𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

sparkle on 🕺✨

Melioraskz masterlist

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹

Index : (🩶) suggestive, (🖤) smut, (🩷) fluff, (❤️) angst, (💛) funny

Stray Kids

Ot8 :

Asking them to pick you up at your ex place (text) (🩶)(💛)

Birthday girl (what they got you for your birthday) (reaction) (🩷)(🩶)

Lee Know :

Lee Minho, the guy who… (headcanons) (🩶🩷💛)

Changbin :

Coming soon…

Hyunjin :

Coming soon…

Han :

Rather be your whore than a nobleman’s wife (one shot, pirate au) (🩶) (🖤)

Felix :

Coming soon…

Seungmin :

Coming soon…

I.N :

Texting Jeongin about going back to your toxic relationship (text) (🩶)(❤️)

Kento Yamazaki

My last night with you (one shot, Shin from Kingdom) (🩶)

Lee Minho, the guy who…

A/N : Wrote this in the middle of the night LOL !! Also my first written thing of 2025, it’s short af but enjoy !!! It’s like a headcanon thing idk

Warnings : mentions of sex, markings, Minho being a little jealous ig. Nothing crazy LOL!!

Minho x reader !

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Lee Minho, the guy who remembered your order at the local coffee shop in detail, if you hated coffee ? Then he’d order you something else like tea or matcha, point is he knew exactly what you liked and would always get you one if he was grabbing one for himself and knew he would be meeting you as well, sometimes if he knew you needed cheering up he’d come with one anyways despite not getting myself anything <3

Lee Minho, the guy who even before he knew that he had a crush on you would feel his ears burn up when your hands accidentally touched while you were handing him something, even if it was just for a second he’d think about it for an hour afterwards…

Lee Minho, the guy who who stared at you for a solid minute when you finally told him how you felt about him. Under that minute you had felt all your anxiety about being rejected build up to the point where you had to snap your fingers right in front of him to make him snap out of it. When you said it was fine if he didn’t like you the way you liked him he quickly shook his head in panic and waved his hands in front of you to signal a strong no. “No no no I like you! I like you too!”

Lee Minho, the guy who even a year into the relationship looked at you with such loving and genuine appreciation in his eyes. His lips curled into a crooked smile. You’d be doing your laundry in front of him and he’d be staring at you smiling like a goof with one elbow against the table with his hand steadying his tilted head.

Lee Minho, the guy who will act like he definitely doesn’t wanna help and that you’re so annoying for asking but secretly love doing anything and loves the feeling of being needed, even if it’s for something as small as reach the top shelf or open a glass jaw. (he is such a Tsundere…)

Lee Minho, the guy who definitely is rough in bed, you will wake up bruised up the morning after and he will have the biggest smug on his face as he looks at you trying to cover it up in the mirror, resting his shoulder against the doorframe as you swear at him for being too reckless.

Lee Minho, the guy who when you do get upset at him for marking you up will say something like “well you didn’t complain yesterday” and just laugh at you.

Lee Minho, the guy who definitely find it super fucking sexy seeing you marked up by him, however he will eventually feel bad as he does not wanna cause any trouble for you at work so he’ll try to help you cover it up to the best of his abilities <3.

Lee Minho, the guy who will be jealous over your boss, especially when he one day goes over to your work to give you your phone that you forgot at home on his way to JYPE. He casually walks in with cap & mask on hiding his identity and sees your boss trying to put his hand on your shoulder, on top of your clearly uncomfortable expression he just feels a rush of jealousy so he will straight up walk up to you, introduce himself as your boyfriend like. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir. I’m Lee Minho, her partner”.

Lee Minho, the guy who after years of being with you, when his kpop career has calmed down a bit and he has finished his military service, will propose to you. He did definitely ask his members, most likely Jisung, for help on rings, making sure it’s the perfect ring that’s your style. He takes everything into consideration, what style you usually get drawn towards, if you’re out with him at a mall and walk past a jewellery shop he will see if your eyes linger just a little longer at a certain design as well. He wants everything to be perfect.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★🛸

han as your (annoying) neighbor !!

a/n: got the idea for this when my bitchass upstairs neighbor woke me up this morning because he was jorkin it LOUD ASF!!! i hope his dick falls off. 😒

a/n pt.2: consider this an apology to all the hanji lovers that i made suffer with my smau 😅

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

Mint (18+)

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp

♡ Word Count: 2.7k

♡ Summary: It's the little things your boyfriend says and does that fills you with love for him; and you'll take any opportunity, no matter how small and mundane, to shower him with the love he deserves.

