✮⋆˙

⭒˚⋆ nerdsung cultist . ݁₊ ⊹

[linophobic]

⋆ gab ⋆ she/they ⋆ '97 ⋆ ⋆ 18+ content usually, minors dni ⋆ skz dedicated blog ⋆ mh/hj biased ⋆ mainly write js ⋆ ⋆ ao3 ⋆

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 requests are open but i am slow⋆｡°✩

⋆.˚ ☾ asks and anons are welcome (but be kind) ⭒.˚

.⋆ 𖥔 ݁ ˖₊‧. masterlist ⭒.‧₊˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ .

[hanjinology]

drabble — jisung loves it when he learned something new about you, and uses it for his own advantage

Han Jisung had noticed it weeks ago.

Every time he buried himself deep inside you, your eyes would drift up from his face to the thin silver chain around his neck. The small pendant, a sleek, smooth obsidian teardrop would swing with every brutal thrust, catching the low light of your bedroom and drawing your gaze like a magnet. Your lips would part, breath hitching, pupils blown wide as you followed its rhythmic dance above you. It was almost like the pendant hypnotized you, pulling your focus even as pleasure wrecked your body.

Tonight, he decided to test just how much power it held.

He had you on your back, thighs spread wide around his hips, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your walls flutter around him. Sweat glistened on his collarbones. His hips rolled steadily, cock dragging against your walls with every thrust. You moaned, nails digging into his back, but something felt… off.

Your forehead creased in confusion. Your eyes flicked up to his neck, searching. No chain. No pendant. Just smooth, sweat-slick skin and the rapid flutter of his pulse. There was nothing for your gaze to latch onto, nothing to follow, nothing to hypnotize you. Your mind started to wander even as pleasure pulsed through your body. You tried to focus on his face, his dark eyes, his parted lips—but your attention kept drifting back to that empty space where the necklace usually swayed.

Jisung smirked, noticing immediately.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, voice laced with teasing as he rolled his hips, grinding against that sweet spot inside you. “You look so distracted tonight.”

You bit your lip, trying to stay focused, but another deep thrust made your eyes flutter. Still, your forehead stayed creased. The pleasure was there, intense and building, but it felt… incomplete. Your mind wouldn’t settle.

He kept going, fucking you with steady, punishing strokes, never reaching for the necklace. Minutes passed. Your breathing grew more erratic, not just from the pleasure, but from the strange restlessness in your head. You couldn’t sink fully into it. Couldn’t let go.

Jisung leaned down, lips brushing your ear as he drove into you harder.

“You’re clenching around me so tight, but your eyes keep wandering. Can’t stop looking for it, huh?”

You whimpered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He was enjoying this too much. Another particularly deep thrust made you moan loudly, but your mind was still fractured, searching for that missing anchor.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ji…” you gasped out, voice shaky and needy between moans. “Where’s your necklace? Please… put it on.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your voice sounded embarrassingly desperate, even to your own ears. Jisung’s hips stuttered for a second, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“There it is,” he chuckled darkly, sounding satisfied. “My greedy girl finally admitted it.”

He slowed his thrusts just enough to reach over to the nightstand, grabbing the silver chain. He slipped it around his neck, letting the smooth obsidian pendant settle against his chest. The moment it appeared, your eyes locked onto it like a magnet. The crease in your forehead instantly smoothed out, replaced by that glassy, hypnotized look he loved so much.

“Fuck… there you go,” he groaned, feeling your pussy flutter hard around his cock the second your gaze found the pendant. “That’s what you needed, wasn’t it?”

He started moving again, building back up to a relentless rhythm. The pendant began to swing above you with every powerful thrust, back and forth, catching the light. Your eyes followed it obsessively, pupils blown wide, mind finally quieting as pleasure flooded every nerve.

Jisung gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he pounded into you.

“Open,” he ordered.You parted your lips instantly. He leaned forward, letting the warm pendant rest on your tongue. Your mouth closed around it, sucking eagerly as he fucked you even harder. The chain tugged against his neck with every brutal snap of his hips, the pendant shifting between your lips in perfect sync with his cock driving deep inside you.

“That’s my good girl,” he growled, voice rough with arousal. “Sucking on it so desperately after pretending you didn’t need it. So fucking hypnotized now, aren’t you?”

Your moans came out muffled and wet around the pendant as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. The relentless rhythm, the thick stretch of his cock, and the warm weight on your tongue completely overwhelmed you.

Jisung’s hand slid up to hold your jaw gently as he railed you. “Cum for me while you’re sucking on it, baby. Let me feel how much better it is when you have this.”

Your orgasm slammed into you hard, body shaking violently as your walls pulsed around him. Jisung groaned loudly, burying himself deep and spilling inside you as he rode out both your highs, the pendant still trapped between your eager lips.

When he finally pulled back, the glistening pendant slipped from your mouth with a wet pop. He looked down at your blissed-out face with a proud, predatory smile.

permanent taglist: @hime-honne, @dxllyhorror, @thepoeticpurplepotato, @verslyns, @channlust, @leewayout, @zosauce, @kloversung, @1-aria-1, @vxyselectric, @urfavleobiscuit, @written-by-music, @fanficwriter5, @minniebitesfr, @pedropacals0l0s, @iheartkentonanami, @ncityswrld, @danielle143, @persassyismysecrettwin, @trisha-dear, @pineapple-burgah, @luv4innie, @bunbunbl0gs, @marlboropuffs, @morgangrice18, @33peach33, @peskybirdysya, @ogerontheside4, @theyknowagus, @zerefdragn33l, @melodyladean, @ebnabi, @emeraldgem22, @fweakygyatt, @taekwondoe, @sue-reads, @shinygubbins, @lilmissfergy, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo, @hwang97janet,

all rights reserved © 2026 sitri. none of my works shall be produced or reproduced in any form without consent and proper asking.

[channlust]

you got me thinkin' nonsense!

or: you don't believe that spiderman is real. who would believe that a masked vigilante just popped out of nowhere, started shooting webs and swinging through Seoul saving people, in spandex?? and most of all, you wouldn't believe that said "spiderman" would have any correlation with han jisung, that's just a load of nonsense!

in other words..: look, in jisung's defense, he didnt mean to get bit by a genetically modified spider. but he did, so now he's stuck with the superhuman side effects, a superhero persona, and his roommates constantly covering for him. and hey, he doesn't mind a sprinkle of chaos into his life. he's actually glad he got this alter ego, a version of himself that does good for other people, y'know...saving the city, and one that he can maybe impress you with, since his original self is stuck being your academic rival that you can't stand even if you were paid.

warnings: academicrival!jisung x reader, college au, nerdsung + nerd!reader, slowburn, eventual smut (not in this chapter), 3racha as roommates, Yunjin as your bsf and roommate, references from multiple spiderman movies, innuendos, profanity, college slop, caffeine slop, group project slop, party slop, talks of biotech and robotics that are probably false (research was poorly done), some action scenes, some injuries and blood loss (not in this chapter), reader is an academic weapon and doesn't catch a break, cameos of other members, crack, fluff, banter, no angst at all because Im sensitive, probably a heck ton of typos.

wc: 14k

part ll

98%.

The number glared up at you from the paper.

it's a good grade, objectively a great one. but there had to be a mistake - you’d stayed up three nights straight reviewing every possible permutation of the material. Your notes had been immaculate. You’d even rewritten them twice just to be sure.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat. you braced yourself for whatever annoying thing Jisung was about to say.

"Oof," Jisung said, leaning over your shoulder. "Ninety eight? I mean, close enough."

His own test fluttered into your peripheral vision, 100%. Of course.

"Better luck next time," he added. His voice was light, teasing - a tone he’d used since freshman year whenever he edged you out by fractions of a point.

You exhaled through your nose, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you shoved your test into your bag, zipping it shut.

Jisung didn’t take the hint. He never did. He propped his hip against your desk, grinning as he watched you pack up.

"Don’t worry," Jisung continued, "I’ll let you copy my notes next time."

You finally looked up at him - his stupidly perfect face, his stupidly smug grin, stupidly big framed glasses.

"Like hell I’d copy your chicken scratch," you muttered, shoving your chair back harder than necessary. making its legs screech against the floor.

Jisung’s grin widened. "y'know, if you actually got enough sleep instead of staying up all night-"

You stood up and stomped on his foot, hard.

He yelped, hopping backward with exaggerated agony. "Ow! What was that for?"

You didn’t dignify him with an answer. You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked off without a backward glance.

Behind you, Jisung’s dramatic whining faded into the background noise of the lecture hall, punctuated by a burst of laughter from somewhere near the exit. You didn’t need to look to know it was Changbin, doubled over with amusement while Chan stood beside him, hand resting on the strap of his bag, waiting patiently.

The three of them had been inseparable since their second year of high school, when Chan, already broad shouldered and responsible beyond his years, had stepped between a scrawny, loudmouthed Jisung who'd just learned curse words and a group of seniors looking for an easy target.

Changbin, who’d been watching the confrontation from a nearby bench, had tossed a water bottle at the ringleader’s head mid threat. The resulting chaos had somehow ended with all three of them in detention, and that was where their friendship formed.

By graduation, the three of them had already cemented their fate - Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were a package deal, an inseparable trio that had somehow survived four years of high school without murdering each other.

So when university acceptance letters rolled in, the decision was already made, they’d stick together, signing a lease for a cramped apartment near campus before the ink on their diplomas had even dried.

And then there was you.

Orientation week had been the beginning of it all, though you hadn’t realized it at the time.

You hadn’t noticed Jisung at first during orientation. Not really. He’d been just another face in the crowd, another overeager freshman with bad posture and a laugh too loud.

as for him though, he had a stupid, undeniable crush on you.

he tried to talk to you, you’d been too busy rearranging your schedule to register his existence - some mumbled joke about the professor’s hair that you’d brushed off with a polite smile before walking away.

Another time, still during orientation, he’d lingered near your seat after the icebreaker games, hovering like he expected you to acknowledge him. You hadn’t.

What had caught your attention was the first exam. You’d walked out of that lecture hall certain you’d aced it, only to find your name one spot below his on the results board.

he'd realized then that you're probably a perfectionist, and that you did not like being in second place. you never were in second place, ever since high school.

he became your competition from then.

Jisung noticed the shift immediately. He could’ve backed off. He didn’t. Instead, he leaned into it.

It wasn’t that he wanted you to hate him. He just wanted you to look at him.

Don't get him wrong, he did try to befriend you, but when that ended in inevitable failure, he opted for his last option, the one thing guaranteed to make you react, relentless, obnoxious teasing. If you couldn’t stand him, at least you’d notice him.

It worked better than he’d expected.

three years later, and Han Jisung was still the single most irritating person you'd ever met.

~

The sound of the apartment door jolted Jisung awake. He blinked at the ceiling, groggy and disoriented, sunlight already painting stripes across his unmade bed.

His phone lay facedown on the floor where he’d tossed it last night. He fumbled for it, thumb smearing against the screen as he squinted at the time, 9:47 AM.

"Shit."

Jisung groaned, rubbing his face with both hands as the pieces clicked together - his snoozed alarm, the muffled knocking he'd sleepily batted away earlier, Chan had tried. Chan had definitely tried to wake him up.

Jisung rolled out of bed, scrambling upright, one hand already tugging his hoodie over his head while the other fumbled for his backpack.

He was not gonna be that late if he decided to take a short cut. And so he did.

Cutting through the science building was a gamble, technically off limits to non majors before noon, but Jisung had long since memorized the janitor’s schedule.

He ducked under a half raised security gate, sidestepping a cart of lab equipment as he beelined for the west exit. His footsteps echoed too loudly in the empty hallway, but he didn’t slow down - not until a sharp clang from an adjacent lab made him skid to a halt.

Jisung turned his head just in time to see a door marked 'BIOTECH RESEARCH - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' swing shut, the tail end of a lab coat disappearing behind it.

He hesitated for half a second, before the distant chime of the campus clock tower rang. He was so late.

Jisung shouldn’t have been there.

The lock mechanism whirred as he hovered near the entrance, the distant hum of machinery inside prickling at his ears. Curiosity had always been his fatal flaw.

He glanced over his shoulder. The hallway was empty.

The door hissed open with a nudge of his shoulder, just wide enough for him to slip through. The lab was a maze of steel tables and humming equipment, bathed in the sterile glow of overhead LEDs.

Glass tanks lined the far wall, their murky contents swirling with movement - something skittered behind the frosted glass, too fast to track. spiders.

"Cool," he muttered, stepping further inside.

Jisung's fingers hovered over the nearest microscope, its lens gleaming under the lab lights. The surface was cool to the touch. Before he could explore more, a sharp click from the far end of the room froze him mid reach. His breath hitched. The sound wasn't mechanical. It was footsteps.

He ducked behind a lab bench, his knee connecting painfully with a drawer handle. He bit his tongue to keep from swearing.

Through the gap between two beakers, he could just make out the silhouette of a researcher - tall, white coated, absorbed in a clipboard. The man moved methodically down the row of specimens, pausing occasionally to adjust dials or scribble notes.

When the researcher turned toward a computer terminal, Jisung seized his chance. He crab walked backward, keeping low, until his shoulder bumped into something decidedly not a lab table. it was one of the glass tanks from earlier.

The container wobbled. He lunged to steady the glass before it could shatter and give away his presence that was not allowed in this lab, but his palm slipped against the condensation slick surface. The lid shifted with a silent clink.

A spider the size of a quarter dropped onto his wrist.

Jisung's entire body locked up. The spider's legs were needle thin, its body an unnatural shade of iridescent blue that shimmered under the lab lights.

For a suspended second, neither of them moved - Jisung paralyzed by instinctive revulsion, the spider crouched like a coiled spring. Then it bit him.

The pain was sharp and sudden, Jisung clamped his free hand over his mouth to smother the yelp threatening to escape. The researcher's footsteps paused.

"Who's there?"

Jisung froze. His wrist burned where the spider's fangs had pierced his skin, the pain radiating up his arm in slow, crawling waves.

The spider twitched between his fingers, its iridescent body pulsing unnaturally as he pinched it. For a split second, he considered tossing it aside - but the memory of its bite made his stomach twist.

Without thinking, he squished it between his finger, killing it.

Jisung grimaced, wiping his hand against his pants as the researcher's footsteps grew louder. He ducked lower behind the lab bench. A clipboard clattered onto the table above him, followed by the metallic click of a pen. The researcher muttered something under his breath - numbers, maybe, or measurements - before his shoes squeaked against the floor, turning away.

Jisung exhaled silently through his nose. His wrist throbbed. The bite mark was already red, the skin around it blotchy and hot to the touch. He flexed his fingers experimentally, half expecting his hand to lock up, but aside from the sting, nothing seemed immediately wrong.

The researcher's footsteps faded toward the far end of the lab. Jisung waited ten seconds before risking a glance over the edge of the bench. The man's back was turned, his attention fixed on a row of specimen jars. Jisung didn't wait. He walked backward until his shoulders hit the wall, then slid along it toward the door, keeping low.

The door clicked open just enough for him to slip through. He didn't look back.

The hallway was still empty. Jisung broke into a sprint, rounding the corner just as the lab door groaned shut behind him.

By the time he burst through the science building's side exit, the pain in his wrist had dulled to a steady ache. The sunlight hit his face, momentarily blinding him. He blinked, disoriented, before his phone buzzed violently in his pocket.

Changbin's name flashed across the screen.

Jisung fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it as Changbin's second call lit up the screen. He swiped to answer just as a cyclist swerved around him, yelling something unflattering about his lack of spatial awareness.

"Where the hell are you?" Changbin's voice crackled through the speaker.

He rolled his wrist experimentally, half expecting a jolt of pain, but only a dull ache remained. strange, but not alarming enough to mention.

"Chill, I'm literally two minutes away," Jisung huffed into the phone, sidestepping a group of freshmen clustered around a campus map.

Jisung skidded to a halt outside the lecture hall, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he yanked the door open. Twenty pairs of eyes swiveled toward him - including yours, narrowed with undisguised irritation from the front row.

The professor paused mid sentence, her laser pointer flickering against the projection screen.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Han," she said dryly.

Jisung flashed her a grin "Traffic was brutal."

The professor arched an eyebrow. "You live on campus."

"Exactly."

Jisung collapsed into the empty seat next to you with a sigh. Conveniently, there were no other free seats.

The professor resumed her lecture, but Jisung wasn't listening. His fingers drummed restlessly against the desk, his knee bouncing so fast it blurred. You gritted your teeth.

"Would you stop?" you hissed under your breath, jabbing your pen toward his twitching leg.

Jisung blinked at you like he'd forgotten you were there. "Stop what?"

"That." You gestured pointedly at his knee, "You're shaking the entire row."

He glanced down, as if surprised by his own body. "Huh."

Jisung blinked again, his fingers stilling mid tap against the desk. "Oh. Sorry."

He stopped. His knee went still. His fingers curled into a loose fist against the desk. Even his breathing seemed to slow, like he was consciously holding himself in check.

The professor's lecture droned on, but you couldn't focus. Your peripheral vision kept catching on Jisung's unnaturally still form.

Then he sneezed.

The sound was sharp, explosive, and entirely too loud for the lecture hall. Half the class jumped. The professor paused mid sentence, her laser pointer flickering off the screen. Jisung sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

"Bless you," you muttered automatically.

Jisung turned his head so fast you heard his neck crack. "Thanks," he whispered back. His voice was hoarse, like he'd been yelling earlier - though you couldn't remember hearing him speak at all today.

The strangeness of it prickled at your neck. Jisung didn't whisper. He didn't apologize. And he certainly didn't stop fidgeting for twenty straight minutes.

weird

~

after lectures, you were supposed to be studying.

Keyword: supposed.

Currently, your textbook lay abandoned as Yunjin scrolled through her phone, legs kicked up onto the library table in direct violation of at least three campus rules.

"I swear to god," she muttered, stabbing her screen, "if Professor Kang assigns one more reading—" she cut herself off with a sigh.

"I'll drop out," Yunjin announced, tossing her phone onto the table. "I'll move to a remote island. Raise goats. Never think about electron configurations again."

You snorted, flipping a page in your textbook without absorbing a single word. "You'd cry over the first goat that liked someone else better."

"Excuse you, I'm extremely likable-" Yunjin's protest cut off mid-sentence as she caught you glancing sideways for the third time in five minutes.

"Ohhhh. That's why you're failing to absorb basic chemistry. Distracted by your archnemesis over there."

You stiffened. "I don't know what you're—"

"Han Jisung," Yunjin sing songed, nodding toward the table where Jisung was slumped over a pile of notebooks, dead asleep.

His cheek was pressed against an open textbook, one arm dangling off the edge of the table, the side of his wrist adorned with what looked like a nasty bruise. A thin line of drool connected his mouth to a page. "You were staring at that."

"I was not staring," you hissed, slamming your textbook shut . Several students at nearby tables startled. Jisung didn't even twitch. "I was just—"

"Admiring his scholarly dedication?" Yunjin smirked, kicking her feet down from the table. "Or maybe his impressive drool radius?"

"I was wondering how someone who sleeps through every lecture still manages to ace every exam."

As if on cue, Jisung shifted in his sleep, his dangling arm swinging. he nearly toppled him sideways out of his chair. Your body reacted before your brain could stop it, half standing, hand outstretched - only to freeze when he somehow righted himself without waking.

Yunjin's eyebrows shot up. "Wow."

"Wow what?" You dropped back into your seat, face burning.

"Nothing," she said, stretching the word into three syllables. "Just never realized you cared so much about Jisung's spinal health."

"I just didn't want to witness a concussion in the library."

Yunjin grinned, kicking you lightly under the table. "Uh huh. Sure. That's definitely why you looked ready to dive across three tables like a superhero." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "You secretly like him."

You choked on air. "Like him? Are you insane? He's—" You gestured wildly toward Jisung's sleeping form. "—that. That's what he is. A menace. A sleeping menace."

"Aw, but look how peaceful he is," Yunjin cooed, feigning innocence. "Like a little angel."

At that exact moment, Jisung snorted loudly in his sleep, mumbled something unintelligible, and promptly face planted directly onto his textbook. You winced. Yunjin burst out laughing.

He lifted his head blearily, blinked at the drool smeared page stuck to his cheek, then promptly slumped back down without a single coherent thought behind his eyes.

Yunjin wiped tears from her cheeks, still giggling. "Oh my god. He's adorable."

"You're delusional," you muttered, shoving your notebook into your backpack. The zipper caught on a loose page, and you yanked it free with a frustrated huff. "Let's get lunch before I have to listen to any more of this."

Yunjin’s eyes lit up suddenly, "Oh! Right," she said, snapping her fingers as you shoved the last of your notebooks into your bag. "You’re coming with me to that party tonight."

You blinked. "What party?"

"The one hyunjin’s throwing at his apartment," she said, as if this were obvious. "The one I told you about last week."

"You absolutely did not."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Semantics. Anyway, after lunch, we’re going back to our dorm so you can try on at least three outfits before I approve one."

You groaned, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. "No way. I have actual responsibilities."

Yunjin stood, shoving her phone into her pocket "Nope. You’ve been holed up in the library for weeks. You’re coming, and you’re going to socialize, and you’re going to like it." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Unless you’d rather stay here and stare at Jisung some more."

You nearly tripped over your own feet. "What? I wasn’t—"

"Uh huh." She linked her arm through yours, steering you toward the library exit "lunch first, outfits second, party third. No arguments."

You dug your heels in halfway to the door. "What if I want to argue? - who the hell even hosts a party on a school night-"

Yunjin sighed dramatically, turning to face you with a look of exaggerated pity. "Sweet, naive, delusional you. When have your arguments ever worked on me?"

"...Never."

"Exactly." She patted your cheek. "Now move. I’m starving."

You did end up going according to Yunjin’s plans - not that you had a choice, given she’d physically dragged you out of the library, then out of your dorm.

to top it all off, you had to wait for her because if you didn't, there'd be no one to take her drunk ass home, and you'd end up finding her in a ditch somewhere next morning.

so you had to wait till the asscrack of the night to take her home because no matter how un enjoyable a party is, you were not a bad friend.

and you were gonna be so late tomorrow.

~

The blaring alarm tore Jisung from his sleep this time. He gasped awake, limbs tangled in sheets that felt suspiciously sticky - had he spilled something last night? His hand shot out blindly toward the nightstand, fingers slapping against anything but his phone.

The alarm continued shrieking. Jisung groaned, pawing at the edge of his nightstand until his fingertips brushed warm metal. He grabbed his phone and hit the screen repeatedly-

The screen cracked under Jisung's fingers with a pop when he swiped to turn off the alarm. not a full shatter, but a spiderweb of fractures radiating from his thumbprint.

He blinked at it, sleep fogged brain struggling to process why his phone screen suddenly broke just from a few taps of his finger.

The display still functioned beneath the damage, the time, 8:15AM, visible through the splintered glass. Jisung flexed his fingers. He hadn't pushed that hard. Had he?

Jisung frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. The cracked phone screen wasn't the only thing that felt off, his head throbbed like he'd pulled an all nighter.

