to clean you up and throw the shirt somewhere on the floor before you pull him in for a kiss. It’s surprisingly sweet, feeling controlled, intentional again, now that the heat of the moment has passed. Hyunjin hums happily behind you and throws an arm around you, patiently waiting for Jeongin to break the kiss before claiming your lips with his, kissing you lazily. Jeongin collects your and Hyunjin’s underwear from the floor and makes sure to kiss Hyunjin, too, before he settles down on your other side, leaving you wedged in between them. It’s silent for a few beats before you sigh.
“Can’t believe I didn’t get to feel you, Jeonginnie” you mumble lazily, your voice still rough from all the use.
Hyunjin chuckles behind you, hand squeezing your waist where it’s resting. You tip your head back to look at Jeongin, who’s already looking at you, a soft but mischievous smile on his face.
“Next time?”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest and you smile back, your fingers threading with Hyunjin’s on your waist.
PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem!reader (ft. enha, winter from aespa, beomgyu from txt, and dino from svt)
GENRES ▸ social media au (smau), crack, fluff, stoner au, strangers to lovers
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual jokes, zero braincells, limited knowledge of the starbucks corporation, weed consumption, dumb shenanigans, ignore timestamps!
SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.
UPDATE SCHEDULE ▸ every day
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! i am alive (real) also i was so committed to the bit that i got high to make this <3 shoutout @hoonbear for the Extensive Starbucks Knowledge 🫡 i would also like to note that i am NOT doing a tag list for this smau. also please note that this is a fictional setting and to boycott starbucks in real life for firing their workers for their pro palestine speech
❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞
PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans
SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.
PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis
WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but
ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS.
That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives.
This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant.
After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.
Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.
No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down.
Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times.
Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.
“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.”
“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”
“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.”
“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?”
“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”
“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”
“Sure.”
“Have some faith in me, please.”
When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed.
But today would be different.
Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test.
Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense.
First question. Wrong.
Second question. Wrong.
Third question. Wrong.
What was happening?
By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again.
You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you.
Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road.
You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until—
You passed!
The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things.
Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time.
“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.”
“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.”
“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.
You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out.
Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend.
“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”
“No, Jun, I passed!”
His eyes went wide. “You did?!”
“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.”
“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.”
Your face fell.
You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too.
First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless.
“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”
“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.”
“How much are they?”
“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.”
“Total?”
“No, per lesson.”
“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!”
“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.”
You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.”
The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.”
Kwon Soonyoung.
Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.
His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist.
You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap.
When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.
soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house
Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.
After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord.
“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?”
Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap.
He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?”
When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat.
You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy.
“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence.
“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”
You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram.
“Ah, good. You know your stuff.”
Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble.
“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.”
He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense.
“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”
“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”
After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive.
You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet.
“Today would be nice,” he remarked.
“Uh, should I start now?”
“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”
“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”
“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”
The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once.
You sucked.
You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you.
“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”
You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car.
“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”
“Well, technically, they already have.”
“Not helping.”
He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?”
“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”
It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered.
For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke.
He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them.
Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play.
The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur.
Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving.
“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?”
Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted.
“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”
“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”
Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over?
“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”
You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung.
You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself.
There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with.
That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.
“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook.
The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?
“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”
You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you.
“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”
Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text.
Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.
soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room
soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time
Terrifying. But you were intrigued.
After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy.
Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously.
“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you.
The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you.
“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”
“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison.
“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”
“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said.
“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”
“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in.
“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.”
“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.”
Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”
You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward.
While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui.
y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor
y/n: wanna join?
jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in
y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no
jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back
y/n: it’ll take an hour tops
y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days
“Jun’s not coming,” you announced.
You heard a chorus of groans.
Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys.
After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform.
Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally.
The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss.
You were just amused at how quickly he switched up.
“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller.
You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”
“I’ll help you.”
You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing.
You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were.
You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign.
“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything.
Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him.
In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen.
“Oh,” was all you could say.
Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.
Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”
“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.
“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”
“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away.
The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight.
You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself.
You won.
Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”
“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”
But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm.
A little too warm.
You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.
Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing.
Brief interactions, but they were nice.
You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win.
Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.
You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)
“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”
He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.
You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.
“You just miss me, huh?” you joked.
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
Nothing could have prepared you for that response.
You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot.
You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends.
You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.
You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless.
It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was.
Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.
“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”
“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”
Possible Ways To Respond:
1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.”
2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?”
3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?”
You went with a secret fourth option.
“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”
True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day.
You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag.
“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish.
“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”
If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way.
But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?
Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”
“Hypothetically, you could.”
“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.”
“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”
“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”
You flushed hotly. “Right.”
The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once.
That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road.
Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw.
You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.
Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers.
“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere.
“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—”
“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—”
When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car.
He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?”
Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.
“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.
For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.
Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror.
The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now.
Your front left tooth was gone.
“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.”
Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.
“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!”
Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”
“Thoonyoung!”
Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him.
You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!”
“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.”
You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now.
“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?”
You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.
You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage.
Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.
Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“What about my tooth?”
“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”
You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it.
You started, “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”
With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder.
Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach.
Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop.
“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek.
Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth.
If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.
Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour.
It was really all thanks to Soonyoung.
The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life.
Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it.
It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.
Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery.
“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”
“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?”
“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”
“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”
“You need to stop.”
You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go.
You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air.
Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:
Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.
Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out.
Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.
Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.
The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.
“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”
“I’m the hall monitor.”
“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”
“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”
“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”
“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.”
With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused.
You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled.
“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.
Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for.
You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him.
Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”
“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”
“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?”
“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”
“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”
“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”
You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands.
“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled.
“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”
“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui.
Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself.
You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him.
You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night.
And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school.
Whatever. You had nothing to lose.
You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity.
y/n: date.
y/n: this week any day
soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!
y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day
soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready
Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.
To be a woman was to perform.
You were currently performing an illegal U-turn.
Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”
“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”
Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before.
Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.)
In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair.
What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.
Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?”
“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”
Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place.
The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his.
He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead.
You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of.
“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two.
You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”
You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.
Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”
Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel.
“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”
“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”
Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”
“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”
Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.
“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”
You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?
A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”
Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core.
Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying.
Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater.
Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably.
“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”
“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”
You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.
Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you.
When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone.
“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.
All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights.
You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again.
“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.
Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks.
When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds.
“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”
“I don’t want it to end, either.”
Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”
You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment.
You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.”
“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes.
For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down.
You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears.
But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing.
You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement.
Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode.
First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.
Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous.
Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder.
Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his.
He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”
“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?”
“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.”
You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight.
“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.”
“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”
“Tell me.”
Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched.
You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in.
“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”
Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions.
“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.
You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.”
“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest.
“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”
“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered.
“Hm?”
His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart.
You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.
The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license.
“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”
“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”
“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag.
“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly.
“Thanks, Officer Hong.”
“Don’t let me catch you two again.”
“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”
The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.
The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside.
His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously.
Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you.
“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”
Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental.
Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.
“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”
He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung.
He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes.
“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.
With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds.
A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants.
“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”
You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.
“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness.
“You’re still clothed,” you observed.
“Yes.”
“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”
You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.
Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants.
Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs.
He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers.
“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”
He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much.
But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin.
Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.
“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”
“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”
You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.
“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”
He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.
“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”
“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”
“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”
“One more,” he murmured.
“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”
He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”
“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”
“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”
Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.
Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.
With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.
As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”
“Please do,” you answered.
You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.
“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”
The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.
With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.
He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.
Hot.
Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall.
You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”
Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart.
“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”
You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself.
He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move.
Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek.
“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”
“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room.
“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?”
“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.”
Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.
It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together.
You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even.
Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate.
Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean.
You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about).
The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.
You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead.
“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.
“Are you busy?” you asked.
“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”
“I’m proud of you.”
“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”
“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”
“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”
“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”
“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”
Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”
“Even when you lost your tooth?”
You grimaced. “Even then.”
Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire.
“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave.
“Really?”
“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”
“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”
You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.
Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.
“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”
“Sounds good.”
“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”
“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”
“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!”
You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face.
“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth.
“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”
You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well.
After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass.
While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare.
“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window.
When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die.
The man you almost ran over was your examiner.
In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim.
Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?
