andy

hanpop written by han jisung

[starlostjisung]

you got me feeling star lost

baby, we’re the new romantics

the best people in life are free

fic recs

anons: 🌱🐇🍕🎹🍪💙

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please do not repost, translate or steal my works!! please indicate your age in your bio. nsfw space, minors dni!! my works are fictional, they do not represent any real person.

[starlostjisung]

CAPPUCCINO AND AMERICANO

I'LL TAKE THIS AND THAT

THIS AND THAT

i’m already OBSESSED with that part and the album isn’t even out!!!!!!!! I CAN’T WAIT I NEED IT NOW

[starlostjisung]

hi andy. i don’t have anyone to talk to about this but you seem like someone i can trust and i consider you my little internet friend. i swear im not random, ive been reading your stories for a minute now (since your series with seungmin and the dating show). i have been super overwhelmed lately but i havent noticed since i tend to bottle stuff up. i was being… intimate with my boyfriend today and midway i started sobbing. like, uncontrollably and i couldnt stop for like a good 5 minutes. i genuinely thought i was broken, or that something was wrong with me. i know this is odd and probably something you wouldnt expect from an anonymous reader and follower of yours but i figured i could let it out and hopefully find some comfort as if we were close friends in real life. anyway, ill probably be popping in every once in a while to talk skz or just check in. can i be your 💙 anon? thank you for listening and i wouldnt fault you if you didnt answer this

hi love 🩷

when we bottle things up for a long time, sometimes our emotions find their own way of coming out, even at moments when we least expect them, but that doesn't mean there's something wrong with us!! i'm sure you're not broken love, this might be your body telling you that you've kept it together for too long and you need to rest a little bit, and like i said, there's nothing wrong with you

i'm sorry you've been feeling like this lately and i really hope you're able to be gentle with yourself instead of judging yourself for what happened, you truly deserve that kindness

this is a safe space for everyone, for whatever you want or need to talk about, you're always welcome here and i really hope you take care of yourself 💙

[starlostjisung]

will we get another part to my moot is dating who 🥹

i’m sorry but no, that series is finished 🥺 but i’m gonna write a han version tho, just don’t know when 🫣

[starlostjisung]

the boy behind the mask

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: spider-han!au

wc: 4.1k

warnings: mention of a character’s death; robbery; mention of weapons

summary: if with great power comes great responsibility, then who takes responsibility for han jisung?

next part >

a/n: this series is heavily inspired by tom holland’s spider-man movies (especially no way home and brand new day) so expect some very spider-man inspired feelings yay yay

han jisung is not the kind of person that people notice. it’s not because he is invisible, he simply has a habit of folding himself into the background, like he believes that the world works better when he takes up as little space as possible.

he lives in new york, in queens precisely, in an aging brick apartment building that has seen decades come and go. the lift only works when it feels like it and the pipes groan every morning as though they are stretching awake alongside the people living there. it isn’t glamorous, not by any means, but it is home, or at least, it has become one.

his apartment sits on the highest floor and the rooftop is only one flight of stairs above him. most of the people living in the building go up there to smoke or watch the fourth of july fireworks. jisung goes there because it is the only place in the city where the noise feels manageable. 

from the edge, new york stretches endlessly beneath him - fire escapes climb apartment buildings like ladders to nowhere, taxis buzz through the streets, the subway rattles overhead every few minutes, shaking loose tiny clouds of dust from nearby rooftops, and sometimes, he can hear children argue over a basketball game while an ice cream truck plays the same melody over and over again.

it is loud and messy and despite everything, jisung loves it.

his apartment looks exactly like what someone would expect from a nerd who spends more time building things than sleeping. there are circuit boards covering nearly every flat surface as well as screwdrivers and soldering irons that only he seems capable of using. there are sticky notes plastered along the walls with reminders written in his rushed handwriting, some of them crossed out and others forgotten entirely. 

the apartment isn’t large enough to separate his bedroom from his workspace, so everything blends together into one organised chaos that only he can navigate. to anyone else, his apartment would look cluttered, but to jisung, everything is exactly where it belongs. 

every morning, almost without fail, jisung leaves the building with a bag slung over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck rather than over his ears. he likes hearing the city, the familiar chatter from the corner shop owner greeting his customers, the cars and the bikes, the children running and the dogs barking. 

mrs. kim, who’s lived in the building longer than anyone can remember, often catches him on his way out.

“morning, sweetheart”

he immediately straightens up when he hears her, “morning, mrs. kim”

“you eating enough?”, every morning the same question.

“... i’m trying”

she narrows her eyes, “that means no”, she sighs before disappearing back inside her apartment, only to return a few seconds later with a foil-wrapped sandwich she’s undoubtedly made herself, “here, take it”

“you don’t have to-”

“i know”

he smiles sheepishly at her, “thank you”, and then he finally leaves the building.

he always smiles, always thanks people, always holds doors open, always helps carry groceries upstairs if someone looks like they are struggling. 

when mr. seo on the second floor complained about his television not working, jisung spent an entire saturday fixing it despite insisting he wasn’t really an expert. 

when mrs. kim’s grandson needed help with his science project, jisung stayed up until midnight helping him finish the prototype. 

he never asks for anything in return, never expects anyone to notice. he just does things, quietly and kindly. everyone knows him as the sweet kid upstairs, the one who smiles with his eyes crinkling before ducking his head like he’s embarrassed by the attention. 

“the nicest boy you’ll ever meet”, mrs. kim would often tell newcomers.

“too nice”, mr. seo would add.

people like him, but they don’t really know him, because once conversations move beyond polite greetings, jisung becomes difficult to read. he’s not shy, he can speak and joke, and sometimes he’ll even ramble excitedly about programming languages or robotics if someone accidentally stumbles onto one of his favourite topics.

but those moments are rare. more often than not, he listens instead of talking, he laughs instead of telling stories. there is always the strange feeling that every conversation stops just before reaching who han jisung really is, as if there is a wall no one quite knows how to climb.

most people assume he is a harmless nerd with messy dark hair, oversized hoodies and permanent eye bags from staying awake too late building whatever impossible invention currently occupies his desk. and maybe they are right, maybe that is all he is, a quiet boy from queens and a tech genius who spends more time talking to machines than people.

but if someone looked closely, really closely, they might notice something lingering beneath his gentle smiles, something heavy and dark.

his laughter always seems to end a second too soon and his eyes always linger on couples and families walking together just a little longer than necessary. every now and then, when he thinks no one is watching, his expression falls completely, and it’s replaced by a loneliness so profound it almost looks out of place on someone barely in his mid-twenties.

it disappears the instant someone calls his name, when a smile returns and his shoulders straighten. he becomes han jisung again, kind and helpful jisung, as though sadness is simply another thing he carries in his bag every day, hidden where no one would ever think to look.

there’s a part of jisung that exists in complete isolation, a part no one knows, a part that remains hidden in his bag and then shoved beneath his bed, between unfinished inventions, rolls of reinforced fabric, mechanical web shooters, cracked goggles and a suit that has been stitched together more times than he cares to count. a part of him that belongs to someone else entirely.

spider-man. 

it has been years since a genetically modified spider crawled somewhere it shouldn’t have and sunk its tiny fangs into the back of his hand. years since he woke up convinced he was sick, only to realise his body wasn’t the same anymore. his reflexes had become impossibly fast and his strength had grown too. walls stopped being obstacles and gravity became more of a suggestion than a rule to him.

it terrified him at first but then, it fascinated him until eventually, it became his responsibility.

so while jisung quietly finished high-school and then started university, attending lectures and submitting assignments, spider-man had this other new life.

spider-man swung between skyscrapers before dawn.

spider-man helped firefighters evacuate burning buildings.

spider-man chased armed robbers across streets. 

spider-man hung car thieves upside down from traffic lights until the police arrived. 

some nights, it was nothing more than helping an old man whose cat had climbed too high into a tree. other nights, there were gunshots and explosions, screams echoing through streets that had once felt safe.

crime in new york never sleeps and neither does he. 

the newspapers had started calling him their friendly neighbourhood spider-man years ago and they still do. children love him, adults trust him and people wave whenever they catch a glimpse of red and blue swinging overhead, sometimes they even applaud when he lands nearby after stopping another crime.