He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the frames in his haste.

The moment he slid them on, the world tilted.

Everything blurred into a nauseating smear of colors and shapes - like someone had smeared Vaseline across his lenses.

Jisung ripped the glasses off his face. The world snapped into focus, he could see perfectly without his glasses. He blinked rapidly. His vision hadn't been this clear since elementary school.

"What the fuck," he whispered, turning his hands over in front of his face. The calluses on his fingertips stood out in stark relief, the whorls of his fingerprints unnervingly detailed.

He rubbed his eyes hard till he saw colors and shapes behind his eyelids, but when he opened them again, his dorm room remained horrifically, impossibly sharp.

Jisung exhaled slowly through his nose and tossed the glasses onto the nightstand - they landed with a clatter, one temple arm snapping off completely.

His wrist itched. The bite mark from yesterday was gone.

Jisung rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor with an audible thud that made the loose change on his nightstand rattle.

He stretched, arms arching high above his head - and froze mid yawn when he heard the distinctive rrrip of fabric.

His sleep addled brain registered two things at once, the sudden draft across his shoulders, and the fact that his favorite hoodie, the one he’d slept in last night, now had a gaping tear along the seam.

He blinked down at himself. The fabric clung to his torso in ways it never had before, stretched taut across shoulders that suddenly looked broader. His biceps pressed against the sleeves, the cuffs riding up his wrist like they’d shrunk in the wash.

Jisung frowned and tugged at the hem. It didn’t budge.

his full length mirror confirmed it. His reflection stared back at him - same messy hair, same sleep creased cheek, but it was like he hit a second puberty overnight.

The hoodie that used to hang loose now hugged every contour of his torso, the fabric straining across his chest when he inhaled.

he took his hoodie off - since when did he have abs?? he was met with whole six pack. he even counted them.

he prodded at his own bicep experimentally, half expecting it, I don't know, deflate? It didn’t.

The bedroom door creaked open - Chan appearing at the doorway, "I swear to god, if you're still asleep-" His threat died halfway out of his mouth when he saw Jisung.

Jisung stood frozen in front of the mirror, shirtless and wide eyed, one hand still gripping the torn remains of his hoodie. The morning light caught the sharp new definition of his shoulders, the lean muscle coiled along his arms like he'd spent the last six months living in a gym.

"...Did you steal Changbin's protein shakes?"

Jisung whipped around "What? No! I just-" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I woke up like this."

Chan stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. His gaze flickered over Jisung's torso - the previously soft lines of his stomach now taut, the faint shadows of ribs replaced by something decidedly more athletic.

Chan reached out and poked Jisung's bicep with two fingers. It felt like pressing against granite.

"Ow," Jisung lied automatically, then blinked. "Wait. That didn't actually hurt."

Chan's eyebrows raised. "You're telling me you went to bed and woke up as-" He gestured vaguely at Jisung's entire existence. "-whatever this is?"

A beat of silence. Then, from the hallway, "If you two are having a moment, I'm throwing myself off the window." Changbin's voice, muffled through the door.

Chan ignored him. "Did you take something? Experimental pre workout? Sketchy supplements from the gym bros?"

Jisung's fingers twitched toward his wrist - where the spider bite had been. The skin was smooth. "I might have... broken into the biotech lab yesterday."

Chan's expression grew even more confused. "okay...?"

The bedroom door slammed open before Jisung could answer. Changbin stood in the threshold, mouth already open to ask why the hell they were whispering with the door closed - then his eyes landed on Jisung’s bare torso. His eyebrows shot up. "Woah. What happened to you?"

Jisung threw his hands in the air, "I know! I woke up like - okay listen," he took a deep breath,

"yesterday I was late, like super late, so I took a shortcut through the science building even though I’m technically banned from the biotech wing after the centrifuge incident—"

Changbin mouthed 'centrifuge incident?' at Chan, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

"-and then I heard this noise from the restricted lab, right? So obviously I had to check it out-"

"You didn’t have to," Chan groaned.

"and there was this spider, this huge freaky blue one, in a tank that I maybe knocked over-"

"You knocked over-"

"-and it bit me! Right here!" Jisung brandished his unmarked wrist, "It hurt like hell yesterday but now it’s gone and suddenly I can see everything without my glasses and I just ripped my favorite hoodie like it was tissue paper-" He demonstrated by grabbing the hem of his remaining sleeve and tugging. The fabric split with a sound like tearing paper.

Changbin's mouth dropped open. Chan's blinked in disbelief.

"Okay," Chan said very slowly, "So you're telling me a genetically modified spider bit you, and now you're..." He gestured vaguely at Jisung's new physique. "This?"

Jisung flexed his arms experimentally. His biceps jumped under his skin "I mean, when you say it like that-"

Changbin suddenly lunged forward and punched Jisung square in the stomach - or tried to. His fist connected with what felt like solid concrete instead of soft flesh.

Jisung didn't even flinch. Changbin yelped, shaking out his hand. "Holy shit, dude. That's not normal."

Jisung looked down at his own abdomen, prodding the spot Changbin had hit. "Didn't feel anything." His voice went unnervingly quiet. "Should I be freaking out?"

Chan grabbed Jisung's shoulders - or attempted to, before his fingers slipped off the unexpected slope of muscle. "You shouldn't be able to bench press a car after one spider bite!"

"Technically I haven't tried that yet-"

The alarm on Jisung’s shattered phone blared again, 8:45AM, and Chan visibly flinched. “Shit. Class starts in fifteen.”

Changbin was already halfway out the door, yelling over his shoulder, “I’m not getting marked absent because you two want to dissect Jisung’s sudden glow up!”

Chan walked out of Jisung's room too, coming back after a moment,

"Here," Chan grunted, tossing a black hoodie at Jisung's face. It smelled faintly of fabric softener and Chan's inexplicably expensive cologne. "It's the biggest one I've got. Don't pop the seams."

~

Jisung reached campus a full minute before Chan and Changbin, his sneakers skidding to a halt outside the lecture hall with unnatural ease.

His lungs barely burned, just a pleasant warmth where there should have been heaving breaths.

He turned, bouncing on his toes while waiting for his roommates to catch up, when a sudden prickle raced down his spine. His scalp tingled.

Something was about to happen.

The prickle exploded into full body alarm a half second before the weight hit him.

Jisung spun without thinking - his hands snapping up just as you tripped. His palm connected with your shoulder an instant before you would have face planted into his chest.

The force should have sent both of you crashing to the ground, but Jisung didn’t budge an inch - just absorbed the impact like you weighed nothing.

Your coffee wasn’t so lucky, The cup slipped from your grip. Jisung’s free hand shot out, snatching it mere inches from the ground. Hot liquid sloshed against the inside of the lid but didn’t spill. He held it there, frozen, your shoulder still cradled in his other hand, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence.

Up close, you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes - something you’d never noticed before.

“You-” you started.

“I-” he interrupted at the same time.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Uh. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, too quickly. His hands were still there.

Jisung blinked like he’d just remembered they were attached to him, then jerked them away. The coffee wobbled dangerously in his grip. You grabbed it before it could spill .

“Late too?” he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of Chan’s hoodie.

You nodded, adjusting your bag strap. “Yeah.”

You stared at him for a second too long, suddenly noticing how the hoodie strained across his shoulders - when had Han Jisung gotten broad? The absence of his usual thick framed glasses left his face strangely exposed, his cheekbones and dark lashes more pronounced than you remembered.

"Thanks," you muttered, brushing nonexistent lint off your sweater where his hands had been.

After a beat, you added, "Good reflexes," because it was true and you hated leaving truths unsaid, even for him.

Jisung blinked at you, momentarily stunned by the compliment - his mouth opened, closed, then opened again. A faint pink spread across his cheeks, "Uh," he managed. His fingers twitched toward his face, a habitual gesture to push up glasses that weren't there, before aborting the motion halfway.

"Uh, thanks," Jisung managed after an awkward pause, He cleared his throat "I mean - you're welcome. Obviously. Because I saved your life."

"You caught my coffee," you corrected flatly, lifting the cup slightly as evidence.

His grin returned, familiar. "Same difference." He rocked back on his heels, "You would've face planted on the pavement if I hadn't intervened. Tragic, really."

"I take it back. Never complimenting you again."

before he could retort, Changbin's voice cut through the courtyard "If you two are done flirting, we're gonna be late!" He stood at the lecture hall doors with Chan, who was rubbing his temples like he'd aged ten years in the past hour.

Jisung whipped around so fast his sneakers squeaked against the pavement. "We're not-!"

You walked past him before he could finish the sentence, shoulders brushing hard against his as you passed.

~

Jisung didn't plan to become a hero - it just sort of happened at 1:37 AM outside a convenience store three nights after The Bite.

He'd been pacing his dorm room, fingers twitching with pent up energy, when Chan threw a couch cushion his head and told him to "go climb a building or something, Jesus Christ."

So he did. Sort of. Mostly he just jumped fire escapes until his thighs burned and his lungs finally felt normal again, which is how he ended up perched on a rusty AC unit overlooking the 24 hour convenience store when the guy in the ski mask walked in waving a gun.

The gun glinted under the lights of the convenience store, its barrel wavering between the cashier and the racks of snacks. Jisung's body moved before his brain caught up, one second he was crouched on the AC unit, the next he was dropping through the open window like a damn action hero.

His sneakers hit the floor with barely a sound, knees bending to absorb the impact that should've shattered his ankles. The robber whirled around, gun swinging wildly. Time slowed. Jisung saw the trigger finger tense, saw the cashier duck behind the counter.

He lunged.

What happened next was equal parts luck and whatever the hell that spider had pumped into his veins. His palm smacked the gun sideways just as it discharged - the bullet embedding itself in a display of energy drinks with a sickening thunk.

Jisung's other hand grabbed the guy's wrist, twisting until the gun clattered to the floor. The would be robber screamed. Not from pain, Jisung realized, but from the sight of his own fingers bending the wrong way under Jisung's grip. He let go like he'd been burned. The guy bolted, leaving his ski mask behind in Jisung's fist.

Silence.

Jisung didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the cashier wheezed out a shaky "Holy shit." The gun lied abandoned on the floor between them, still warm from the misfired shot.

Jisung stared at it, then at his own hands - his bare hands, no gloves, no mask, just his stupidly recognizable face that was probably caught on camera. His stomach dropped.

Chan was going to murder him.

The cashier - a guy his age with a nametag reading 'jeongin' - slowly straightened from behind the counter, eyes darting between Jisung and the discarded ski mask. "...Are you gonna rob me too?"

"What? No!" Jisung’s voice cracked. He kicked the gun farther away for emphasis. "I just-" He gestured vaguely at the empty space where the robber had been. "-stopped that guy. Obviously."

The ski mask stared up at Jisung from the convenience store floor. He scooped it up, fingers brushing the rough knit fabric, still warm from the robber's panicked sweat.

The cashier was already dialing the police with shaking hands, but Jisung's feet were moving before his brain caught up. He bolted out the door like he was the criminal, the stolen mask crumpled in his fist.

His knees nearly buckled when he hit the pavement - the sudden realization that he'd just stopped an armed robbery barefaced hit him.

Jisung sprinted down three alleys and ducked behind a dumpster just as police sirens wailed past the mouth of the alley. His heart hammered against his ribs, not from fear, but from something far worse. exhilaration.

He lifted the ski mask toward his face, hesitating for just a second before remembering its previous owner had been sweating bullets into the fabric.

He tentatively sniffed it - then recoiled so hard his head smacked against the dumpster behind him.

"Yuck," a stench clung to it, absolutely not.

He sprinted home in record time, sneakers barely touching the pavement. His enhanced legs carried him up the fire escape in three leaps. The window to their apartment's living room was still cracked open from his earlier escape, curtains fluttering in the night breeze. Jisung slid inside, falling right onto his ass.

"Ow," Changbin deadpanned from his bed, not looking up from his phone.

Jisung scrambled upright, ski mask still clutched in one hand. His gaze flicked from Jisung's disheveled hair to the crumpled mask.

Chan’s eyebrow twitched. “So. You robbed a robber.”

Jisung flapped the ski mask like a surrender flag. “No! I disarmed a robber. Then maybe borrowed his mask. Temporarily.”

Changbin snorted "And you didn’t think to cover your face before playing hero?"

this rooted a bad, bad idea into jisungs head.

he spent the next morning hunched over Chan’s laptop, scrolling through fabric stores frantically. His fingers drummed against the keyboard, pausing only to zoom in on a breathable material that promised "enhanced mobility" and "sweat wicking technology."

The description sounded like something straight out of a superhero movie - which, he supposed, was exactly what he needed now.

Chan watched from the doorway, arms crossed. "You realize this is insane, right?"

Jisung didn’t look up. "Less insane than stopping another robbery barefaced."

his first attempt at making a suit for his superhero persona was a disaster.

Jisung had underestimated the complexity of sewing stretch fabric, resulting in a lopsided mess of seams that bunched uncomfortably around his shoulders.

The second attempt fared slightly better - until he tested its durability by scaling the dorm’s exterior wall, only for the pants to split straight down the middle mid climb.

soon enough, Chan saw jisung's genuine dedication, and had taken pity on him. they spent late nights hunched over fabric scraps, Chan’s steady hands guiding the sewing machine - that chan bought from is own money earned from DJ gigs, mind you - while Jisung sketched designs in the margins of his notebooks.

The final prototype emerged from their shared efforts, a sleek red and blue suit with reinforced stitching and breathable mesh panels. The mask took another three attempts before achieving the perfect fit, complete with oversized white lenses that concealed his identity while enhancing his already unnaturally sharp vision.

Jisung examined himself in the dorm’s full length mirror for the first time, twisting to check the fit. The suit hugged his new musculature without restricting movement, the fabric stretching effortlessly as he flexed. He rolled his shoulders experimentally - it was the most comfortable model so far.

"Okay," Chan admitted, "That actually looks... decent."

Changbin tossed an empty soda can at Jisung’s head from across the room. Jisung caught it without looking, reflexes kicking in. The can crumpled further in his grip.

"Show off," Changbin muttered.

The mask was the final piece. Jisung hesitated before pulling it on, fingertips brushing the blank white lenses. Once these went on, it'd be an official embodiment of... whatever this was.

The fabric settled over his face. His breathing echoed strangely in the enclosed space, but his vision remained clear. He blinked, adjusting to the surreal sensation of seeing more while being seen less.

Chan exhaled sharply. "Well. That's... a look."

Jisung twisted to examine his reflection in the mirror. The suit clung to his new physique like a second skin, the red and blue panels accentuating rather than hiding the slope of his shoulders. with a spider logo stitched across the center of his chest.

"So. What now?" chan cleared his throat.

Jisung exhaled through the mask, watching the fabric flutter slightly with his breath. "Now I test it."

His fingers found purchase on the brickwork without thought, his body moving with an instinct he shouldn't possess. He scaled the dormitory wall in seconds. Below, Seoul sprawled in a grid of neon and shadow, its pulse thrumming through the pavement under his palms.

He jumped.

The world tilted. His stomach lurched from the sheer impossibility of what his body was doing. He arced over the alleyway, arms outstretched, fingertips brushing the opposite fire escape before his feet even registered the landing.

The impact should have shattered his knees. Instead, he rolled smoothly onto the grated metal platform, his pulse steady in his ears.

That was when he heard a scream.

It cut through the ambient city noise . Jisung's head snapped toward the sound. Four blocks northeast. A woman's scream. fear, urgent terror in her voice.

He moved.

His body propelled him forward before conscious thought could interfere. The city blurred around him as he swung from ledges, his shot web lines that shouldn't have held his weight. Yet they did.

The polymer strands stretched taut as he launched himself between buildings, and landed on the third story balcony of a love hotel just as the scene unfolded below, a man dragging a woman toward a waiting car, her heels scraping against pavement as she fought.

Jisung didn't think, he immediately droped down, landing between the assailant and the car with a thud. The man recoiled, dragging the woman tighter against him as a human shield. Up close, Jisung could see the knife glinting in his free hand, the woman's smudged mascara.

"Back off!" the man snarled, blade pressing into her side.

Jisung's hands came up instinctively, palms out. The woman's wide eyes locked onto his mask. "You're-" she gasped.

Then everything happened at once. The man lunged, knife flashing. Jisung's body moved - his hand shot out, catching the blade mid air. Metal screeched against reinforced fabric, but didn't pierce.

The man's eyes widened comically as Jisung twisted his wrist, sending the knife clattering to the ground.

The knife skittered across the pavement. Jisung didn’t wait for the guy to process what had just happened, he pivoted on his heel, using his own momentum to yank the woman free in one motion.

She stumbled forward, gasping, but Jisung was already stepping between them, his body angled to shield her completely.

“Run,” he said. The word came out muffled and distorted through the mask, more like a growl than actual speech. The woman didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, heels clicking against the sidewalk as she disappeared around the corner.

The would be attacker stared at Jisung, then at his own empty hand, then back at Jisung. “What the hell are you?”

Jisung's breath hitched behind the mask - What was he? A broke college student who'd bitten off more than he could chew. A walking science experiment. Definitely not someone who should be standing between an armed assailant and certain doom at 3 AM on a Tuesday.

"Uh," he managed, voice cracking through the fabric. "spiderman?"

The man lunged. Jisung sidestepped on instinct, the guy's momentum carried him straight into a dumpster with a metallic clang that echoed down the alley. Jisung winced. That had to hurt.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, close enough to spook the would be kidnapper, who scrambled upright and bolted in the opposite direction.

Jisung let him go. Chasing him down would mean explaining why he was dressed like a rejected Power Ranger, and frankly, he'd already pushed his luck far enough for one night.

Jisung crouched on the rooftop ledge, peeling off the mask with a wet shluck sound - the fabric sticking stubbornly to his sweaty forehead.

Below, the woman he'd rescued was giving a statement to the police, gesturing wildly toward the rooftops. He ducked back before she could spot him.

His phone buzzed violently against his thigh. Chan's caller ID flashed across the cracked screen, followed immediately by Changbin's bombardment of texts

BRO

DID YOU JUST GO VIRAL ON TWITTER

THERES VIDEO OF YOU DOING A BACKFLIP OVER A CAR

Jisung groaned, flopping onto his back. Gravel dug into his shoulder blades through the suit. Above him, Seoul's light pollution drowned out the stars, leaving only a murky orange haze.

He held up his phone, squinting at the blurry footage someone had uploaded. there he was, mid backflip, his red and blue suit a neon smear against the night. The caption read

Spiderman??? In SEOUL????

The first tweet had thirty seven likes. By morning, it had seventeen thousand and counting.

Jisung woke to Changbin shoving his phone in his face, screen displaying a grainy video of someone in a red and blue suit flipping over a moving car. "Congratulations," Changbin said. "You're a meme now."

Chan was less amused. He paced their dorm room, pausing only to read the growing pile of news articles on his laptop:

SPIDERMAN IN SEOUL? SUPER-HERO OR SUPER-ZERO?

before rounding on Jisung. "This," he hissed, jabbing a finger at the screen, "is the opposite of keeping a low profile."

Jisung groaned into his pillow. "It was one car."

~

You'd seen the videos. Everyone had. Grainy footage of some idiot in red and blue flipping over cars and catching falling flowerpots like it was nothing. The internet had collectively lost its mind - #SpiderManSeoul was still trending and it's been a whole two weeks - but you refused to join the hype.

"Obviously fake," you muttered in the cafeteria, stabbing your chopsticks into a piece of kimchi. The table next to yours erupted into excited chatter about the latest clip, Spiderman allegedly stopping a truck from hitting a pedestrian near Hongdae.

Yunjin slammed her phone down on the cafeteria table hard enough to make your soup bowl rattle. "That's three robberies he's stopped this week," she hissed, scrolling through blurry footage. "How can you still think this is fake?"

You rolled your eyes, stirring your half cold soup. "Easy. Because physics don't work like that, and neither do people." You pointed your chopsticks at her phone screen where 'Spiderman' was currently doing something that should've snapped his spine in five places. "That's either CGI or a really dedicated performance artist with a death wish."

Across the table, Yunjin made a noise like a deflating balloon. "You're impossible." She flicked to another video, this one showing the vigilante webbing a purse snatcher to a lamppost mid sprint. "Explain that then,"

You leaned in, squinting at the pixelated mess. "Okay one, that 'web' looks suspiciously like industrial grade fishing line. Two-" you tapped the timestamp in the corner "-this was filmed at 2 AM near Hongdae. Everyone's either drunk or sleep deprived enough to hallucinate shit like this."

You snorted into your soup, watching Yunjin's face contort in frustration. "Honestly, anyone dumb enough to believe in 'Spiderman' probably thinks pigeons are government drones too." You waved a dismissive hand toward her phone. "He's probably just some adrenaline junkie with too much free time and a GoPro."

From the neighboring table, someone choked on their rice. You glanced over just in time to see Jisung wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Chan smacked him hard on his back, whether to help him breathe or silence him, you couldn't tell.

"Or," Jisung wheezed, voice still rough from coughing, "maybe he's actually helping people?" He twisted in his seat to face you fully, elbows propped on the table behind him. "Ever think of that, genius?"

Changbin groaned audibly and slid down in his chair.

You arched an eyebrow. "Didn't realize you were such a Spiderman fan, Han. Got a poster of him over your bed?"

Jisung's ears turned pink. "I'm just saying-" he jabbed a chopstick in your direction "-if someone's stopping crimes for free, maybe don't trash talk them while chewing with your mouth full."

Yunjin added "You're just jealous because you can't backflip over cars."

"I could if I wanted to," you shot back, knowing full well your athletic abilities peaked at speed walking to morning lectures.

Jisung snorted. "Sure, and I'm the queen of England."

Chan materialized between the tables. His palm hit Jisung’s shoulder with a dull thwack that knocked him forward into his bibimbap. “We’re late,” Chan announced, already dragging Jisung upright by the collar like a misbehaving kitten.

Jisung spluttered, chopsticks clattering to the tray. “Late for what?”

“The thing,” Changbin interjected smoothly, sliding out of his seat “The very important thing.”

You watched as Chan dragged Jisung toward the exit, Jisung still craning his neck to shout over his shoulder, “Ask me about my queen of England autograph later!”

Chan’s exasperated groan echoed down the hallway as the door swung shut behind them.

Left in their abrupt absence, you blinked at Yunjin. “What the hell was that about?”

She shrugged, scrolling through more Spiderman footage. “Dunno, but Han Jisung defending a vigilante’s honor is weirder than you denying literal video evidence.”

She paused the playback right as Spiderman executed a midair twist that defied every law of physics. “anyway, I think you’re just salty because Spiderman could probably out academic you and out athletic you.”

well...he literally did.

~

your disbelief in spiderman came back and smacked you right in the face.

you were at the library after you finished your lectures for the day, the library was unusually quiet for midterm season, the usual chatter replaced by the frantic scratching of pens and the occasional sniffle from sleep deprived students. You rubbed your temples, staring at the same differential equations page for forty five minutes straight. At this rate, you'd be here until sunrise, again.

