#Jisung scenario | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Over the 8 seas: Jisung

Pairing: afab!reader x jisung

Word count: 9.1k … (yeah we got off track on this one)

Warnings : dom!jisung, sub!reader, lots of mentions of breast, masturbation (m and f), titty fucking (?), intercourse, mentions of male ejaculation, praise, perv (jisung is a massive perv lmao), Inspo (warning: it’s literally porn), male aggression, mentions of intoxication and alcohol.

Note: welcome to another installment !! tagging @j-0ne25 bc they wanted to be tagged:) hope you enjoy :))))

Summary: One thing leads to another when Jisung admits to having his eyes on you when he definitely shouldn’t have.

Over the 8 seas masterlist

The salt of the air, the combination of the water and descending of the sunrise was not only the signal of the closing day, but the winding down of the summer season for another year. The peak was over, and that meant your stress levels could go back to what they were before this all started.

Lifting a very heavy weight off of your shoulders meant there would be less things to do and people to worry about. Yes, Bondi was one of the busiest beaches, but as soon as March hit, most of the tourists were gone, and it was nothing but pretentious locals walking the dogs along the shore, or running along the beach line at 6:30am before the typical 9-5 office job. It’s not like you were judging all 9-5 goers, just specifically the joggers, because you couldn't remember the last time you had a decent interaction with one of them.

The back of your hand came to your forehead, swiping the precipitated skin as you took what felt like a seat in a long time. A sigh of relief came from your lips, exasperated from the variety of missing children, adults illegally bringing and littering alcohol bottles on public property, oh boy, the people who did not swim between the flags. It was a long day, meaning that you were looking forward to just slumping down on the couch and watching another episode of whatever HBO series you were watching with a heavy pour of red wine.

“What a fucking day,” Jisung sighed, scaring the complete shit out of you.

“Jesus Jisung,” you cried, almost falling out of your seat. Your reaction made him chuckle, throwing his hands in the air like a weapon had been pointed directly at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jisung was one of your oldest friends at the beach. He is one of the only people that have worked at the beach for as long as you have. Always keen, eager, motivated. Helping others was the joy he got from life. Jisung possessed many qualities that you wish you possessed. Patience, warm heartedness. It was easy to fall for Jisung, and you have a couple of times. It was just too bad that your job got in the way and the minute detail of Jisung having a girlfriend most of the time. You thought that maybe this was it for you. Time to give up.

“It’s okay Sungie,” you giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, “today was crazy, wasn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffed, turning away and opening the communal fridge, grabbing out a sandwich. He turned back around, sitting next to you. Your gaze became one of disappointment.

“Don’t tell me that’s your lunch?”

He shrugged in response, “It’s okay. Like you said, today was busy right?”

A hint of anger simmered in your heart. It was admirable yet frustrating that this was kind of the person he was. So selfless that he never put himself first. Taking care of himself last. This was something that he was adamant about. Something he always did from the day you met him.

“Still,” you playfully smacked him again, “you have to take care of yourself first before anyone else.”

He took another bite of his food, resting the calloused palm that was his right hand on your right knee. He gave you a look. One that mixed gratitude, but there was something else, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His lips almost trembled, like he was hesitant, nervous to say something.

“Y/n, you don’t have to worry about me,” he whispered, like for some reason he was worried that someone would hear, like a big secret, “I know you do and I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

Jisung’s body language was the catalyst for the tension in the room suddenly changing. He leaned closer, the hair on your skin rising with each movement. His gaze was to the floor, but yours was stuck on him. Was this finally the moment that you had been secretly hoping for? The gentle kiss of the perfect man that has been by your side the whole time? Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, really not sure what you were supposed to be anticipating. Jisung was a man that held his cards close to his chest.

“Y/n, I-”

You blinked a couple times, making sure that you were not dreaming and that it truly was a real moment.

“Yeah?” your stare practically glued to him, his features, any indication that he was giving to help you understand any cognitions he was having. But he was like an actor: able to hide and convey his emotions when appropriate. There was not one flaw to this man, and it was slowly killing you on the inside how long this was taking, even this event was anything.

“I-”

“Summer is fucking over let’s go!”

For fucks sake. You almost fell out of your chair once more, having the second fright of your life when you heard the loudmouth that was Changbin walk into the tearoom with just way too much energy for someone who was at the end of their shift. He froze in his step, already seeing too much between you and Jisung.

“You guys okay?”

“What? Oh yeah,” you huffed, hitting the air with your palm, “just tired from a long day, right Jisung?”

Your eyes widened at him, sincerely hoping he would not blow your cover of whatever it was that just happened.

“Yeah, super tired, only eating my lunch now.”

The smile on your face faded gently as you got up, placing your coffee cup in the sink. “Fuck,” you whispered, dropping your phone on the floor. Jisung, of course being the gentleman he was, noticed and dropped the floor with you in an attempt to pick it up for you. What you didn’t expect to see was where his eyes landed. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to make the heat in your cheeks rise. You were right, this particular lifeguard shirt was that little too big for you, however, what you didn't expect was Jisung, the man that could be by defined chivalry and dismantled the patriarchy taking advantage of said gap, with his eyes. They were wide too, like it was a kid finding their favorite flavored lollipop in a candy store. It really was enough for you to squeeze the fabric together as the two of your rose. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, if anything it was the opposite. It was more just to save face as Changbin was still lingering around with his very unwanted presence that the current moment. He still, between the ogling, managed to pick up your phone.

“Here,” he mumbled, now unable to look at you completely.

“Thanks,” you smiled, a silence filling the room as the two of you stared, unsure whether to mention the tension in the air coming to an all time peak. Did he know that he had been caught? Were you perceiving this completely wrong? It was one thing to accuse the guy of staring at your tits, it was another to embarrass him in front of his other colleague and superior when it may not have even been true. An objective perspective, however, could see that there was so much more, the layers of chemistry was an overwhelming revelation.

“What the fuck is up with you guys?”

Heads snapped simultaneously, a look of disdain causing your cheeks to turn upwards and the lack of manners Changbin, with his legs spread wide, chewing and talking, yelling, interfering with his mouth open. Crunchy flakes crusting on the sound of his mouth.

“Jesus christ, Changbin,” your mouth was upturned in the most disgust, “ever heard of talking after swallowing your food?”