jisung never stays long enough to hear all of it. he isn’t comfortable with praise, he is only trying to help, trying to make sure people make it home, trying to give someone the chance he’d failed to give others, because sometimes, helping isn’t enough.

sometimes the city demands more than one masked hero can possibly give. there are threats that can’t be solved by webbing someone’s hands together or stopping a getaway car.

there are monsters out there, people with abilities that defy explanation, machines built to destroy entire cities, men who believe that power gives them permission to decide who deserves to live.

and five years ago, new york had almost disappeared beneath one of those threats. even now, jisung can’t think about it for too long, his chest tightens before the memories fully form.

the battle had lasted hours but to him, it had felt like days. 

smoke had swallowed the sky until afternoon looked like midnight. buildings collapsed one after another, glass rained from skyscrapers, sirens never stopped, the streets became battlefields and people screamed and ran and some of them even prayed. 

he hadn’t been alone and for once, the weight of saving the city hadn’t rested solely on his shoulders. there had been others with him, people gifted with abilities just as impossible as his own - some of them could fly, some controlled things no human should ever be able to control, some fought with technology decades ahead of its time, and others possessed strength that rivaled his.

together, they had stood against something far bigger than any one of them and together, they had won. the city still stood and the threat had been stopped, the world kept turning and the headlines called them heroes.

however, the victory came with a price no newspaper could ever fully capture. entire blocks had been reduced to rubble, thousands of families had lost their homes and hundreds had lost people they loved.

jisung spent hours afterwards helping search through debris, refusing to take off the suit because somehow wearing it made facing the devastation a little easier, but that was until he found her.

his aunt may.

the woman who had raised him after life had already taken too much from him.

the woman who had patched scraped knees when he was a kid, stayed awake helping him study before exams, celebrated every tiny accomplishment like it was the greatest achievement in history, cooked his favourite meal for his birthday every year.

the woman who had loved him with every piece of her heart. 

the woman who always told him to come home safe, every single time, was the one that didn’t come home safe, not that day.

there had been no miracle, no last-minute rescue, no impossible save, no amount of strength or superpower had been enough to pull back time.

jisung still remembers kneeling beside her, he remembers the dust covering her face, he remembers crying and begging and promising impossible things to someone who could no longer hear him.

five years later, he still wakes up some nights hearing his own voice from that day. he still reaches for a phone that will never receive another call from her. he still catches himself buying her favourite tea before he remembers there is no one waiting to drink it.

but aunt may isn’t the only person he’d failed to keep close to him that day. she isn’t the only name that haunts quiet nights on the rooftop. he had lost-

ding.

jisung blinks when he hears his phone, the weight of old memories slowly dissolving as the present pulls him back, back to now, back to responsibility. he grabs his phone and the screen lights up with the notification from the app he has to keep track of the crimes in the city.

it’s just a dark screen covered with a live map of new york, constantly updating with alerts pulled from police scanners, emergency dispatches, traffic cameras, public reports and a handful of algorithms jisung had spent a lot of time writing himself. it’s not perfect but it’s fast.

there’s a red marker blinking insistently is western queens.

possible armed robbery in progress.

national bank.

multiple suspects reported.

hostages possible.

jisung’s eyes scan the details in seconds then he locks his phone and muscle memory takes over. he takes his clothes off and then puts on the suit. red and blue, a little faded around the gloves. he slips into it, fastening the web shooters around his wrists before flexing each hand to make sure they work.

he then picks up the mask and stares at the white lenses. he can see himself in them, messy dark hair and his gentle eyes. he pulls the mask over his head and then the world narrows behind the lenses.

han jisung disappears and spider-man straightens his shoulders. 

outside, a siren wails in the distance and he steps towards the window and pushes it even more open.

a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, “i guess i’ll save the existential crisis for later”

with one fluid motion, he climbs onto the fire escape, fires a web into the skyline and then disappears between the buildings, swinging towards yet another day where someone needs their friendly neighbourhood spider-man.

“one day”, inspector lee says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the line of robbers cocooned in thick white webs, “i’d love to arrive at a crime scene before you”

jisung, or rather, spider-man stands upside down from a streetlight a few feet away, his arms folded over his chest as if he’s giving the situation serious thought.

“mmhm”, he hums as inspector lee waits, “have you tried driving faster?”

a nearby officer snorts and inspector lee shoots him a look. the officer immediately coughs into his fist and pretends to be deeply interested in taking photographs of the crime scene.

“you know”, inspector lee says, turning back to the masked hero, “that wasn’t funny”

“it wasn’t?”

“no”

“it was a little funny”

inspector lee sighs, he is the sigh of a man who has had this exact conversation far too many times, “get down”

jisung flips effortlessly from the streetlight, landing lightly on the ground without making a sound. the scene around them is already under control - police officers move in and out of the bank, escorting frightened employees outside while paramedics check them over for injuries. curious onlookers gather behind the barricades with their phones held high, eager to catch another glimpse of new york’s most recognisable masked hero.

six robbers remain firmly attached to the traffic light at the corner of the street and well, jisung perhaps has gotten a little creative with how he leaves criminals - one hangs upside down, another is stuck sideways, a third somehow had both shoes webbed together, but none of them are going anywhere.

inspector lee glances towards the traffic light before looking back at him, “was all of this really necessary?”

“they can still breathe”, jisung says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“they’re hanging from a traffic light”

“no, they’re securely hanging from a traffic light”

inspector lee closes his eyes and then sighs, “i have paperwork because of you”

“you have paperwork because of them”, jisung says, pointing towards the robbers, “i just… left them there for you”

the same officer from before laughs again, loud enough that inspector lee hears him again.

“officer yang”

“sorry, sir”

inspector lee turns around again, shaking his head, “i spent years studying criminal investigation. i graduated at the top of my class. i climbed through the ranks and i became head inspector”

“i know. congratulations, by the way”

“and every single week”, inspector lee continues, ignoring what jisung said, “i arrive somewhere to find criminals wrapped like oversized dumplings”

“they’re burritos”

inspector lee gestures towards the traffic light, “does that look like a burrito to you?”

jisung tilts his head, “a little”

inspector lee stares at him and jisung stares back, none of them saying anything until inspector lee shakes his head again and exhales.

“i hate talking to you”

“no, you don’t”

a reluctant smile threatens the corner of inspector lee’s mouth before he forces it away, “no, i don’t”

their conversations always end up like this. the first few months after spider-man appeared in new york, things had been difficult, the police had considered him a threat, something unpredictable, and they didn’t particularly trust him. over the years, however, it’s become something close to a partnership. spider-man doesn’t interfere too much with investigations and the police don’t waste resources trying to arrest the man who keeps saving lives.

if a situation grows too dangerous before officers arrive, spider-man handles it.

if spider-man uncovers evidence connected to larger criminal organisations, it somehow finds its way onto inspector’s lee desk.

“so”, inspector lee says, pulling a small notebook from his pocket, “anything i should know?”

jisung nods towards the bank, “eight hostages”

“already confirmed”

“one security guard broke his shoulder trying to stop them”, jisung says and inspector writes it down, “ambulance has him. the guy with the tattoo”, he says as he points towards one of the robbers hanging from the traffic light, “is the leader. he’s carrying a burner phone in his left jacket pocket. they keep mentioning someone called dragon, might be worth looking into”

inspector lee writes everything and then pauses, “anything else?”

“they came in through the underground parking garage”

“good”

“they also complain a lot”

“i imagine getting webbed to a traffic light does that”, inspector lee says as he laughs before snapping his notebook shut, “well, i suppose this is the part where you vanish before i can officially thank you”

“you say thank you every time”, jisung says as he turns towards him.

“i know”, inspector lee says as he steps closer, lowering his voice just enough so only spider-man can hear him, “you all right?”

it’s a simple question, one that he has been asking him lately, every time something happened. he doesn’t ask because the robberies are particularly dangerous, he asks him because he has known spider-man long enough to notice the days when his movements are a little slower, when his jokes don’t come as easily or when something behind those white lenses seems heavier.

jisung answers with the same response he always gives him, “i’m okay”

inspector lee studies him for a second and he knows that’s probably not the truth but still, he nods his head, “try to stay out of trouble and rest a bit, okay?”

jisung lets out a laugh, “you know that’s impossible, right?”