Outside, Seoul had long since plunged into darkness, the campus pathways illuminated only by streetlamps. You hesitated at the library doors - your dorm was a fifteen minute walk through the least lit part of campus, but the alternative was another all nighter hunched over textbooks.

You'd taken three steps onto the pavement when the first catcall sliced through the quiet.

A group of drunk frat boys loitered near the bus stop, their laughter too loud, eyes tracking your movement.

You tightened your grip on your backpack straps and picked up the pace. Their footsteps followed, uneven against the pavement.

"Hey sweetheart, why you walking so fast?"

Your pulse jackhammered against your ribs. The shortcut through the engineering building's side alley was suddenly a terrible idea — too narrow, too dark, too isolated. You fumbled for your phone just as a hand grabbed your elbow.

Your elbow jerked instinctively, but the grip tightened. One of the drunk guys leaned in, his breath sour with soju as he slurred, "Don't be like that. We're just walking you home."

The others chuckled, closing ranks around you. Your phone slipped from your sweating fingers, clattering to the pavement.

You tried to say something, anything, but your voice came out shaky and thin, "Let go," you managed, but it sounded more like a question than a command.

The guy holding your elbow laughed, his grip tightening just enough to make your bones protest. His friends shuffled closer, their shadows swallowing the dim streetlight whole.

A second hand clamped onto your shoulder from behind. "Relax," someone slurred. "We're nice guys."

You twisted against the hold, but there were too many of them, too many hands, too many laughs, too many bodies boxing you in.

Then, movement. A flicker of red and blue in your peripheral vision. One of the drunk guys yelped as his hand was suddenly gone from your arm, yanked backward by an invisible force. The others barely had time to turn before something - someone - slammed into their midst like a human wrecking ball.

The drunk guy's hand vanished from your elbow with a wet thwip sound, followed by his startled scream as he was yanked backward into a dumpster.

His buddies whirled around - just in time to see a red and blue blur drop from the fire escape above, landing between them with a crouch.

"Hey guys," Spiderman said, tilting his head. The blank white lenses of his mask made his expression unreadable, "Didn't your moms teach you it's rude to grope strangers?"

One of the drunk guys lunged. Spiderman sidestepped without looking, webbing the guy's sneakers to the sidewalk mid swing. The dude faceplanted with a grunt, his friends gaping as he struggled against the sticky white strands now gluing his shoes to concrete.

"Oops," Spiderman said, tapping his chin. "Must've slipped."

Another guy charged. Spiderman flipped over him effortlessly, landing on the dumpster lid with a metallic clang. "Wow," he mused, watching the guy stumble past. "You're really bad at this. Like, impressively bad."

You stood frozen against the alley wall, watching Spiderman web the third guy's hands to his own jacket zipper. "There," he said, patting the stuck zipper. "Now you can't unzip or zip. Poetic, right?"

The last drunk guy made a break for it. Spiderman sighed dramatically. "Come on, man. Group project participation counts toward your final grade." A web shot out, snagging the runner's ankle mid stride.

He yelped as Spiderman reeled him in like a fish, depositing him neatly beside his webbed up friends.

Spiderman dusted off his gloves. "Alright, team huddle! Here's the deal-" he crouched to their eye level,

"-next time you think about cornering someone in a dark alley? Don't." He tapped the first guy's forehead with one finger. "Or I find you."

The drunk guys paled. Spiderman straightened, turning toward you then froze. His masked head tilted slightly, the lenses widening almost imperceptibly.

You realized three things at once

one, Your knees were shaking.

two, Spiderman was much shorter in person than the videos made him seem.

three, You'd dropped your phone and backpack during the scuffle, and your differential equations notes were now scattered across the alley like confetti.

Spiderman bent to gather your papers, his movements almost... familiar. He stacked them neatly and held them out. "You, uh. You okay?" His voice was softer now, the earlier bravado gone.

You took the notes with numb fingers. "Yeah. Thanks." The words came out hoarse.

Spiderman nodded awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Cool. Coolcoolcool." He cleared his throat. "So. Should I web these guys to a lamppost for the cops, or...?"

One of the webbed up drunks whimpered.

You swallowed hard. "Lamppost's good."

Spiderman saluted. "Lamppost it is."

Spiderman made quick work of securing the drunk guys to the nearest lamppost, his webs forming a messy cocoon around their legs. One of them hiccuped pathetically as Spiderman gave the webbing an experimental tug. "There," he said cheerfully. "Now you can reflect on your mistakes while waiting for the cops."

You hugged your notes to your chest, still processing the fact that Spiderman, the same one you'd spent weeks insisting was fake, just saved you.

"You're... shorter than I expected," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Spiderman's head snapped up. For a second, the mask's lenses just... stared.

Then he pressed a hand to his chest. "Excuse you, I'm perfectly average height for a-" He cut himself off abruptly, clearing his throat. "Anyway. You're welcome for saving your life or whatever."

"You didn't save my life," you muttered, kneeling to gather the last of your scattered pens.

Spiderman made a noise between a laugh and a wheeze. "Right. Sorry for interrupting your very important... pen collecting."

You looked up at him, "I was handling it."

"Uh huh." He crossed his arms, the red fabric stretching taut over his shoulders. "Because saying 'let go' in a squeaky voice is totally handling it."

Your cheeks burned. "I wasn't squeaky."

Spiderman's mask tilted slightly, "Sure," he drawled, dragging the word out.

You opened your mouth to retort when a police siren wailed in the distance. Spiderman's head snapped toward the sound, his posture more alert. "Right. That's my cue." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Need a swing home?"

You blinked. "A what?"

Before you could protest, he'd already grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but careful, "Do you trust me?"

"No," you said immediately.

Spiderman grinned beneath his mask - you could hear it in his voice. "Perfect."

Then he yanked you forward before you could react, making you drop your bag in the process, his other hand shooting a web line to the nearest rooftop with a sharp thwip.

Your stomach lurched violently as your feet left the pavement, the ground dropping away beneath you with terrifying speed.

You shrieked, instinctively locking your arms around his neck in a death grip as the world tilted sideways. Buildings blurred past, wind howling in your ears loud enough to drown out your own panicked breathing.

Spiderman's arm banded around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he swung into open air. "Relax!" he shouted over the rush of wind. "I've only dropped one person!"

"WHAT?!" You dug your fingers into his shoulders hard enough to bruise - if normal humans could bruise whatever weird super skin he had.

"Kidding!" He adjusted his grip slightly, angling his body to catch the updraft as he launched you both higher.

he released the web line, freefalling for one terrifying second before another thwip sent you arcing upward again. The city sprawled beneath you, the view would've been beautiful if you weren't convinced you were about to become sidewalk confetti.

"wait- you passed my dorm!" you yelled over the wind, nails digging into Spiderman's shoulders as another swing took your breath away. The familiar building of your residence hall flashed below - then vanished behind you .

Spiderman's grip tightened fractionally around your waist. "Yeah, well," he called back, voice strained from the wind and what sounded suspiciously like laughter, "you looked like you could use some fresh air!"

You tried to say something back, but your words dissolved into a startled squeak as the city tilted dizzyingly. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, but somewhere between the fourth and fifth swing, you realized your death grip had eased slightly. Maybe it was the way his arm stayed locked around your waist like a seatbelt, or how he angled his body to shield you from the worst of the wind.

"See?" Spiderman's said, "Not so bad once you stop trying to strangle me." He flipped midair just to hear you yelp, catching another webline with practiced ease.

"You're insane!" you managed, but your arms relaxed incrementally as you adjusted to the rhythm of his swings. The initial terror dulled into adrenaline, mixed with reluctant awe as Seoul sprawled beneath you in glowing grids.

The Han River flashed between buildings, and for one insane second, you understood why people did extreme sports.

Then Spiderman corkscrewed sideways without warning, shooting a web toward a higher rooftop. "check out this view!"

Before you could protest, he backflipped off the webline, sending you both soaring over a pedestrian bridge in a wide arc. Your stomach dropped straight to your shoes.

and suddenly you let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of everything. at the fact that you were saved by spiderman in an alley, at the fact that you were finally getting your first breath of fresh air after days of being cooped up in either your room, or the library, or the lecture Hall.

The sound burst out, bright and startled against the roar of wind. Spiderman's head snapped toward you so fast, then he laughed too, the sound muffled by the mask but real, bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest as he swung you both higher.

you spent a minute or two like that. Spiderman took a sharper turn than intended, nearly clipping a Samsung billboard with his shoulder. "Shit, sorry!" he yelped, twisting midair to avoid impact.

The sudden jerk should have terrified you, but instead you just laughed harder, your fingers loosening their death grip on his shoulders as you clung to him more out of habit than panic now.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you shouted over the wind, a smile still on your face.

"Only a little!" he called back.

Your dorm building came into view far below, Spiderman slowed his swings gradually, letting momentum carry you both downward in gentler arcs until. He landed with surprising grace on the sidewalk out front, setting you down carefully - though your legs wobbled like jelly the second your sneakers hit concrete.

"Whoa there," he chuckled, steadying you with a hand on your elbow. You swayed slightly as your feet touched solid ground again, still dizzy from the swinging.

Spiderman's gloved hands lingered on your elbows, steadying you. "You good?" His voice was softer now .

"I'm-" You swallowed hard, willing your legs to stop shaking. "I'm alive. Which is... surprising."

The adrenaline was fading now, leaving you strangely lightheaded. "I... thanks. Really." The words came out quieter than you intended, but you meant them.

"Yeah. No problem. That's kind of... the whole point of the suit." He gestured vaguely at himself, the red fabric stretching with the movement.

You snorted despite yourself. "Yeah, well. You're still insufferable."

"Ouch. And here I was going to offer you a free ride anytime."

"Hard pass," you said immediately, but you were smiling, a small, reluctant thing.

Spiderman chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. He rocked back on his heels slightly. For a second, neither of you spoke, just stood there in the quiet aftermath, the distant city sounds filling the space between you.

Then he straightened. "Right. Don't get kidnapped again."

you smiled. "I'll try."

Spiderman gave a two fingered salute, already backing toward the alley wall. "If you do get kidnapped again-" he shot a webline upward without looking, the *thwip* cutting through the night air "-I'll be there." He tugged the web experimentally before adding, "But try not to make it a habit, yeah? My web fluid's expensive."

Before you could retort, he launched himself upward with a sudden burst of movement, the red and blue blur disappearing over the rooftop edge before you even processed the motion.

You stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the empty space where he'd been, your brain still trying to reconcile the fact that Spiderman - the same Spiderman you'd spent days dismissing as fake - had just swung you across half of Seoul.

The walk up to your dorm felt surreal. Your legs were stilll shakey, and you were still slightly dizzy.

You collapsed onto your bed fully dressed, convinced you'd lie awake replaying the night's events - then promptly passed out the second your head hit the pillow.

outside, Spiderman nearly faceplanted into a building mid swing. Because he was smiling like an absolute idiot under his mask, cheeks aching from the stupid, unstoppable smile that had been plastered on his face since he'd heard you laugh mid air.

He landed on the fire escape of their building, still buzzing with adrenaline. Peeling off the mask felt like surfacing from underwater - cool air hitting his sweaty face, the sounds of the city rushing back in clearly.

he shoved the window open, tumbling into the living room. Chan and Changbin were sprawled on the couch when Jisung crashed through the window.

Changbin glanced up from his phone. "Oh good, you didn't die." He paused his game just long enough to take in Jisung's disheveled state, mask off, hair sticking up in wild directions, and that ridiculous grin still plastered across his face. "Wait. Why do you look like that?"

"guys, you won't believe what just happened"

Jisung was halfway through inhaling to launch into his story when he froze mid breath, his eyes widening comically. "Wait - shit, her bag" He scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over.

Chan blinked. "Whose-"

"Be right back!" Jisung yanked the mask back over his head, the lenses setteling into place as he lunged for the window. "Forgot something super important"

Changbin's shout of "What the hell-" was cut off by the sharp thwip of a web line as Jisung flung himself back into the night.

~

You woke to sunlight stabbing your eyelids and the distinct sensation of having been hit by a bus.

The events of last night rushed back in - drunk guys, Spiderman, swinging through Seoul.

You groaned into your pillow, half convinced it had all been some dream.

Then a gust of wind hit your face like a slap. You squinted against the sunlight, realizing with a start that your window was wide open, and you definitely hadn’t left it that way.

you scrambled out of bed and approached your window sil. There, dangling from a single strand of web, was your missing backpack.

The backpack swung slightly as you reached out, the web strand stretching oddly. You tugged it free with a disgusting schlorp sound, and you saw a folded square of notebook paper stuck to the fabric with another glob of web.

You peeled it off with two fingers, The note was written in messy, angular handwriting that looked familiar.

you dropped this. your phone is inside too, you're welcome.

also, you snore.

- s

you stared at it, brain short circuiting between he brought my bag back and he watched me sleep?! before settling on the most pressing question, how the hell had Spiderman even known which dorm was yours? You hadn't told him. You were certain of it.

but maybe he'd just checked every single window till he found you -which would be extremely creepy, but made sense.

"There you are," Yunjin's voice cut through your spinning thoughts. You spun around to find her leaning against your doorframe, hair still mussed from sleep, squinting at you. "I was worried sick - where the hell were you last night?"

You opened your mouth - then froze. The backpack in your hands suddenly felt like damning evidence. "Library," you blurted too quickly.

Yunjin’s eyes dropped to the backpack in your hands, then narrowed at the sticky web residue still clinging to the fabric. Her gaze flicked to the note in your hands, then back to you. "Library," she repeated flatly. "Right."

She padded into your room, plucking the note from your hand with two fingers, then reading it, "You do snore," she said laughed, squinting at the handwriting. "Also, who the hell wrote this, who's 's'?" She waved the note in your face, the web glue still tacky.

You snatched it back. "no one."

She pointed at the webs on your bag. "spider webs?" Her voice pitched higher. "Did you, oh my god. Did Spiderman bring you home last night?"

She planted herself on your bed, legs crossed. "Start talking. Now." Her eyes flicked to your window, then back to you "And don’t even think about leaving out the part where Spiderman apparently knows where you live."

You sighed, sitting infront of her, "It’s not that dramatic. Some guys were being creeps last night, Spiderman showed up, webbed them to a lamppost, and then-" You hesitated, "And then he insisted on swinging me home."

Yunjin’s eyebrows shot up. "Swinging you home?" She grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "You swung through the city with spiderman?!"

"Yes! And it was terrifying!" You pried her hands off your shoulders. "And also... kind of amazing? But mostly terrifying. I almost threw up on him twice."

Yunjin's mouth fell open. "You- what" She grabbed your shoulders again, shaking you "You rode Spiderman?!"

"Swinging with Spiderman!" you corrected, cheeks flushing as you smacked her hands away.

Yunjin's grin turned positively feral as she flopped onto your bed, "Details. Now. How tall was he?"

"he's definitely shorter than you'd expect"

"Did he smell nice? Was he hot under the mask? Did he-"

"I didn't see his face. And you're disgusting," you hissed, chucking a pillow at her face.

"I'm invested," she corrected, hugging the pillow to her chest. "Also, I told you he was real."

You groaned, collapsing onto the bed beside her. "Okay, fine, he's real. Happy?"

"Ecstatic,"

safe to say, Yunjin wouldn't stop fangirling over this all afternoon.

~

Midterms came and went. You barely had time to process the fact that Spiderman had swung you across Seoul before exams swallowed your entire existence whole.

The only upside was that Jisung, for once, wasn't hovering around to gloat about his grades.

He seemed more busy, like he got a life or something, you'd catch him dozing off more than once, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days.

Winter break arrived soon after. If not at some party with yunjin, you spent most of it holed up in your bedroom, halfheartedly scrolling through Spiderman footage.

The videos had multiplied exponentially, now there were compilations of him rescuing cats from trees, stopping bike thieves, even helping an old lady carry groceries up six flights of stairs when her building's elevator broke.

The comments sections were flooded with debates about whether he was a hero, a menace, or just some guy with too much time.

You never commented. But you watched.

When the new semester started, campus was buzzing with fresh Spiderman gossip. Someone claimed they'd seen him perched on the humanities building at 3 AM.

Another swore they'd spotted him buying convenience store ramen in full costume.

Yunjin, of course, had compiled an entire folder of sightings on her phone and updated you daily despite your protests.

Jisung stumbled into Professor Kim's lecture hall seventeen minutes late, face still puffy like he'd rolled straight out of bed, which, given the pillow crease still visible on his left cheek, he probably had.

he blinked blearily at the seating chart projected on the board before shuffling toward the only empty seat in the room- right next to you, of course.

"You're late," you muttered as he collapsed into the chair with a groan.

"Yeah, well," Jisung yawned so wide his jaw cracked, "tell that to the asshole who decided 9 am classes were a good idea."

His elbow slid off the desk mid sentence, nearly knocking over your water bottle before he caught it with reflexes that were still annoyingly precise despite his obvious exhaustion.

Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, deep enough to be visible even in the lecture hall's dim lighting. and when he reached for his notebook, you caught a glimpse of fresh scrapes across his knuckles.

You didn't think much of it - Professor Kim clears her throat, and announced the semester's major project.

"Partners are assigned randomly," she said, tapping her clipboard as murmurs rippled through the lecture hall. "No swaps, no complaints. You'll be working together for the next eight weeks."

You barely had time to dread the possibilities before the projector screen lit up with the pairings list. Your stomach dropped straight to your shoes when you saw your name right next to Han Jisung's.

"Aw, we're finally spending quality time together."

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, but didn’t protest. Because - annoyingly - Jisung would a good project partner if he bothered to focus.

“Here,” you muttered, shoving your phone across the desk toward him “Put your number in before I change my mind.”

Jisung’s eyebrows shot up, he just stared at your phone. Then his face split into that infuriating smile.

“Aw,” he cooed, snatching the phone before you could reconsider. “You do care.” His thumbs flew across the screen with alarming speed. “Should I put a heart next to my name? Or maybe-”

“If you put anything besides your name and number, i'll take Chan's number and all interactions will be through him”

Jisung pouted before deleting the heart emoji he'd already typed, and then handed your phone back. "You're no fun,"

after class was over, you spotted Yunjin leaning against the courtyard railing, scrolling through her phone per usual.

The moment she caught sight of you, her eyebrows shot up, then immediately waggled suggestively as she took in your exhausted expression.

"Let me guess," she drawled, pocketing her phone with a smirk. "Spiderman swung by again? Or was it just Han Jisung being his usual pain-in-your-ass self?"

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "the latter." You paused, then sighed dramatically. "And also... we got paired for Kim's semester project."

Yunjin's eyes widened. "Oh my god. You're finally spending quality time together"

"You said the exact same thing he did," you groaned, "Word for word. I swear, both of you share the same overworked brain cell."

Yunjin snorted, "Girl, I wish I did share a brain cell with him, then maybe I'd actually be able to solve Kim's exams without wanting to yeet myself into the Han River."

you sighed, already drained from all the work you'd have to do this semester before it even started "then there's the university festival too"

"oh yea, what'cha planning to do for the big fair" yunjin said. "gonna work on something with han too?" she wiggled her eyebrows.

"absolutely not" you answered quickly, "I won't do anything, I'll just rest. yeah. I'll catch up on all the sleep I'm about to lose"

"aw, what a shame," yunjin said, then she leaned in, whispering, "Though honestly, if you really want to tap into that academic powerhouse, there are way more fun ways to-"

"Finish that thought and I'm throwing you into the Han River myself."

"I'm just sayin'," she said, dodging your attempt to push her, "both of you just need to have a good fuck for this rivalry to go away."

"Speaking of fucks," you said, leaning against the courtyard railing, "I’ll be working on the project at Jisung’s place most days. Which means our dorm will be delightfully empty."