♡ Smut Warnings: light d/s dynamics (switch!bin and reader), vaguely plus size reader (because i am nothing if not self indulgent), light nipple play, oral (m rec), some begging from bin because i literally cannot stop myself from writing it lmfao

♡ Notes: this was supposed to just be a binnie drabble because it's been too long since i last wrote for him and i miss him, but i got a lil carried away as usual :') this is valentine's day fic in spirit only, there's really nothing thematically that makes it suit vday lol i truly just wanted to write something fluffy for bin even if it was small and plotless <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

It starts with a giggle; the bashful kind Changbin always fails to suppress when you start kissing him stupid. They’re simple, repeated little pecks, and you can feel him trying not to smile too hard, lest you end up kissing his teeth instead of his lips.

His lips are as sticky as they are plump and soft, the result of a combination of indulging in strawberries & cream hard candies, and his healing mint chapstick. The taste is pleasant, and your own lips tingle from the healing mint transferring to you, as well as growing sufficiently sticky from having a candy of your own before kissing him.

He doesn't know what brought the kiss attack on, but there's nothing he loves more than being doted on and feeling your affection, so he happily (and greedily) takes all the kisses you offer him.

Still, Changbin's curious– so when there's a small lapse in the kisses due to your need to take a breath, he asks; "Why are you attacking me, baby?"

The question is spoken with evident joy, the hints of his previous giggles still lingering in his voice. And there's no "reason" per se– all he'd done was sit there on the couch with you, in his cute cable-knit sweater with his tamed (but still ever so fluffy) hair and wire-frame glasses, eating candy.

It wasn't so much a particular action he took, or a special instance out of the norm that caused you to bombard him with love. There was no grand gesture of affection, no pre-planned romantic intent, no shameless display of affection. Changbin loves to do those things, certainly, but this wasn't that kind of moment.

You were simply in your shared apartment, cuddling under your couch's designated throw blanket as you watched a movie together post-dinner, snow falling peacefully on the cityscape outside your windows. When you were shopping for ingredients to make dinner tonight, he couldn't resist grabbing a bag of candy when he noticed it on sale– because who doesn't love a treat when it's discounted?

And it was all made better by knowing they were a favorite of yours too– so when he tore open the bag, full to the brim of small, individually wrapped candies, he took one for himself before eagerly tilting the bag in your direction to take one. Changbin watched you take it with a sweet smile, turning back to the tv before unwrapping another candy to pop into his mouth; and the simple domesticity of his affection was reason enough.

He turned to you when you called his name, a question lingering on his lips as he felt you inch closer; did you want another candy? Did he accidentally leave the bag too far out of your reach? But within seconds, you were surprising him with a kiss.

It took him off guard, you could easily tell by the squeak he let out, but the corners of his mouth curling into a smile before he returned the kiss told you he was more than happy with it.

"Because I love you," you answer his question earnestly; it was all you thought as you pulled yourself closer to him, the only words lingering in your mind as you hastily pressed your lips to his.

A tiny blush crawls over Changbin's features as he smiles, as full and radiant as it ever is when you dote on him. His eyes squint beneath his glasses, his adorably round nose scrunching, and you can't help but smile too; his joy is infectious, after all.

And perhaps in some ways it's silly, but it's always the small actions he takes that remind you of how in love you are with him. It's always moments like now, when you're relaxing together, at peace and comfortable in his presence in a way you are with no other, that your heart swells with love for your boyfriend the most.

Slow moments, where you can really appreciate the man beside you, when the full weight of your affection for him can settle over you like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Moments where any problem you have melts away, fading to the background because Changbin is with you, and that's all you need to be okay. 

And for Changbin, it doesn’t matter if it’s the 1st, 100th, or 1000th time you’re kissing him– it always sparks something in him. He isn’t greedy about many things, but when it comes to you– that’s a different story entirely; he’ll hold you tight and endlessly drink in all you're willing to give him. 

Your lips taste similar to his– a more muted, subtle version of strawberries, cream, and mint; he indulges in it, his hands finding their way to you and leaving the bag of candies forgotten to the side. He hums pleasantly when you crawl your way onto his lap, obediently parting his lips when he feels your tongue slide against them.

It doesn’t take long for him to start chubbing up beneath his cream-colored pants– and how could he not? You’re in his lap, kissing him deep and slow, with your fingers in his hair. They glide easily through his soft, straightened hair, and while you can’t help but miss his natural curls, you do appreciate your fingers not tangling in them and pulling. 

Changbin would like it, you know– he’s strong enough to manhandle you without breaking a sweat, can flip you and hold you into any position and make you take it with ease; but in the same breath, he’s pliable, ready and eager to be molded into whatever you need him to be. He loves his body, and his strength, and the squeals he can draw out of you by using it– but what he loves even more is being good to you. 

But this moment isn’t about that– you aren’t looking to take control, nor to make your lover meek and pliant; it’s about showing him the depth of your love for him in the only way you can when words fail you. What else can you do when saying “I love you” doesn’t feel like enough? When the heat that’s building in your chest will burst if you don’t kiss him and kiss him and kiss him?