“i know”

a web shoots upwards with a familiar sound, attaching itself somewhere high above the buildings and jisung gives inspector lee a casual salute before he leaves.

“officer yang is laughing again”

“i’ll put it in his performance review”, inspector lee says.

“harsh”

before inspector lee can answer, jisung pushes off the pavement, the web goes taut and then his body lifts into the air, soaring above flashing police lights and the gathering crowd. a chorus of excited cheers follows him down the street, children point excitedly towards the sky and people scream for him. within seconds, the red and blue figure disappears between the buildings, becoming nothing more than a blur and only when he is several blocks away does he finally slow.

he lands on the rooftop of an old laundromat tucked between two apartment buildings, hidden from the busy streets below. no one ever follows him there, that’s why he keeps some clothes hidden there for situations like this. he slips through the rooftop access door, changes quickly into clean clothes and then folds the suit into the bag that never leaves his side.

by the time he steps back onto the street, jisung is just another boy walking through queens. his hair is messy from pulling off the mask, the bag hangs from one shoulder and his hands are tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he blends into the stream of people but no one gives him a second glance.

when he reaches his building, the adrenaline has long since begun to fade and the familiar ache in his body returns. his wrists feel sore from firing web after web and he’s sure there’s a bruise forming somewhere beneath the sleeve of his hoodie where one of the robbers had clipped him with the butt of a rifle.

it’s nothing serious, nothing he’s not used to by now. 

the city is calmer now, people walk home with their grocery bags and restaurants spill warm light onto the sidewalks. somewhere down the block, someone plays music through an open apartment window, the melody drifting between the buildings before disappearing into the traffic.

he pushes open the front door of the building, the familiar creak of old hinges greeting him.

“jisung!”

he barely takes two steps before he hears his name. mrs. kim is walking towards him, with her bag hanging from her arm and her glasses perched near the end of her nose.

“there you are”, she says the moment she gets closer to him.

jisung smiles at her, “hi, mrs. kim”

she narrows her eyes as she looks at him properly, “you look tired”

he laughs softly, “i always look tired”

“you look extra tired”

“well… i’ve had a long day”

she hums and then pats his arm as she walks him towards the lift, “did you eat today?”

“... kind of”

“kind of?”, she sighs so loudly that it echoes through the lobby, “you children are impossible”

jisung laughs again, “i’m not a child, mrs. kim”

“you sure behave like one”

jisung chuckles quietly, shaking his head as he waits for the lift, “i’ll eat a proper dinner today”

“you promise?” “i promise”, he says as he nods his head.

the lift arrives then, the doors sliding open just slowly enough to remind everyone in the building that replacing it would probably be a good idea.

mrs. kim doesn’t step inside, “i’m going to a restaurant with my sister”

jisung nods his head when he steps in, “tell her i said hi”

“i will”

he presses the button for the top floor and just as the doors begin closing, mrs. kim suddenly snaps her fingers.

“oh! jisung!”

jisung reaches out, stopping the doors from shutting completely, “what?”

“you have new neighbours”

he blinks, “i do?”

“yes, the apartment across from yours”

he glances towards the ceiling instinctively, as though he might somehow see through it to his hallway.

“i thought nobody wanted that apartment”

“well, someone has rented it now”

“huh”

mrs. kim smiles at him, “they moved in today. there’s two of them and i think they might be around your age”

jisung gives a small nod again, “that’s nice”

mrs. kim tries again, “they seem lovely”

“glad to hear”, he says as mrs. kim watches him expectantly and he watches her back, “... what?”

she points an accusing finger at him, “you should introduce yourself”

“i…”, he says, scratching the back of his neck… “sure”

“you will”

“i just said i will”

mrs. kim shakes her head, “no, you just said “sure””

“isn’t that the same thing?”

“no”

jisung laughs, “okay, fine. i’ll introduce myself, happy?”

“very happy”

the lift doors try to close again and jisung finally lets them, “have fun with your sister”

“eat something!”

“i will”

“and sleep!”

“i’ll try”

the doors slide shut before she can say anything else. he hears her mutter, something like “kids these days”, from the other side, making him smile despite himself.

the lift begins its slow climb and his smile fades naturally. his thoughts drift back to the robbery, to what he had heard the robbers saying and the burner phone. he mentally retraces every second, he’s almost sure he didn’t miss anything, but you never know.

the lift jolts slightly as it reaches his floor and the doors open. jisung steps into the quiet hallway, only two apartments occupying the floor, his and the one directly opposite.

mrs. kim wasn’t exaggerating, someone has definitely moved in. there are cardboard boxes in the hallway, stacked against the wall with labels scribbled across them in thick black marker.

kitchen

books

bedroom

bathroom

FRAGILE!

a rolled-up rug leans against the opposite apartment’s doorway, which stands wide open. from inside comes the muffled sound of furniture scraping across hardwood floors. he can hear someone laughing and then another voice responding, too quiet for him to make out. he glances towards the open apartment for only a second, long enough to notice more boxes scattered inside, but then, he looks away.

he’ll meet them eventually.

probably.

maybe.

he shifts the bag on his shoulder and fishes his keys from his hoodie pocket. the metal jingles softly and the key slides into the lock. he twists it and just as his fingers curl around the doorknob, he hears a voice that comes from behind him, warm and curious.

“hello?”

a/n: okay so first of all, i refuse to name spider-man’s aunt other name that isn’t may, i’m sorry but that is simply her name and i can’t change it!! also… this series has officially made me break my own rule of not posting a series until i’ve either finished writing it or have most of it written, but i’m just way too excited about this one and i can’t keep it to myself anymore. the downside is that, because i don’t have a lot of it written, updates are gonna be a little slow (especially right now), so i’m sorry for making you wait between chapters, i promise i’m working on it. i hope you love this story as much as i already do. thank you so much for reading and sticking with me 🩷

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[starlostjisung]

question for my native english speakers: why is it “friendly neighbourhood spider-man” and not “friendly neighbour spider-man” if he’s a person???????

honestly i was going crazy with that while writing

[starlostjisung]

the boy behind the mask

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: spider-han!au

wc: 4.1k

warnings: mention of a character’s death; robbery; mention of weapons

summary: if with great power comes great responsibility, then who takes responsibility for han jisung?

next part >

a/n: this series is heavily inspired by tom holland’s spider-man movies (especially no way home and brand new day) so expect some very spider-man inspired feelings yay yay

han jisung is not the kind of person that people notice. it’s not because he is invisible, he simply has a habit of folding himself into the background, like he believes that the world works better when he takes up as little space as possible.

he lives in new york, in queens precisely, in an aging brick apartment building that has seen decades come and go. the lift only works when it feels like it and the pipes groan every morning as though they are stretching awake alongside the people living there. it isn’t glamorous, not by any means, but it is home, or at least, it has become one.

his apartment sits on the highest floor and the rooftop is only one flight of stairs above him. most of the people living in the building go up there to smoke or watch the fourth of july fireworks. jisung goes there because it is the only place in the city where the noise feels manageable. 

from the edge, new york stretches endlessly beneath him - fire escapes climb apartment buildings like ladders to nowhere, taxis buzz through the streets, the subway rattles overhead every few minutes, shaking loose tiny clouds of dust from nearby rooftops, and sometimes, he can hear children argue over a basketball game while an ice cream truck plays the same melody over and over again.

it is loud and messy and despite everything, jisung loves it.

his apartment looks exactly like what someone would expect from a nerd who spends more time building things than sleeping. there are circuit boards covering nearly every flat surface as well as screwdrivers and soldering irons that only he seems capable of using. there are sticky notes plastered along the walls with reminders written in his rushed handwriting, some of them crossed out and others forgotten entirely. 

the apartment isn’t large enough to separate his bedroom from his workspace, so everything blends together into one organised chaos that only he can navigate. to anyone else, his apartment would look cluttered, but to jisung, everything is exactly where it belongs. 

every morning, almost without fail, jisung leaves the building with a bag slung over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck rather than over his ears. he likes hearing the city, the familiar chatter from the corner shop owner greeting his customers, the cars and the bikes, the children running and the dogs barking. 

mrs. kim, who’s lived in the building longer than anyone can remember, often catches him on his way out.