“Yeah dude” Jisung scoffed, “I love you and all, but you really have to learn how to act like you're not a neanderthal sometimes.”

The adult child scoffed, a large chunk of corn flake coming out.

“You guys stop deflecting, and just fuck.”

An audible gasp was heard from the bellows of your throat.

“Changbin,” Jisung growled, chest beginning to puff, “what the fuck-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his chest to deflate him a little, “Changbin, that is so inappropriate. I understand this is a friendly environment and we are friends, but I will not be disrespected in the workplace like this. Don’t make this hostile, otherwise I will report you, do you understand?”

The young man nodded, small, suddenly closing his legs and off from the two of you, eating the rest of his food in peace. Wanting to evade the awkwardness, you nudged Jisung, signaling him to leave with you. He was flabbergasted, not used to seeing you talk like this. Maybe it was an overreaction from you. Maybe because part of you wished it was true. It was still unprofessional to say, especially in front of others.

Walking into the locker/shower room was fine, needing to grab yourself. So did Jisung too. Another silence fell over as the two of you packed your things for the day.

“Do you think I was too harsh?” you questioned, closing your locker door behind you.

“Not at all,” Jisung reassured you, following your actions with the locker door, “it’s super inappropriate to talk like that at work?”

“Right? And where would he even get that from?”

A forced laugh came from your lips. Definitely not from the way you were exchanging lingering looks for an abnormally long time. Not him staring at the gap in your shirt. There was definitely no reason for Changbin to come to such a conclusion.

“Yeah,” Jisung scoffed, way too loud to be convincing, “that’s crazy talk.”

“Definitely. Anyways, I’m going to have a shower and then go. Did you need anything from me?”

“Uh,” scratching the back of his head, he became stuck in thought, “not that I can think of.”

“Okay,” you smiled, heading into the stall, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He nodded, about to turn and leave, but it was when you forgot to completely close the stall, and he detected out of the peripheral vision of his right eye that your hands were above your head, initiating the process of discarding your clothes. Was this a test for him? He wasn’t sure. But he was willing to take the bait. Creeping to the side of the stall, Jisung had a perfect view of you, your bikini top resting atop your chest. He had never been so jealous of a piece of clothing in his life. He had to stop his breathing when it was then discarded next, the image of your breasts, almost like relieving themselves from a hard day of work, they escaped the suffocating clothing, well in his mind they were suffocating. He really had never been so attracted to someone in his life. Jisung could feel the tent in his pants approaching as soon as the water was turned on and you were standing under it. A simple hum escaped your lips as you allowed the cascading stream of steamy water to enclose your body, tiny droplets pitter pattering across your chest, the intensity of the water making your nipples hard; Jisung was in heaven.

The only part of you that he was focused on was your chest. Jisung did not even take a second to notice your glistening arms, legs or waist. He was so fixated that he truly forgot where he was. It baffled him that you failed to notice his presence there, hard, longing for you in an amount he never had before.

The water felt nice. It was able to help you relax from the intense situation you had found yourself in. Almost a little too much. Your mind couldn’t help but wander, traveling to the multitudes of scenarios that popped up from the various half and hour of being that close to Jisung. It was easy to take those times further, the storytelling part of your brain was exquisite. It’s what helped come to the visually pleasing image as you closed your eyes, hands roaming across your hips, stomach, waist, chest. Exactly where he was looking. You knew better than to do what you were about to do at this very moment; but you couldn't help it. Forgetting where you were was way too easy as your fingers attached themselves to the sensitive nubs, gently pinching and squeezing in such a comfortable way. A gentle groan came from your lips as one hand flicked, the other massaged the corresponding breast, now a multitude of soft whimpers and moans spilling from your throat, quiet in a poor attempt of making sure no one heard. But you didn't know any better. This was almost an everyday ritual, whether at home or here, it did not matter. When you have privacy (or so you thought) it was a moment alone when you were at peace with yourself. Your mind, however, is always racing, consuming thoughts of him. Jisung was the perfect man in your eyes. So care free and fun, while simultaneously respectful. It was almost impossible that such a man existed.

Or so you thought, because when the moment he saw you reach for what he considered to be those beautifully shaped nipples, his jaw was on the floor, slack in complete disbelief at the idea of you just touching yourself like that, in public, door open, anyone able to walk in at any moment. Maybe that’s the hottest thing he found about this. That you were so confident yet concurrently careless. Fuck, were you doing this on purpose?

It didn’t matter, because even when your fingers disappeared from your chest down to your core, the damp tingling in between your legs, he paid no mind, truly fascinated at how they got harder with each passing second. Jisung was careless about his own hardening body parts, truly in a trance of how beautiful he perceived your actions to be. He didn’t even think about it in a way that was nasty, hot, sexy, even though it was. He was in a truly mesmerized state, one that he could stay in forever. Even when you were leaning against the wall of the stall, hips caressing your fingers, getting closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps vaguely close to the locker room that he shit himself, a quick step into the empty stall next to him until it was gone. It was only then he realized the ramifications of his actions. An immense level of guilt washed over his body at the epiphany. What made it worse was that he was still completely erect, cock far from cooling off even though the hurts that swiped across his mind were telling him how disgusting he was. He felt betrayed by his brain, like he was a massive hypocrite. If he was being honest, any chance he got he took the chance to stare at your chest. A split second when you’re talking to him. When you can see him, when you think he can’t. Jisung was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind. He even remembered the first time he did it.

You were standing there, back to Jisung, innocently taking your top off and turning around to him, bikini only as you were having a serious conversation about supplies or funding or some fucking irrelevant shit about the beach; his actual fucking job.

Like yourself, he prided himself on being respectful, a gentle gentleman. Chivalrous, everything you described him to be, he was; on the outside; but Jisung truly, was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind.

Panic began to flood his limbs as he tiptoed as fast as he could, grabbing his stuff and heading for the door. He was whipped lashed, however, by Felix, the younger amateur lifeguard that he very much forgot he promised to give a ride home. He was way too distracted by a pair of boobs, but he was also very much in denial about it.

“Jisung?”

He said nothing, instead turning to the boy who had a confused look on his face.

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour for you. Didn’t you finish at 6?”

Fuck, 30 mins he spent staring at your fucking chest. To jisung however it still wasn’t enough.

“What? Oh, yeah I had to help Y/n with putting some equipment away, sorry dude I should have texted you.”