He isn’t hard enough for his erection to quite be “obvious” in his loose pants yet, but you’ve been with Changbin long enough to see when he’s getting worked up. His breaths come out harsher, and the pink tint to his cheeks spreading to his ears paired with the quickened beating of his heart you can feel just beneath your fingertips tell you all you need to know.

He has a dazed, lovesick look in his eyes when you pull away from him, paired with a goofy, beaming smile. “I’m so lucky,” he breathes as he hugs you, the squeeze so tight it almost feels like it could crush you– but Changbin knows the limit. “I’m crazy about you– you know that right? I love you so much.” 

You’re effectively trapped in his arms, but that’s no problem for you– you return his hug, giggling as he returns your affections. Your soft laugh delights him, and he shows it by peppering your cheeks in chaste kisses before moving on to your neck. 

“Bin, that tickles,” you whine between your laughter, his hands squeezing you as you squirm in his grasp. He laughs too, lifting his head to meet your eyes with the downturned smirk that tells you he’s amused.

He thinks to tease you; playfully peck you over and over whilst saying you attacked him first, so it’s only fair– but it melts away when you tenderly reach to his face, cupping it in your hands. Your thumbs resting on his full cheeks, you kiss him again, soft and sweet. It effectively turns him to putty, a content sound rising from his throat as his squeeze on you loosens. 

You take the opportunity to slip a hand into his sweater, caressing his plush stomach for just a moment before bringing it to his chest. You love the way he feels– bulking muscles under soft skin, pecs strong and well-defined but so easy to squeeze in your palms. He shivers under your diligent touch, your fingers always so soft and motions so purposeful.

He keens when you tweak his nipple just the way you know he likes, and he has to make a conscious effort to stop himself from unconsciously bucking his hips up. You can feel him, fully hard beneath you now and pressing into the fat of your ass.

On another day, you might tease him about it; coo over how sensitive he is, watch him squirm as his face burns deep red. But the way Changbin looks at you, so reverent and adoring with a haze of lust, never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.

It's obvious with just a look that he's becoming needy; he’s expectant, wordlessly pleading, skin tingling with anticipation for what you’ll do next– and you’ve decided from the very start that you’ll give him anything he wants. 

“Ah–” his brain lags when you ask what he wants, if there's anything at all he'd like you to do, the air suddenly feeling heavy and thick around him. And it’s not because he’s shy, necessarily– it’s just that the loving gaze you hold for him while waiting for him to answer is making his mind feel fuzzy.

He swallows, and in the end his words are less than eloquent, but they're enough. “Your mouth– please?”

You smile at him sweetly, a shudder traveling the length of his spine when you dip your hand between your bodies to palm his cock over his pants. He sucks in a breath, shivering as you make quick work of freeing his erection from the fabric. The inside of his underwear is sticky-wet, the result of pre-cum steadily leaking from his sensitive tip.

His fists are clenched, breaths labored as he watches and waits for you to deliver on his request. You shift carefully off his lap, letting the blanket covering you both fall to the floor– along with the plastic bag of strawberries & cream candies that you entirely forgot were still there next to you. 

The clatter of them falling to the hardwood almost makes you jump, and you watch as some of the candies roll out of the bag, scattering in all directions. You stare for a moment, blink before you turn to Changbin and laugh. “I forgot,” is all you say, and he giggles with you, leaning over the couch to assess the damage. 

“We can clean it later,” he assures, grabbing your hand so you focus on him instead of on the mess. If there’s one saving grace, it’s that the candies are all individually wrapped– and you’re certain that getting your boyfriend's dick in your mouth is of much higher priority than picking up some spilled, but otherwise perfectly fine, candy. 

“Wait,” Changbin says after you sink to your knees, grabbing a cushion to place under them, “don’t want you to get hurt.” You smile and thank him warmly, getting yourself comfortable on the cushion– and he’s quick to reach to the floor where the blanket fell, wrapping it around your shoulders snuggly. 

“Changbin,” you giggle as he secures the blanket around you.

“What? I don’t want you to get cold either,” he says, and it’s so endearing you can think of nothing else to do but kiss him, just as before.

“What about you?” you ask, and he simply smiles while assuring you he’ll be perfectly fine. And you’re sure it’s true enough; Changbin tends to run hot, after all. Still, you get as much of his legs in the blanket as you can as you inch closer and settle in between his muscular thighs. 

You take his cock into your hand once more, the length short but impossibly thick in your comparably small fingers. The sight of it, leaking and throbbing as it silently pleads for stimulation, is always mouth-watering to you, and the change in your eyes is enough to make him squirm in his seat. 

You take your time planting slow, lingering kisses to his steadily leaking tip, coat your lips in his arousal and trail it down his length before slowly licking back up. You repeat– enough times to have him biting his lip and tensing his thighs, desperate pleas for something more just a breath away from being uttered. 

It’s a little cruel to tease him this way considering you said you’d give him anything he wants, but how could you resist? Still, a promise is a promise; so just before you think the thread keeping his restraint together is about to snap, and he’s ready to string together a babble of begs and pleads, you engulf his tip in your mouth. 