“morning, sweetheart”

he immediately straightens up when he hears her, “morning, mrs. kim”

“you eating enough?”, every morning the same question.

“... i’m trying”

she narrows her eyes, “that means no”, she sighs before disappearing back inside her apartment, only to return a few seconds later with a foil-wrapped sandwich she’s undoubtedly made herself, “here, take it”

“you don’t have to-”

“i know”

he smiles sheepishly at her, “thank you”, and then he finally leaves the building.

he always smiles, always thanks people, always holds doors open, always helps carry groceries upstairs if someone looks like they are struggling. 

when mr. seo on the second floor complained about his television not working, jisung spent an entire saturday fixing it despite insisting he wasn’t really an expert. 

when mrs. kim’s grandson needed help with his science project, jisung stayed up until midnight helping him finish the prototype. 

he never asks for anything in return, never expects anyone to notice. he just does things, quietly and kindly. everyone knows him as the sweet kid upstairs, the one who smiles with his eyes crinkling before ducking his head like he’s embarrassed by the attention. 

“the nicest boy you’ll ever meet”, mrs. kim would often tell newcomers.

“too nice”, mr. seo would add.

people like him, but they don’t really know him, because once conversations move beyond polite greetings, jisung becomes difficult to read. he’s not shy, he can speak and joke, and sometimes he’ll even ramble excitedly about programming languages or robotics if someone accidentally stumbles onto one of his favourite topics.

but those moments are rare. more often than not, he listens instead of talking, he laughs instead of telling stories. there is always the strange feeling that every conversation stops just before reaching who han jisung really is, as if there is a wall no one quite knows how to climb.

most people assume he is a harmless nerd with messy dark hair, oversized hoodies and permanent eye bags from staying awake too late building whatever impossible invention currently occupies his desk. and maybe they are right, maybe that is all he is, a quiet boy from queens and a tech genius who spends more time talking to machines than people.

but if someone looked closely, really closely, they might notice something lingering beneath his gentle smiles, something heavy and dark.

his laughter always seems to end a second too soon and his eyes always linger on couples and families walking together just a little longer than necessary. every now and then, when he thinks no one is watching, his expression falls completely, and it’s replaced by a loneliness so profound it almost looks out of place on someone barely in his mid-twenties.

it disappears the instant someone calls his name, when a smile returns and his shoulders straighten. he becomes han jisung again, kind and helpful jisung, as though sadness is simply another thing he carries in his bag every day, hidden where no one would ever think to look.

there’s a part of jisung that exists in complete isolation, a part no one knows, a part that remains hidden in his bag and then shoved beneath his bed, between unfinished inventions, rolls of reinforced fabric, mechanical web shooters, cracked goggles and a suit that has been stitched together more times than he cares to count. a part of him that belongs to someone else entirely.

spider-man. 

it has been years since a genetically modified spider crawled somewhere it shouldn’t have and sunk its tiny fangs into the back of his hand. years since he woke up convinced he was sick, only to realise his body wasn’t the same anymore. his reflexes had become impossibly fast and his strength had grown too. walls stopped being obstacles and gravity became more of a suggestion than a rule to him.

it terrified him at first but then, it fascinated him until eventually, it became his responsibility.

so while jisung quietly finished high-school and then started university, attending lectures and submitting assignments, spider-man had this other new life.

spider-man swung between skyscrapers before dawn.

spider-man helped firefighters evacuate burning buildings.

spider-man chased armed robbers across streets. 

spider-man hung car thieves upside down from traffic lights until the police arrived. 

some nights, it was nothing more than helping an old man whose cat had climbed too high into a tree. other nights, there were gunshots and explosions, screams echoing through streets that had once felt safe.

crime in new york never sleeps and neither does he. 

the newspapers had started calling him their friendly neighbourhood spider-man years ago and they still do. children love him, adults trust him and people wave whenever they catch a glimpse of red and blue swinging overhead, sometimes they even applaud when he lands nearby after stopping another crime.

jisung never stays long enough to hear all of it. he isn’t comfortable with praise, he is only trying to help, trying to make sure people make it home, trying to give someone the chance he’d failed to give others, because sometimes, helping isn’t enough.

sometimes the city demands more than one masked hero can possibly give. there are threats that can’t be solved by webbing someone’s hands together or stopping a getaway car.

there are monsters out there, people with abilities that defy explanation, machines built to destroy entire cities, men who believe that power gives them permission to decide who deserves to live.

and five years ago, new york had almost disappeared beneath one of those threats. even now, jisung can’t think about it for too long, his chest tightens before the memories fully form.

the battle had lasted hours but to him, it had felt like days. 

smoke had swallowed the sky until afternoon looked like midnight. buildings collapsed one after another, glass rained from skyscrapers, sirens never stopped, the streets became battlefields and people screamed and ran and some of them even prayed. 

he hadn’t been alone and for once, the weight of saving the city hadn’t rested solely on his shoulders. there had been others with him, people gifted with abilities just as impossible as his own - some of them could fly, some controlled things no human should ever be able to control, some fought with technology decades ahead of its time, and others possessed strength that rivaled his.

together, they had stood against something far bigger than any one of them and together, they had won. the city still stood and the threat had been stopped, the world kept turning and the headlines called them heroes.

however, the victory came with a price no newspaper could ever fully capture. entire blocks had been reduced to rubble, thousands of families had lost their homes and hundreds had lost people they loved.

jisung spent hours afterwards helping search through debris, refusing to take off the suit because somehow wearing it made facing the devastation a little easier, but that was until he found her.

his aunt may.

the woman who had raised him after life had already taken too much from him.

the woman who had patched scraped knees when he was a kid, stayed awake helping him study before exams, celebrated every tiny accomplishment like it was the greatest achievement in history, cooked his favourite meal for his birthday every year.

the woman who had loved him with every piece of her heart. 

the woman who always told him to come home safe, every single time, was the one that didn’t come home safe, not that day.

there had been no miracle, no last-minute rescue, no impossible save, no amount of strength or superpower had been enough to pull back time.

jisung still remembers kneeling beside her, he remembers the dust covering her face, he remembers crying and begging and promising impossible things to someone who could no longer hear him.

five years later, he still wakes up some nights hearing his own voice from that day. he still reaches for a phone that will never receive another call from her. he still catches himself buying her favourite tea before he remembers there is no one waiting to drink it.

but aunt may isn’t the only person he’d failed to keep close to him that day. she isn’t the only name that haunts quiet nights on the rooftop. he had lost-

ding.

jisung blinks when he hears his phone, the weight of old memories slowly dissolving as the present pulls him back, back to now, back to responsibility. he grabs his phone and the screen lights up with the notification from the app he has to keep track of the crimes in the city.

it’s just a dark screen covered with a live map of new york, constantly updating with alerts pulled from police scanners, emergency dispatches, traffic cameras, public reports and a handful of algorithms jisung had spent a lot of time writing himself. it’s not perfect but it’s fast.

there’s a red marker blinking insistently is western queens.

possible armed robbery in progress.

national bank.

multiple suspects reported.

hostages possible.

jisung’s eyes scan the details in seconds then he locks his phone and muscle memory takes over. he takes his clothes off and then puts on the suit. red and blue, a little faded around the gloves. he slips into it, fastening the web shooters around his wrists before flexing each hand to make sure they work.

he then picks up the mask and stares at the white lenses. he can see himself in them, messy dark hair and his gentle eyes. he pulls the mask over his head and then the world narrows behind the lenses.

han jisung disappears and spider-man straightens his shoulders. 

outside, a siren wails in the distance and he steps towards the window and pushes it even more open.

a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, “i guess i’ll save the existential crisis for later”

with one fluid motion, he climbs onto the fire escape, fires a web into the skyline and then disappears between the buildings, swinging towards yet another day where someone needs their friendly neighbourhood spider-man.

“one day”, inspector lee says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the line of robbers cocooned in thick white webs, “i’d love to arrive at a crime scene before you”

jisung, or rather, spider-man stands upside down from a streetlight a few feet away, his arms folded over his chest as if he’s giving the situation serious thought.

“mmhm”, he hums as inspector lee waits, “have you tried driving faster?”

a nearby officer snorts and inspector lee shoots him a look. the officer immediately coughs into his fist and pretends to be deeply interested in taking photographs of the crime scene.