“Oh that’s cool,” Fliex shrugged, really unsure how to interpret Jisung’s face. It truly was like he had just seen a ghost.

What it really was, however, was the lingering guilt, disgust, repulsion he felt for himself in the moment. Even the drive home was quiet, unable to even comprehend the music playing. Jisung was really just going through the motions as he dropped Felix off, parked his car, walked into his apartment and threw his shit on the ground, falling in the shape of a snow angel on his bed.

He pondered as he stared at the ceiling, robot-like actions coming to a halt, the familiar feelings of disgust and guilt coming back. The way he opened your instagram late at night and jerked off to almost all of your pictures. You were his best friend, he really shouldn’t think of you like that.

You, on the other hand, were no better. The similar, perverted thoughts consumed your mind as well. You just fucking masturbated at your place of work, to your coworker, in a public space that anyone could have seen. Your extremely sexy and attractive coworker, but that didn’t make it better.

A shower at home, again, was enough for the moment to rid yourself, quite literally wash yourself off your sin. Forget the mind boggling orgasm that was provoked by the thought of Jisung being close to you. It was back to grandma mode for you, glasses on, side lamp on and reading a book to help you fall asleep. Your mind was back at peace, partly wanting to forget today. It was always a lingering thought in your mind.

Your lids were shutting, on the verge of falling into a deep sleep, that was, until your phone buzzed, almost falling off your side table as you opened one eye, groaning in annoyance that you had to check it. Huh? J-han00 liked your post? You didn’t post a pic. Your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the notification. But as soon as you did, opening instagram, it was gone. What an idiot you thought. Stalking you. The smile on your face, on the contrary, told another story. It didn’t matter, because it was time to sleep, and you did like a baby.

It was when you got to work, the calmness and lack of regret switched into full blown anxiousness and real regret, because your heart sank to your ass when you saw him. But you couldn't forget that you were a leader. You were the managing lifeguard of the fucking Bondi beach. You knew better than to let this little crush overtake your very serious work. A born leader does not walk away when the going gets tough.

Today, thank god, was an admin day for you. No active duty. This meant you got to sit at your desk, closed off from the others. A sigh of relief came from your lips from the fact that any necessary interactions with Jisung had not occurred. Your bag was on the floor, you sitting in your chair as you opened your laptop, connecting it with your desktop. It was somewhat annoying how long it took this ancient system to reboot. If anything you could fall asleep at the turtle pace. What did keep you awake, however, was the triple knock that came from the opposite of your door.

“Come in.”

Failing to turn around was a mistake, the familiar voice of your friend on the receiving end of your cold gesture.

“Hey Y/N,” Jisung mumbled, resulting in you turning around to face him. Fuck. He actually did his hair today. The gel pricked strands pushed up, exposing the bare skin that covered his forehead. Clothes looked together, a tank with the sleeves cut off. His shoulders had not been exposed like that for a while. Suddenly you were feeling hot, hastily grabbing the water in your bag, sculling generously before actually acknowledging his presence with words.

“Jisung? Hey, how are you this morning?”

The sudden memory of your, well, activities last night flooded into your mind like an emergency tsunami; currently consuming all of your thoughts. You were unable to look at him straight. Was it him or was it you? Did he actually put in an effort, or did the lenses of your vision and how you perceive Jisung suddenly change?

“I’m good. Uhm,” his voice was quiet, swaying his foot from side to side as he looked at the ground in front of him and not at you, “I just wanted to clear up something with you.”

Oh shit. This could literally be anything. But he did not look like his usual self. Jisung was far from the nervous type.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh uhm, just the like on your profile by accident. It wasn’t me. I was with some mates and I-”

“Oh,” you replied, tone oblivious, “you liked my photo? I didn’t see.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened, face turning red at his unnecessary admission, “yeah, I, nevermind.”

“Is that all today?”

Your smile was kind, wanting to make him feel comfortable. The tension between the two of you since yesterday was tense, wound up if you will. It still, however, did not need to get in between your work.

“I wish, “ he chuckled, posture now upright and returning back to the man you know, “there’s a couple of drunk people on the beach. We want to kick them off but they won't leave unless they talk to a supervisor.”

An excessive eye roll took over your vision. Drunk people on the beach were the worst. Just always taking it too far and a complete hassle to get rid off. He felt bad coming to you also, knowing that this was your least favorite thing to deal with.

“ For fucks sake,” you scoffed, getting up from your seat, “Australian’s are just bunch of fucking alcoholics.”

Without thought, you grabbed the yellow shirt out of your bag, practically ripping off your current attire, completely. You were too consumed by rage to realize that you were now bra and bikeshorts only. Jisung quickly turned the other way, even though he really did not want to.

“Right,” he mumbled, not wanting to interrupt your vigorous rant, “yeah, crazy stuff.”

“Like it’s midday and they’re already smashed? Go to your fucking 9-5.”

The current oblivion was a disaster for you, because once again, you failed to realize that Jisung was still in the room with you, and now creeping those perverted eyes back to your body. A frustrated hand ran through your own hair, pacing back and forth as words continued to be spewed a consistent string of curse words. He knew it really shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did. Mainly because half your tits were out and you were cursing back and forth, easy to fuel his desires of what you would sound like under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter, it was not what was important right now.

It felt like years of waiting for you to dress yourself, grab a walkie talkie and head out to the beach to confront these losers. Ah of course, there they were. Two quite large, muscular men laughing their heads off, sitting right next to the water: idiots. It was easily audible how drunk they were by the mass slurring of words when trying to converse.It wasn’t a difficult task to kick intoxicated people off of the beach, but you were reducing someone from being unable to swim any day of the week. Jisung followed you in pursuit, not wanting to take over his supervisor. You approached slowly, unsure how they were going to react to the news of being kicked off.

“Good afternoon gentleman, how are we doing today?”

The two said nothing, instead bursting with laughter at the sight of you.

“What seems to be the entertainment here guys?”

They smiled again, looking at each other before the one closest to the shore line spoke.

“You’re the supervisor are ya?”

“Yes I am.”

The two laughed, again. Great. Two misogynistic, drunk pricks. Today was supposed to be the first day of relaxation, not even on active duty. But of course there had to be people that always made your job that more difficult. Jisung went to step forward, but you placed your hand on his chest, motioning that you’ve got this in the bag.