The relief is instant– a loud, shuddering whine leaving his lips as you lower your head, sliding the entirety of his length into your mouth. It’s always a stretch, even just for your mouth, but you’ve grown used to ignoring the ache in your jaw. He’s heavy on your tongue, but you’ve always liked that– and the moans you’re met with as you bob your head make any tenderness you’ll feel later entirely worth it. 

You can feel him tremble, the sound of your saliva pooling and dripping down his cock enough to make his head spin. Needing something to hold and ground himself, he desperately searches for one of your hands; you offer one to him quickly, let him squeeze as much as he needs once your fingers are intertwined. 

Your other hand caresses and squeezes over the meat of Changbin’s inner thigh, and his head falls back against the couch cushion, eyes closing as he releases another high pitched whine. Suddenly he feels much too hot, sweat threatening to drip from where it builds on his brow. You swirl your tongue around his cock to the best of your ability as you take it to the base, and it nearly makes him sob.

“S-So close, please–” he manages to choke out through a whimper, shivering when you hum and quicken your efforts. It’s utterly dizzying– how good your mouth feels, the salacious sounds that pour from it, the heady cry of his desperate, pleasured voice; overwhelming and baffling, almost, how a man as big and strong as him can be a weak puddle in your hands.

“Gonna cum– ‘m cumming, c-cumming for you,” he manages to stutter out just moments before his thighs and stomach clench and his eyes roll back. His back arches off the cushion as he writhes, his cum spilling down your throat, thick and pleasantly salty. The overstimulation as you continue to lick over his now softening length makes him gasp and squirm until you inevitably release his cock from your mouth with a pop, satisfied with your efforts cleaning him up.

Changbin is utterly breathless, but still quick to help you back to the couch when you move to rise; your knees ache from being stuck in the same position for so long, but it’s certainly not as bad as it would’ve been if he hadn’t offered you the cushion to rest them on. He smiles at you as you wipe the accumulated sweat from his brow, a sweet thing full of awe and adoration. 

“I love you,” he reminds you with a sappy, downturned smile and you giggle before offering him another kiss. “And,” he quickly adds, effortlessly scooping you up into his arms now that his strength has returned and his body no longer feels like jello, “we’re not done yet.” 

“Binnie!” you can’t help but squeal, clinging to him tightly as he rises from the couch with you in his arms, as if you're light as a feather. He kicks the bag of fallen candy as he walks, and you giggle as you hear more pieces rattle and roll around on the floor and out of his path; you almost want to playfully scold him for worsening the mess. 

“We can clean it later,” he repeats, as he enters your shared bedroom. He carefully lays you down on the bed, crawls over you and kisses you with all the passion and ardor he can muster. His hand traveling slowly, purposefully down your body, until it finds its home between your thighs.

There’s a whispered promise then; that you’re not leaving the bed until he makes you cum again and again.

Favorite Places to Have Sex

MDNI, 18+ content.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when they wanna venture outside your bed

notes: this ended up longer than originally planned ngl. i find myself falling deeper and deeper into the void that is kim seungmin. pray for me ✊😔

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHAN

you already know what it is. chris practically lives at the studio, so why not fuck where he's most comfortable?

it always starts innocent enough. he's working late, you've invited yourself to the couch in the back, just scrolling through your phone. he calls you over to show you something he's working on and there just happens to only be one chair--the one he's currently settled on.

of course, he's not just going to let you stand, he's too much of a gentleman for that! he's kind enough to lend you his lap.

except now he can't focus. he's just trying to mix a track, but the way you shift on his lap whenever you point something out on the screen...yeah.

his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your thighs, voice dropping lower as he murmurs, "You’re distracting me, baby."

before you know it, his hands are gripping your hips, and you’re bouncing on his cock in the dim glow of his monitors, his low groans mixing with the bass from his unfinished song. The door is locked, but someone could still knock at any second—maybe a member, maybe a staff member and it's such a fucking vice, because on one hand, he doesn't give a shit. he wants them to hear, to know how good he makes you feel. it's the biggest thing that feeds his ego.

on the other hand, those sounds you make, the whimpers, the mewls, the lewd squelch your cunt makes when he's already made you cum twice but still can't stop rutting into you...yeah those are only for his ears.

he's pretty open to using his own moans though. have you listened closely to the backtrack of railway?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ LEE KNOW

minho is obsessed with eye contact, so it’s no surprise that his favorite place is in front of a mirror. he wants you to see everything—the way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure, the way he controls every reaction you have.

you're insecure about your body? the sounds you make? yeah, no. every fucking thing about you is his biggest turn on, and he's just not okay with you not knowing that.

he’ll start slow, teasing you with featherlight touches, whispering in your ear, "look at yourself, baby. look how pretty you are for me." his hands will guide your movements, forcing you to watch the way he ruins you. and just when you think he’s going to let you close your eyes, he grips your jaw, turning your head toward the reflection. "I said, watch."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHANGBIN

gym. yeah i said it, i don't care how basic it is.