“you know”, inspector lee says, turning back to the masked hero, “that wasn’t funny”

“it wasn’t?”

“no”

“it was a little funny”

inspector lee sighs, he is the sigh of a man who has had this exact conversation far too many times, “get down”

jisung flips effortlessly from the streetlight, landing lightly on the ground without making a sound. the scene around them is already under control - police officers move in and out of the bank, escorting frightened employees outside while paramedics check them over for injuries. curious onlookers gather behind the barricades with their phones held high, eager to catch another glimpse of new york’s most recognisable masked hero.

six robbers remain firmly attached to the traffic light at the corner of the street and well, jisung perhaps has gotten a little creative with how he leaves criminals - one hangs upside down, another is stuck sideways, a third somehow had both shoes webbed together, but none of them are going anywhere.

inspector lee glances towards the traffic light before looking back at him, “was all of this really necessary?”

“they can still breathe”, jisung says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“they’re hanging from a traffic light”

“no, they’re securely hanging from a traffic light”

inspector lee closes his eyes and then sighs, “i have paperwork because of you”

“you have paperwork because of them”, jisung says, pointing towards the robbers, “i just… left them there for you”

the same officer from before laughs again, loud enough that inspector lee hears him again.

“officer yang”

“sorry, sir”

inspector lee turns around again, shaking his head, “i spent years studying criminal investigation. i graduated at the top of my class. i climbed through the ranks and i became head inspector”

“i know. congratulations, by the way”

“and every single week”, inspector lee continues, ignoring what jisung said, “i arrive somewhere to find criminals wrapped like oversized dumplings”

“they’re burritos”

inspector lee gestures towards the traffic light, “does that look like a burrito to you?”

jisung tilts his head, “a little”

inspector lee stares at him and jisung stares back, none of them saying anything until inspector lee shakes his head again and exhales.

“i hate talking to you”

“no, you don’t”

a reluctant smile threatens the corner of inspector lee’s mouth before he forces it away, “no, i don’t”

their conversations always end up like this. the first few months after spider-man appeared in new york, things had been difficult, the police had considered him a threat, something unpredictable, and they didn’t particularly trust him. over the years, however, it’s become something close to a partnership. spider-man doesn’t interfere too much with investigations and the police don’t waste resources trying to arrest the man who keeps saving lives.

if a situation grows too dangerous before officers arrive, spider-man handles it.

if spider-man uncovers evidence connected to larger criminal organisations, it somehow finds its way onto inspector’s lee desk.

“so”, inspector lee says, pulling a small notebook from his pocket, “anything i should know?”

jisung nods towards the bank, “eight hostages”

“already confirmed”

“one security guard broke his shoulder trying to stop them”, jisung says and inspector writes it down, “ambulance has him. the guy with the tattoo”, he says as he points towards one of the robbers hanging from the traffic light, “is the leader. he’s carrying a burner phone in his left jacket pocket. they keep mentioning someone called dragon, might be worth looking into”

inspector lee writes everything and then pauses, “anything else?”

“they came in through the underground parking garage”

“good”

“they also complain a lot”

“i imagine getting webbed to a traffic light does that”, inspector lee says as he laughs before snapping his notebook shut, “well, i suppose this is the part where you vanish before i can officially thank you”

“you say thank you every time”, jisung says as he turns towards him.

“i know”, inspector lee says as he steps closer, lowering his voice just enough so only spider-man can hear him, “you all right?”

it’s a simple question, one that he has been asking him lately, every time something happened. he doesn’t ask because the robberies are particularly dangerous, he asks him because he has known spider-man long enough to notice the days when his movements are a little slower, when his jokes don’t come as easily or when something behind those white lenses seems heavier.

jisung answers with the same response he always gives him, “i’m okay”

inspector lee studies him for a second and he knows that’s probably not the truth but still, he nods his head, “try to stay out of trouble and rest a bit, okay?”

jisung lets out a laugh, “you know that’s impossible, right?”

“i know”

a web shoots upwards with a familiar sound, attaching itself somewhere high above the buildings and jisung gives inspector lee a casual salute before he leaves.

“officer yang is laughing again”

“i’ll put it in his performance review”, inspector lee says.

“harsh”

before inspector lee can answer, jisung pushes off the pavement, the web goes taut and then his body lifts into the air, soaring above flashing police lights and the gathering crowd. a chorus of excited cheers follows him down the street, children point excitedly towards the sky and people scream for him. within seconds, the red and blue figure disappears between the buildings, becoming nothing more than a blur and only when he is several blocks away does he finally slow.

he lands on the rooftop of an old laundromat tucked between two apartment buildings, hidden from the busy streets below. no one ever follows him there, that’s why he keeps some clothes hidden there for situations like this. he slips through the rooftop access door, changes quickly into clean clothes and then folds the suit into the bag that never leaves his side.

by the time he steps back onto the street, jisung is just another boy walking through queens. his hair is messy from pulling off the mask, the bag hangs from one shoulder and his hands are tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he blends into the stream of people but no one gives him a second glance.

when he reaches his building, the adrenaline has long since begun to fade and the familiar ache in his body returns. his wrists feel sore from firing web after web and he’s sure there’s a bruise forming somewhere beneath the sleeve of his hoodie where one of the robbers had clipped him with the butt of a rifle.

it’s nothing serious, nothing he’s not used to by now. 

the city is calmer now, people walk home with their grocery bags and restaurants spill warm light onto the sidewalks. somewhere down the block, someone plays music through an open apartment window, the melody drifting between the buildings before disappearing into the traffic.

he pushes open the front door of the building, the familiar creak of old hinges greeting him.

“jisung!”

he barely takes two steps before he hears his name. mrs. kim is walking towards him, with her bag hanging from her arm and her glasses perched near the end of her nose.

“there you are”, she says the moment she gets closer to him.

jisung smiles at her, “hi, mrs. kim”

she narrows her eyes as she looks at him properly, “you look tired”

he laughs softly, “i always look tired”

“you look extra tired”

“well… i’ve had a long day”

she hums and then pats his arm as she walks him towards the lift, “did you eat today?”

“... kind of”

“kind of?”, she sighs so loudly that it echoes through the lobby, “you children are impossible”

jisung laughs again, “i’m not a child, mrs. kim”

“you sure behave like one”

jisung chuckles quietly, shaking his head as he waits for the lift, “i’ll eat a proper dinner today”

“you promise?” “i promise”, he says as he nods his head.

the lift arrives then, the doors sliding open just slowly enough to remind everyone in the building that replacing it would probably be a good idea.

mrs. kim doesn’t step inside, “i’m going to a restaurant with my sister”

jisung nods his head when he steps in, “tell her i said hi”

“i will”

he presses the button for the top floor and just as the doors begin closing, mrs. kim suddenly snaps her fingers.

“oh! jisung!”

jisung reaches out, stopping the doors from shutting completely, “what?”

“you have new neighbours”

he blinks, “i do?”

“yes, the apartment across from yours”

he glances towards the ceiling instinctively, as though he might somehow see through it to his hallway.

“i thought nobody wanted that apartment”

“well, someone has rented it now”

“huh”

mrs. kim smiles at him, “they moved in today. there’s two of them and i think they might be around your age”

jisung gives a small nod again, “that’s nice”

mrs. kim tries again, “they seem lovely”

“glad to hear”, he says as mrs. kim watches him expectantly and he watches her back, “... what?”

she points an accusing finger at him, “you should introduce yourself”

“i…”, he says, scratching the back of his neck… “sure”

“you will”

“i just said i will”

mrs. kim shakes her head, “no, you just said “sure””

“isn’t that the same thing?”

“no”

jisung laughs, “okay, fine. i’ll introduce myself, happy?”

“very happy”

the lift doors try to close again and jisung finally lets them, “have fun with your sister”

“eat something!”

“i will”

“and sleep!”