You flicked a stray leaf off your sleeve "Feel free to bring your Tinder disasters over, just keep them away from my room, please"

Yunjin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Excuse you," she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder with exaggerated offense. "My Tinder disasters are upstanding gentlemen—"

"Who leave their boxers on your floor and eat my cereal," you deadpanned, "Just wash the sheets afterwards. And hide the good mugs."

~~~

when Jisung kicked the door open - a lethal combination of unwashed socks, stale ramen, and the faint metallic tang of something that might have been blood hit his face.

Chan looked up from his laptop just in time to see Jisung hurdle over the couch, skidding to a stop in front of the coffee table where changbin was demolishing a bag of chips.

"We have a problem," Jisung announced .

"You are the problem." changbin said.

Chan sighed, closing his laptop, "What did you break this time?"

"Nothing!" Jisung paused. "Well. Maybe the window latch. But that’s not the point." he paused. "She is coming here. To work on the project."

Changbin froze mid chip. "Who’s ‘she’-"

Chan’s eyes widened. "Oh no."

Jisung nodded frantically. "Oh yes."

Changbin’s eyes darted between them. "Wait. Are we talking about-"

"Yes," Chan groaned, already dragging a hand down his face.

Changbin’s chip bag hit the floor with a crunch. “Oh, hell no.” He scrambled up, scanning the apartment with mounting horror.

Medical supplies littered the kitchen counter, spare web cartridges rolled under the couch, and most damning jisung’s half finished suit upgrades dangled from a makeshift clothesline strung across the living room.

“We have twenty minutes to make this place look like normal people live here.”

Chan was already in motion, snatching stray web shooters off the coffee table. “Jisung, hide your suit. Changbin, take the first aid kits.” He paused mid step, “And for the love of god, air out this place. It smells like a rat died in here.”

Jisung went to yank the prototype suit off the clothesline, "It's not that bad," he protested, bundling the fabric under his arms.

The apartment was almost presentable by the time you knocked.

You stood outside their door, knocking twice, when a crash echoed from inside followed by frantic whispering.

after a minute, the door opened, revealing Changbin "Heyyyyy," he drawled, voice pitched an octave too high. "You're early"

you blinked, pointing your thumb back towards the elevator, "I can come back in a bit if you guys are busy-"

Changbin waved a hand like he was shooing away smoke. "Nah, nah, we’re good!" he stepped aside,

“Home sweet home,” Changbin announced, “Ignore the-” He gestured vaguely at a suspicious lump under a blanket that was definitely not laundry. “Decorative choices.”

You toed off your shoes at the entrance, noting with mild surprise that the apartment was cleaner than expected - though said suspicious lump under the blanket suggested they'd simply relocated the mess rather than actually cleaned it.

Chan looked up from his laptop, offering a casual salute as you stepped further into the apartment. "Hey," he said, "Jisung's in his room pretending he didn't just spend twenty minutes panic cleaning."

You snorted. "Sounds about right."

Jisung's bedroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a space that had clearly undergone a last minute excavation.

The floor was visible and his desk was suspiciously organized, textbooks stacked next to his laptop.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the doorframe. "I didn't know you owned a trash can."

Jisung spun around from where he'd been adjusting a poster that was still slightly crooked. "Shut up," he muttered, He gestured vaguely at the desk. "I set up already. Figured you'd want the, uh-" He waved his hands. "The workspace. Or whatever."

You walked in and over to the desk, project outline stared back at you from Jisung's laptop screen - neatly formatted, color-coded, and some parts were already done . You blinked. "You... started without me?"

Jisung shrugged, spinning a pen between his fingers, "Couldn't sleep last night." His knee bumped yours when you sat down, "Figured I'd get a head start before you could accuse me of slacking."

You stared at the spreadsheet he'd prepared, grudgingly impressed despite yourself. The formulas were flawless, the research sources ready, "Well. At least you're not completely useless."

"Wow. Wow. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." he leaned closer, "Careful. Keep this up and people might think we like each other."

"get to work," you muttered, pulling your chair closer to his desk.

Jisung straightened, "Yes, ma'am."

You shook your head, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a twitch. He noticed instantly, and his grin widened like he'd won something.

You kicked his chair leg under the desk in retaliation, sending him wobbling sideways with a yelp.

Working with Jisung turned out to be - annoyingly - far less painful than you’d anticipated.

He had a way of cutting through your overthinking, dismantling problems you’d tangled into knots. When you got stuck on a statistical analysis, he spun his laptop around to show you a ridiculously simplified formula that somehow worked.

When he hit a dead end with the literature review, you pointed him toward three obscure sources he’d missed. It was infuriatingly efficient.

you'd also grew to realize that Jisung focused when it mattered.

Then there were the snacks. Jisung kept shoving food at you - convenience store food, but its the thought that counts “Eat,” he’d say, nudging a bar of chocolate toward you without looking up. “Your blood sugar’s crashing. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

You’d protest, but he wouldn't hear any of it until you tore open the packaging begrudgingly.

and he actually remembered things. Tiny, insignificant details you’d mentioned in passing - your preference for blue pens over black, the way you organized your citations, the fact that you always forgot to save drafts until it was too late.

Halfway through typing, your laptop would ding with a message from him You didn’t save again, genius. You’d glare at him, but he’d already be smirking at his own screen.

You didn't expect to bond with Chan and Changbin too, but somehow their apartment became your second home for the past 6 weeks.

you stayed past 10 pm once, Chan slid a takeout menu across the table. "Pick something," he said, "Jisung forgets to eat when he's focused, and you're worse than he is."

The takeout containers were long empty by the time you stretched your arms over your head, joints popping from hours hunched over textbooks.

"You should head back," His voice was casual, but his eyes flicked to the time on his phone, 11:47 PM, then back to your face. "It's late."

You sighed, gathering your notes into a pile. "I've walked home later than this."

"Yeah, and nearly got followed by drunk assholes," Jisung muttered under his breath.

"I'll be fine. It's like, twelve minutes max." You slung the strap over your shoulder.

"at least let me walk you home?" jisung asked.

"Relax. you don't have to act like my hero for the night, i'll be fine."

jisung heard the word "hero" and an idea popped into his mind. bingo

"Fine. Die in a dark alley. See if I care."

"You won't," you shot back, toeing on your shoes by the door.

"Night, guys," you called over your shoulder as you stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind you.

Inside the apartment, Jisung was already running to put his suit on before Chan caught him by the hood. "Are you serious right now?"

"I'm just gonna-" Jisung started.

"Follow her as Spiderman?" Changbin supplied, "Dude. That's creepy."

Jisung froze. "It's not creepy if I'm making sure she doesn't get murdered."

"It's extremely creepy."

"She literally said she didn't need an escort!" Changbin pointed out.

Jisung waved a hand. "She always says that."

"Because you always try to escort her!"

Jisung hesitated, just long enough for Chan to sigh and release his hood. "If you're gonna be an idiot, at least put the mask on first."

Changbin tossed a web shooter at Jisung's head. "And try not to get arrested for stalking."

Outside, you were halfway down the block when a shadow flickered across the streetlight above you. You glanced up just in time to see a blur of red and blue vanish behind a rooftop.

"Really?"

A thwip sounded overhead. Spiderman landed lightly on a lamppost ahead of you, "Fancy meeting you here," he said, voice dripping with faux surprise.

You crossed your arms. "Are you following me?"

Spiderman gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm patrolling. This is a coincidence."

"A coincidence," you deadpanned.

"Yep." He swung down to street level, falling into step beside you like this was completely normal. "Totally random."

You sighed. "I don't need an escort."

Spiderman tilted his head. "Says the person who nearly got jumped last time."

"That was one time-"

"And here I am," he said, spreading his arms wide, " not letting it happen again."

You glared at him. He smiled at you - or at least, the mask's eyes crinkled in a way that suggested a smile.

"Fine," you muttered, stomping ahead.

Spiderman matched your stomping pace, "So," he drawled, swinging around a lamppost to land directly in front of you, forcing you to halt mid step or you'd have walked straight into his chest. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out so late?"

Your ears burned "I was just coming back from a friend’s place," you muttered, sidestepping him to continue walking. "Working on a project. Unlike some people, I actually take my education seriously."

Oh the irony.

he fell into step beside you, his posture casual, "So this friend," he pressed, "What's their deal? Study buddy? Secret admirer?"

You shot him a glare. "None of your business."

Spiderman gasped, "Ouch. And here I thought we had something special." He swung ahead, landing lightly on a parked car’s roof just to force you to look up at him. "Come on, humor me. Tall? Short? cute?"

You stayed silent, refusing to dignify that with an answer. But Spiderman was nothing if not persistent, he dropped down directly in your path again, close enough that the lenses of his mask reflected your exasperated expression back at you.

"Han Jisung," you finally said, shoving past him. "My project partner. Happy?"

"Han Jisung," he repeated, "Wow. Sounds like a real catch. Bet he’s incredibly handsome and talented."

"He’s annoying," you corrected, kicking a pebble harder than necessary. "And arrogant. And-"

"And?" Spiderman prompted, suddenly right beside you again.

"And none of your concern," you finished through gritted teeth.

Spiderman made a wounded noise, "Rude. Here I am, risking life and limb to escort you safely home-"

"You invited yourself," you corrected.

"-and you won’t even indulge my harmless curiosity about your mysterious project partner." He swung ahead to perch upside down from a streetlight, "Tell me more about this Han Jisung character. Does he have any redeeming qualities? Or is he just tragically, devastatingly handsome?"

You scoffed, refusing to acknowledge how accurately that described Jisung’s stupid face. "Fine. Jisung’s... not completely terrible." You looked at the sidewalk. "He remembers stupid things. Like how I always forget to save my work, or that I hate when people highlight in yellow."

Spiderman’s mask tilted, the lenses narrowing slightly. "Wow," he said, his tone an exaggerated awe. "Truly, a monumental compliment. Does he also breathe air and occasionally blink?"

You kicked a pebble at him, which he caught mid air with a web before it could hit his chest.

"Shut up. He’s..." You hesitated, then sighed. "He’s weirdly considerate. Makes sure I eat when we’re studying. And his roommates are..." You gestured vaguely, as if that explained anything. "nice. more tolerable than him, actually. they insist on feeding me too"

Spiderman went suspiciously quiet. Then, in a voice devoid of sarcasm "They sound nice."

You snorted. "They’re menaces. But yeah. They... grew on me."

A beat of silence. Then Spider-Man dropped from the lamppost, landing softly beside you. "And Jisung?" he prompted, suddenly closer than before. "What’s his fatal flaw?"

You didn’t even have to think. "He's always right somehow. And he gloats about it. alot."

"Horrifying," he agreed solemnly. "Anything else?"

"He’s always there," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "Even when I wish he wasn’t."

The mask hid his expression, but his next words came out oddly soft. "Sounds like you’ve got it pretty bad, genius."

The familiar nickname prickled at the back of your memory, but you couldn't place it, until Spiderman abruptly straightened, realizing his mistake, clearing his throat.

"So!" he said, "How much further to your dorm?"

You narrowed your eyes at the obvious subject change. "Why? Getting tired already?"

Spiderman scoffed, "Please. I could do this all night." then shrugged "Just making conversation."

"You were doing just fine until the nickname," you pointed out, watching his lenses widen fractionally.

"What nickname?" he asked, voice pitching slightly higher.

"Genius." You tilted your head, studying his frozen posture. "Jisung calls me that."

spiderman got into character again, "Jisung calls you that?" His voice was pitched an octave higher than usual, his hands fluttering in dramatic disbelief.

"Wow. What a coincidence." He leaned closer, "Maybe l'm Han Jisung. Ever think of that, genius?"

He lowkey regret what he said the second the words came out of his mouth. but hey, reverse psychology?

you stopped walking for a second, facing spiderman, genuinely considering what he just said.

"nah" you snorted, shaking your head. "Jisung can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over his own feet." You gestured vaguely at Spiderman's lithe posture. "No way that disaster could pull off... whatever this is."

"Ouch. That hurts. I'll have you know some people find my-" he gestured at himself, "this extremely charming."

"You mean annoying," you corrected.

"Charmingly annoying," Spiderman corrected, He swung lazily ahead, landing atop the lamppost outside your dorm building.

You stopped beneath the lamppost, glancing up at Spiderman’s silhouette squatting on top of it. "This your stop, genius?" he asked, voice lilting with amusement.

"Yes," you said flatly. "And don't call me that."

"Call you what? Genius?" He leaned forward, resting his chin in one gloved hand. "Or pretty girl?"

Your face heated instantly. "Both."

Spiderman laughed, a sound that you swear you heard before.

"Fine, fine. Wouldn't want to inflate your ego too much." He swung down from the lamppost.

He turned to leave, then hesitated, just long enough to glance over his shoulder and add, voice softer than before, "Sleep tight, pretty girl."

Then he was gone, vanishing into the night sky with a thwip of webbing before you could retaliate.

you stayed glued to the pavement for a minute as you watched spiderman's figure get smaller the more he swung away, face slowly heating up.

"Talking 'bout some pretty girl," you muttered under your breath, walking to the entrance of the building

who is this guy?

~

a/n: *takes in a big deep breath* I initially meant for this to be way shorter (10k ish words) but it kinda spiraled and now its more than double that so I had to split it into two parts 😞. the second part is ready just needs proofreading and a few tweaks. hope it doesn't disappoint because I put my entire coochie and butt into this.

[linophobic]

oh, long-haired han jisung, we meet again

[straykidsmedia]

[straykidsmedia]

[linophobic]

i have this wip from another fandom that i love but then he retired so i shelved it…i might repurpose it for mh

[papawolfchris]

[seo--changbin]

Fuck Around and Find Out

agreeing to your best friend's idea of being friends with benefits sounded like a good idea at first, that is until the line between being just friends and something more is starting to blur. So what do you do in this situation? Fuck around and find out.

PAIRINGS: Lee Know x fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (multiple smut scenes[just 2 actually]), Angst (Hurt and Comfort)

TROPES: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, non-idol au

GENERAL WARNINGS: mentions and depictions of alcohol, use of foul language, angst but its not too major actually it won't make you cry i promise, minho being confusing af, portrayals of jealousy in both parties

CONTAINS: changbin special cameo, some funny bits and playful banter

WORD COUNT: 11,309k and 20 google docs pages later

AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you so much to my dear snail anonnie for commissioning me this fic! I apologize that it took too long to post it but here it is!

smut warnings beneath the cut!

SMUT WARNINGS: piv, implied d/s dynamics, oral (f. rec), fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), bunch of dirty talking, o creampies, piss

Familiar calloused hands roam across the expanse of your back, the one you’ve felt and held so many times over the past 8 years, his fingertips dragging against your supple skin underneath the fabric of your shirt just so he can feel you, before slinging an arm around your shoulder just so he can pull you against him. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing against the muscle until his digit slips in and against your wet tongue. 

“Fuck— always so good for me, angel.” 

Moans fill the four corners of your room, a mixture of yours and Minho’s as he takes you from behind. He pushes against you until you’re face down and ass up against him, chest still pressed against your back but your shirt that’s haphazardly bunched around your chest, the sole proof how much Minho was in a rush to get his dick inside your cunt, was the only barrier that’s keeping you from feeling his skin entirely. 

“Minho, shit— please. I-I’m gonna cum,” you gasped out before your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he suddenly slammed into you harshly before breathlessly muttering “I know, I know. I’m close too. Just a bit more, okay? You can hold it in for me, right?” 

Just thirty minutes ago, all Minho did was send you a quick ‘I’m coming over’ for you to know that you’ll end up how you are right now— half-naked, sweaty, and with the majority of your discarded clothes making a trail that leads toward your bedroom just because Minho was too impatient to even wait until you’ve properly close the front door to your apartment before he started kissing you. 

But that’s definitely something that’s not far from the norm. You’ve grown used to his… antics, well enough to know that the urgency and roughness he’s fucking you with right now tells you that he’s had a rough day and needed to release some steam.

You feel Minho’s ragged breaths against the skin of your neck before he starts to trail kisses up and down your shoulder, his right hand moving to lace it on top of yours while the other stays planted beside you, fully caging you in before his thrusts start to falter— the sudden intimate gesture making your heart beat even more rapidly against your ribcage and the familiar coil in your stomach to even tighten.

“Cum with me, angel. Come on, I need to feel you— fuck that’s it, good fucking girl.” 

You unravel around him easily and quickly, just like that, just like how it has always been, your fingers squeezing his own as you find your release with a silent scream, back arching against him as your thighs start to quiver from the intensity of your orgasm. 

Minho follows suit, pulling out just in time before he spills all over your ass and back, jerking himself off to completion with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He practically collapses on top of you soon after with heavy labored breaths, no longer caring if he smears himself with his own release because of how hard he came. 

The sudden heavy weight on your back caused you to squeal in surprise, the air practically getting knocked out of your lungs. “Minho, get off me! You’re fucking heavy!” you grunt out, using your wobbly arms to lift your own body in hopes that you could shake him off but Minho being the menace he is, made himself heavier by putting all of his body weight on top of you, making your arms give in so you land back on the mattress face first with an ‘oof’. 

“Give me just a few more minutes,” he simply sighs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he finds the audacity to get himself comfortable on top of you and close his eyes. “Minho, get off now! I can feel your sweat dripping on me, it’s disgusting!” You protest, swatting him as best as you can from your position until he groans in annoyance as if you’re the one who’s bothering him and not the other way around. 

“Okay, okay! Jesus,” he says, finally pushing himself off you with a chuckle, and you practically groan in relief, pushing yourself up so you can properly turn your whole body just to give him a glare. “Don’t look at me like that. You think fucking is easy? It’s tiring as fuck,” he says, moving to get the towel that’s conveniently placed on your bedside table. “Try being in my shoes for once, maybe then you’d understand.” 

“If you want me to peg you, you can just ask,” you snarkily reply as you snatch the towel from his hands, wiping yourself clean before throwing it back right at his face. 

“Oh, come on! My cum is on this towel!” you merely snicker at his complaint as you stood up, already imagining the way he’s probably glaring at you like an angry cut with disgust all over his face. “It literally came out of you, stop acting so disgusted,” you reply, turning around to face him with your arms folded across your chest, leaning against the wall for support as you watch him (begrudgingly) wipe himself clean before he stands up to toss the soiled towel into the hamper. 

The two of you fall into a familiar routine soon after, Minho leading you toward your bathroom to shower together under the guise of saving more water when in reality, contrary to popular belief, it’s his own simple way of giving you aftercare. 

You and Minho have known each other for God knows how long. He used to sport a bowl cut back in high school and these thickly framed glasses that made him look more like a loser if anything, which was also the reason why he’s always being made fun of. That’s where you come in, an equally weird young girl who just moved into town, saving his ass from a group of bullies who broke his glasses and dumped toilet water on him. Needless to say, those boys who hurt Minho that day went home barefoot with broken bicycles and with an equally wet uniform after you hosed them down at the school garden and threatened them with a baseball bat. That very same day, you gained a new friend. 

And then that said friend, years later, proposes the most preposterous idea ever known to man.

“Do you wanna be friends with benefits?”

You thought that he was just kidding, that he was just randomly blurting out whatever kind of stupid idea that popped into his head impulsively and unabashedly like he always has, but he never followed that question with an ‘I’m just joking, you should have seen the look on your face’. That night, despite having a few drinks in his system (because you were celebrating the end of one hell of a semester), you realized that he was serious because he was looking at you dead in the eye without a single glint of mischief in his eye.

Now, you weren’t purely against the idea of hooking up. At that time, you’ve never even had a good lay because of how busy you got and definitely (not) because of how the last guys you’ve ever dated had a seriously bad dick (and head) game. But this was Minho you’re talking about. A friend you’ve had since you were in braces. The guy you were thick as thieves with. 

“Come on, it can’t be that bad, right? No strings attached. Just fucking and friendship. What do you say?” 

Just fucking and friendship. Your friendship. As if that’s something so easy to risk. 

“Will this change things between us?” 

“Aside from giving you the best sex of your life, I don’t think so.”  

It’s been six months since you’ve had that conversation with him, six months since he’s given you the best head of your life that had you agreeing to the whole setup despite your reservations.

His rules are fairly simple: No falling in love, no catching feelings— which, at the time, sounded like ABC’s to you.

But now? Six months in? 

You must have underestimated yourself into thinking that there’s no way you’ll be falling in love with Minho. Him? Out of all people? The guy who literally farts in his hand just to throw it on your face? No fucking way. You’ve hooked up with other people more than once just for shits and giggles and you have never caught any feelings. There’s no way you’ll mess up this bad, right? 

Wrong. 

Because those 6 months sleeping with your best friend had you seeing him in a whole different light. 

At first, it was all purely sexual and lust-driven, fuelled by desire as he gave you mind-blowing orgasms after mind-blowing orgasms. Minho made you feel things no other sexual partner ever could, it just so happens he also made you feel more than just things. 

Maybe it’s because of the sex, or how easy it is to be around him even after fucking, how weirdly normal everything seems to be even though friends aren’t supposed to see each other naked in the first place. Maybe it’s because of how he can kiss you as if he’s chasing air and you’re his only source of oxygen but at the same time kiss you as if you’re the most delicate being on earth. Or perhaps it’s the fact that when Minho sleeps the night, you can expect him to still be there in the morning, a protective arm strewn across your waist that tightens the moment you try to move away from him. Maybe it’s the sleepy kisses he places on your bare skin as he slowly wakes up, the kisses that start on your shoulder then to your nape, neck, and eventually to your lips. Maybe it’s the way he knows how to gently hold you as you stay buried beneath the sheets on a cold rainy night, his hands that had been all roughed up because of all the boxing he does as a hobby safely tucked underneath your shirt just to keep his hand warm while the two of you talk about whatever comes into mind without the expectations of sex. 

You have no idea which was it, what specific thing he did that had you suddenly waking up in the middle of the night with cold sweat because you realized that you were slowly falling for your best friend, the one you agreed to not fall in love with. Honestly, you’d be lying if you didn’t say you saw this disaster from a mile away. But you really just had to fuck around and find out. 

So now, as Minho lathers up your hair with your shampoo, talking about the most mundane things in life (specifically how he’s planning to buy his cats new cat toys just because), you’re too busy focusing on how good it feels to have his fingers gently work their way through your hair, lathering up the shampoo as he massages your scalp. He looks so serious while doing it too, never missing a beat even when he’s knee-deep into telling you what his plans were for the weekend, and for some reason it only made him look even more attractive. 

Would you look at that? Who knew you’d live long enough to admit that your friend is indeed handsome, that you’re now understanding why he has so many girls falling for him?

But that’s a crisis that you’ll have to worry about for another day. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him right? 

---

Okay. Maybe it is true that what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, but it will certainly hurt you because the next day before you can even pick up some coffee at your favorite cafe after your first class, you see that Minho is already inside. Talking to another woman. On a circular table. Sitting face to face. And he’s drinking coffee. 

Minho doesn’t even like coffee.

Which could mean only one thing… he’s on a date.

A funny feeling washes over you, one that has your insides churning and swirling around in a bad way as ice spreads through your veins as you watch them together, talking about god knows what. Probably something so funny that had them laughing so hard with their heads tipped back. 

What on earth could be something so funny? You can make Minho laugh just as ha—

Oh no.

Everything inside your head clicked. You’re jealous.

Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Hell to the fuck no. 

Random strangers on the street probably think you’re crazy with the way you're running your hands through your hair and face as you pace back and forth in front of the cafe, but you could care less about the odd looks they give you. 

There’s no fucking way you could be jealous, it’s not like you like like him right?

Wrong. The bitter pit in your stomach tells you otherwise. 

“Okay, okay… focus,” you told yourself as you took deep breaths, settling yourself first as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You glance toward their table once again, seeing that they’re still there, and judging by the way the woman’s cheesecake isn’t even half finished yet, they won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Great. Just great.

Seeing that you can’t properly function the day without coffee and that this is the only cafe that can somehow make your order just the way you like it, you resorted to just quickly placing an order, getting your coffee, and leaving as soon as you can, praying that he wouldn’t notice you because the last thing you’d want (but really, it’s only because there’s no way you can face him and the girl who’s potentially his new girlfriend). 