he will sweetly ask you to come work out with him, super super early in the morning or super late at night, when nobody's around. he'll tell you it's because he gets too shy to take off his shirt when other people are around but gets too hot and uncomfortable with it on.

you fall for it every time. sweet thing.

binnie loves seeing you all sweaty and out of breath. there’s something about watching you work out that drives changbin crazy—maybe it’s the way your body moves, the little whimpers when you push yourself too hard, the way you stretch in all the right ways.

one second, he’s spotting for you, the next, he’s pinning you against the weight bench, gripping your thighs, telling you to let him do all the work now. "you wanna stretch a little more, baby?"

next thing you know, he’s pinning you against the mirror, your fingers leaving smudged prints on the glass as he fucks into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight. he groans against your ear, voice thick with need,

"you've worked so hard today, baby," he'll grunt into your ear. "let me take care of you now."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HYUNJIN

hyunjin’s art studio is his sanctuary, the place where he’s most creative, where he loses himself in his work for hours at a time.

it always starts innocently enough. it's your birthday, and he wants to paint a portrait of you in that cute little sun dress he gifted you. that short, skimpy little sun dress he gifted you. and he needs you on his lap. for the creative process. spefically with your dress up, panties pushed aside, and his cock nestled deeply inside of you.

also for the creative process.

"you gotta sit still for me, pretty." he murmurs, leaned back against the couch, his gaze focused on his canvas. "or else this will take longer."

it's horrendously delicious, the way he makes you warm his cock while he works, refusing to let you move. he doesn't even fucking react, a hundred precent focused on making you the best portrait.

when he's done though, and only if you've been good and didn't move, he'll set his supplies aside to dry and let you fuck yourself on him. let you use him any way you want it.

and if you haven't been good, the only thing you're getting off on is his thigh. if you're lucky. tough luck.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HAN

jisung has no patience. if he wants you, he wants you. which is why you end up fucking in the car so often—no waiting, no hesitations, just pure, impulsive desire.

it usually happens after late-night drives. the city lights blur past as he grips the wheel, one hand occasionally straying to your thigh, drumming against your skin. it's so fucking soft against his fingers, he's already hard. and you just had to wear that little skirt that gives him easy access.

"you're driving me crazy," he mutters, trying to keep his eyes on the road, shifting in his seat. he's only just got his fucking license, he could hardly drive with the music on yet, much less with you sitting there like that.

he’s aching for you.

so when he pulls into some dark, empty parking lot, hands clenched around the steering wheel like he’s trying to keep himself in check, you decide to put him out of his misery.

you lean over, fingers already working at his belt.

he whimpers. actually fucking whimpers.

his cock is already hard, leaking, twitching against the cool air, and when you wrap your fingers around him, he bucks into your hand with a choked gasp.

"f-fuck, baby, please—"

yeah...you're not going home any time soon.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ FELIX

felix is dangerously charming, and he knows exactly how to turn an innocent moment into something sinful. it usually starts with something as simple as baking together, fingers covered in flour, soft laughter filling the space.

but then, his hands start lingering—a light touch on your lower back, a casual squeeze of your thigh, his voice dropping an octave as he murmurs, "You're making a mess, baby."

the moment he sees you licking something off your finger, tilting your head like you’re teasing him? yep, you're fucked. not quite literally yet tho.

before you know it, he’s lifting you onto the counter, lips trailing down your neck as he spreads your thighs, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat building between you both. the half-mixed batter is forgotten, the kitchen filled with breathless moans instead, his hands spreading your thighs apart, eating you out like a man starved.

which he is. he's always fucking starved for you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SEUNGMIN

the library is the last place you’d expect seungmin to be this filthy.

It always starts so subtly. he's supposed to be helping you study for your finals, flipping through textbooks in the quietest corner of the library. but then his hand finds your thigh under the table, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles.

"focus," he says, when he look at him sharply, voice perfectly neutral.

like he isn’t the one distracting you.

you try. poor thing, you really do. but his touch is persistent, featherlight strokes just beneath the hem of your skirt, moving higher, higher—so painfully slow that it’s infuriating.

"seungmin," you whisper, an urgent warning.

He doesn’t even glance up from his book. "what?"

you shoot him a glare, shifting in your seat to escape his touch, but his grip tightens just slightly—a silent command. Stay still.

"you should really be paying attention," he murmurs. "or do you need some extra motivation?"

oh he'll tell you that if you make it through the chapter like this that he'll reward you, give you what you really want. he'll keep you on the edge, till you're finally right there, so close--

he pulls away completely, returning to his textbook like nothing happened.