“Is there an issue with that?”

“We w-want to speak t-to a r-real s-”

“Well I’m all there is. My colleague has asked you nicely to please leave the beach as you are currently committing a crime or we will call the police and have you forcibly removed.”

It was the first time they had paid attention to you, the look of humor on their faces quickly dissipating, turning into anger. Their eyebrows were furrowed as they attempted to stand, swaying quite a bit before stepping closer, a poor strive at intimidation as they puffed their chests in an overbearing compensation of masculinity. Yes, they were much taller, and bigger, but they were certainly no match for you.

“You heard her,” Jisung grumbled, fitting in between the small gap between you and this hideous man, “leave or we will kick you off.”

“Wow you think you’re a tough guy huh,” he chuckled, now pressing his chest up against your fellow colleague. The last you wanted is for him to get into a fist fight with two very intoxicated individuals. You nudged him to the side once again, wanting to relieve some of the tension that was unfolding at this moment. You couldn’t help but let the small part of your mind admire the way he stood up for you. Like he would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. Jisung really was the most urbane human you had the pleasure of meeting, so you would die if anything happened to him because of you.

“Let’s not be brash so we can all come to a single understanding.”

“Fuck that,” he scoffed, “we aren’t d-doing anything ill-iilegal.”

“Listen here buddy,” you growled, patience beginning to wear thin, “you are breaking the law by bringing a substance prohibited on the beach, as well as public intoxication, though I’m sure you’re not too capable of understanding a word I just said, did you?”

They said nothing, instead the quiet one pushing you into the water, head hitting the crushed up shells digging into the back of your head. The shore line washed over your face, eyes crippling with what felt like fire as the salt water took over your eyesight. Mumbled voices could be heard from the water. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes at the embarrassment and humiliation you felt at this current moment. The only thing you could concentrate on was the limbs, hands, fingers reaching out to lift you up, opening your eyes, you took the invitation, standing up next to them. Pulling out the walkie talkie, you pressed the button, speaking into it,

“Did you get that over?”

“Yup,” Hyunjin replied to the speaker, “the police have just arrived and are walking over to the two of you. Can you see them, over?”

“We can, thanks Hyunjin, over.” Luckily there were always people watching from the tower.

Jisung’s first concern was you, the police already over and standing in front of the two humans that you could barely call men. Jisung, seeing as you were a little bit out of it, eyes red from the acidity of the water, explained what happened. A police report would need to be filled out, but that was something that could be done later. Now wanting to interact or provoke them again, you fled the scene quickly, running back to your office and slamming the door behind you. Do not disturb the sign on the door. That sign was only used for when you were on conference calls or competing for confidential information about beach goers or staff. Today, however, was a cop out excuse to use it.

A couple of tears choked you as you checked the back of your head in the mirror, making sure there were no lumps and cuts from the rough beach surface. It was one thing to be disrespected, it was another to be looked down on for who you are. It was always disheartening, and you don’t know if being a woman in a male dominated industry would ever get easier.

A knock interrupted your feel sorry for yourself session, but you ignored it, not wanting to face any of your staff that all saw you fall flat on your ass. Your staff would never make fun of you for such a thing, but it did bruise your ego a little bit. The knock came again, followed by you continuing to ignore. It wasn’t until the knock was persistent, a small voice coming from the other side.

You were thankful, however, that out of all the people that could be at your office door, it was Jisung. He stormed in, closing the door behind him.

“Jisung I’m really busy I-”

“Shush,” he hissed, turning your chair in front of him, grabbing your arm, and sitting you down. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs apart so he could scooch in between. A small torch appeared in the palm of his hands, the switch flicked and swiftly brought to your eyesight. Of course. A concussion test. Maybe it was just an excuse to be close to you. It didn’t matter, because Jisung’s closeness was something that you always craved, in any form.

“Jisung I don’t have concussion,” you sighed, “I’m not in the mood for fun antics.”

“I know but it sounded pretty hard when you fell. Look to the left, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

It was unfair to be harsh to Jisung, especially when he was being caring and kind. He really didn’t need to do any of this.

“I’m fine, just a little embarrassed,” you mumbled, causing Jisung to grab your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

His face was close, eyes boring into you while he attempted to console you. The feeling of the room was the same as the one yesterday, when your phone fell to the floor. It had to be an invitation. It had to be a sign.

“I don’t?”

Your voice was soft, fear that it would crack and ruin what was becoming an intimate moment.

“Never. Those guys are the ones that should be embarrassed. You’re a great lifeguard. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

It was this moment, the brief seconds of silence in between Jisun’s last words, and the way he was looking at you, that you lunged forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was short, because you pulled away, coming to the realization that this was crazy. Your jaw dropped, arms withdrawing from and and the left hand covering your mouth.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I-”

Jisung took the hand from your mouth that was covering your mumble. His smile was big, giddy almost, as he took you in again, this time his hands cupping each side of your face as he returned the first unrequited kiss, much more vigor applied to your lips. Eyes fluttering shut, Jisung glided his lips together with yours, things heating up at a rapid rate as his tongue begged for entrance. You complied, a soft groan releasing from your throat at how good his tongue felt. The sudden sensation of touch was imminent to you. His hands on your face, the texture of them felt so strong, and what you could equate to this longing of closeness that you always desired towards him. Your arms came to his chest, scrunching the material and you brought his body closer, any part of him that you wanted you could get.

“Wait,” he mumbled, pulling away in a sudden movement of desperation, “I can’t do this.”

Your heart sank, face heated at the new level of humiliation you didn’t know was even possible. Was he really about to shatter your heart into a million pieces? Even if he did, you knew that you wouldn’t be that sad, purely because he would do it in a way that was so polite and gentle. Unlike you.

“Can’t do what?”

The guilt was eating him up alive. He knew he had to confess to his sinful desires before doing anything. It felt unfair any other way. He took a step back, standing up with his hands behind his back.

“I have to be honest with you.”

“Okay?”

“I, yesterday, after the locker room, when I ‘went home,’ I didn’t go home.”

Your wrinkles in your forehead became apparent at the confusion in what he was about to say.

“Okay?”

“Fuck, I noticed that you left the shower door open and well, fuck how do I even say this?”

“Just spit it out,” you mumbled. The anticipation was killing you inside.

“I was watching you.”