Entering the cafe was the easy part because you were able to easily blend in with the other customers, which also meant that you’d be able to sneak glances toward their table without getting seen. 

They look happy. Even when Minho’s back was facing you, you could tell that he was having a great time judging by the way his shoulders didn’t look tense, and if drinking coffee wasn’t a dead giveaway that he really wanted to be here and spend time with this girl, then you don’t know what will.

Something about that just made you feel… sad? Or even heartbroken. You’ve never felt like this in a long time since your high school boyfriend dumped you for the cheerleader. The funny thing is, Minho was actually the first to come to your aid when that happened, rushing to your childhood home with some comfort snacks. It’s only ironic that the next heartbreak you feel is because of him. 

Having a friends-with-benefits relationship with the guy you’ve been close friends with for years is… not exactly ideal. It was a disaster in the making but what you didn’t anticipate was that you’d be taking the most damage. 

Right after placing your order, you made sure to stay close to the bar so that you’d be able to leave as soon as you got your coffee. That way, you’d be out of there in a flash as if you weren’t really there at all. 

But there’s one teeny tiny detail that you forgot that would spoil your plans. And that is…

“One medium hazelnut coffee for Y/n!” 

Great. Just great. 

The way the sound of you facepalming yourself could resonate throughout the whole cafe from how hard you slapped your hand on your face as you stood there frozen in sheer shock. Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, you really had to forget that the people here call out their customers’ names as soon as it was ready. 

“One medium hazelnut coffee—” 

“Me! That’s me. That’s– that’s my order. Thank you,” you hurriedly said, not giving the barista a chance to even say your name again while giving him an awkward sheepish smile as he handed you your drink. At this point, your heart is pounding against your chest, your own pulse ringing through your ears as you start to quickly walk away. 

You hope that Minho was too busy to even hear your n—

“Y/n?”

Just as you were about to grab for the door handle, you hear him, making you stop dead on your tracks with your hand sticking out in mid air.

“Y/n! Over here!”

Great mother of God, kill me now. 

You turn to face them by your heel, and you’re met with the sight of Minho waving you over.

Dread fills you as you realize that there’s no turning back now. You can’t just leave, especially when Minho just looks… so excited.

You offer them the best fake smile that you can muster as you walk toward them, pretending to be as shocked as they are that the two of you managed to be in the same cafe. 

“Minho, I didn’t know you were here,” you said awkwardly paired with an equally awkward of what was supposed to be a laugh of disbelief, a poor attempt to pretend that you didn’t saw them 15 minutes ago. 

“Y/n,” he says, standing up to greet you, his hand automatically coming up to rest on the midsection of your back. “Y/n, this is Sujie. Sujie, this is Y/n.” 

“Hello, Y/n! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” the woman, Sujie, greets you as she too stands up to shake your hand to which you politely accept, returning her warm sincere smile with a shy one. “I’ve heard so many things about you from Minho.” 

“All good things, I hope,” you reply with a soft giggle, your eyes raking all over her features. 

She looks like the embodiment of what every man wants. 

When she smiles, her eyes slightly disappear into crescent moons, a pair of dimples even appear on her cheeks too. Her hands are soft, the scent of the hand cream she uses lingers on your palms. She’s so soft spoken too, as if she has never yelled at anyone in their entire life. She just radiates so much warm energy, it’s making you start to feel bad to even feel so jealous toward someone who’s a personified sunshine. 

“Would you like to sit with us? I can get us a spare chair, hold on—” it feels so foreign seeing Minho act so civil and formal around you as if he didn’t spend the whole night yesterday rearranging your guts. 

“Ah, no need. I was about to go anyway. Besides, I don’t want to ruin your moment so…” you immediately tell him as you start to slowly back away. 

You needed to leave. Quick. Because you start to feel that familiar lump in your throat and the sting in your eyes. 

“Are you sure? I haven’t—” 

“Mmmhmm, yup! Yes– I-uh… I got a report coming up— yes! A report, yes. So I gotta go.” You say sheepishly, even stumbling on some of your words as you pull a lousy excuse. 

“Y/n—” 

“I’m sorry, I just… I just really gotta go now. But we’ll catch up next time, yeah? Bye!”              

Minho continues to call for you even as you walk away, not even sparing another glance toward the two leaving him consumed with both confusion and worry. 

The moment you exit the cafe you started to run as fast as you could, blinking away the tears that were starting to gather from your eyes. 

You feel so stupid for even crying over this, you don’t even know why you felt the need to even cry. 

Yet the hurt that seems to seep deeper into your heart every time you remember them being together is only making the tears you’re shedding make more sense. 

Minho > hey y/n-ah y did u leave so quick? > u even left urcoffee here dumbass > sujie was wondering why u left the cafe looking like u saw a ghost lol > can i come over later? > hello? *2 missed calls, 1 missed video chat

Minho> y/n > y/n > y/n > are you ignoring meeeee??????? > yah y arent u picking up my calls? >dont b rude stop leaving me on read *10 missed calls, 3 missed video chats

Minho> still leaving me on read?? srsly??? > can i come over? > y/n ur avoiding me arent u > i literally saw u turn around the other way the moment u saw me in the hallway > did i do smthn wrong? > whatever it was im srry > y/n > it’s been three days pls pick up the phone *30 missed calls, 5 missed video chats

Minho> I’m coming over. > Whether you like it or not. > We need to talk. *1 missed call

You stare at Minho’s last few messages in horror. You knew he’d come over sooner or later and that avoiding him would be no use. Locking him out of your apartment would do no good either since he has a spare key. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Embarrassment dawns on you once more as flashbacks of you leaving the cafe terrorize your mind. You kinda wanna throw yourself off a cliff or walk onto a busy highway and hope that a ten-wheeler drives you over just so you can end your misery, but alas there is no escape because not even 5 minutes later, you can already hear the familiar sound of your front door being unlocked, bringing you back down to the reality that you’d eventually have to face him.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” 

Minho looked like the way he did that one fateful morning, confused and worried, and maybe a little bit mad, but understandably so. 

“You’ve been ignoring me for days. Fucking days Y/n! I have no idea what has gotten into you or if I did something wrong for you to just avoid me.” 

“I know, I know,” you say apprehensively, still seated on the couch of your living room. “I’m sorry.” 

Minho only huffed at that, dumbfounded. “Sorry? That’s all you’re going to say?” 

“Min, please. Just calm down for—” 

“Calm down? Y/n I—” he takes a deep breath and runs his hands over his face as he starts to lightly pace around, trying to figure out the right words to say while keeping his temper down. “I can’t calm down, Y/n. You know why? It’s because my best friend for years decided to suddenly ignore me, ignore my calls and messages, leaving me on read, and mind you this went on for days. And for what reason? I don’t know! The only time I finally get to see you is when I physically brought my ass to your apartment.” 

You stare at him wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you try to find the right words to say, processing every single word he says with hurt in his voice. 

“How long did you plan on ignoring me? 5 days? A week? A month?”

“Minho—” 

“A year? Maybe a decade even—”

“Minho!”

“What?!” 

His chest heavily rises and falls as he finally stops pacing to finally look at you, his feline eyes filled with both anger and hurt as it look at your regretful ones.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ignored you like that,” is all you say, his eyes slowly softening at the sight of the tears welling in your eyes. But he still stays silent and huffs out a breath in an attempt to calm himself down, racking his mind through all the possible reasons why you’d do something like that.

“Then why?” He asks after what feels like years of deafening silence. “If you wanted time alone, you could have just told me.” 

“No, it’s-” you gulp, throwing your hand back against the couch as you press your palms against your eyes. Right. You have to eventually tell him sooner or later. “It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?”

He finally flops beside you on the couch, eyes glued to the ceiling as he rests his head against the soft cushion until… 

“Wait, you’re not pregnant are you?” 

You immediately turn to him and look at him as if he had grown another head in shock. “Pregna– no! God no, no! It’s not that. Jesus may he forbid it.” 

“Okay, so what’s the catch then?” 

You say nothing, staying tight-lipped as you were a few minutes ago, leaving Minho with nothing but silence once more. He rolls his eyes, but this time, there’s a small smile now gracing his lips. Everything was much calmer now than it was moments ago, nothing but the sound of both your breathing fills his ears. He doesn’t mind the silence now that he’s with you, seeing you, next to you, hearing you. Something he wasn’t able to do the last three days which, in his book, was torture enough. Sure, he missed sneakily making out with you in one of the old buildings around campus or perhaps skipping a class just so the two of you could fuck the stress out in the back of his car, but he also missed annoying your ears off,  reading your texts and hearing your voice, he missed grabbing a sub with you after your afternoon classes every Tuesday, and he missed taking naps with you in the library. 

So spending time with you right now even if it’s just like this after he last saw you at the cafe with Sujie then—

Wait a minute. 

The last time he saw you was at the cafe with Sujie. 

Sujie.

“Y/n.” He calls out, making you reply with an annoyed “Yes?” 

“You’re not… jealous, are you?” 

Again, you turn to look at him so fast, it almost breaks your neck. “What? Me? Jealous? Are you out of your mind?!” You abruptly stand up, quickly making your way toward your kitchen to get a glass of cold water. You weren’t even thirsty, but you knew that if you stayed a second longer on that couch, you felt like you were going to explode. “Who would I have to be jealous of in the first place?” 

“Sujie, the girl from the cafe. Come on, Y/n. I know you,” he says, following you with this stupidly handsome grin on his face. “And I know you didn’t have a report that day, you would have told me the day before. So I know you just made that up as an excuse to leave.”

The cold water going down your suddenly-dry throat was like a kick to the gut. Curse Minho and the years you’ve spent time together. Of course, he’d figure it out. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Hm. I’m pretty sure you do.” 

Minho traps you with his arms planted on either side of you, leaving you trapped behind him and against the marble counter, his lips ghosting against your ear, brushing against the shell as he speaks. 

“And for all I know, you’ve always been a terrible liar.” 

Goosebumps erupt from your skin when he starts lightly kissing your neck as he presses himself against you, feeling his growing bulge against your ass. “You don’t have to feel so jealous of her, baby.” 

“Minho—” your words were cut off with a gasp as you felt his teeth nip against that one sensitive spot by your ear. 

“You know I only want you.” His hands find your hips, his fingers dipping under your shirt just to feel your soft skin. His warm breath against your skin sends tingles across your body, especially when you feel his hands softly rubbing against your stomach while the other is dangerously drawing closer to your breasts.

“I won’t find anyone else when you’re always so, so good to me.” 

“M-Minho, wait,” you say, but it only falls on deaf ears. He continues to kiss your neck and your shoulder even when you still had your shirt on, the hand that was by your stomach was now moving toward the hem of your shorts, toying with the elastic before slowly slipping each of his fingers inside. 

“She’s no one, you don’t have to worry about her, yeah?” 

“Min…” you feel him graze against your mound, raking his fingers against the hairs that would make your knees buckle if it were any other day, and give in, let him take you then and there. But this isn’t what you wanted, not right now, despite the fact that you’re probably dripping into your panties at this point. 

“Minho,” you say his name a bit firmer this time, and your body almost screams the moment you pull yourself away from him, twisting your body so you can properly face him and add some distance. “Min, please.” 

He pulls his hands away from your body almost immediately, backing up just a bit with concern lacing his features. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing, just,” you gulp, fixing the stray hairs from your face. “Is this about Sujie?” Minho asks, his voice serious but tone soft enough to offer some semblance of reassurance. When you didn’t say anything, opting to just stay silent while you looked anywhere but his eyes, he took that as a yes. “Look, I’m not sleeping with her, alright? So if you’re worrying about me not being clean—” 

“Minho, God no, it’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” His words come out a bit harsher than intended. But can you blame him? His patience is already running thin because you just can’t seem to get straight to the point, keeping him on edge. “I just don’t understand why you’re so jealous of Sujie when she’s just a frie—” 

“It’s because I like you, okay?!” 

Feeling as if the world stood still would be an understatement the moment you blurted those words out. Minho was just as shocked as you were, seeing as his eyes were just as wide as yours in utter disbelief. The shared silence between the two of you was far more uncomfortable this time around as you waited for him to say something, anything. But all he gave you was the rapid blinking he always does when he’s trying to make sense of this, big boba eyes looking at yours as he tries to figure out if you’re being serious or not. 

“Is that it?” he mutters out. “That’s the reason why you’ve avoided me for days? It’s because you like me?” 

“Why are you repeating it like it’s such a bad thing?”

“It’s not, it’s just…” he shakes his head, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “I don’t think we’re supposed to… you know… catch feelings.”

What he said made you raise a brow, head tilting to the side as you were hit with the irony of it all. “And friends aren’t supposed to fuck each other but here we are,” you scoff out, pushing down the sudden bitter feeling that had your hands feeling ice cold. 

“Okay, that’s a different thing. We’re talking about falling in love here,” Minho replies, sounding a bit more defensive than before as he puts his hands in front of him as if he’s trying to make a point. “And why is that such a bad thing?” You ask back, trying to mask the hurt in your voice and staying composed, putting your hands against the counter behind you. 

“Because…” he breathes out, and you see the way he’s starting to hesitate, contemplating on the right words to say.  “I just don’t think we’re on the same page.”

Your hands grasp the counter tighter at that. 

“Minho, we’ve known each other since we were teens. It’s not like I’m a stranger or anything,” you say with a chuckle of disbelief, your voice almost pleading as you try to search for his eyes, looking for something; a spark maybe, the same light in your eyes every time you get to be with him, or perhaps some warmth? 

“Come on, Min.” You inch closer to him, pushing yourself off the marble just so you can see him eye to eye with tears that you can no longer control, already brimming on your waterline. “I can’t be the only one who’s feeling this way.” 

Your gaze travels all over his features as you reach out to hold his face— to the crinkle of his forehead to the faint smile lines by his eyes, the subtle texture on the skin of his nose, trying to memorize every single detail because this may be the last time you’ll be able to see him like this— quiet and vulnerable, a side he doesn’t normally show to anyone else but you. 

He stays silent, and you hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance, a miracle perhaps. 

“I’m sorry, I-I don’t think I can.”

He places his hand on top of yours, thumbing at your skin as he leans into your touch, his eyes filled with nothing but regret. “I’m sorry.”

Dread fills you the moment you hear those words, your throat suddenly going dry as silent tears finally stream down your face. “Do you not love me, Min?” Your voice sounding so broken only breaks Minho’s heart more, swallowing the bile that threatens to spill from his lips at the thought of hurting you this way. 

“Come on, say it. Say it straight to my face,” you say through your sobs. “Tell me, Min. Please, so I can start moving on from you. Please” 

“I…” He starts to remove your hands from his face, his grip remaining firm as he holds you.  “I’m sorry but I just… I don’t think we can continue doing this anymore.” He says. “This friends-with-benefits thing, I don’t think it was a good idea.” Finally, he lets go of your hand, letting you to finally wipe the tears from your face with a bitter chuckle. “You think?” 

“Fuck around and find out, right?” 

---

The club feels stuffy, especially when it’s packed with drunk people. You should know that by now, should have trusted your gut and and just stayed at home, but did you listen? Nope, not at all, but this guy that you just met, who goes by the name ‘Changbin', was at least making this a little more tolerable. He’s a pretty nice guy, ordering you your drinks and keeping you company while the friends that you came with were no longer to be found. The last time you’ve seen them was when they left to go to the dancefloor, easily getting lost in the sea of bodies dancing with the rhythm of the loud music that only makes your ears ring, yet the sound of Changbin’s laughter as you tell him an embarrassing joke back when you were in 5th grade still sounds clear as glass in your ears. 

He’s charming with a dimpled smile, hella ripped too. Have you seen the size of that man’s biceps? Truly delectable. 

But there’s one thing that you also couldn’t ignore tonight, and that is the feeling of being watched. Normally, that would ring some alarm bells in your head, but the familiar silhouette of a man from the corner of your eye lets you know that Changbin’s attention is not the only thing you’ve attracted tonight.

It’s him.

You take a sip from your drink before letting your vision fly elsewhere, looking for that one person who’s been burning holes in the back of your head the whole evening.

There, you find him standing at the corner a few feet away from you, Minho with his own drink in hand, sharp feline-like eyes never leaving yours as he takes a sip from his cup, watching you intently like a hawk.

This was the first time you had seen him after what happened a few weeks ago, having no contact with him since that day. So seeing him here was definitely a surprise. Out of every club available in the city, he just really had to go to this one. 

You have no idea how long he’s been standing there or when he even got here, and despite the club being almost dark save for the strobe lights, you know fully well that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. The irony of how the tables have turned makes you wanna scoff. 

You couldn’t care less if he’s pissed, not when you guys weren’t and aren’t together in the first place. So feeling guilty for entertaining a potential lay who isn’t him is definitely out of the table.

But Minho’s here, watching you flirt with the muscular guy from afar (squeezing his biceps too while you’re at it), getting a taste of his own medicine. Might as well piss him off a bit more. 

Besides, there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“Wanna dance with me, Changbin?”

The muscled man didn’t need much convincing, readily offering his hand to you with a smile, helping you off the bar stool before leading you toward the dancefloor. Heat spreads on your cheeks when Changbin guides you through the crowd with a protective arm around your waist until you reach the center, the bass of the upbeat music reverberates through your body. 

With a few drinks in your system, you don't hesitate to dance right away, feeling the music and the energy while Changbin joins in on the fun, watching you move your body while he has his hands on your hips helping you sway before he twirls you around and pulls you against his sturdy chest. 

You close your eyes just for a bit, opting to just let your worries fade away into the back of your brain even if it’s just for tonight. Who cares if Minho is here? He can go fuck himself. It’s about time you move on from him anyway, especially when he made it very clear that you and he are just simply meant to be, something you couldn’t fully stomach a few weeks ago because not only have you lost someone you’ve been intimate with, for lack of better word, you also lost a friend and the years of friendship with it. All that down the drain just because you thought that acting on your feelings was the right idea. 

But tonight is not about that. Tonight, you’re going to redeem yourself and turn over a new leaf. 

Body grinding against body, Changbin handling you well would be an understatement. His touches were respectable enough to not raise a few flags but curious enough to set butterflies flying all over your tummy, his head by your neck breathing in your scent. He’s grown confident enough to breathe against your skin, even smile against it when you giggle every time his fingers wander down your ticklish sides.

“Wanna get another drink before we go somewhere more private?” he asks, his voice sounding way deeper than usual. You smile when he starts peppering kisses on your neck while your arms reach behind you to play with his hair and touch his face, goosebumps rising from your skin at the feeling. “Make it quick then,” you simply reply. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.” 

Changbin plants one final kiss before leaving, whispering a quick “I’ll be right back” before disappearing, leaving you alone on the dance floor.

You took the time to enjoy the alone time, fixing your hair and smoothing your dress just before your date for the night comes back, hoping that your makeup is still intact after sweating a bit due to the heat (which, then again, solidifies why you hate packed clubs because it makes the whole place hotter with the number of sweaty bodies. 

But not even a few minutes later, you felt a pair of hands on your waist once again, and thinking it was Changbin, you placed your hands on top of it and giggled. “Back so soon?” you teased, pressing your body against his chest. “Looks like someone’s eager to get out of here.” 

“Yeah, no doubt about that, angel.” 

The familiar voice almost made your stomach drop, your eyes widening in surprise as you pushed yourself off the person behind you. “What the—”

That wasn’t Changbin. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/n.”  

It was Minho. 

“What are you doing here?!” you said, totally freaked out. “What am I doing here? I honestly have no idea why you’re acting so surprised when you literally saw me a while ago.” Despite the dizzying strobe lights, you can still see his signature smug look, a smirk plastered on his lips that you so desperately wanted to wipe off. 

“Yeah but—” you sputtered, “that’s beside the point! What are you doing here?” 

“The same reason why you’re here,” Minho simply says, his hands moving to hold you again but you just shrugged him off, infuriated at the fact that he could just come here and show himself as if nothing happened. “Are you following me or something?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. Me seeing you here is purely just a coincidence,” he scoffs out, this time tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, and this time, you let him, momentarily sidetracked by the way he eyed you up and down. “But you are right about one thing though.” 

“And what would that be?” The way his eyes simply locked with yours managed to spread heat all over your body, and the familiarity that it holds, something that you haven’t seen in a long time, something that you’ve missed, was enough to make your walls crumble, so much so you let him wrap an arm around your waist just so he could pull you closer to him, close enough to have his breath fanning against your lips and your noses touch. 

“That I am eager to get the fuck out of here and preferably with you.” 

Leaning in to kiss him seems like the easier choice for you right now, especially when temptation itself presents itself to you wearing a button-up top and matching faux leather jeans and jacket with the name Lee Minho written on its birth certificate, but you can’t let yourself give in right now, not when your resolve is too high for you to just let go.

“I’m sorry but I—”

“I didn’t ask you a question. We’re both leaving. Right now.” 

It was as if the air around you went still the moment you realized he was serious. Gone was the mischief playing in his eyes, gone was his smile. All that’s left is a shell of the man that Minho used to be, replaced by a side of him that completely screams territorial and jealousy.

You didn’t even have the chance to say anything because he’s already moving with you in tow, your dumb silly legs having a mind of their own because you were already letting yourself get dragged through the crowd. After all, whether you admit it or not, this is what you wanted. 

“B-but what about Changbin?” you shout against the loud music and all you got from him was a fierce “He can go fuck himself.” 

Minho was quick to move, leading you outside by your wrist until you found yourself in the club’s parking area, the cool night air helping you to sober you up and realize what was going on. 

“Minho, wait—” you said, tugging against his grip, some self-restraint that’s left in you telling you that this isn’t a good idea, that going home with Minho tonight won’t change anything and could possibly make it worse, but just like before, he doesn’t listen, only tightening his grip until it starts to become uncomfortable. 

“Minho,” you call out again, digging your heels against the payment to add more weight so that he could at least stop and look at you, tell you whatever is running in that head of his, or give you at least some sort of clarity where all this would lead to. “Minho, can you just stop for a sec?” 

This scenario feels oddly familiar, reminding you of that day that altered the course of your life significantly. He’s still so stubborn, a trait of his that never changed, and he’s still too mysterious, and unreadable at times to the point where you can’t seem to understand him at all. Just like right now. 

“Minho, you’re hurting me!” 

Only then did Minho stop, seemingly snapping out of his own thoughts as he finally turned to look at you, his grip now slowly loosening around your wrist, and his eyes now looking at you apologetically.

“What the fuck is this even all about?!” You said, puffing with anger and looking at him incredulously and utterly confused as you pulled your hand away from him. “Why did you just suddenly decide that it’s a good fucking idea to drag me out of the club and steal me away from my date?!” 

“You call that a date? You barely know the guy!” Minho replied with a scoff, shoving his hands into his pockets, acting as if he just made a valid point which only made you want to strangle him until he lost his breath. 

“Who the fuck cares!” you grit out, arms thrown out in the air almost comically. “I’m only trying to fuck him anyway, not marry him!” Your finger points at him, using it to shove him in the chest. 

“Besides,” a shove. “I can date and talk to whoever the fuck I want,” another shove. “Because here’s news for you, Minho, we’re not together!” and another.  “We only fucked each other for mutual benefit and you decided to cut it off because, in your words, we’re not on the same page! So forgive me for fooling around with some guy I just met who isn’t you—” you tried to shove him again, but this time, he catches your hand and stops you before you could even do anything, his body inching closer to yours until your faces a inches apart, his eyes holding both anger and annoyance and perhaps a little bit of regret too because he knows damn well what you said was right, that he did said those words and now it’s all coming back to him to bite him on the bum. But he stays serious and doesn’t let the mean and tough demeanor melt away, not even just a bit.