“i’ll try”

the doors slide shut before she can say anything else. he hears her mutter, something like “kids these days”, from the other side, making him smile despite himself.

the lift begins its slow climb and his smile fades naturally. his thoughts drift back to the robbery, to what he had heard the robbers saying and the burner phone. he mentally retraces every second, he’s almost sure he didn’t miss anything, but you never know.

the lift jolts slightly as it reaches his floor and the doors open. jisung steps into the quiet hallway, only two apartments occupying the floor, his and the one directly opposite.

mrs. kim wasn’t exaggerating, someone has definitely moved in. there are cardboard boxes in the hallway, stacked against the wall with labels scribbled across them in thick black marker.

kitchen

books

bedroom

bathroom

FRAGILE!

a rolled-up rug leans against the opposite apartment’s doorway, which stands wide open. from inside comes the muffled sound of furniture scraping across hardwood floors. he can hear someone laughing and then another voice responding, too quiet for him to make out. he glances towards the open apartment for only a second, long enough to notice more boxes scattered inside, but then, he looks away.

he’ll meet them eventually.

probably.

maybe.

he shifts the bag on his shoulder and fishes his keys from his hoodie pocket. the metal jingles softly and the key slides into the lock. he twists it and just as his fingers curl around the doorknob, he hears a voice that comes from behind him, warm and curious.

“hello?”

a/n: okay so first of all, i refuse to name spider-man’s aunt other name that isn’t may, i’m sorry but that is simply her name and i can’t change it!! also… this series has officially made me break my own rule of not posting a series until i’ve either finished writing it or have most of it written, but i’m just way too excited about this one and i can’t keep it to myself anymore. the downside is that, because i don’t have a lot of it written, updates are gonna be a little slow (especially right now), so i’m sorry for making you wait between chapters, i promise i’m working on it. i hope you love this story as much as i already do. thank you so much for reading and sticking with me 🩷

the library

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[starlostjisung]

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[starlostjisung]

the boy behind the mask

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: spider-han!au

wc: 4.1k

warnings: mention of a character’s death; robbery; mention of weapons

summary: if with great power comes great responsibility, then who takes responsibility for han jisung?

next part >

a/n: this series is heavily inspired by tom holland’s spider-man movies (especially no way home and brand new day) so expect some very spider-man inspired feelings yay yay

han jisung is not the kind of person that people notice. it’s not because he is invisible, he simply has a habit of folding himself into the background, like he believes that the world works better when he takes up as little space as possible.

he lives in new york, in queens precisely, in an aging brick apartment building that has seen decades come and go. the lift only works when it feels like it and the pipes groan every morning as though they are stretching awake alongside the people living there. it isn’t glamorous, not by any means, but it is home, or at least, it has become one.

his apartment sits on the highest floor and the rooftop is only one flight of stairs above him. most of the people living in the building go up there to smoke or watch the fourth of july fireworks. jisung goes there because it is the only place in the city where the noise feels manageable. 

from the edge, new york stretches endlessly beneath him - fire escapes climb apartment buildings like ladders to nowhere, taxis buzz through the streets, the subway rattles overhead every few minutes, shaking loose tiny clouds of dust from nearby rooftops, and sometimes, he can hear children argue over a basketball game while an ice cream truck plays the same melody over and over again.

it is loud and messy and despite everything, jisung loves it.

his apartment looks exactly like what someone would expect from a nerd who spends more time building things than sleeping. there are circuit boards covering nearly every flat surface as well as screwdrivers and soldering irons that only he seems capable of using. there are sticky notes plastered along the walls with reminders written in his rushed handwriting, some of them crossed out and others forgotten entirely. 

the apartment isn’t large enough to separate his bedroom from his workspace, so everything blends together into one organised chaos that only he can navigate. to anyone else, his apartment would look cluttered, but to jisung, everything is exactly where it belongs. 

every morning, almost without fail, jisung leaves the building with a bag slung over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck rather than over his ears. he likes hearing the city, the familiar chatter from the corner shop owner greeting his customers, the cars and the bikes, the children running and the dogs barking. 

mrs. kim, who’s lived in the building longer than anyone can remember, often catches him on his way out.

“morning, sweetheart”

he immediately straightens up when he hears her, “morning, mrs. kim”

“you eating enough?”, every morning the same question.

“... i’m trying”

she narrows her eyes, “that means no”, she sighs before disappearing back inside her apartment, only to return a few seconds later with a foil-wrapped sandwich she’s undoubtedly made herself, “here, take it”

“you don’t have to-”

“i know”

he smiles sheepishly at her, “thank you”, and then he finally leaves the building.

he always smiles, always thanks people, always holds doors open, always helps carry groceries upstairs if someone looks like they are struggling. 

when mr. seo on the second floor complained about his television not working, jisung spent an entire saturday fixing it despite insisting he wasn’t really an expert. 

when mrs. kim’s grandson needed help with his science project, jisung stayed up until midnight helping him finish the prototype. 

he never asks for anything in return, never expects anyone to notice. he just does things, quietly and kindly. everyone knows him as the sweet kid upstairs, the one who smiles with his eyes crinkling before ducking his head like he’s embarrassed by the attention. 

“the nicest boy you’ll ever meet”, mrs. kim would often tell newcomers.

“too nice”, mr. seo would add.

people like him, but they don’t really know him, because once conversations move beyond polite greetings, jisung becomes difficult to read. he’s not shy, he can speak and joke, and sometimes he’ll even ramble excitedly about programming languages or robotics if someone accidentally stumbles onto one of his favourite topics.

but those moments are rare. more often than not, he listens instead of talking, he laughs instead of telling stories. there is always the strange feeling that every conversation stops just before reaching who han jisung really is, as if there is a wall no one quite knows how to climb.

most people assume he is a harmless nerd with messy dark hair, oversized hoodies and permanent eye bags from staying awake too late building whatever impossible invention currently occupies his desk. and maybe they are right, maybe that is all he is, a quiet boy from queens and a tech genius who spends more time talking to machines than people.

but if someone looked closely, really closely, they might notice something lingering beneath his gentle smiles, something heavy and dark.

his laughter always seems to end a second too soon and his eyes always linger on couples and families walking together just a little longer than necessary. every now and then, when he thinks no one is watching, his expression falls completely, and it’s replaced by a loneliness so profound it almost looks out of place on someone barely in his mid-twenties.

it disappears the instant someone calls his name, when a smile returns and his shoulders straighten. he becomes han jisung again, kind and helpful jisung, as though sadness is simply another thing he carries in his bag every day, hidden where no one would ever think to look.

there’s a part of jisung that exists in complete isolation, a part no one knows, a part that remains hidden in his bag and then shoved beneath his bed, between unfinished inventions, rolls of reinforced fabric, mechanical web shooters, cracked goggles and a suit that has been stitched together more times than he cares to count. a part of him that belongs to someone else entirely.

spider-man. 

it has been years since a genetically modified spider crawled somewhere it shouldn’t have and sunk its tiny fangs into the back of his hand. years since he woke up convinced he was sick, only to realise his body wasn’t the same anymore. his reflexes had become impossibly fast and his strength had grown too. walls stopped being obstacles and gravity became more of a suggestion than a rule to him.

it terrified him at first but then, it fascinated him until eventually, it became his responsibility.

so while jisung quietly finished high-school and then started university, attending lectures and submitting assignments, spider-man had this other new life.

spider-man swung between skyscrapers before dawn.

spider-man helped firefighters evacuate burning buildings.

spider-man chased armed robbers across streets. 

spider-man hung car thieves upside down from traffic lights until the police arrived. 

some nights, it was nothing more than helping an old man whose cat had climbed too high into a tree. other nights, there were gunshots and explosions, screams echoing through streets that had once felt safe.

crime in new york never sleeps and neither does he. 

the newspapers had started calling him their friendly neighbourhood spider-man years ago and they still do. children love him, adults trust him and people wave whenever they catch a glimpse of red and blue swinging overhead, sometimes they even applaud when he lands nearby after stopping another crime.

jisung never stays long enough to hear all of it. he isn’t comfortable with praise, he is only trying to help, trying to make sure people make it home, trying to give someone the chance he’d failed to give others, because sometimes, helping isn’t enough.

sometimes the city demands more than one masked hero can possibly give. there are threats that can’t be solved by webbing someone’s hands together or stopping a getaway car.

there are monsters out there, people with abilities that defy explanation, machines built to destroy entire cities, men who believe that power gives them permission to decide who deserves to live.

and five years ago, new york had almost disappeared beneath one of those threats. even now, jisung can’t think about it for too long, his chest tightens before the memories fully form.