"you should finish your work first," he says, flipping a page. "i’ll think about rewarding you later."

the audacity.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JEONGIN

his childhood bedroom.

you heard me.

the posters on the walls, the old books cluttering his desk, the twin-sized bed that barely fits both of you—it’s all so him. It should be innocent, just a short visit to his parents’ house, just a normal night.

or so you thought.

it starts with you lying next to him under the covers, whispering and giggling, trying not to wake anyone. he’s got one arm lazily draped over your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. but then his hand slips lower—too low for something so casual—and suddenly, that mischievous smirk is on his lips.

"you’re being quiet," he teases, voice barely above a whisper. "something wrong?"

um yeah, something’s wrong. his parents are asleep down the hall. the walls are thin.

that’s the thrill—how you stiffen when he presses against you, how you grip his wrist when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

"aw, baby, that's just too bad" he coos, smirking against your skin. "You’re gonna have to be quiet for me."

the bed creaks when he shifts, pressing his weight against you, and he pauses—just for a second—listening for any signs of movement outside the door. when all remains quiet, he grins, his hand slipping beneath your pajama shorts, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

"shh," he breathes, pressing a finger to your lips. "if you wake them up, you’ll have to explain how their sweet, innocent jeongin has you like this."

⍣ ೋ cw: vigin!felix. dry humping. hand job. blow job. overstimulation. mdni.

felix knows how to kiss you. he’s done it enough times—long, lazy sessions pressed up against you, hands wandering, lips slick and hungry. he knows how to tilt his head just right, how to nip at your bottom lip until you sigh against his mouth, how to suck your tongue into his own until you’re the one chasing him.

but this—this is new.

you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his, fingers curled in the hair at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. his hands rest on your waist, trembling just slightly, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin like he’s trying to ground himself.

he’s burning. every inch of him, inside and out, is consumed by a heat so unbearable it has him trembling beneath you, breathless and desperate, hips chasing yours with an urgency that’s bordering on pathetic. he knows it, too—knows how fucking needy he looks, how embarrassing it is that he’s already soaked through his sweats, how wrecked he sounds when his moans break, high and breathless.

but he can’t stop. he doesn’t want to.

you’ve barely even touched him, and he’s already falling apart. his cock is rock-hard, leaking so much that his sweats cling to him, soaked through in a mess of precum that’s only getting worse each time you drag your hips against him. the friction is unreal—too much and not enough all at once. the thin cotton of your panties is soaked, sticking to your cunt, making it easier to slide against him, slick and filthy and teasing.

he should be embarrassed. and he is—his cheeks are burning, his ears pink, his fingers gripping your hips so tight they might leave bruises. but the shame only makes it better. makes his cock twitch, makes his stomach clench, makes him whimper when you press down just right.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice wrecked, high-pitched and desperate. his thighs tense beneath you, shaking as he bucks up again, more frantic this time, grinding into you like he’s completely lost control. like he doesn’t care how messy he’s getting, how pathetic he must sound.

he’s so used to doing this alone—rutting into his hand, fucking into the mattress, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loud. but now, you’re on top of him, letting him do it for real, letting him soak through his clothes, letting him press his aching, throbbing cock against your cunt and use you like his fucking pillow.

the thought makes his head spin.

“i—” his voice catches, his fingers flexing on your waist, hips jerking up again. he’s trying to hold back, but he’s too far gone, too close, too sensitive. every time your pussy drags against him, it gets worse. every tiny movement sends another shockwave of pleasure through him, has another choked moan falling from his lips.

you press down harder, and his whole body jolts.

“shit—oh my god, i’m gonna—”

his head tips back against the pillow, mouth falling open as a broken sob rips from his throat. his hips stutter, his entire body shuddering as he cums hard, spilling into his sweats, soaking them even more, ruining himself completely. his cock throbs against you, twitching with every pulse of his release, sticky and hot and messy.

but even as he cums, even as his body trembles through it, he doesn’t stop moving. his hips keep rolling up into you, needy, shameless, fucking desperate for more, whining as the oversensitivity kicks in but still grinding against you like he can’t help himself.

he knows he should be mortified—knows he just came in his pants like the fucking virgin he is, knows how ruined and wrecked he looks. but the way you’re looking at him, the way your nails are digging into his skin, the way your own cunt is throbbing against him—

he’s gasping, body trembling beneath you, his chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. his whole body feels too hot, too sensitive, every nerve ending fried from orgasm, and yet—

he still wants more.

still needs more.

his cock twitches, still hard, still leaking despite the mess he’s already made, and you feel it—feel the way he shudders when you press your palm against the soaked fabric of his sweats, the way his hips jolt like he can’t help but chase the touch even though he’s so overstimulated it’s making his head spin.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice cracking, wrecked and breathless. his fingers dig into your thighs, gripping like he’s afraid you’ll pull away, like he needs you there, pressing down on him, making him feel everything.

you slide off him slowly, and he whines, blinking up at you in a daze—completely ruined, lips parted, cheeks flushed, body still trembling from the intensity of it all. his cock is throbbing beneath his ruined sweats, the sticky fabric clinging to him in a way that has him whimpering, overstimulated and desperate all at once.

and then, your fingers slip under the waistband of his sweats.

his breath hitches.