At first, a swipe of anger coursing through your veins. Why the fuck would Jisung, the well known individual for gentleman like behaviours would watch you shower. You stood up,chest on your hand as you subtly walked closer to him. His eyes went straight to the digits that lay along there. He couldn’t believe he was still doing this. Confessing to you his dirty secret while also still partaking in it at the same time.

“You were watching me shower?”

Fuck he couldn’t even look you in the eye now. Full shame taking over his body, every fiber of him. This was the most humiliating moment of his life. You weren’t far behind however, because when your mind traveled back to last night’s shower, you weren’t exactly using it for showering purposes either. Oh my god. You had to find out what it was he actually saw.

“Yes. I watched you shower. I saw you, taking your shirt off, bikini, panties, all of it. The way the shower water trickled down your body, over those beautiful tits. I saw everything.”

The vulgarity of his words took you by surprise. It was never the way you had heard your friend speak. Part of you is surprised that he would take it that far; but part of you is not. There were multiple times that you had caught him staring at your chest. You were still speechless however, unsure if you should still ask, did he see everything? You could tell Jisung was getting nervous too, seeing as you had no reaction or slight verbal communication. Honestly, he was dying on the inside, and if you didn’t speak now, he might explode.

“Are you mad?”

His voice came out small, but honestly, you didn’t know if you were or not. Your gaze left his eyes for a moment, consumingly drifting down to his shorts. Surely he wasn’t hard from this conversation? Oh my god he was fucking hard. The tent in his pants was impossible to miss. You took a step closer, Jisung biting down on his bottom lips, eyes not moving a millimeter as he watched you come closer and closer.

“Y/n, please,” he whined, desperate to know your inner thoughts, “are you mad? I’m really sorry, if you want to fire me-”

“Fire you?”

He hated that he found your tone of voice so seductive right now. It just made his eyes want to flutter shut, listen to your voice like an ASMR video that he found deeply pleasurable. He knew that you noticed his cock tenting in his pants, but he didn’t care. It was already out in the open that he was perv, hiding it would just be a waste of energy. The more you looked at him, the quicker the anger or any negative emotion of that matter faded. It made you curious. Almost like testing the waters. Using some force, you took a wrist from behind his back, opening up the closed fist and hovering it over your pussy. His jaw was agape, but you could tell that’s not where he wanted to touch you most.

“I don’t want to fire you, and no I’m not mad, if anything, I’m kind of flattered.”

Once you placed his own hand over your shirt, it was game over. Jisung’s lips smashed against yours, tongue begging for access as soon as the two of you collided. Hand that was free digging into your hips on one side, hands already placed staying where it was as he walked you back, the curve of your ass soft hitting the front of your desk. Jisung’s hard on was rubbing against the side of your leg. Sitting atop of the desk and spreading your legs, you invited him to come in closer, now able to feel it against your rutting crotch. The ache was already far from dull, but it didn't matter. You wanted this to last as long as possible. The do not disturb sign was up, and the walls were mostly soundproof, so it really could be dragged out as long as you wanted, no softness needed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, breaking away to breathe for a split moment, “your lips are so soft.”

He continued to break away, spreading a multitude of kisses across your cheek, down your jawline, to your ear lobe. The Jisung you knew before was already gone, and you could see from the darkness in his eyes that this was who he really was.

“Jisung,” you gasped in between, his teeth gently nibbling on the peachy skiing texture, “what happened? I thought you were such a gentleman?”

“That’s just a facade,” he whispers, licking a thick stripe of the side of your neck, “I’m anything but a gentleman, and now I'm going to show you me, the real me.”

His teeth dove into the easily accessible skin that met your neck and collarbone. A deep groan, one of shock , bellowed your throat, Jisung sucking in the most sensitive skin you had. He kept his hand firmly on your left tit, kneading and massaging it as much as he could without losing control of himself. If he had a dollar for everytime he thought about wanting to do this, he would never have to work again. It was something that constantly consumed his cognitions. Even his subconscious if he knew what was in there. Jisung was a filthy animal that had nothing but brain rot for you and your tits. He wasn't endeavoring it, like you had planned to yourself, but the impatience was growing. You swatted his hand away, lifting your arms and giving him the single to take it off. The noise was loud when it hit the concrete floor, still wet from the tow douchebags. But Jisung didn’t care. All he could focus on was that fact that this was the first time you were voluntarily exposing yourself to him. The guilt he once had was gone, and the fact that he was in a way being rewarded is what baffled his mind. His face let your shoulder, giving you a look.

“Wait, can you, do you have, it’s probably too much to ask.”

Your chest was heaving up and down, very fast, symbolic of the past couple of minutes before you could answer.

“Is this something you think about when you think of me?”

“Honestly, yeah. It’s your bikini top.”

“Oh,” you smirked, reaching underneath your desk and grabbing the desired item out of your bag, “you mean this?”

Jisung’s eyes lie up like a christmas tree as you gently unclasped your bra, watching the way it elegantly fell across your waist and to the floor. Jisung was much more fixated on covering yourself back up with the flimsy piece of fabric rather than your actual naked upper body itself. Once the material covered the front, you turned around, pointing to the strings from behind.

“Could you help me tie them up?”

Your voice was low, seductive, putting the man beside you in a trance, hands sliding up the sides of your body until they reached your upper back. His fingers were delicate, the feeling of his calloused palms removed as he tied the strings to each other, perfect bows in length and strength. Once he spun you back around, he pressed another sensual kiss to your lips, this time completely intending to completely devour you and your lips. It was working, because the longer his lips were lingeried, the stronger the throb between at your core. Jisung was already attractive enough as it was, but it hit you again like a ton of bricks. The way his lips, hands, body, his whole being worshiping the ground you walked on. The sweet mixture of his care and attention mixed with the saltiness of his perverted desires was making your mind spin, and he really hadn’t even done anything yet.

He pulled away, another smoke coating his lips as he looked at you with heavy lust.

“I was going to make you get on your knees, but you can sit on your chair if you like, wouldn't want those pretty knees to get bruised do we?”

“Use me however you want Jisung.”

You wanted to comply, partly because Jisung’s lust driven haze was controlling your mind, but also because it was nice to have someone take control for once. The last thing you wanted to do after a day of work was take care of more people. It was honestly a fantasy of being marched around, told what to do, and Jisung was about to fulfill this perfectly.