“We both know that even if he did fuck you tonight, all you’re going to think about is me,” he confidently says, a faint ghost of a smirk decorating his lips. You feel yourself flush at his sudden declaration, eyes slightly widening at his words that are just straight-up vulgar but somehow it still struck on your arousal, a scenario of you under the buffer man’s body yet all you could remember were the nights you spent with Minho now being painted into your mind. It feels all too wrong yet you know he’s right. Perhaps only the gods would know how much you’d struggle to forget about him, and sleeping with another man even just for one night would do little to no help in doing that.  

“And we both know that you’re mine, angel. Always have been,” this time, Minho’s voice is a lot quieter, almost sounding like a whisper as his face now so close to yours you could feel your breaths mixing together, your noses almost perfectly slotting side by side as he continues to peer into your eyes. “Your mind, your body, your soul. All mine.” 

You gulp, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as you fight back the sudden urge to just kiss him already just to shut him up, but you can’t because that would be simply proving his point, something you’d wanna put off from doing for now because your pride is too high for you to just give in, so you shut your eyes tight and took a deep breath, even when the feeling of his cold nose brush against your cheek made you shudder.

God, you so desperately wanna give in already.

“I’m not yours, Minho.” You said as firmly as you could, finally opening your eyes so that you could look at him with sheer determination. It seemed to work though, as something seemed to shift in Minho’s gaze, darkening as each second passed. 

Oh?

You’re familiar with this look, this side of him that had the kind of gaze that had you bursting with adrenaline and arousal before when you used to push his buttons until he got fed up with your bratty attitude. 

And right now, it still works on you, warmth spreading throughout your body as it yearns for his touch again, crumbling your resolve to bits. But you hold on to the very last bit of your sanity, wanting to drag it all out because that’s what you want, pushing his buttons and resisting to be under his control which would only make him want to take it back from you, show you who you belong too. Right now, it wouldn’t matter to Minho what he said before, he would take it back if he could as long as you get to be his again. 

Not that you have a problem with that, but since you’re petty for what he did, there’s no harm done in making him work for it even just a little bit more. 

“Oh? Do I need to remind you who you belong to?” He’d pick you up and sling you over his shoulder to bring you home if he could, but he can't, not until he sees you pick up on what he’s insinuating here which you definitely did. Right now, you have the choice to push him away again or take the bait. 

You stayed silent, your eyes never moving away from his, feeling his intense gaze wash all over your body.

“I don’t know,” you drag out, a small smile appearing on your face as you tilt your head to the side. “Maybe Changbin can remind me instead, he looks promising.” 

“Don’t you even dare say his name ever again—” 

“And what the fuck are you gonna do about it? Piss on me like a fucking dog marking its territory?”

There it is. His eyes narrow toward you and he sees the mischief sparkle in your eyes and hears the teasing undertone in your words. You just took the bait and are now dangling it right in front of him just to prove a point.

“Fuck around and find out, why don’t you?” 

---

The number of traffic violations Minho just committed as he drove you to his place was far too much to count, speeding through the empty streets just so he could get there faster and driving through a red light just so there’s no time wasted. It’s obvious how his patience has already run thin, his lips already crashing into yours the moment you step inside his apartment, tugging at each other’s article of clothing because the two of you can’t seem to bear the thought of not being able to feel more of the other’s skin.

As he pushes you against the door, his lips already sucking bruises on your neck, you manage to snake one of your hands to the front of his pants, palming his already hard cock which made him hiss against your skin. 

“Bedroom. Now.” You didn’t need to be told twice, already moving out of the way so you can head to his room, removing your heels in the process while Minho is already removing his leather jacket and leaving it lifelessly thrown at his living room floor. 

By the time you reach his room, he wastes no time pushing you onto his bed, making you land on your back before he climbs above you, kissing you again with so much heat and fervor. Tongue clashing against tongue, teeth mashing against teeth, you moan into his mouth when his hand cups one of your breasts into his hand, fondling and squeezing it almost impatiently against the fabric of your breast. 

A single nip of his teeth against your skin has you tugging on his top, desperately wanting to take it off of him just so you can already feel and touch his skin without a barrier of clothing separating your bodies.

“I thought you didn’t want me tonight?” Minho sarcastically quips, pulling himself away from you to help you untuck his top from his pants. “I thought you said you didn’t love me,” you reply just as quickly, impatiently unbuttoning his dress shirt until you decided that it was taking too long for your liking so you just tugged harshly against the fabric until the buttons get ripped out and fly everywhere the room, hitting the floor beneath. 

“For the record, I never said I didn’t love you,” says as he shrugs the now useless top off of him. “I only said that it isn’t working out for us anymore.” 

Now it was your turn to get undressed, Minho flipping you onto your stomach just so he could pull your zipper down your back, leaving you a few seconds just to ponder over what he said. “Yeah? But what’s the difference? All that sounds the same to me,” you said as you pushed yourself off the mattress just so you could slide your dress off, leaving only your undergarments on before throwing it on the floor.

“Now you’re just being dense,” Minho scoffs, unbuckling his belt while you lay back down, finally facing him again. “And you’re being confusing,” you snarkily reply, your hands reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He only rolls his eyes before a hand moves to grab your face, his fingers squeezing your cheeks. “Less talking, more kissing, yeah?”

True to his word, he starts kissing you again, releasing your face just so he can hurriedly pull his pants down while he shoves his tongue in your mouth, battling with yours with a quiet groan before moving to kiss and lick at your jaw and neck that had you whimpering while you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at it whenever you seem fit just to illicit another groan from him. 

He takes his time kissing you and sucking on your skin, adding more hickies to your neck and chest all the while he’s pulling on your bra straps to free one of your breasts just so he can pop a nipple in his mouth while he toys with the other using his fingers. He alternates between sucking on your tits to teasing your nipples with his tongue, occasionally nipping it too just to hear you hiss before trailing his kisses down your stomach then to your lower abdomen, just above your pubic bone while his fingers play with the elastic of your panties.

All the teasing he’s been doing goes straight to your core, a growing wet patch already forming in your panties, and if Minho ever saw it, he doesn’t comment on it, too focused on the way you’re already panting as if you’re out of breath like you’ve run a marathon when all you did was just make out. Not that he was doing any better, he’s already rock hard in his boxers, the tent all too prominent with the way the stretchy fabric morphs around his member as he sits on his knees just so he can slide your panties off of you. 

He spreads your legs just as quick, hissing at the way your wetness seems to glisten under the light, even close to salivating just by looking at it. “Fucking hell, angel,” Minho huffs out, immediately shifting his position so that he has each of your leg over his shoulder while he’s face to face with your cunt, fingers working its way through your folds, spreading the wetness all over until it’s messy enough for his liking or until he has you squirming beneath him, desperately needing his fingers inside you and on your clit. 

“Such a wet fucking cunt,” he briefly comments before lightly tapping on your clit. “You better drench my fucking face after this or else I’m not gonna fuck you. You hear me?” 

You reply with a simple hum, no longer trusting the sound of your own voice because may god forbid you hear how desperate you sound like right now, especially when he’s teasing you all the right places. A harsh bite to your thigh then pulls you out of your thoughts, making you yelp out from the sharp pain as you look down to where Minho is, only to be met by a glare. “Yapping your damn mouth all over the place earlier and now you can’t talk?”

Holy fuck.

His words only make you whine and make your pussy clench around nothing, a wave of arousal from the pit of your stomach washing through your body. God how you missed this, how you missed this side of Minho, the one that had you easily slipping into a more submissive headspace, the one that had you feeling needier than ever. 

“S-sorry,” you managed to stutter out, heat spreading on your cheeks from the sudden embarrassment. 

“So she does speak. Good.” Before you could even figure out how to respond to that, Minho pushes in two fingers right away, stretching out your hole and curling his fingers until he hits the spot that has your toes curling and you moaning out so sinfully. “You better tell me when you’re cumming then. Got that, angel?” 

“Y-yes, yes, I— fuck!” he starts fingering you before you could even finish what you were saying, the words dying on your tongue only to be replaced by your moans and the sounds of his fingers working their way in your pussy, wet slick noises accompanied by his occasional hums and grunts spurring you even more. Minho doesn’t even need to work that hard to figure out what makes you tick the most, having already memorized how your pussy works like the back of his palm. He has one of his thumbs rubbing firm circles on your clit while his fingers in your cunt massages against your sweet spot over and over again, making you literally see stars and have tears run down your face. The pleasure his fingers bring only seem to make your head swirl and your ears ring, effectively drowning out that isn’t Minho Minho Minho and the way he works his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt. 

By the time he puts in a third, he has his mouth on you, alternating from licking your pussy from bottom to top to wrapping his pretty lips around your clit. He had to taste you, especially after being away from you for so long, so excuse him when he replacing his fingers with his tongue, the strong muscle dipping into your walls just so he could taste you better, loves it when he feels you clench around it, loves it when you cry out his name when his fingers pinch your clit while he’s out it. It’s driving him delirious; your taste, your smell, your pussy, your moans, everything. 

“M-Minho, c-close— ah! —if you keep doing that, I-I’ll cum!” you warn him the best as you could, your fingers already tugging at his roots while you grind your cunt against him, chasing your high. And when you do cum, your whole body shakes from the intensity of it, convulsing beneath him like a leaf as you brokenly moan out his name while your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

It isn't until the overstimulation starts to kick in when you start to move against him, but he doesn’t budge, continuing to stimulate your core with his mouth as he laps at your juices, even using his arms to lock your legs over his shoulders in place. 

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, voice muffled against your cunt because he’s too into it now to move his mouth away. “Give me another then I’ll consider fucking your pussy.”

It’s when the sting of the overstimulation bleeds into pleasure that makes your whole body feel like putty, hearing nothing but static as he starts to build you up again for another orgasm which seemed quicker than the first. In no time, you’re clenching around him again, your back arching off the bed while the coil that’s wrapped up tightly in the pit of your stomach threatens to snap. The only time you unravel beneath him for the second time was when he presses his hand against your lower abdomen, the added pressure did nothing but to amp up to the pleasure against your sweet spot. 

“That’s it, angel. Fucking cum for me just like that, just like that, baby—” you feel warmth spread through you then out of you, squirting all over his wrist and his awaiting tongue, cumming for what feels like eternity as the pleasure of your release leaves you no concept of time.

Minho milks you through your orgasm, pulling out his fingers just so he could rub your wetness all over your cunt before he flips you to your stomach to puts a pillow underneath your hips for the perfect angle. 

“I’ll fuck you now, hmm? Squirted all over my face so now I’m gonna give you my cock, okay angel?” He makes quick work of ridding himself of his boxers, finally setting his cock free from its confines, and slides it between your ass and pussy, gathering as much wetness as it could before he slides in. He practically moans at the feeling of your walls swallowing his hard cock, the warm velvety muscle wrapping around the length of it, watching it from above as he slowly slides it in and out of your pussy with both of his hands on your hips. 

Your toes curl every time he pushes in, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. The pillow beneath you only made his cock slide against your sweet spot even more, hitting you just at the right angle that has you moaning against the sheets. 

“You feel so fucking good around me, angel,” Minho moans out, and you could almost imagine the way his head is thrown back in pleasure, exposing that pretty neck of his that you could just bite and mark up. Perhaps next time when you’re not absolutely getting your brains fucked out you’d take the chance. 

The moment Minho cages you in with his arms planted on each of your side, you know you’re gone. His thrusts had already sped up, his balls slapping against your swollen clit as the sound of skin against skin and slick echoes throughout the room. The extra stimulation of his cock perfectly hitting your sweet spot all thanks to the damned pillow beneath your stomach only brings you closer to your third release of the night. 

Minho isn’t too far off, the deprivation he felt for weeks of not feeling you is not catching up to him, but still he tries to fend off his orgasm until yours, his arms already shaking in effort. 

“You gotta come for me, angel. Wanna feel you cum around my cock,” he grunts out, his chest now pressed against your back as he fully cages you in, his lips dragging against the skin of your back before pressing kisses on your shoulders blades. “Need you to cum for me, sweetheart. I miss feeling you ‘round me.” 

He thrusts against you a few more times before he resorts to just grinding his cock against your walls, hissing at the way it rubs against him, even more so when you clench around him as you finally cum for the final time, tears spilling from your eyes due to the intensity of it. 

“Fucking hell, that’s it, baby. Oh shit— just clench around just like that, holy fuck—” he starts fucking you again, quickly thrusting into just so he could catch your high while he milks you through yours. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum in this pussy, got that?” he says breathlessly, pushing himself off of you just so he could grab your hips again, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Then I’m gonna fucking piss on you. Mark you all up like a stupid little mutt because you're mine. You’re my fucking territory. Mine.” 

You only whine at his words, too cock drunk to even figure out what he’s saying, mindlessly repeating his words back to him as you grip the sheets. “C-cum, piss—” you hiccup out. “M-Minho, need y-your cum, please.” 

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth and a few more harsh thrusts, he cums with a guttural groan, fingers tightly digging into your hips you’re sure there’d be bruises on your skin the next day. With every pump of his cum inside you, he shallowly thrusts inside you before he pulls out just to finish on your ass and back. Sputters of his seed was soon followed by a warm stream of his piss, relieving himself with a groan as he makes a mess all over your body, the liquid spilling all over your ass to your back and cunt, mixing in with his cum until it spills unto the sheets below you. 

After that, only the sounds of your shared heavy panting can be heard, catching both of your breaths in silence until you break into a tired chuckle. 

“Damn,” you say, wincing when you feel the liquid on your back rapidly cool against your heated skin. “You could always just ask me out, you know?” 

Minho only rolls his eyes on you with that, his head hanging between his shoulders as he chuckles with you. “Shut up. You liked it anyway—” 

“You even went with the dramatics, Min. What was that again? Fuck around and find out?”

“Very funny, Y/n. Let’s get you cleaned up now.” 

---

Minho settles beside you on the pull out couch, his bed being not available at the moment because of your early… activities. His bedsheets are already in the washing machine while the two of you had already bathed and dressed comfortably with you wearing of his shirts. 

He spoons you from behind, his arms tucking beneath yours while he nuzzles his face against your neck and hair, your limbs all tangled up from one another. It’s already 3 am at that point and everything is quiet, the earth seemingly as sleep. It feels oddly peaceful this way in his arms with his hand laced with yours as your tucked closely against his chest, easily making you feel sleepy. 

“Y/n,” before you pass out, you hear Minho quietly whisper and you answer with a tired “Hm?”

“I meant it when I said that I only want you.” 

Your heart starts to beat rapidly at his sudden confession, effectively waking your system up, but you stay still, your breathing still controlled as you try to stay silent, so silent in fact that Minho almost thought that you were already asleep. “I’m sorry that I was a coward and ran away from what I felt towards you,” he continues, further nuzzling his face against you as his hold tightens against your body. “I just don’t wanna lose you again.”

You hear the vulnerability in Minho’s voice, the way he sounded so sincere and genuine as he holds you close to him, the way he’s thumbing against the skin of your hand taking you back to the nights you’ve spent with him just like this— just you and him in the comfort of each other's arms. 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow?” You finally reply and Minho breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Let’s talk about it.” 

[linophobic]

social exchange

smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: STEM!nerdsung x psych!f!reader, established relationship genre/tags: college au, brief explicit content, mostly fluff, stars Richard, features Minho the bsf, Soonie catches a stray im sorry word count: 2.5k synopsis: Social exchange theory is the psychosocial theory that individuals weigh relationships according to cost-benefit analyses, basing them on whether the aforementioned relationship is beneficial and/or fair over time. Jisung has someone important he wants you to meet. Her name is Richard.

[a/n] very self-indulgent fic, i think js is so cute it's ridiculous.

also you and minho are friendly, i just like him snarky! my man is funny!

⋆˚࿔ more nerdsung ⋆ masterlist

You had finally caught up. No overdue assignments. No looming exams. No discussion posts hanging over your head like a guillotine. For the first time in weeks, your schedule belonged to you.

Naturally, you spent that freedom sprinting up four flights of stairs because the elevator in Jisung's apartment building had chosen to die. Your bag bounced against your hip as you climbed, the ridiculous collection of charms attached to it jingling loud enough to announce your arrival to the entire complex.

By the time you reached the landing, the apartment door was already open.

Minho leaned against the frame. “Christ," he said. "Do you ever walk anywhere?"

"No." Minho was Jisung's roommate and best friend. He was much too contradictory for your liking - aloof yet observant, serious yet deeply committed to nonsense, a man of few words who only seemed to chime in to inconvenience you - but you didn’t have permission to evaluate him.

"Thought so."

You slipped past him before he could continue.

"Use protection," he called after you.

"Get a job," you shot back. Then you were gone, slamming the door shut behind you.

Jisung barely had time to look up from his desk before you launched yourself at him.

"Hi."

The impact nearly sent his chair rolling backward. He laughed anyway, wrapping his arms around you automatically. "Hi."

Worth the stairs.

Pleasantries were exchanged first, of course. You'd missed him, and Jisung genuinely wanted to know how classes were going. But somewhere between the updates and the complaining, the conversation migrated to his bed, where talking became significantly less productive when you ended up on top of him.

Clothes had long since vanished. You smirked against his mouth, amused as your hands played with his hair. He was inseparable from your face and neck, kissing every inch of you. He chuckled little I miss you’s into your skin with each one, but he slowed down at some point, staying in one spot for a little too long. He wouldn’t leave your chest alone.

You leaned backwards, allowing him more access. He didn’t hesitate, humming gratefully before his scattered kisses got messier.

“Are the condoms still in the drawer?” you asked, tone casual.

Jisung popped up, lips and cheeks a matching shade of magenta. He flashed a shy grin as he reached over to retrieve protection. You pulled it from his hand impatiently, giggling as you quickly got it on him.

Today wasn’t the day to act bashful, but neither of you were desperate either. He carefully lifted your hips and lowered you onto him, making you sigh contently at the stretch. You took him in quickly and well, your body having memorized his already.

You braced yourself with his shoulders and rose and fell with urgent rhythm. The sound of you bouncing off his thighs was mixed with his creaky bed and stifled groans. He tried his best to keep quiet, but he couldn’t help but squeak when you circled your hips just right.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, buried in your neck. “Don’t leave me again.”

His bangs tickled you as you quickened the pace. He could only grip you harder, letting you feel every inch of him tremor inside you. He was close and you felt kind enough to let him finish, so you grinded into him, hard and rough. He groaned, not expecting the force. He panted through it, voice high and strained as he thanked you. He sounded so delicate, even delighted, as you kept him there, using him until it was your turn.

Eventually, you collapsed on top of Jisung with a soft smack. He was sweaty and warm and breathed with the labor of a man who almost died. You sprawled out on his chest, getting comfortable.

Jisung let out a long, dramatic groan beneath you.

“Alive?” you asked.

“…debatable.”

You giggled, nestling closer. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek. Neither of you seemed particularly interested in moving anytime soon.

As your gaze wandered around his room - past the shelves of figurines and Legos - something unfamiliar caught your eye. There was a big glass box in the corner. You were a little embarrassed that you missed it on the way in earlier. It wasn’t a fish tank, exactly. It looked more elaborate than that, with branches, climbing structures, and serious looking equipment.

You frowned. That definitely hadn't been there last time.

“Ji,” you said, poking at his chest. “What's that?”

“Huh?” He turned his head like the motion required a sacrifice from his life source.

You pointed. Jisung followed your finger, squinting across the room. His glasses had long since disappeared somewhere into the abyss of his bedroom, forcing him to rely on pure intuition. Then his eyes widened.

“Oh!" The reaction was immediate. Not merely excitement, exactly. More like activation. One second Jisung had been half-dead and incapable of movement. The next, he was sitting upright, forcing you to straddle him and gaze up into his now twinkling eyes.

You burst out laughing. "No way."

"What?"

"You weren't even conscious ten seconds ago."

"I'm conscious now."

"Because of the mystery tank?"

"Maybe."

"Jisung."

"Do you wanna see or not?"

You loved having a nerdy boyfriend. Not the aesthetic kind - not the people who carried books they never finished in tote bags from museums they’ve never been to. Despite his standoffish, slightly brooding exterior, he was a real one. Jisung collected hobbies like they were achievements all while maintaining a 4.0. He watched anime. He read manga and comics and then acted personally offended when you mixed the terms up. He treated competitive games like a second job despite complaining about them constantly. He could quote the Silmarillion and the Orange Catholic Bible. He could spend an hour explaining why two guitars that looked identical were completely different instruments in his humble opinion. Every few months, he discovered something new and immediately devoted his entire personality to it.

Which meant absolutely anything could be waiting inside that tank.

“Wait here,” he said, already scrambling off the bed. He clumsily redressed himself, passing you your shirt and underwear, as well.

After making yourself kind of presentable, you sat on the edge of the bed, kicking your feet while your imagination ran wild.

A turtle would be fine.

A snake would be manageable.

A tarantula would test the limits of your devotion.

The door opened before you could decide where exactly you drew the line. Jisung stepped inside with both hands raised dramatically, like a doctor preparing for surgery.

"Okay," he said. "Important question."

You cocked your head to the side.

"Are you gonna want to hold her?"

Her. Your curiosity doubled.

"Maybe?" You lied.

"Then you need to wash your hands first."

You wanted to hesitate; you wanted to interrogate a bit further. But his hair was a mess. His cheeks were still pink. There was a shine to his skin that made him look warm and impossibly pretty, and he was smiling at you with all the excitement of a little kid about to show off his favorite toy.

You folded immediately.

"Okay."

"Okay," he echoed, pleased.

You dutifully headed for the bathroom. On your way back, you passed through the living room. Minho was stretched across the couch, scrolling through his phone with one hand. One of his cats - the enormous orange one that seemed to gain mass every time you visited - was sprawled across his chest like a weighted blanket.

Without looking up, he said, "You'll be fine."

You paused.

"Hm?"

"Just don't freak out."

That did not inspire confidence.

"And call her cute."

Now you were even more concerned.

"It'll make him happy."

You stared at him. Minho finally glanced up.

"Trust me."

Considering Minho's definition of cute included an almost literal gang of mean, chunky cats, you weren't sure that helped very much.

When you returned to Jisung's room, he was standing in front of the tank with one arm inside. "Hey," he was saying softly. "Daddy wants to introduce you to somebody."

You opened your mouth and then closed it, not having the time to unpack that statement. A beat later, he carefully withdrew his hand. Something tiny clung to his fingers.

"Oh." Your heart immediately melted.

The lizard was adorable. It was mostly white, covered in soft brown patches that reminded you of a cow. It looked impossibly small perched against his hand - not even the size of a full palm, barely as long as the fingers its little toes were wrapped around. For a creature that looked like a miniature dinosaur, it was unbelievably cute.

"This is Richard," Jisung announced. The smile on his face could have powered a city. "She's a crested gecko. She's still a baby, so she's really little."

You looked from the gecko to Jisung. Then back to the gecko. Then back to Jisung.

"...She's a girl?"

"Yeah!"

"Why is her name Richard, then?"

A moment passed.

"Changbin named her."

That somehow explained everything and nothing.

"It's a pun," he continued bashfully.

You laughed. “Of course.”

"But she likes it."

"She likes being named Richard?"

"Yeah!” He said it with such conviction that you couldn't even argue.

Jisung stepped closer and gently held out his hand. Richard immediately turned her head toward you. You froze. The gecko stared. You stared back. She had huge, curious eyes. The kind that made it look like she was genuinely trying to figure you out.

"She's looking at you," Jisung said quietly.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"She's wondering who you are." The fondness in his voice nearly killed you. “She's really only met me and Minho. She hid from my dad when he dropped her off."

You reached out carefully, wiggling a finger. Richard followed the movement with her entire head.

"Oh my God."

"I know," Jisung said immediately, proudly.

"How long have you had her?"