the battle had lasted hours but to him, it had felt like days. 

smoke had swallowed the sky until afternoon looked like midnight. buildings collapsed one after another, glass rained from skyscrapers, sirens never stopped, the streets became battlefields and people screamed and ran and some of them even prayed. 

he hadn’t been alone and for once, the weight of saving the city hadn’t rested solely on his shoulders. there had been others with him, people gifted with abilities just as impossible as his own - some of them could fly, some controlled things no human should ever be able to control, some fought with technology decades ahead of its time, and others possessed strength that rivaled his.

together, they had stood against something far bigger than any one of them and together, they had won. the city still stood and the threat had been stopped, the world kept turning and the headlines called them heroes.

however, the victory came with a price no newspaper could ever fully capture. entire blocks had been reduced to rubble, thousands of families had lost their homes and hundreds had lost people they loved.

jisung spent hours afterwards helping search through debris, refusing to take off the suit because somehow wearing it made facing the devastation a little easier, but that was until he found her.

his aunt may.

the woman who had raised him after life had already taken too much from him.

the woman who had patched scraped knees when he was a kid, stayed awake helping him study before exams, celebrated every tiny accomplishment like it was the greatest achievement in history, cooked his favourite meal for his birthday every year.

the woman who had loved him with every piece of her heart. 

the woman who always told him to come home safe, every single time, was the one that didn’t come home safe, not that day.

there had been no miracle, no last-minute rescue, no impossible save, no amount of strength or superpower had been enough to pull back time.

jisung still remembers kneeling beside her, he remembers the dust covering her face, he remembers crying and begging and promising impossible things to someone who could no longer hear him.

five years later, he still wakes up some nights hearing his own voice from that day. he still reaches for a phone that will never receive another call from her. he still catches himself buying her favourite tea before he remembers there is no one waiting to drink it.

but aunt may isn’t the only person he’d failed to keep close to him that day. she isn’t the only name that haunts quiet nights on the rooftop. he had lost-

ding.

jisung blinks when he hears his phone, the weight of old memories slowly dissolving as the present pulls him back, back to now, back to responsibility. he grabs his phone and the screen lights up with the notification from the app he has to keep track of the crimes in the city.

it’s just a dark screen covered with a live map of new york, constantly updating with alerts pulled from police scanners, emergency dispatches, traffic cameras, public reports and a handful of algorithms jisung had spent a lot of time writing himself. it’s not perfect but it’s fast.

there’s a red marker blinking insistently is western queens.

possible armed robbery in progress.

national bank.

multiple suspects reported.

hostages possible.

jisung’s eyes scan the details in seconds then he locks his phone and muscle memory takes over. he takes his clothes off and then puts on the suit. red and blue, a little faded around the gloves. he slips into it, fastening the web shooters around his wrists before flexing each hand to make sure they work.

he then picks up the mask and stares at the white lenses. he can see himself in them, messy dark hair and his gentle eyes. he pulls the mask over his head and then the world narrows behind the lenses.

han jisung disappears and spider-man straightens his shoulders. 

outside, a siren wails in the distance and he steps towards the window and pushes it even more open.

a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, “i guess i’ll save the existential crisis for later”

with one fluid motion, he climbs onto the fire escape, fires a web into the skyline and then disappears between the buildings, swinging towards yet another day where someone needs their friendly neighbourhood spider-man.

“one day”, inspector lee says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the line of robbers cocooned in thick white webs, “i’d love to arrive at a crime scene before you”

jisung, or rather, spider-man stands upside down from a streetlight a few feet away, his arms folded over his chest as if he’s giving the situation serious thought.

“mmhm”, he hums as inspector lee waits, “have you tried driving faster?”

a nearby officer snorts and inspector lee shoots him a look. the officer immediately coughs into his fist and pretends to be deeply interested in taking photographs of the crime scene.

“you know”, inspector lee says, turning back to the masked hero, “that wasn’t funny”

“it wasn’t?”

“no”

“it was a little funny”

inspector lee sighs, he is the sigh of a man who has had this exact conversation far too many times, “get down”

jisung flips effortlessly from the streetlight, landing lightly on the ground without making a sound. the scene around them is already under control - police officers move in and out of the bank, escorting frightened employees outside while paramedics check them over for injuries. curious onlookers gather behind the barricades with their phones held high, eager to catch another glimpse of new york’s most recognisable masked hero.

six robbers remain firmly attached to the traffic light at the corner of the street and well, jisung perhaps has gotten a little creative with how he leaves criminals - one hangs upside down, another is stuck sideways, a third somehow had both shoes webbed together, but none of them are going anywhere.

inspector lee glances towards the traffic light before looking back at him, “was all of this really necessary?”

“they can still breathe”, jisung says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“they’re hanging from a traffic light”

“no, they’re securely hanging from a traffic light”

inspector lee closes his eyes and then sighs, “i have paperwork because of you”

“you have paperwork because of them”, jisung says, pointing towards the robbers, “i just… left them there for you”

the same officer from before laughs again, loud enough that inspector lee hears him again.

“officer yang”

“sorry, sir”

inspector lee turns around again, shaking his head, “i spent years studying criminal investigation. i graduated at the top of my class. i climbed through the ranks and i became head inspector”

“i know. congratulations, by the way”

“and every single week”, inspector lee continues, ignoring what jisung said, “i arrive somewhere to find criminals wrapped like oversized dumplings”

“they’re burritos”

inspector lee gestures towards the traffic light, “does that look like a burrito to you?”

jisung tilts his head, “a little”

inspector lee stares at him and jisung stares back, none of them saying anything until inspector lee shakes his head again and exhales.

“i hate talking to you”

“no, you don’t”

a reluctant smile threatens the corner of inspector lee’s mouth before he forces it away, “no, i don’t”

their conversations always end up like this. the first few months after spider-man appeared in new york, things had been difficult, the police had considered him a threat, something unpredictable, and they didn’t particularly trust him. over the years, however, it’s become something close to a partnership. spider-man doesn’t interfere too much with investigations and the police don’t waste resources trying to arrest the man who keeps saving lives.

if a situation grows too dangerous before officers arrive, spider-man handles it.

if spider-man uncovers evidence connected to larger criminal organisations, it somehow finds its way onto inspector’s lee desk.

“so”, inspector lee says, pulling a small notebook from his pocket, “anything i should know?”

jisung nods towards the bank, “eight hostages”

“already confirmed”

“one security guard broke his shoulder trying to stop them”, jisung says and inspector writes it down, “ambulance has him. the guy with the tattoo”, he says as he points towards one of the robbers hanging from the traffic light, “is the leader. he’s carrying a burner phone in his left jacket pocket. they keep mentioning someone called dragon, might be worth looking into”

inspector lee writes everything and then pauses, “anything else?”

“they came in through the underground parking garage”

“good”

“they also complain a lot”

“i imagine getting webbed to a traffic light does that”, inspector lee says as he laughs before snapping his notebook shut, “well, i suppose this is the part where you vanish before i can officially thank you”

“you say thank you every time”, jisung says as he turns towards him.

“i know”, inspector lee says as he steps closer, lowering his voice just enough so only spider-man can hear him, “you all right?”

it’s a simple question, one that he has been asking him lately, every time something happened. he doesn’t ask because the robberies are particularly dangerous, he asks him because he has known spider-man long enough to notice the days when his movements are a little slower, when his jokes don’t come as easily or when something behind those white lenses seems heavier.

jisung answers with the same response he always gives him, “i’m okay”

inspector lee studies him for a second and he knows that’s probably not the truth but still, he nods his head, “try to stay out of trouble and rest a bit, okay?”

jisung lets out a laugh, “you know that’s impossible, right?”

“i know”

a web shoots upwards with a familiar sound, attaching itself somewhere high above the buildings and jisung gives inspector lee a casual salute before he leaves.

“officer yang is laughing again”

“i’ll put it in his performance review”, inspector lee says.