It was his turn to undress himself, taking no time to undo the drawstring on his yellow shorts, swiftly removing boxers in one motion as he stood closer. The way his cock sprung free, like it was beginning to release almost made you drool. You opened your mouth automatically, assuming that you were going to have the delight of tasting him, but he had other plans. Jisung gave himself a few strokes of relief before lining himself up with your chest; ah, now you understand. Lifting your hands from your side, you pushed your tits together, the contact of his tip with your chest making you gasp. His cock slid very easily in the space created by your hands, Jisung’s head rolling back automatically once he moved back and forth. This would not have been something you thought about doing, but you’re glad that Jisung has these dirty ideas of his own, because you were moving every second. Taking one hand away from your chest you placed it at the base of his cock, making sure that all of his cock was receiving the love that was the sensation of your body, your touch.

“Oh my god,” Jisung growled, voice deep in thought, “I can’t believe how good this feels.”

“I’m glad,” you giggled, enjoying with much innocence this was affecting Jisung, “I bet you’ve thought about this many times.”

Your whole body was moving with each thrust, Jisung’s movements increasing with stamina the more he lost himself in the pleasurable feeling.

“Wait,” you questioned, making him come to a halt. You pumped his cock, not wanting him to lose any sensation as you used your other hand to pull down your top, now completely exposing yourself to him. His head snapped and his eyes looked like they were almost about to cry at the sight. His hands went for the automatic grab, palms grazing the hardness of your nipples as he pushed them together himself, cock running back and forth the cleavage.

“Hmm, your hands,” you moaned, chair beginning to creak at how hard he was pumping his cock, “feel really good.”

“Shit,” he hissed, “I’m gonna cum if I don’t stop.”

But there was a cognitive dissonance with his words and his actions, because he didn’t stop. The position was somewhat awkward,but you didn't care, completely infatuated and aroused by how fixated Jisung was on your tits, and using your body to get himself off.

“You okay baby,” Jisung groaned, “am I hurting you?”

“No baby,” you cooed, a soft moan and the flicking of your left nipple, “feels really good.”

“I want you to feel really good though baby,” he leaned down, pressing another sensuous kiss to your lips, “want to make sure you know you’re all mine.”

Mine, the word made your heart flutter.

“Well,” you hummed, keeping a hand on the base of his cock as you stood up and out of your chair, “you have your fantasies, I have my own.”

Jisung was taken aback by your statement. He thought he was the only one that was dirty minded, clouded by lustful and devil crazed things he wanted to do to you.

“You do?”

“Of course,” you huffed, letting go of him and pushing by the chest back into your seat. He couldn’t help himself, gently gratifying himself with his hands as he observed you taking off your shorts, now damp panties following, leaving you completely nude. Jisung took his bottom lip between his teeth, noticing how sticky the insides of your thighs were.

“When I was showering, last night, you know when you were watching me?”

You smirked, so easily resulting in him being embarrassed once again.

“Ha ha,” he mocked, still stroking himself. He was shameless at this point.

“I was thinking about you, you know.”

“You were?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a straddle seat on his lap, “exactly like you are now.”

His length pressing against the outside of your folds a small moan leaked. This stickiness that was your arousal coating his shaft as you tenderly initiated the grind, pussy folds opening up and messing up his cock. The anticipation was killing you, as it was him, however, at the same time, it felt too good to stop, and you knew it wasn’t enough to make either of you cum in the moment.

“Yeah baby,” you whispered, a euphonious sound escaping your lips in between your words, “you’re not the only one that has a perverted mind.”

And when Jisung smiled at your words, you knew that he was your person. He was you in the male form. It was disgustingly sexy how much of him being a sexual pervert for you turned you on, and you should feel ashamed, guilty for it. But the equally morally corrupt part of you loved it, thrived on it. You were so fucking dirty, and so was he, and it was something that you really fucking loved about him.

“Fuck, you’re so mine,” he chuckled, a deep growl to his voice as his hands stayed on your tits in any way shape and form. He went back to kneading, then using his mouth to suck on them, hard, pinching, flicking with his fingers. He was obsessed, and now he was worried that he needed to be touching them all the time; he was selfish and couldn’t help it. The use of mine, again, made your hips jump, the tip of his cock nudging at your clit, which singalled the moment that the tease, prolonged fest was over.

“Can I sit on your cock?”

He didn’t even take the time to reply, taking his hands off your tits for a split second, a hand guiding you to the tip of his cock, the other wanting a simple taste of you, dipping his index and middle finger taking an intense swipe from your hole, through your folds, and up to his tongue. Your breath became heavy at the extremely attractive behavior jisung was displaying. It helped speed up the process, hand on his base and you leisurely slid down his length, allowing yourself time to adjust to his girth. A simultaneous sigh of relief escaped both of your chests as he filled you up all the way, bottoming you out, before you rose again, yourself completely in charge of the pace. The start was slow, giving you the perfect amount of time in between thrusts to feel him buried deep inside your pussy.

“God you’re so wet,” Jisung scoffed, the sounds of squelching and skin slapping filling the room, “so tight too.”

Your hands were now wrapped around his neck once again, his hands on your tits as he did not massage them, letting them spring free and very, very thoroughly enjoying the bounce they showed as you rode him.

“Hmmmm,” you whined, unable to form a coherent sentence, “so good.”

“You like my cock baby?”

“Yes.” The mumble was low enough, but Jisung wanted to hear you. Wanted to hear how well his cock was making your crumble. How well he was filling your lustful desires. He needed the validation of knowing that he was doing a good job. It’s something he looked for when he did his job patrolling the beach. Even though he was just as experienced as you were. He valued you and your opinion that much, so this was very important to you.

“You’re doing such a good job riding me cock like that baby,” he chuckled, hand snaking up your back and around your neck as he brought you close for another deep, longing kiss. God, he just couldn’t get enough of you, and the feeling was mutual.

“I fucking love you cock Jisung,” you grunted, pulling away from his swollen lips, beginning to find it difficult to keep a consistent rhythm. He moaned at the way you said his name, beads of sweat forming on his forehead the longer the two of you sat there, inside of each other. Your head was on the verge of rolling back, the slight assistance of Jisung spanking your tit and completing the full action of your neck practically snapping back. Eyes screwed shut, solely concentrating on the small moans and string of cuss words escaping his lips as you brought your pace to a very slow rate, hips now in more of a rolling motion rather than straight up and down.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he spat, juices covering your tits now, the sight ver visually pleasing to him, “I die when you say my name like that.”