“w-wait—” his voice is small, uncertain, but he doesn’t stop you. he can’t. he lifts his hips instinctively, letting you peel the soaked fabric down, and the moment his cock is free—flushed, dripping, twitching—his entire body jolts.

the air feels too cold against his slick skin, too sharp, too much—but the second your fingers wrap around him, his brain short-circuits completely.

“ah—oh my god—” his head falls back against the pillow, his hips jerking up into your touch like he has no control over his own body anymore. his cock is so sensitive it hurts, but he still moans at the feeling of your fingers gliding along his length, slick with the mess he’s already made.

he’s never felt anything like this before. not like this. not with someone else. not with himself.

and then—then you shift, moving lower, your breath ghosting over the head of his cock, and his entire body locks up.

“b-baby—” his voice is strained, tight with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, because surely—surely you wouldn’t—

but then your tongue flicks over the tip, catching the sticky precum beading there, and his mind blanks.

a sob rips from his throat, high and broken, his thighs trembling as his hips buck up before he can stop himself. he’s never felt anything this hot, this wet, this fucking good, and it’s hitting him all at once, too much, too overwhelming, too fucking perfect.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice barely above a whimper, high and breathless. he’s never been this sensitive before, never felt this raw, this desperate—his cock still pulsing, twitching under the light drag of your tongue, overstimulated but still aching for more.

and you—god, you’re relentless.

you press your tongue flat against the swollen tip, licking up another slow, teasing stripe that has his back arching clean off the mattress. his hands leave the sheets, darting up like he means to stop you, but they hover just above your head, shaking, unsure. he can’t bring himself to push you away. doesn’t want to.

“too much,” he whines, but he doesn’t mean it, not really. his hips tell another story, rutting up into the heat of your mouth, his cock throbbing against your tongue, betraying just how badly he needs this. just how much he craves it, even through the haze of overstimulation.

you hum, lips curving against him, and the vibration shoots straight through him like lightning, leaving him gasping, wrecked and wide-eyed, staring down at you in stunned disbelief.

and then you sink down just a little further, take him just a little deeper, let your tongue flick just right—

and he’s gone.

and as he comes down, still shaking, still dazed, he watches as you slowly slide your panties down your legs.

his breath catches.

maybe he was wrong. maybe there is something better.

LEE KNOW ♡ SKZ TRAVEL LOG #1

minho x fem reader for @bellflowergarden | wc: 1.4k | warnings: big dick!minho in gray sweats, est. relationship, implied inexperienced/insecure reader, dryhumping, handjob. i clearly didn't know how to conclude this lolz. enjoy!!

Minho who loves your eyes on him, he always does. It feels different when it’s you. He wouldn’t mind giving you everything, showing you anything. He loves you. His eyes sparkle so luminescent it’s obvious. It pours out of him.

But he’ll never push it. Ever. Never just take you just to have you. There isn’t a selfish bone in him- not when it comes to his love and affection for you. He’d never do anything to make you uneasy.

A night after the hot tub, your lovely boyfriend has brought you on a weekend getaway, a bit out of the city, and he’s changed out of the skimpy towel he had slung around his hips into those light gray sweats. Torturing you, they were. Made to fit him so specifically, so fatally, just to make you lose that tad of inhibition. The inhibition that usually stops your eyes from wandering, from lingering, that inhibition that forces your eyes somewhere else. He won’t tease you. You’re not obsessed. But tonight… well, shit.

“You’re looking.”

His kitty-cat mouth curls up at the corners. His wet hair drips down bare shoulders. This is the devil, certainly. There’s no way that you could ever be tempted more.

You feel stupid. You can’t say anything. What are you supposed to say? You’d sound stupid anyways.

Warm. Cold dampness and warm, hot heartbeats ring through him. He has a pulse, and it makes it all too real. How can he be real? How can he look at you like-

Your head forces down, away, somewhere else. He doesn’t, you can’t, you don’t know how-

Minho only exhales, “I want to kiss you.”

He says it as if it’s the simplest, most obvious, easy thing. As if he just knows it and doesn’t mind it.

Your instinct is to say no, but your body surrenders. Shoulders shrink into him, and he tucks your mouth back into his direction with a finger under your chin.

Minho meets your lips without a sound, a hum, or an ounce of uncertainty.

You feel weak and wimpish, untethered in the ocean and he’s your solid, unwavering light post.

“I want you to. I want you to touch when you want to touch.” Minho says.

“I don’t kno–”

He kisses you soft again to stop your mind from running wild. “It’s not like that. There’s nothing.. there shouldn’t be anything between us, or... anything keeping you from me.”

He smiles, liking the way your fist relaxes to intertwine with his. “Or me from you.” He adds. Your hand hesitates, but finally flattens against his stomach. He inhales, and you worry that he dislikes it, but you realize.. he doesn’t. He’s just breathing. Just the same.