“harsh”

before inspector lee can answer, jisung pushes off the pavement, the web goes taut and then his body lifts into the air, soaring above flashing police lights and the gathering crowd. a chorus of excited cheers follows him down the street, children point excitedly towards the sky and people scream for him. within seconds, the red and blue figure disappears between the buildings, becoming nothing more than a blur and only when he is several blocks away does he finally slow.

he lands on the rooftop of an old laundromat tucked between two apartment buildings, hidden from the busy streets below. no one ever follows him there, that’s why he keeps some clothes hidden there for situations like this. he slips through the rooftop access door, changes quickly into clean clothes and then folds the suit into the bag that never leaves his side.

by the time he steps back onto the street, jisung is just another boy walking through queens. his hair is messy from pulling off the mask, the bag hangs from one shoulder and his hands are tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he blends into the stream of people but no one gives him a second glance.

when he reaches his building, the adrenaline has long since begun to fade and the familiar ache in his body returns. his wrists feel sore from firing web after web and he’s sure there’s a bruise forming somewhere beneath the sleeve of his hoodie where one of the robbers had clipped him with the butt of a rifle.

it’s nothing serious, nothing he’s not used to by now. 

the city is calmer now, people walk home with their grocery bags and restaurants spill warm light onto the sidewalks. somewhere down the block, someone plays music through an open apartment window, the melody drifting between the buildings before disappearing into the traffic.

he pushes open the front door of the building, the familiar creak of old hinges greeting him.

“jisung!”

he barely takes two steps before he hears his name. mrs. kim is walking towards him, with her bag hanging from her arm and her glasses perched near the end of her nose.

“there you are”, she says the moment she gets closer to him.

jisung smiles at her, “hi, mrs. kim”

she narrows her eyes as she looks at him properly, “you look tired”

he laughs softly, “i always look tired”

“you look extra tired”

“well… i’ve had a long day”

she hums and then pats his arm as she walks him towards the lift, “did you eat today?”

“... kind of”

“kind of?”, she sighs so loudly that it echoes through the lobby, “you children are impossible”

jisung laughs again, “i’m not a child, mrs. kim”

“you sure behave like one”

jisung chuckles quietly, shaking his head as he waits for the lift, “i’ll eat a proper dinner today”

“you promise?” “i promise”, he says as he nods his head.

the lift arrives then, the doors sliding open just slowly enough to remind everyone in the building that replacing it would probably be a good idea.

mrs. kim doesn’t step inside, “i’m going to a restaurant with my sister”

jisung nods his head when he steps in, “tell her i said hi”

“i will”

he presses the button for the top floor and just as the doors begin closing, mrs. kim suddenly snaps her fingers.

“oh! jisung!”

jisung reaches out, stopping the doors from shutting completely, “what?”

“you have new neighbours”

he blinks, “i do?”

“yes, the apartment across from yours”

he glances towards the ceiling instinctively, as though he might somehow see through it to his hallway.

“i thought nobody wanted that apartment”

“well, someone has rented it now”

“huh”

mrs. kim smiles at him, “they moved in today. there’s two of them and i think they might be around your age”

jisung gives a small nod again, “that’s nice”

mrs. kim tries again, “they seem lovely”

“glad to hear”, he says as mrs. kim watches him expectantly and he watches her back, “... what?”

she points an accusing finger at him, “you should introduce yourself”

“i…”, he says, scratching the back of his neck… “sure”

“you will”

“i just said i will”

mrs. kim shakes her head, “no, you just said “sure””

“isn’t that the same thing?”

“no”

jisung laughs, “okay, fine. i’ll introduce myself, happy?”

“very happy”

the lift doors try to close again and jisung finally lets them, “have fun with your sister”

“eat something!”

“i will”

“and sleep!”

“i’ll try”

the doors slide shut before she can say anything else. he hears her mutter, something like “kids these days”, from the other side, making him smile despite himself.

the lift begins its slow climb and his smile fades naturally. his thoughts drift back to the robbery, to what he had heard the robbers saying and the burner phone. he mentally retraces every second, he’s almost sure he didn’t miss anything, but you never know.

the lift jolts slightly as it reaches his floor and the doors open. jisung steps into the quiet hallway, only two apartments occupying the floor, his and the one directly opposite.

mrs. kim wasn’t exaggerating, someone has definitely moved in. there are cardboard boxes in the hallway, stacked against the wall with labels scribbled across them in thick black marker.

kitchen

books

bedroom

bathroom

FRAGILE!

a rolled-up rug leans against the opposite apartment’s doorway, which stands wide open. from inside comes the muffled sound of furniture scraping across hardwood floors. he can hear someone laughing and then another voice responding, too quiet for him to make out. he glances towards the open apartment for only a second, long enough to notice more boxes scattered inside, but then, he looks away.

he’ll meet them eventually.

probably.

maybe.

he shifts the bag on his shoulder and fishes his keys from his hoodie pocket. the metal jingles softly and the key slides into the lock. he twists it and just as his fingers curl around the doorknob, he hears a voice that comes from behind him, warm and curious.

“hello?”

a/n: okay so first of all, i refuse to name spider-man’s aunt other name that isn’t may, i’m sorry but that is simply her name and i can’t change it!! also… this series has officially made me break my own rule of not posting a series until i’ve either finished writing it or have most of it written, but i’m just way too excited about this one and i can’t keep it to myself anymore. the downside is that, because i don’t have a lot of it written, updates are gonna be a little slow (especially right now), so i’m sorry for making you wait between chapters, i promise i’m working on it. i hope you love this story as much as i already do. thank you so much for reading and sticking with me 🩷

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

if you want me to add you to the taglist of this series, please comment this post!

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

permanent taglist: @v3n7s @emmiesoverthemoon @kloversung @inniemeenymineymoe @hathoryan6868 @cherrycheolie @sheerfreesia007 @yessirfelix @hanjinology @luvvvivi @fantasy-addict354 @applesrpeak @lavunyan @channiesswift @skinnyjeans-tanktops @wonderlandforthelonley-blog @bellacj1 @karmaminho @hyunjinxxs @xallyouneedislovexx @niki-the-american @skzbyemmy @kpopishgirlie @daisylove3 @bunbunbl0gs @miniseungkimcami @geni-627 @bsk-brn @pvppymin @viisstrayy @ann-gell @mitsuri1221 @lost-in-the-stars03 @channlust @staygenesblog @persassyismysecrettwin @tsunderelino @minastronaut @minhocinema @staytinycassichu @nyaaa-cat @bangchansnipples @pinknymphkisses @wompwompgang @inlovewithstraykids @sturnsxbitvh @enchantedlov3r2 @certainstarfishmiracle @lixxstay

[hanfocus]

HAN — THIS & THAT TEASER IMAGES

[starlostjisung]

hi my loves 🩷

i know i posted a poll a while ago asking which fic from my drafts you wanted to read first and after you all voted, i went back and reread the winning one (like i always do before i post a fic) but while i was reading it, something just didn't sit right with me. i rewrote some parts but even after that i'm still not happy with it, and one thing i will never do is post a fic that i'm not happy with or that i don't genuinely like

so for now i'm going to leave that one (and the other options from the poll) in my drafts, and i'll probably come back to them when i can look at them with fresh eyes. instead, i'm going to keep writing other fics i'm currently working on because i'm really happy and excited about those. i'd rather post those than force myself to post something just because it won a poll (that i posted, i know, i'm sorry 😭)

this is why i've been silent these past few weeks, and i'll probably update a bit slower for a little while longer until i have more of these stories written and ready to post. i'm really sorry for making you all wait, thank you for being so patient, and i promise i'm still writing. i'd rather give you stories that i truly love than rush out something i'm not happy with 🩷

[starlostjisung]

wait i got the timing wrong and i thought we were getting the skz replay on saturday BUT we’re actually getting it in less than 24 hours???? LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO

[starlostjisung]

A SPIDERHAN FIC? GIVE IT TO ME I NEED IT

-🎹

i did start one months ago!! but i never got around to finishing it, i might need to get back to that one now

[starlostjisung]

i just saw the new spider-man film and this is all i can think about

[seungminogie]

[starlostjisung]

watched the live - here u go andy 😭🫶🏻

😭😭😭😭 this is me with all of them

[starlostjisung]

my oreo i’ve missed you so much 😭

[starlostjisung]

ANDYYYYYYY DID YOU SEE PICS FROM DAY ONE?!?! CHOKEHOLD I TELL YOU

YES!!!!!!!

I LOVED IT I LOVED EVERYTHING THE SETLIST THE STAGE THEM EVERYTHING 😭