“Jisung,” you whined, “Jisung, baby, I want you.”

“You want me to fuck you princess?”

“Yes,” you huffed, almost out of breath.

“Tell me baby,” he cooed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, “say it.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, legs emerging into shaking as you became desperate for him, “please fuck me.”

“Hmm, okay, such a good girl for asking.”

Jisung’s hands reluctantly withdrew from your chest one last time, the pressure mounding on your hips as you forced you to a halt. Palms now moving to your hands, he stood up, legs wrapping around him without a thought to remain close to him. Another make out session has begun, and jisung had the smooth effort of walking you around, pinning you up against the wall. He kept you there, legs still wrapped around his torso as he began to move, however, an unforgiving pace was being set. It forces you to pull away, a face of shock yet desperation plastered across your facial features. This was impossible to last to, but maybe that was the point. Jisung was definitely sick of your antics at this point. Your chest eye level with his face as he leaned forward, moaning at the way your tits fell on his face with each thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, “I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Fuck I’m, I-” your voice cm out weak, slightly cracking at the last word, “I can’t hold it much longer.”

“That’s okay baby,” he puffed, practically out of breath at how hard he was working to please you, “just tell me when you’re cumming okay?”

You nodded, pussy beginning to unconsciously clench around his length. A high pitched moan escaped your lips as you felt the pit of your stomach reaching what you knew to be your peak. Jisung’s was becoming sloppy himself, not sure how much he can last, but the last place he wanted to finish, respectfully, was in you.

“Jisung please,” you cried, “I can't last any longer.”

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, slowing his pace down to satisfy you, “cum for me.”

On cue, your body reacted in the exact way he wanted you to do, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as you came what felt like over and over. Jisung took you off the wall, soothingly hushing you and placing you on your desk, legs hanging on his shoulders as he allowed you to ride out your high. He, however, was on the verge too, and he was dying to ask you one thing.

“Y/n, baby, I need to bust,” he whines, making you giggle, “fuck.”

“You want to cum on my tits?”

He nodded vigorously, taking no time to pull out of you and pump himself with so much purpose. The loss of contact made you whimper, but you were easily distracted by the moans and groans that escaped his lips as the copious amount of white ropes were released, coating your, in his opinion, precious tits to a pulp. His waist shuddered, but nonetheless, Jisung was back to his gentleman self, carrying to your seat and getting the lucky tissue box on your desk, Jisung wiping the remnants of himself off your chest. You giggled at the motion, somewhat embarrassed at what had just occurred in the ‘professionalism’ of your work office. Jisung clothed himself first then grabbed your discarded items and helped you dress yourself. You had to stand, holding his hand as you stepped into your shorts and panties.

Once the both of you were fully clothed, you pressed one more kiss to his lips, unable to rid yourself of the grin the was woven into your face. He followed, finally happy that he was able to get the girls of his dreams. Holding your hand, the two of you lingered, all of a sudden unable to look at each other.

“There’s something else that I lied about by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t my friend. It was me.”

#jisung #jisung smut #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #han jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung fic #jisung fic #han jisung scenario #han jisung imagine #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #jisung x reader #ch4nb4ng

644 notes · View notes

rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

liebestraum [park jisung]

if anyone asked park jisung if he believed in ghosts, he would say yes– for he saw longing grow legs and follow him.

pairing: park jisung x fem! reader genre: summer break au. coming of age, slice of life, angst, fluff warnings: mentions of parents' divorce, swearing word count: 11k (11.190) playlist: liebestraum - franz liszt / the gold - phoebe bridgers / our summer - txt / could cry just thinking about you - troye sivan / burning love - elvis presley / if not for you - maneskin / we'll never have sex - leith ross / christmas kids - roar / raindrops (an angel cried) - ariana grande / ceilings - lizzy mcalpine / the loneliest - maneskin / about you - the 1975

a/n: this is mainly for you, liebestraum anon <3 thank you so much for being the most supportive friend, i really enjoy talking with you. hope the wait was worth it and hope the fic doesn't disappoint. i think that if it wasn't for you, this fic would never see the light of day HAHA

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. His head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him.

He finds himself fantasizing about stuff like this a lot lately. Listening to classical music– because of course his aunt listens to music from the 19th century, she’s almost as old as the composers themselves– he wonders what came through the mind of the author of the song when he wrote such trivial melodies.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung drifts away to a soft slumber, deep enough to make him more tired, but light enough to wake him up when the doorbell rings and the obnoxious laughter of his dear aunt pierces through his ears.

His aunt wakes him up with a screech. Frankly, it hasn’t been that long since he’s fallen asleep and he truly doesn’t really know if it was his position on the floor that made her scream, or the fact that he’s embarrassing her in front of the guests by sleeping on the floor in the living room, but nonetheless, he’s quick to stand up and bow to the guests, trying hard to be respectful.

His aunt nervously chews on the inside of her cheek. Her smile is a little too forced when she introduces all of them to him, but he tries hard to ignore the fact that she looks like an utter clown, pretending her house is a beautiful, welcoming shrine, because laughing out loud at her antics would surely do him no good. See, Jisung doesn't like to anger his aunt. It’s not that he doesn't enjoy the silent treatment she gives him, finally letting him breathe in the quiet– the feeling of suffocating escaping him for once in a while– but he simply just doesn’t enjoy it when she only glares at him and doesn’t speak more words than a single sentence announcing when the dinner’s ready. It only serves to make him feel more alienated.

“Jisung, these are my friends from university,” his aunt recites, sounding rehearsed, and he bets she acted out the scene in her head a thousand times before falling asleep last night, so it’s all perfect when the actual moment happens in real life, “their names are Jinyoung and Nayeon, they met in university and got married a few years later.”

He hums, scamming the adults from head to toe, noticing the neat way they present themselves. He wonders if this is how his parents looked to strangers when they used to visit their old friends. The truth is, they never looked as neat and as in tune with each other as this couple does in his eyes– but maybe he just wasn’t able to perceive them this way due to the image he made of their marriage when they were at home.