You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”
“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”
“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”
“I was.”
You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead.
After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die).
“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.
You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of.
After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan.
“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were.
Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.”
Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood.
You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign.
Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now.
“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”
Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded.
“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”
You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either.
“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”
Your eyes grew wide.
You passed.
You passed.
You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”
“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”
For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him.
“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”
“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”
You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”
Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face.
Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”
You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.
He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”
“Soonyoung—”
“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”
“Soonyoung, I—”
“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”
“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”
His eyes widened. “You passed?!”
“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”
Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.
Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.
You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.
“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”
You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”
He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this.
“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”
You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders.
“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.”
“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”
“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes.
You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try.
So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 12.8k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)
hongjoong
pov: you're the king's royal courtesan
“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”
when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head
he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness
“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”
“i don’t,” he simply says
and it’s true
hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness
he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls
hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans
it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king
the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?
he never sees the same courtesan more than once
“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”
you smirk when he curses and throws his head back
his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low
“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”
he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck
you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status
part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer
you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you
lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services
it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another
whether the rumours about his stamina will be true
whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule
except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever
lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer
lady shin is not amused to say the least
with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead
and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for
(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)
(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)
your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed
you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”
“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts
you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching
“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”
for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too
“as if. fuck off”
your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation
“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour
when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you
hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you
he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you
hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants
when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”
“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back
he raises an eyebrow
oh yeah?
he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm
now that shuts you up
for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name
and another request turns into another
and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name
but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship
he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings
he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring
you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything
“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”
“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings
he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with
you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open
you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him
except, when you look up to see if he’s following?
his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you
“were you even paying attention?”
he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all
in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet
he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke
he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times
you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway
there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too
(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)
you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him
when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past
“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”
lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder
she laughs then asks to have a look
you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise
“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery
“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify
you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’
lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you
“it says, my flower”
you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later
lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her
“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”
this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you
you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan
and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall
my flower
you hesitate
“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”
lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her
the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now
you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet
(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)
you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway
and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand
it’s nice, basking in each others presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours
not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy
and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day
“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him
he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”
then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”
“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”
said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again
“no i’m not!”
“whatever you say,” you smirk
after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later
which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much
but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long
you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift
yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass
you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth
he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”
you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone
guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed
“do you trust me?” he whispers
trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”
you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift
you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air
and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing
“you can look now,” he tells you
you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect
it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus
and you gasp
there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon
“try it on,” he encourages
but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing
it’s patchy
it’s uneven
it has empty areas
but it is no doubt embroidery
“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you
“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”
“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”
you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing
he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him
upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”
you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”
he looks at you impossibly soft
under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core
you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers
it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue
so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth
you suck on them a little harder
a little deeper
and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”
he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches
“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall
“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”
he doesn’t need further encouragement
he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds
it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them
he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly
then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp
“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you
the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room
and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name
he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers
he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs
when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs
a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter
“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”
it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time
your mouth drops in disbelief
when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”
“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”
“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”
you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”
he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips
“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”
“very good plan,” you grind up against him
and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”
hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny
“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”
seonghwa
pov: you're his royal guard
as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away
you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety
one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear
they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear
from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits
seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though
unsurprising but still grating
the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside
albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left
it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen
the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see
“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks
“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile
you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map
on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt
you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch
because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention
but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either
so you strike in his stead
your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping
his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee
scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him
"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle
"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"
"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins
“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”
he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”
“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”
“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”
you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up
it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector
it has been almost four years since it happened
somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him
you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator
an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle
seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution
to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned
you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement
it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him
as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision
“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge
not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness
and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him
you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang
quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked
neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows
he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again
you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly
it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism
one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more
where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice
“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him
“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort
yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with
where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield
you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike
you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status
and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself
where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution
your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for
he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway
you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew
but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him
as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way
seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him
he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you
(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)
(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)
you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with
after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you
not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face
yes.
especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies
he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song
seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck
except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness
the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth
you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you
needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping
but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it
like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers
it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects
conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room
everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon
when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet
and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls
baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting
“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice
he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed
as if they are-
“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”
okay
most definitely proudly
you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger
“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to
“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”
“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else
that is more than enough for him, though
which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things
he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth
you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter
you wonder if his lips will taste the same…
but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind
because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow
how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?
so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship
you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation
seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together
it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart
he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of
and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…
in love with you
following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around
but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts
until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace
seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail
then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder
you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-
until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land
it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side
when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief
“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell
“i-”
taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”
“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer
“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”
for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing
seonghwa swallows
“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”
your throat tightens at his words
it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips
he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes
“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”
“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation
“because i’m in love with you”
right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response
“then that makes the two of us,” you confess
you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop
you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side
raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips
it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile
you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him
“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”
you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you
“does this mean i get to retire?”
yunho
pov: you're part of a rebel group
the crown prince is not in his fucking library
for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night
until today
under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing
except doing that would make your job significantly harder…
considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.
you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch
following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash
a leash made of barbed wire
people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline
although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s
within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters
the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination
dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners
and you are amongst the elite team
which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince
except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong
which never happens
you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine
he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards
you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave
only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof
their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same
you run
you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room
when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs
this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long
if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards
so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower
keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump
you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees
then you wait
he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground
“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm
you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”
now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-
wait
even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same
the same as those on the elite team
“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions
except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build
being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours
he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet
when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”
we
he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team
you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him
“when is red most beautiful?”
it is a vague question with a fixed answer
one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself
during the sunrise of a new beginning
“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely
the tension releases from your shoulders
“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”
the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease
you both flip over the top and land in unison
the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest
the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols
you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps
and then you hear it
the shattering clang of a desperate parry
all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut
you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords
bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you
several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury
it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you
and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate
you have the element of surprise
but only for the next few seconds
you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing
there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed
you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them
except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away
the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive
but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them
you.
you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword
the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness
in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam
you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand
but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling
“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder
you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground
you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries
there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse
which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks
how did he know about the attack in the first place?
you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him
except…the man has disappeared
and so has the intruder’s body
days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library
you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise
this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line
you spot him
he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments
you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer
you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles
and there the crown prince stands
he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy
mercy that you have no intention of showing him
the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none
“it’s you again, isn’t it?”
you freeze
the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you
“you were here a few days ago”
fuck
how he knows you have no idea
what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well
the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy
“you are part of red sun, are you not?”
this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel
it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does
what the actual fuck
you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy
“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”
his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”
“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff
but then his next words change everything
“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”
before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince
“hide,” he hisses urgently
and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible
you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf
“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say
from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”
“of course, crown prince yunho”
even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice
they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”
“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”
“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”
yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them
is this the same crown prince as the rumours?
and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?
you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face
he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility
“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask
your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you
but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level
“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”
your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor
because how is any of this possible?
you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you
it makes you feel so strange
the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier
yunho starts to explain
a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people
thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined
in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning
a new leadership
except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked
“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”
he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”
yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained
he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence
“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry
yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”
you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look
yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-
“a suicide pill?”
you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing
the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like
you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves
but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb
it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar
yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given
whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well
there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho
but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends
you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence
except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle
other times he is the one trying to fluster you
“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”
“i was taking the pill out to show you!”
you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap
“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”
he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”
other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on
“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes
and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly
“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”
you swallow hard
you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up
“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side
you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee
and eventually, you two have a breakthrough
yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine
in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’
“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs
you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder
pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two
they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious
“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”
you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea
he doesn’t - not at first
not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image
“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”
the king’s butler?
lee?