"A few weeks." The answer came instantly, but the follow-up was stammered a bit, like he was guilty. "I-I wanted to introduce you guys when you were less swamped and she was settled in first. I figured it'd take longer, but she's such a happy baby."

His entire face lit up. The gecko could not possibly understand what he was saying. That didn't stop him.

"She lets me hold her every morning before she goes to sleep. Sometimes she'll just sit with me in bed." He smiled down at Richard. "And she'll come out of her cave to stare at Minho and the cats."

"Just stare?"

"Just stare."

"Judgmentally?"

"A little. They deserve it.”

You laughed. Jisung laughed too.

And for a moment, watching him gush over a tiny lizard named Richard, you found yourself thinking the same thing you'd been thinking for months now - somehow, every new thing he cared about became your favorite thing to hear about.

"Do you want to try holding her?" Jisung asked.

You nodded, truly excited. The smile that spread across his face was almost unfair.

"Okay." He adjusted his hands carefully. "Just hold your hand out like this.”

You copied him.

“If she wants to come over, she will. If she doesn't, that's okay too." His voice softened. "She might need more time. She still won't let Minho hold her."

The smug satisfaction that gave you was completely irrational.

You held your hand steady. The tiny gecko tilted her head as though she were conducting a very serious evaluation. For a moment, she simply watched you. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she leaned forward.

One foot. Then another. Slowly, she climbed from Jisung's hand onto yours. Your entire face lit up.

"Oh my God - I've been chosen."

"You have."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from squealing. She was even smaller up close, delicate. Ridiculously tiny compared to the hand she perched on. Richard blinked at you intently. There was something strangely self-satisfied about her expression, like she knew exactly how adorable she was.

"What a brave girl!" Jisung cooed. He was smiling so proudly it was embarrassing. "Daddy is so proud of you."

You paused, then slowly turned toward him, with a poorly hidden smirk.

"Daddy?"

Jisung looked back at you.

"Daddy," you repeated.

"Yeah?" The confusion on his face was genuine.

"You call yourself that?"

"Well..." He shrugged. "She's my daughter." The answer was delivered with complete sincerity.

You hummed. "I'll remember that."

The tips of his ears immediately turned pink.

Richard shifted on your hand, completely unaware that her father was currently being psychologically observed.

"Can I be her mommy?" you asked suddenly.

Jisung's eyes widened. "What?"

You lifted Richard slightly. "I think she likes me."

Richard chose that exact moment to climb farther onto your hand.

"See?" you said. "We're bonding."

Jisung looked between you and the gecko. Then, to your surprise, he smiled. "Of course."

Your heart did a stupid little flip. "Really?"

"Yeah." He reached over to gently scratch beneath Richard's chin. "She already has uncles."

You laughed, an airy, surprised sound. The domesticity of that sentence hit you far harder than it should have.

Richard: one.

Your ability to function: zero.

"Hm." You pretended to think. "Can I be your—"

"Absolutely not."

You burst out laughing. “You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I do."

"You don't."

"You can’t joke like that in front of children!” His face was red now.

Richard suddenly licked the tip of your finger. Both of you froze. Then Jisung pointed. "See? She agrees with me."

"That's not what happened."

"That's exactly what happened."

"Richard, blink twice if you support me."

Richard simply continued sitting there, unblinking, looking pleased with herself.

Traitor.

You lifted her closer to eye level. She watched you back. Tiny. Inquisitive. Completely content.

Honestly, you understood why Jisung was obsessed with her. Then again, you also understood why you were obsessed with Jisung.

Richard settled comfortably in your stretched hand, curling in on herself almost sleepily.

"I really do think she's adopted me," you whispered.

"Good."

"Good?"

Jisung nodded without hesitation. "Yeah."

"Why?"

He looked genuinely confused by the question. "Because I wanted her to like you."

Your heart immediately betrayed you. "Oh."

Jisung reached over to gently pat Richard's head. "You're important to me," he said simply. "I wanted you guys to get along."

Just like that. No grand declaration. No dramatic speech. Just a statement of fact. You looked down at Richard before he could see the ridiculous smile threatening to spread across your face.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend was observant.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"No reason."

"There is absolutely a reason."

"Focus on your daughter."

"She's our daughter."

You turned around to hide your red face growing hotter and hotter by the second, startling Richard as she peered at her father judgingly. Jisung stood frozen, surprised by his own charm.

From somewhere in the apartment, Minho yelled, "I heard that one."

"Mind your business!" you shouted. Richard stretched forward in solidarity.

"Make me!”

[linophobic]

i wanted to write a spider-han x black cat!reader fic…

[hanjinology]

CATCH ME, SPIDEY! : featuring han jisung

— spiderman!han jisung x black cat!fem reader in which, new threats rise across seoul as spider man tries to keep the city safe, but his attention is captured by a certain cat burglar with secrets of her own. as their paths intertwine, jisung and y/n discover that even heroes and thieves can share something unexpectedly real.

content warning: this fic includes detailed nsfw scenes that may be too much for some readers. includes penetrative sex, mention of blood and wound, frenemies to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, soft love making, pinv, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasm, intense make out session, and other scenes that might be uncomfortable for some readers. please consume what you can, and separate fiction from reality. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

a/n: As you all guys know, this very prompt is from @skzcodered <333 It took me awhile to finished it ack- I almost hit the wall but I DID IT!!!! SPIDERHAN IS HERE AND I HOPE SHE LOVES THIS ONE, and of course I hope you guys enjoy reading this. Let me know your thoughts <333

word count: 7.6k words

The night air in Seoul thrummed with the distant pulse of neon lights and endless traffic far below. You balanced gracefully on the edge of the glittering corporate tower, the cool breeze tugging at the sleek black suit that hugged every curve of your body like a liquid shadow. Silver claw accents gleamed under the moonlight as you tucked the stolen diamond necklace safely against your chest, still warm from the penthouse safe you'd cracked open just minutes ago.

Another flawless score for Black Cat.

You were about to disappear into the night when a familiar voice cut through the silence, laced with that signature playful arrogance.

"Fancy seeing you here, Kitty."

You didn't even flinch.

From above, Spider-Man dropped down in a smooth arc, landing lightly on the ledge just a few feet away. His red-and-black suit clung to his lean, athletic frame, the large white spider emblem bold across his chest. The white lenses of his mask narrowed in mock disapproval, but you could practically hear the grin behind them.

"That necklace doesn't exactly match your usual aesthetic," he teased, tilting his head. "Hand it over."

You turned slowly to face him, a smirk curling on your lips beneath your own mask. The city lights painted both of you in shifting hues of blue and pink as you straightened up, rolling your shoulders with feline grace.

"And here I thought you'd finally learned to mind your own business, Spidey," you purred, voice smooth and teasing. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to crash a girl's private party?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm even through the mask. "Only when the girl in question keeps stealing things that don't belong to her." He took one graceful step closer, head cocked. "C'mon, Black Cat. Don't make me chase you again. You know how much I enjoy it."

The tension between you crackled like electricity in the night air, familiar, dangerous, and undeniably thrilling.

You let out a soft, mischievous giggle that danced through the night air, the sound light and taunting. You took a few graceful steps backward until the heels of your boots were right at the very edge of the rooftop. The vast city sprawled endlessly behind you, a glittering sea of ​​lights and concrete far below.

With your back to the dizzying drop, you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with playful challenge beneath your mask.

"Catch me, Spidey!" you purred, voice dripping with sweetness.

Then, without hesitation, you let yourself fall.

You tipped backwards off the ledge, arms spread like wings as gravity claimed you. The wind rushed violently past your ears, whipping your hair as you plummeted through the cool night air. For a split second, the world became a thrilling blur of neon and stars.

A heartbeat later, you heard his familiar shout, half exasperated, half exhilarated.

"Seriously!? Again!?"

The wind roared past you as you dropped through the open air. Seconds later, you heard Spider-Man's familiar shout as he dove after you like a crimson bullet.

"Got you-!"

He reached out with both arms, ready to catch you against his chest. At the very last moment, you twisted your body with feline grace, spinning mid-air like a black shadow. His fingers barely brushed your suit before you slipped through his grasp.

You fired your grappling claw towards the opposite building, swinging yourself smoothly onto an open balcony on a lower floor. The landing was silent and perfect.

Spider-Man was left soaring past you, still carried by his momentum through the night sky. He quickly shot a web and swung back around, landing on the railing of the balcony you were standing on.

You turned to face him, mask hiding your smirk. The city lights painted your figure in shades of violet and silver as you gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"Till next time, Spider-Man," you purred softly, voice full of playful promise.

Before he could lunge forward, you blew him a teasing kiss, turned on your heel, and disappeared into the dark hallway of the building like smoke, silent, graceful, and completely untouchable. Just like the black cat you were.

Spider-Man stood frozen on the railing for a moment, staring at the empty space where you had just been. He let out a long, amused sigh and shook his head, a reluctant laugh escaping him.

He was about to swing away when something small and glossy on the floor caught his attention.

A tube of red lipstick.

He raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, a faint, amused smile forming on his lips as he crouched down and picked it up. The lipstick was elegant, sleek black casing with a silver accent. He turned it over in his fingers, still slightly warm.

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Now, that's interesting." he murmured, amused. "I shall hold this thing for you for now, Kitty."

He knew you well enough to understand this wasn't intentional. You were always precise, always in control. The fact that your lipstick had fallen without you realizing it made the discovery feel strangely intimate.

He popped the cap open for a moment, staring at the bold red shade before closing it again. With a small smirk, he tucked the lipstick safely into a hidden pocket on his suit.

He shot a web towards the next building and launched himself back into the night sky, the city lights blurring around him. Even as he swung through Seoul, the faint smile never left his face.

Meanwhile, several buildings away, you moved silently across rooftops, completely unaware that you had left a small trace of yourself behind.

--

"Well, this is new," Jisung drawled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. "Never thought the ever-so-punctual Y/N could be late to class too."

You rolled your eyes and let out a heavy sigh the moment you heard his voice. Of all days, he just had to be your seatmate today. It wasn't that you hated him, really. Far from it-but your morning had already been a disaster, and the last thing you needed was his teasing.

"Don't start," you muttered, dropping into the chair beside him with more force than necessary. You shoved your bag under the desk and ran a hand through your slightly messy hair, still feeling irritated.

Jisung tilted his head, studying your face with open curiosity. His playful smile didn't fade even a little.

"Rough morning?" he asked, voice softer this time, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

"Worst," you replied flatly, exhaling through your nose as you slumped forward, resting your chin against your palm on the desk.

Jisung turned in his seat to face you properly, his usual playful expression softening a little.

"I could tell," he said. "You barely wore any makeup today. Woke up late?"

You shook your head.

"I spent the entire morning looking for my favorite lipstick," you grumbled. "The red one I always wear. I swear I left it on my desk last night but I couldn't find it anywhere. Had to leave the house bare-faced because of it."

"Oh, yikes," Jisung said, trying his best to sound genuinely sympathetic. "That sucks. You really like that one, right?"

"Yeah," you sighed, clearly still annoyed. "Now I feel weirdly naked without it."

Jisung leaned his cheek against his hand, watching you with a small, comforting smile

"Well, you still look pretty even without it," he said casually, then quickly added with a teasing grin, "-but I get it. Girl things are important."

You let out a small huff, somewhere between annoyed and amused, and gently bumped his arm with your elbow.

"Shut up."

Just as you were about to reply, the classroom door opened and Professor Kim walked in, looking slightly hurried.

"Morning, class. Let's jump right in," he said, setting his laptop on the desk. "We're starting a major project today. It will count for 35% of your final grade."

He projected the assignment on the screen. The title read: "Innovative Solutions in Environmental Science."

"You'll be working in pairs. The task is to choose a real-world environmental problem, conduct research, design a scientific solution or prototype, and present your findings with supporting data. This includes literature review, methodology, and experimental design."

A wave of murmurs and a few groans filled the room. Professor Kim smiled . "And I've already assigned the pairs randomly."

He began reading from his list. When he reached your name, your stomach dropped slightly.

"Y/N..." he paused, "and Han Jisung."

You slowly turned your head towards Jisung. He was already looking at you with a bright, cheeky grin, clearly entertained by his luck.

"No way," he whispered, leaning closer. You let out a long, tired sigh and dropped your forehead onto the desk.

"How unlucky." you mumbled.

Jisung chuckled softly, nudging your arm playfully.

"Hey, don't sound so heartbroken. I'm actually really good at science, you know," he teased. "Plus, now I have to help you find that missing lipstick. Can't have my project partner in a bad mood the whole time."

You turned your head on the desk to glare at him with one eye. He just smiled wider, looking far too happy about this arrangement.

"Partners?" he asked, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand for a second before reluctantly giving him a weak high-five.

"...Partners," you groaned.

The weekend arrived wrapped in velvet darkness.You moved like liquid shadow across the rooftops of Seoul's most exclusive district. The cool night wind pressed against your sleek black suit as you slipped in and out of the heavily guarded mansion. Minutes later, the 637-carat diamond necklace rested heavily against your chest, its weight warm and satisfying.You were perched on the edge of a tall glass building when his voice rang out behind you, smooth and teasing.

"Stealing from corrupt politicians now, Kitty? That's bold, even for you."

You turned with a smirk, silver claws glinting under the moonlight. Spider-Man stood on the adjacent rooftop, his red-and-black suit glowing against the neon cityscape, the white spider emblem bold across his chest.

You let out a soft, playful laugh. "What can I say? I have excellent taste," you purred, tilting your head. "Besides, this necklace would look much better decorating my neck than his greasy one. Don't you agree, Spidey?"

He took a graceful step closer, head tilted in amusement.

"I'd say it would look even better in a museum. Or better yet..." His mask lenses narrowed playfully, "in my hand after I catch you."

You grinned beneath your mask and took a few steps back, muscles coiled like a spring.

"Then come and get it," you challenged sweetly. Without another word, you spun and leapt off the building. The chase began. You soared through the night, landing lightly on the next rooftop before immediately jumping again. Spider-Man was right behind you, swinging gracefully from building to building with powerful webs.

"You're getting slower, Kitty!" he called out mid-swing, voice full of teasing affection. "Or maybe you just like it when I chase you?"

You landed on a narrow glass ledge and shot him a sultry look over your shoulder. "Maybe I do," you replied flirtatiously, voice carrying through the wind. "It's cute watching you try so hard to keep up with me."

He laughed—bright and warm—as he swung closer. "Cute? I'll show you cute when I finally catch you and pin you against a wall."

Your laughter rang out like bells as you leapt to the next building, heart racing with thrill. You glanced back at him, eyes sparkling with challenge.

"Promises, promises, Spider-Boy. You've been saying that for months, yet here I am... still one step ahead."

The two of you danced across the Seoul skyline, a dangerous, flirtatious game of cat and spider. Every jump, every swing, every teasing word crackled with electricity between you. But in the middle of a particularly daring leap to a lower rooftop, you miscalculated.

Your hand slipped on the wet concrete edge. A sharp cry escaped your lips as pain tore through your right palm. You landed hard, rolling across the rooftop, warm blood instantly soaking through your glove.You clutched your injured hand to your chest, teeth gritted against the burning pain.

Spider-Man landed a few meters away, concern flashing in his lenses. "Kitty—?!"

Before he could reach you, you forced yourself up and fired your grappling claw, swinging away into the darkness once more. You disappeared between two buildings like a shadow swallowed by night. Even wounded, you still escaped.

--

The image of you—Black Cat— clutching your bleeding hand refused to leave Jisung's mind. All week long, he kept replaying that moment, the sharp cry you tried to hide, the way you still forced yourself to keep running despite the injury. Every night he swung through the city, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you, just to make sure you were okay. But you hadn't appeared again.

Even now, as he stood in front of his closet on Saturday afternoon, Jisung was still distracted.

"Shit..." he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. He had spent the entire week half-present. During lectures, during practice, even while hanging out with the guys, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The flirty, untouchable Black Cat who always slipped through his fingers. The same girl who got hurt because he had been chasing her too aggressively.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he finally grabbed a simple black hoodie and threw it on. It was only when his phone buzzed with a new message that reality hit him like a truck.

You: Hey, are you still coming over today? It's already 2:30 pm.

Jisung blinked at the screen, eyes widening in panic.

"Fuck. It's already Saturday?" He had completely lost track of time. The project meeting with you had completely slipped his mind. He quickly typed back.

Jisung: Shit sorry!! I'm on my way right now. Give me 15 minutes.

Grabbing his bag and notebook, Jisung rushed out of the dorm, still mentally distracted. Even as he walked toward your apartment, his thoughts kept circling back to Black Cat.

Is her hand okay? Did she patch it up properly? Why the hell do I even care this much...?

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away as he finally reached your building. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell to your unit.When you opened the door, Jisung offered an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey... sorry I'm late. I kind of... lost track of time."

You raised an eyebrow, noticing how slightly disheveled he looked. He seemed more distracted than usual.

Jisung stepped inside your apartment, still trying to shake off the fog in his head. He was about to apologize again for being late when his eyes casually swept over you, and then froze. Your right hand was wrapped in a medical cast. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, concern flashing across his face. The playful, distracted expression he wore just seconds ago completely vanished.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, voice suddenly serious. He took a small step closer, eyes locked on the white cast. "That looks pretty bad... Did you get into an accident?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "It's nothing serious. I just slipped and fell the other night. Landed on it wrong."

But Jisung wasn't convinced. His gaze lingered on the cast a second longer, and suddenly, his mind violently flashed back to that night.

Black Cat.

The way she had cried out in pain mid-jump. The way she clutched her right hand to her chest before disappearing into the shadows. The blood he had seen glistening under the moonlight.

His stomach twisted.

No... It can't be.

That's when Jisung remembered something. He dropped his bag on the floor beside the couch and crouched down to rummage through it.

"Is this yours?" he asked, pulling out a familiar sleek black tube with silver accents and held it up.

Your eyes widened the second you saw it. Without thinking, you lunged forward and snatched the lipstick out of his hand in a panic, clutching it tightly against your chest.

"Where did you get this?!" you asked sharply, voice a little too high.

Jisung blinked at your sudden reaction, slightly taken aback. "I found it on the floor in the hallway outside the lecture hall last week,"

You stared at him, heart hammering wildly in your chest. Your fingers tightened around the lipstick like it was a lifeline. For a split second, a wave of paranoia washed over you. Did he know? Could he possibly suspect anything?

Jisung tilted his head, watching your reaction with curious eyes. He noticed how tense you suddenly became, how tightly you were gripping the lipstick.

And then... the pieces started clicking together in his mind. The right hand injury, exactly where Black Cat had hurt herself that night. The same red lipstick he had picked up after she disappeared. The way you just panicked the moment he showed it to you.

No way...

He tried to push the thought away, but it kept growing louder. Jisung felt his heartbeat pick up. "You okay?" Jisung asked, forcing his voice to stay light even though his mind was spiraling. "You look really pale all of a sudden."

You quickly slipped the lipstick into your pocket and tried to act normal. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just surprised you found it. Thanks."

Jisung smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. His gaze lingered on your cast once more.

"Then I guess I'm glad I kept it for you."

-- 

The next few weeks blurred into a tense routine. On weekdays, you and Jisung met at the library to finish the remaining sections of their research paper, the deadline now looming just a month away. The quiet corner they had once claimed felt smaller each time, the air thicker with everything unsaid.

Conversations stayed painfully polite—short exchanges about citations, methodology, and formatting. Every sentence was measured. Every glance carefully guarded. You both walked on eggshells, hyper-aware that a single slip, a careless word, or an unguarded expression could unravel the fragile secrets you'd both been hiding for so long.

Yet the nights told a different story.

Jisung's suspicions had grown into a storm he could no longer ignore. Every weekend, after parting ways with Black Cat beneath the city lights, he would see you the next morning bearing fresh marks of the battles they had fought together.

A vicious slash across Black Cat's cheek became a thin band-aid on your face by Monday morning. A deliberate trip in a narrow alley—one he had staged to test his theory—left you limping into the library the following day, your steps stiff and uneven. Each minor injury he inflicted on Black Cat, even though guilt twisted in his chest every time, appeared on your body like an undeniable signature.

He hated himself for it. But the evidence kept piling up, too consistent to be coincidence. The way you winced when you reached for a book. The fresh bruise on your wrist that matched the one he'd left on Black Cat's. The way your eyes would flicker with quiet panic whenever his gaze lingered too long on your injuries.

The more he tested the connection, the more certain he became.

Jisung made up his mind. Tonight, everything would end, one way or another. He knew about the ruby. He had overheard you muttering about it during one of your late-night rooftop conversations as Black Cat. The legendary Crimson Heart, a blood-red gem recently "donated" by a reclusive billionaire to the City Museum of Antiquities. The official story was polished and perfect. You both knew better. The ruby was stolen, another glittering piece of corruption hidden behind glass and security lasers.

He didn't plan to stop the heist. He planned to confront you in the middle of it. As Spiderman, he swung through the rain-slicked streets, heart pounding harder than it had in months. The cool night air did nothing to calm the storm inside him. Part of him still desperately hoped he was wrong. That the girl who sat beside him during classes, the one who never backed down when it comes to bickering with him wasn't the same person who danced across rooftops with him as Black Cat. That the consequences hadn't bound their fates together in such a cruel, intimate way. But deep down, he already knew.

"I knew you'd be here."

Your head snapped toward the voice, heart jolting in your chest. There he stood—Spiderman—perched at the far edge of the opposite rooftop, silhouetted against the glittering city skyline. The red and blue of his suit caught the moonlight, making him look almost unreal.

"Spidey," you mused, a playful lilt curving your lips beneath the mask. You tilted your head, letting the teasing tone drip like honey. "You're always where I am. At this rate, I might start thinking you've already fallen for me."

A low chuckle rumbled from Spiderman's chest, the sound surprisingly soft against the steady patter of rain. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he swung forward, landing just a few steps closer on the same rooftop.

Your body tensed instantly, every instinct screaming at you to stay alert.

"Hm?" He tilted his head, voice laced with something unreadable. "Why are you stepping away from me?" He took another slow step forward, rain sliding down the sleek surface of his suit like liquid shadows. "Don't tell me you're suddenly afraid of me."

Your stomach dropped. You forced out a soft, disbelieving laugh, trying to cling to your usual playful confidence. "Me? Afraid of you?" You took another careful step back, the edge of the rooftop now much closer than you liked. "Oh, Spidey..."

But every time he moved forward, you mirrored him with a step back. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs, loud enough that you wondered if he could hear it through the rain. A nervous gulp betrayed you as your fingers twitched, ready to summon your claws at any moment.

"Y/N."

Your breath hitched sharply, the sound catching in your throat like a blade. The world seemed to tilt for a second. He had said your name with quiet certainty, as if it belonged on his tongue.

He knows. He fucking knows who you are. Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. How? When? Who the hell was he beneath that mask?

You forced a breathless, disbelieving laugh, taking another instinctive step back. "Who are you calling Y/N?" Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with defensive edge. "You've got the wrong person, Spiderman."

"I wouldn't say a name if I wasn't confident about who you are. I know you're exactly who I think you are."

You pressed your lips together, your grip tightening around the jewel hidden behind your back. A nervous laugh almost escaped you, but you swallowed it down.

"I think all this chasing has been giving you the wrong idea," you said, shaking your head lightly. "I'm sorry, but I think we should end this here. This—"

The rest of your sentence got stuck in your throat.

A rustling sound came from him. At first, you thought he was simply shifting his weight, but then your eyes caught the movement of his hands rising toward his mask. Your brows furrowed in confusion. For a second, you could only stare as his fingers hooked beneath the fabric.

Wait. What was he doing?

Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he pulled the mask away from his face. The moment the fabric fell, your entire body went still.