“That’s it..” He smiles, knowing you love his small praises and encouragement.

“You’re unreal..” You squeak.

He giggles, then, of course he does. “Promise I’m real.” His nose wiggles cutely.

He feels the moment of hesitation and instead of leaning over you, he sinks back into his pillow. Letting you have the upper hand here. His eyes watch where you touch him. He doesn’t look afraid, nervous, disgusted. He likes it. He had said it, and had followed that by showing you.

You watch that hand, too, moving it up and dragging your fingertips in a way that lets you feel each ridge and muscle in his body. Shy away from those dusky nipples, though you wouldn’t mind touching them, even with your lips.

Wonder if it would have him make a sound for you. Like the sounds he has made when your clothed bodies are gently rubbing against each other, searching for friction, when you kiss deeply sometimes.

Oh, that. You’ve done that. And that feels good. And that isn’t scary. You bring your leg over his body, and watch his expression as you do.

He gulps, watches as you sink down slightly, so you’re almost touching.

“Is it okay?” You ask.

He nods before you can even begin to regret the action.

Your lips settle over the tender skin under his ear. You find yourself sucking gently and tonguing at it. Then his lobe, then your nose drags over his throat.

Your hand has circled that nipple on its own, and he doesn’t make a sound, but his head tucks back against the pillows and his eyes shut momentarily. Good? Definitely good.

And you hadn’t done this on purpose, but you realize as you slide your hips flat against his that both of you have gone without underwear as part of your pajamas. Your cheeks flush, and Minho’s hand reaches for the divot of your hip.

“You sure?” You think he mumbles, but it’s not very comprehensible.

“Doesn’t.. have to be tonight.” He says more clearly.

Your needy clit has a mind of its own, and ruts for a ridge to grind on.

“Baby..” He grunts.

You smile, “I want to. Let me?” You ask.

“Yeah, O’course.” He says, he’d let you do anything you want. Minho’s ears are red now. You love those red little ears. You must’ve surprised him a bit.

You kiss him, copying how he has done before when you two did this. His cheeks feel warm close to yours. That bulge, soft and undefined, hardens and swells and as if to reach through the fabric. As if asking to be sat upon. You always gawked at the size of it, at least the size of it that you can feel.

Your hips find the satisfying vein to press against, and the pleasure is instant and satisfying. You smile and breathe against Minho’s mouth. His breath seems to shorten, moans sounding like pleading.

When your fingers trail down, adventurously, for a feel, it’s grown even more. Minho’s cockhead taps and reaches past his waist band. Your lips part in something like awe. Your hand instinctively wraps around it. Adjusting your body, off his lap, your hand eagerly soothes and rubs at his hardness.

It’s big, undeniably so, and your words against the side of his mouth make him burn up even more.

So much, expression so flustered, almost shy, that you pause, hand lifting to his cheek.

“Sorry. Is it okay for me to touch it?”

His eyes find yours, and he softens once more. “Always.”

You sigh into those lips. Those irresistible lips. Your hand slips past the annoying waist band.

It’s not scary when it's Minho. You know he’s made of love. Of sugar.

His hand brushes over your arm, and you pause. “Tell me if it’s good.” You whisper.

“More..”

Comes his voice, mouth wrapping slowly around the word, his eyes in-between open and shut.

Your hand cups him, thumbing the head on each upstroke, and setting a steady rhythm.

Little sounds against your ear, almost like pain, but they sound oh so nice.

“Pretty,” you kiss his cheeks.

He kisses your mouth, and no part of you fights when a finger of his licks at the buttons of your shirt. He watches your eyes, searching for any of that hesitancy or fear before he slips open the top button. Then, the next. You help him with the third and fourth.

His eyes drink in your naked chest, and you feel a pearl seep from him and into your caressing fist. His body curves when he kisses your chest, your breasts and the space between them. His eyes close and a hot breath against your goosebumped skin.

A groan, and a sigh, and his forehead against you. “You’re.. baby, shit, I’ll..” he whispers, never wanting to scare you.

Your free hand combs into his hair, tickling the nape of his neck. “Want you to. You can come.”

A few minutes of Minho’s sweet sounds, him checking that you're sure and that this is really okay, and his head lolls against your shoulder. “Kiss me.” He breathes.

You do, and within moments he’s letting you see him in the most vulnerable position. He’s never been sweeter. “Coming..” He mouths, not warning this time, just telling.

You swear when he does, when it releases over your hand, and his stomach. Thick ropes of it.

He sinks into the pillows, not letting go of your wrist and bringing you with him. Those breaths, heavy and full and because of you.

You realize he is blushing when he looks at you. You smile, in no rush to be pulled out of this moment. "Was that good?" You ask softly.

He nods. You smile, "I think I might have liked it even more." You giggle, pressing your nose to his.