your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours
“lee minjun”
you sink back in your seat
there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved
the question of why and what for remains
in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too
there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future
yunho breaks the silence first
“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”
after this all ends
you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too
you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne
the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon
the new beginning is close
and at that, something in you relaxes
crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief
“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”
and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once
ironically, yunho chokes on air
you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes
you think your eyes are deceiving you because-
the tips of his ears are a glowing red
you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess
the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”
“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles
“and why is that?” you humour him
he finally looks at you
and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours
“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”
yeosang
pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him
ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang
it just made sense
for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies
it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding
so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love
and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned
if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang
he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room
he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard
they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger
you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”
if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now
you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy
if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid
stupidly in love
because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince
unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing
it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world
but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written
the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace
it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage
you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter
whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words
whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him
two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom
and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter
your whole life you have been able to wait patiently
you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity
the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace
even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him
nothing can bring you down from cloud nine
only…the letter never comes
not the day after, not the week after, not the month after
you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up
you send him another letter, and then another, and another
sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said
other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears
and you also wonder about him
you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are
with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits
you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply
until-
you do.
it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile
with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded
your mind races with anticipated words and explanations
perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier
or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit
you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-
stop sending me letters.
and just like that, the clock strikes twelve
your carriage reverts into a pumpkin
and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes
you don’t write to him again.
years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them
they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son
now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife
really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can
you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed
she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”
“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”
you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you
“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully
“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”
you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”
“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals
caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before
you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless
later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”
before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff
there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway
heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning
the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting
you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again
if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish
“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”
when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none
“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”
you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”
“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”
oh?
flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself
because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?
first the vase, and now this
you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud
your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much
when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky
you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up
you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions
and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-
“are you okay?”
yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door
he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”
thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind
you start with half truths
“just missing my little brother”
“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”
you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon
it implies he’s noticed you
“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod
something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name
you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently
“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”
“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth
“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”
it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b
yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes
when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly
“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”
you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”
“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”
it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky
“yeah, that’s okay”
you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance
it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences
you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him
the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters
because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up
as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore
“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice
yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open
and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says
“you wrote me letters?”
your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception
“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”
“impossible. i never got your letters”
your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”
“wait,” he interrupts
yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”
upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp
it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar
“not the seal, no”
he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”
you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment
“but then-”
but then who wrote the letter?
and where did all your letters go?
the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju
a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile
no, not a smile, you realise
a smirk
you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness
yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful
“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him
it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately
“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”
“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”
he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers
“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly
then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought
he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”
he turns around to reveal of bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously
“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around
“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands
and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”
yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers
you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know
🔮 preview. when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night… and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”
cw/ tw. 3some, dom/gamer/alt Wonwoo, Switch Mingyu, choking, spanking, handcuffs, slight pain kink, toys, vibrator, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, some overstim, nipple play, finger sucking, sex without condoms, some degradation, shower sex, multiple rounds, marking, jealousy, size kink, etc… I pet names. kitten, lazy bones, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 16.6
🍭 aus.frat au, roommates/friends to lovers, fake dating, non idol au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. Anteric meaning: pertaining to a revenge against a former lover, a lover that betrays - this fic has been edited/updated as of dec 2022 with minor grammar changes and an optional bonus extension accessible through patreon :)
Prologue
You collapse into the red, fold up, camping chair. Your fingers immediately go to pick at the burn mark on the right arm where Hoshi had let a marshmallow, that was lit on fire at the time, fall onto the fabric when you’d all camped out in the woods behind the frat after a semi formal last year for a reason you can’t quite remember now. “I broke up with Seungcheol.”
“Then you need this more than we do.” Wonwoo’s smooth voice calms down your heart slightly, a reminder that although you’ve just made a huge change in your life, your friends are a constant. The frat boy holds out a bottle of Captain Morgans’ that makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust, pushing his hand back immediately.
“How can you two even drink that shit?” you groan, looking between Wonwoo and Mingyu, who’s lounging half slumped in his chair, head tilted back on the neck rest so he can look up at the stars above their frat house on the edge of campus. It’s a clear night, and when you sneak a glance up, you’re distracted by the moon.
“Chase,” Mingyu responds honestly, drawing your attention from the sky when a long arm extends the coke he’s been drinking out to you. His other hand twiddles with a lollipop he’s sucking on diligently in his mouth, and moonlight shows off the sloppiness of his tongue on the hard candy, twirling this way and that.