Brown eyes met yours. Warm, familiar brown eyes. Your breath caught as your mind scrambled to make sense of what you were seeing. The face in front of you was one you knew. One you had seen countless times before. Without his usual glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, he looked different enough to throw you off for a second, but not different enough to hide who he was.

Han Jisung.

The name echoed in your head as you stared at him, unable to look away. Out of everyone, every single person, you could have expected to find beneath that mask, Han Jisung had never once crossed your mind.

"Jisung..." you breathed, the name slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Of course he heard. He was Spiderman, after all.

The moment his eyes met yours, panic surged through your chest. "I'm sorry—I need to go."

You didn't give him a chance to respond. Before he could say anything, you turned and leaped away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. The wind rushed past your ears, but it did little to quiet the frantic thoughts racing through your head.

Han Jisung was Spiderman.

No matter how many times you repeated it to yourself, it still didn't feel real. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, a mixture of shock and nervousness making it difficult to think straight. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to sit beside from him, talk to him, and pretend everything was normal after learning something like this?

The more you thought about it, the more your head spun.

The person you had spent months pining after, wondering about, chasing after without even realizing it, turned out to be someone who had been right beside you the entire time. Someone you laughed with, talked to, and saw almost every day.

You landed on a quiet rooftop far away from the city's glowing center and pulled your mask off, breathing hard. Your hands were trembling. It should have made things easier. Instead, it only made everything more complicated.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. Every conversation you'd ever had with him suddenly felt different, taking on a meaning you hadn't noticed before. Moments you once brushed off kept replaying in your mind, making you wonder how you had missed something so obvious.

That revelation alone was enough to keep you awake for nights, staring at your ceiling while the same thought circled endlessly through your mind.

The following weeks became a careful game of avoidance. Whenever Jisung tried to approach you after class, you'd suddenly remember something you forgot and rush off in the opposite direction.

Thankfully, the two of you had worked so efficiently that you finished most of the project ahead of schedule. There was no real reason for the two of you to meet anymore. That made avoiding him easier.

But Jisung was nothing if not persistent. He was determined. The questions in his head had grown too loud to ignore. He needed to hear the truth from your mouth. He needed to know if the girl he sat next to every week, the one who rolled her eyes at his jokes and snatched her lipstick in panic, was really the same person who made his heart race every night on the rooftops.

So on Thursday evening, without warning, he stood in front of your dorm room. He took a deep breath and knocked.

You were lounging on the couch in oversized clothes, hair messy, scrolling through your phone when the knock came. Thinking it was your roommate's boyfriend (who always came over unannounced), you didn't even bother checking.

"Coming!" you called out lazily.

You opened the door without a second thought. And froze.

Jisung stood there, hands in his hoodie pocket, looking unusually serious. His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

Without thinking, you moved to slam the door shut. But Jisung was faster. His arm shot out with surprising speed and strength, his palm slapping against the door just before it could close. The impact made the wood rattle. You pushed harder, but it barely budged, his arm was unyielding, muscles tense under his sleeve.

"Wait—" His voice was firm, but not aggressive. "Don't close the door. Please."

You stared at him, breathing heavily painfully aware of how close you two are now, only inches away from yours. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the mixture of confusion, determination, and something softer.

"I'm not leaving until we talk," he said quietly, still holding the door open with surprising ease. "You've been avoiding me all week. Running away every time I try to get close to you. Just like how she always run away from me."

You chewed on your  lower lip. Your eyebrows furrowing, whispering to yourself and praying to all the Gods and Goddesses you know that he should not asked that question.

"Is it you, Y/n? You're Black Cat, aren't you?"

With a sharp, frustrated exhale, you grabbed the front of his hoodie with your uninjured hand and yanked him inside the dorm before anyone could see him. Jisung stumbled slightly but didn't resist as you pulled him straight through the living room and into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a firm click.

The moment the door closed, you let go of him and took a step back, breathing heavily. The cast on your right hand suddenly felt like a glaring beacon between you two.

"What do you even want from me?" you snapped, voice sharper than you intended. "If you're looking for all the jewels I've stolen, none of them are here. I don't keep that stuff. I don't know what else you want me to say."

You took a shaky breath, eyes burning with a volatile mix of defiance and vulnerability as you glared at him.

"Sure, I'm Black Cat. And what about it?" Your voice cracked slightly. "Are you here to arrest me?"

Jisung stood near the center of your room, looking strangely out of place among your things. His eyes slowly drifted across your space. The neatly organized desk, the black hoodie hanging on the back of your chair, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air, before finally settling back on you.

He didn't speak right away.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and electric. You could see the storm of emotions behind his eyes. Shock, confusion, something else.

"I'm not here to arrest you," he said finally, his voice low and steady. "I'm not here as Spiderman right now."

He took one careful step closer, then stopped when he saw you tense up. "I just..." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I've spent the last week losing my mind trying to connect the dots. The injury on your hand, the lipstick, the way you move, the way you talk when we're on the rooftops... And then I realized it was you. The girl who sits next to me in class. The girl who rolls her eyes at my stupid jokes but still smiles when she thinks I'm not looking." Jisung's voice softened, almost pained.

"So yeah... I know you're Black Cat. But I'm not here to take you in or demand answers about what you've stolen." He looked straight into your eyes, vulnerable in a way you'd never seen from him before, not as Jisung, and certainly not as Spiderman.

"I'm here because I can't stop thinking about you. The real you. Both versions of you."

He swallowed hard, voice dropping to a near whisper. "So tell me... was any of it real? The flirting? The tension? Or was I just some game to you?" The air in your room felt impossibly thick as you stood there, back pressed against the door, heart racing wildly in your chest.

"Don't tell me you've seriously fallen for my other persona?" you said, forcing your voice to stay firm even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. "You must be losing your head if that's the case."

You tried to sound cold. Detached. You needed him to believe that this—whatever this was—could never work. You were a thief who lived in the shadows. He was a hero who protected the light. Nothing good ever came from crossing that line. You knew that better than anyone.

But Jisung didn't back away. Instead, he took a slow step closer, until your faces were only inches apart. His hand rose, pressing against the door beside your head, effectively caging you in without touching you. His warm breath brushed against your lips as he spoke.

"And if I do?" he breathed, the question hanging heavy between you. His eyes, dark, intense, and unwavering, searched yours desperately, looking for even the smallest crack in your armor. The playful, easygoing Jisung you knew from class was gone. In his place was someone raw, honest, and completely unguarded.

"If I told you I've fallen for both versions of you..." he continued, voice low and rough, "the girl who I argue most of the time, and the girl who makes my heart race every time she runs across rooftops... what of it then?"

Your back was pressed firmly against the door. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. His gaze never left yours, not even for a second, as if he was afraid you'd disappear the moment he blinked.

You opened your mouth to protest, heart racing wildly.

"Jisung, we can't— this isn't—"

But he didn't let you finish. Before the words could fully leave your lips, Jisung closed the remaining distance and captured your mouth with his. The kiss was sudden, urgent, and breathtaking. Like he had been holding back for far too long.

Your eyes widened in shock. Your hands instinctively rose to push against his chest, wanting to pull away, knowing this was dangerous, knowing you shouldn't let this happen. But the moment his warm, soft lips moved against yours, all your resolve crumbled. A quiet, helpless sound escaped your throat as your body betrayed you. Your clenched fists slowly loosened, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie instead of pushing him away. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into it, knees weakening under the intensity.

Jisung's hand slid from the door to gently cup the side of your face, tilting your head as he kissed you harder, pouring months of hidden tension, frustration, and longing into every movement. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You knew you should stop this. But God... his lips felt like heaven. The way he kissed you, desperate, tender, and hungry all at once made your mind go blissfully blank. A warm shiver ran down your spine as you finally gave in completely, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Your left hand rested gently against his chest while your other hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. A soft sigh slipped into his mouth as you surrendered to the feeling.

Jisung let out a low, shaky breath against your lips, like he couldn't believe this was really happening.

You barely had time to catch your breath. Jisung's hands slid down to the back of your thighs, gripping them firmly. With surprising strength, he lifted you up effortlessly. A startled gasp escaped your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He didn't hesitate. His mouth found yours again in a hungry, heated kiss as he carried you across the room.

Your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, kissing him back with just as much desperation. Every step he took sent sparks through your body. The feeling of being held so securely in his arms while his lips moved against yours made your head spin.

Jisung reached the edge of your bed and sat down, keeping you wrapped around him. He pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His hands stayed firmly on the back of your thighs, holding you flush against him.

He broke the kiss for just a second, breathing heavily against your lips, eyes dark with want.

"Tell me to stop..." he whispered, voice rough and low, "and I will."

But you didn't tell him to stop. Instead, you leaned in again, capturing his lips in a deeper, slower kiss. Jisung groaned softly into your mouth, one hand sliding up your back while the other stayed gripping your thigh, pulling you even closer. The warmth of his body, the way his chest rose and fell against yours, and the undeniable hardness growing beneath you made heat pool low in your stomach.

You rocked your hips slightly without thinking, drawing another quiet groan from him. His fingers flexed against your skin as he kissed you harder, tongues brushing, breaths mingling. Jisung pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with pure reverence and desire.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmured, voice husky. "How long I've wanted you."

Jisung's hands tightened on your thighs as he pulled you even closer on his lap. The kiss grew deeper, slower, heavier. No longer just desire, but months of unspoken longing finally breaking free.

"Can I?" he softly asked, as he try to lift your shirt up. Your eyes fluttering shut trying to look at him, and when you nodded your head giving him the permission he needed, he stopped hesitating.

He pulled your shirt over your head in one smooth motion, lips immediately attaching to your neck, sucking and kissing down your collarbone as his hands explored your bare skin. You moaned softly, arching into him. The feeling of his warm palms sliding up your back, unclasping your bra, and cupping your breasts made you shiver.

You tugged his hoodie and shirt off together, finally feeling his bare chest against yours. The heat of his skin, the firmness of his muscles, the way his heart pounded wildly under your palm, it was intoxicating.

Jisung flipped you gently onto your back, hovering over you as he kissed down your body with reverence. Every touch felt like worship. He took his time, lips brushing over your breasts, tongue circling your nipples until you were whimpering, hands gripping his hair. Lower and lower he went, until he was between your thighs, pulling your pants and underwear down in one go.

When his mouth found your core, you cried out, back arching off the bed. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. He ate you out like a man starved, slow, deep, and devoted. Like he had dreamed of tasting you for months.

"Jisung— fuck—" you moaned, thighs trembling around his head.

He didn't stop until you came hard on his tongue, gasping his name like a prayer.

Only then did he crawl back up, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his lips. You reached down, palming him through his pants before pushing them down. When you finally wrapped your hand around his hard, throbbing cock, Jisung let out a broken groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"Baby... I need you," he whispered, voice shaking with restraint.

Jisung pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, breathing ragged. His hand gently caressed your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, voice hoarse with need.

You answered by pulling him into a deep kiss. He pushed in slowly. A broken moan slipped from both of you as he stretched you open, inch by inch. Jisung's eyes fluttered shut, forehead pressed against yours as he sank deeper.

"Fuck... you're so tight," he breathed shakily, voice trembling with restraint.

You gasped softly at the fullness, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He kept going until he was buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, just feeling each other completely.

The stretch was perfect. The warmth. The way he throbbed inside you.

Jisung let out a soft, broken moan against your neck, his fingers digging gently into your hip. "You feel... so fucking good. I've been dreamed about this."

When he started moving, it was slow, deep rolls of his hips. Every thrust was deliberate, dragging against that perfect spot inside you. Soft, breathy moans filled the room as your bodies rocked together.

"Ah— Jisung..." you whimpered, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Fuck, say my name again."

"Jisung..."

He kissed you deeply as he picked up the pace just slightly, still making love to you rather than fucking you. Every thrust was long and sensual, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

You moaned softly in his mouth as a response, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the muscles shift under your fingers with every movement. The slow, steady rhythm made the pleasure build gradually, warmly, spreading through your entire body.

He angled his hips a little differently, and a sweeter, higher sound slipped from your lips. Jisung groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he kept that same perfect pace, thrusting deeper but never faster.

Neither of you spoke much, just soft gasps, quiet moans, and whispered names. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the way he throbbed inside you, the slight tremble in his arms as he held himself back. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, warm and heavy.

"I'm close..." you breathed, nails lightly pressing into his back.

"Me too," he whispered, voice strained. "Let go, baby."

A few more deep, smooth thrusts and you came with a soft, broken moan, clenching tightly around him. Jisung followed right after, burying himself deep as he groaned lowly against your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

Both of you trembled, breathing heavily in sync. Jisung stayed buried inside you for a long moment, placing lazy, gentle kisses along your shoulder and collarbone as you both came down from the high.

Silence settled over the room. The only sounds were your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside your window. Neither of you spoke right away. The weight of everything that had just happened slowly sank in. Your body was still buzzing with pleasure, your skin flushed and sensitive, while a deep, warm emotion bloomed in your chest.

Jisung's fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady but a little faster than normal. After a few minutes, he finally shatters the silence.

"...What does this make us?" he asked softly, his voice low and a little uncertain. His hand paused on your waist as he waited for your answer.

You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him. His eyes were warm, vulnerable, and full of quiet hope. For a moment, you just stared at him—this boy who was both your annoying seatmate and the hero who had chased you and made you feel so many emotions.

You let out a small breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "If you're okay dating someone like me... a thief," you said quietly, "then I guess we're dating?"

Jisung's eyes softened. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You lay quietly in Jisung's arms, your head resting on his chest as his fingers gently stroked up and down your back. The silence between you was comfortable now, warm and full of unspoken feelings.

After a while, Jisung spoke again, his voice soft against the top of your head.

"You know you're not just a thief, right?" When you lifted your head again slightly to look at him. He was already watching you, eyes gentle and sincere.

"One of the main reasons I never tried too hard to stop you from stealing those jewels... is because I know where they're going," he continued quietly. "Your methods might not be justified in everyone's eyes, but you're a hero too, Y/N. In your own way."

That acknowledgement hit you deeper than you expected. Your heart fluttered strongly in your chest, warmth spreading through your entire body. For so long, you had carried the weight of being the bad guy, the thief, the villain in someone else's story.

But hearing it from him—from Spiderman—made something inside you shift. You buried your face back into his chest, hiding the shy, emotional smile threatening to break out. Jisung chuckled softly and tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"Maybe... just maybe," you whispered against his skin, "falling for Spiderman wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Jisung smiled, a bright, heart-shaped grin you could feel even without looking. "Good," he murmured, voice full of affection. "Because you're stuck with me now, Kitty."

permanent taglist: @hime-honne, @dxllyhorror, @thepoeticpurplepotato, @verslyns, @channlust, @leewayout, @zosauce, @kloversung, @1-aria-1, @vxyselectric, @urfavleobiscuit, @written-by-music, @fanficwriter5, @minniebitesfr, @pedropacals0l0s, @iheartkentonanami, @ncityswrld, @danielle143, @persassyismysecrettwin, @trisha-dear, @pineapple-burgah, @luv4innie, @bunbunbl0gs, @marlboropuffs, @morgangrice18, @33peach33, @peskybirdysya, @ogerontheside4, @theyknowagus, @zerefdragn33l, @melodyladean, @ebnabi, @emeraldgem22, @fweakygyatt, @taekwondoe, @sue-reads, @shinygubbins, @lilmissfergy, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo, @hwang97janet,

all rights reserved © 2026 sitri. none of my works shall be produced or reproduced in any form without consent and proper asking.

[2kute4you]

POV : your instagram story if LEE MINHO was ur boyfriend

AN: tell me why I woke up with 99+ notifications?? Omggg thank yall. I actually enjoy making these . Lowkey thinking abt making some for txt 🥹🥹🥹 kk byee I hope yall have a good day !!

tag list ; @changbinsal0n , @applesrpeak , @bunbunbl0gs , @hanniesbubuwife , @dina-10s-blog

[stlllle]

Innocent!Han Who...

A/n:Ugh, Stray Kids are coming to Rock in Rio and I'm too broke to go. I hate it here

M.list / s.list / TAGLIST

innocent Han who… fucks your throat relentlessly, holding your head in place while he thrusts deep until tears stream down your face and drool drips everywhere, cumming hard down your throat and making you swallow every drop. Afterwards he wipes your mouth gently with his sleeve, gives you the cutest pout, and cuddles you like he wasn’t just using your mouth as a toy.

innocent Han who… bends you over the dorm couch and rails your pussy hard and fast, slapping your ass red while moaning your name until he fills you with thick cum that leaks down your thighs. When the members come back he’s already playing games on his phone, pulling you onto his lap innocently and asking if you want to watch him play.

innocent Han who… eats your pussy like he’s starving, sucking on your clit until you squirt on his tongue, then fucks you missionary while staring at you with those big sparkling eyes, pumping load after load inside you. After you’re shaking and covered in cum he brings you snacks and water, humming happily like nothing happened.

innocent Han who… wakes you up in the middle of the night by sliding his cock into your soaked pussy and fucks you for hours, cumming inside you multiple times until the sheets are ruined. In the morning he stretches cutely and says with a sleepy smile, “Good morning baby, why do you look so tired today?”

innocent Han who… makes you ride him reverse cowgirl, gripping your hips and slamming you down on his cock until your pussy is swollen and dripping, then flips you over to fill you again. Afterwards he hugs you tightly from behind, nuzzling your neck sweetly and acting like the softest boyfriend alive.

innocent Han who… fucks you against the bathroom wall right before practice, pounding deep and fast while covering your mouth so no one hears you moaning, leaving your pussy creampied and leaking. When he comes out he’s perfectly normal, chatting with the members while you’re still trying to walk straight.

innocent Han who… destroys your pussy all night long in every position, choking you lightly and filling you until cum is everywhere — on your stomach, leaking from your hole, even in your mouth. The next day he brings you breakfast in bed with the most innocent puppy eyes, stroking your hair gently.

innocent Han who… shares you with Minho, fucking your tight pussy while Minho uses your mouth at the same time, both of them pounding you until you’re a trembling, cum-filled mess with loads dripping from every hole. Afterwards Han and Minho act completely casual — Han playing with your fingers softly and offering you his hoodie while Minho makes tea, both pretending they didn’t just ruin you together.

innocent Han who… pins you down and fucks your ass deep and rough, stretching you open while rubbing your clit until you cum hard around him, filling your tight hole with thick ropes of cum that drip out slowly. Afterwards he pulls you into his lap, playing with your hair and offering you his favorite snack like he hadn’t just ruined your ass.

innocent Han who… makes you sit on his cock while he’s gaming, bouncing you up and down quietly until he fills your pussy with cum mid-match, then keeps playing with one hand while the other gently rubs your back.

innocent Han who… fucks you in the practice room after everyone leaves, bending you over the mirror and pounding your pussy so hard your legs shake, covering your mouth as he cums inside you twice. When the members return he’s just stretching innocently on the floor, smiling at you softly.

innocent Han who… chokes you lightly while thrusting into your soaked pussy, biting your shoulders and leaving marks all over your chest before pumping you full until it overflows. Later he wraps you in his blanket and watches anime with you, acting like the sweetest boy.

innocent Han who… teases your clit with his fingers under the table during dinner, then drags you to the bedroom and fucks you senseless until you’re crying from overstimulation, filling every hole. He comes back out minutes later with messy hair and a cute laugh, asking if anyone wants ice cream.

innocent Han who… shares you with Minho again, holding your legs open while Minho fucks your pussy raw and Han fucks your throat at the same time, both of them filling you with cum until it’s leaking from your mouth and cunt. Afterwards Han cuddles you on the couch, humming softly and feeding you strawberries while Minho plays music like nothing ever happened.

innocent Han who… wakes you up by licking and sucking your pussy until you’re soaking, then rails you from the side, cumming deep inside before falling back asleep hugging you tightly like an innocent puppy.

innocent Han who… fucks you so hard against the wall that your back is marked, slapping your tits and calling you his needy slut while filling you up repeatedly. Minutes later he’s back to being soft, kissing your forehead and asking if you want him to draw something cute for you.

innocent Han who… becomes completely addicted to your pussy, spending hours between your legs licking and sucking on your clit like it’s his favorite candy, burying his tongue deep inside you until you’re soaking his face and cumming repeatedly. Afterwards he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, gives you the cutest smile, and asks if you want to cuddle.

innocent Han who… can’t keep his hands off your pussy even when you’re just watching a movie, slipping his fingers under your panties to rub slow circles on your clit, sliding two fingers inside and curling them while acting completely focused on the screen, then casually licking his fingers clean when he’s done.

innocent Han who… wakes up before you just to spread your legs and bury his face in your pussy, sucking and slurping loudly while you’re still half asleep, making you cum on his tongue before he even says good morning. He then crawls up and hugs you tightly like an innocent puppy.

innocent Han who… gets obsessed and spends the whole afternoon with his fingers buried in your pussy, scissoring you open and rubbing your g-spot nonstop until you squirt all over his hand and the bed. Afterwards he kisses your forehead softly and offers to bring you water like nothing happened.

innocent Han who… eats your pussy for so long that his jaw starts hurting, but he doesn’t stop — sucking your swollen clit, fucking you with his tongue, and moaning into you like he’s addicted, making you cum until your legs won’t stop shaking. When he finally pulls away his face is shiny and he just smiles cutely at you.

innocent Han who… gets hard again just from looking at your pussy after already fucking you, so he pushes your legs back and rubs his cock against your wet folds for ages, teasing your clit before sliding back inside and breeding you again. Afterwards he collapses on your chest and nuzzles you sweetly.

innocent Han who… fingers you under the blanket while the members are in the same room, pumping his fingers deep into your dripping pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb until you have to bite your hand to stay quiet. When you cum he pulls his hand out, licks it clean, and goes back to playing on his phone innocently.

innocent Han who… becomes a total pervert for your pussy, spreading you open with his fingers to stare at it for minutes, spitting on your clit and rubbing it messily before diving in to devour you again, obsessed with how wet and tight you get for him. Later he acts all shy and soft, hiding his face in your neck.

innocent Han who… fucks your pussy in short desperate bursts all day long — quickies where he pounds you hard, fills you with cum, then goes back to whatever he was doing, only to come back thirty minutes later because he’s already addicted and needs to feel you again. Each time he returns with that same bright, innocent smile.

innocent Han who… shares your pussy with Minho but stays completely fixated on it, holding your legs wide while Minho fucks you so Han can watch closely, then immediately diving in to eat Minho’s cum out of you because he can’t get enough. Afterwards both of them cuddle you like nothing filthy happened.

Okay, okay... I think I might be obsessed with Minsung at this point 😭 I want to be part of that ship

© stlllle — 2O26

⋆𝑇𝑎𝑔:@aziul-glimpse @mandyjo8719 @niku0704 @may-day-143 @rayraymylove @zzzmirella @skzsweettreats @velvetmoonlght @straystar-8 @honeybunny143 @kingsqueensandvagabonds @vernorica123

[linophobic]

i have three (3) fics scheduled wooow

[linophobic]

WAIT—

[she-wu]

260404 캐치캐치