Eyes traveling to the person behind them, the fringe falling to their forehead, he gets captivated by a mysterious look in their orbs, hands hidden in the pockets of their jacket. Jisung’s not too sure if his aunt caught him staring at the unintroduced guest– now, he will admit that he stared at the person, for they were a stranger to him and for no other reason– but he know for sure that they did, from how they squint their eyes at Jisung and offer him a teasing smile.

“Oh, and this is Y/N,” his aunt says, nudging the person closer to his nephew, as if to present a thing meant to solve all of his problems, “their child. They are staying for the summer, so I expect you two to hang out often, since you’re the same age and all!”

Looking at his aunt, a dead look mirroring his eyes, he hears the person– you– with a voice sweet but a little prickly, just like the smell of a Christmas tree his family used to have in their living room during December, ask a question that is easily able to beat him down to the ground in one second, despite not really knowing you long enough to be this affected by a single strand of words plastered together.

“Does this mean we have to be friends?” you say, eyeing his aunt. Jisung doesn't know if you two have met before, because he himself hasn’t been around his aunt this often, but the familiarity in your eyes tells him that this shouldn’t be your first time being around his aunt. He has no way of proving it, and since he doesn't care enough to ask, he may never actually know.

“That’s- that’s not what I was hinting at, but I’m sure you two would make good friends!” his aunt chirps, making him suddenly wonder if her friends even agreed on letting their child spend time with a boy they just saw for the first time, sleeping on the floor of his aunt’s living room. He doesn’t think his aunt actually cares about their opinion, though. He thinks she just desperately wants him out of the house sometimes. Truth be told, he doesn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault that he had to suddenly waddle into her house, eat her food and sleep in the spare bedroom for the summer– if he was in his aunt’s shoes, he’d want his comfort back as well. She didn’t ask for this. And he doesn’t even know why she agreed in the first place. “You are quite similar and have a lot in common, is what I meant,” his aunt finishes, and Jisung cringes under her gaze, because in reality, how could she even know?

A sigh escapes your lips, eyes rolling as you look over at your parents and snicker. “Am I at least getting paid for hanging out with this loser?”

“Y/N, watch your mouth!” your mother snaps, an apologetic look in her eyes.

Truth is, though, the comment doesn’t affect him. At least not in the way it should– it doesn’t offend him, it doesn’t hurt. Instead, he grins, looking you dead in the eyes, already liking the foreign excitement in his bones that dares to make his life feel much more lively than it has while he was locked up in the spare bedroom of his aunt’s house.

“I’m Park Jisung.”

Your lips widen into a cheshire grin, Jisung’s surroundings suddenly disappearing into thin air, the adults in their own universe now, not heard of and not seen. Staring you into your eyes for a heartbeat, another few words escape his mouth as a premise, unknowingly setting the tone for the two of you already.

“Let’s hang out. Show me around. If I have fun, you get a tenner. If it sucks, you’re not getting paid for being friends with me. Deal?”

He doesn’t know if it was the money on the line, or if you saw something in him that interested you enough to keep on giving in. And after all this time, he doesn't think he’ll get an answer– it’s too far out of his reach, too far back in history. But somehow, in that moment, you took his hand and shook it, starting off something that made Park Jisung who he is today. The contact of your hand with his felt like electricity to the boy, the sudden courage disappearing right as he feels the softness of your palm, and when your eyes lock, he physically feels his knees buckle under him– that’s the effect you have on the boy.

Your roles are soon reversed when you’re brought back into reality by an adult’s voice, your hands losing contact as you break away, looking at your mother with a glare in your eyes.

“Look, Ms Park has a piano! Go and play something for us, sweetie.”

A pained sigh escapes your lips, seemingly already knowing you won’t get out of this no matter how hard you try or plead, slowly walking over to the instrument settled in the corner of the room, cracking your knuckles and humming to yourself, thinking of what song to play.

“Jisung plays too, actually!” his aunt chimes in, and he sighs, halting in his movements,

because one, he can’t play the piano, and two, the song rolling off your fingers is so beautiful, so melodic he secretly starts to hope that he did.

Park Jisung can’t believe himself in the very moment when he’s standing at the rocky beach with you, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck every few seconds in a poor attempt of calming down his nerves and the erracting beating of his heart. He’s only 18 and has no experience with girls, so he thinks this is the sheer effect of the fact that he can’t swim well and he’s afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you– he bets you’re not strong enough to bring out his drowning body out of the depths of the lake anyways, so it really must be fear that’s holding him down from undressing in front of you and jumping into the refreshing water.

“Come on, Park Jisung, what are you waiting for?” you jab at him, a sharp finger pointing straight to his ribs. Your top is already off, a peach-colored bikini top catching Jisung’s attention that he instantly averts and focuses on the shiny water instead, worried he’d get caught if his eyes lingered a bit more. Again, Park Jisung is only 18 and he barely leaves the house– the only girl in a bikini he’s ever seen were the actors in the movies he watched on TV or the characters in the anime he once binged watched in the middle of the night, and those curves were drawn-on, on top of that. He doesn’t know what to do around a girl, and holding a conversation is suddenly that harder when his eyes keep drifting towards your body.

“I- I can’t really swim,” he mumbles out, another set of scratching his neck taking place, the slowly burning skin on the sharp sun making him shift in discomfort.

“Fuck’s sake,” a curse escapes your mouth, the word catching the poor boy off-guard even more, since he’s not used to anyone speaking in that tone around him– with the exception of his parents when they argue, of course, but he’d rather not bring up the memory– and his big eyes scan you again, surprised and almost a little worried of your next actions, “well, I’m not getting 10 pounds this way, am I? Didn’t know the uptown boy can’t swim…” you mutter under your breath before you shake your head in disbelief and shrug off your shorts, throwing the clothing towards the beach towel sprawled out on the shore.

Now, Jisung tries really really hard not to look at your bum. That would be really embarrassing– truly humiliating– and he’s a gentleman, of course. And it doesn’t make it better that the whole journey here, you were rambling about your day and about how bored you are in this little village, and he found the scrunch of your nose so adorable, because now he has the crushing reality dawning up on him that he’s 18 and finally having a sexual awakening. No, he won’t stare at your body. He’s simply not allowed.

“What are you waiting for? Are you gonna go into the water in your clothes?” you ask again, looking him up and down when he doesn’t move.

“Oh, I was just thinking I could… you know, stay here and hang out by myself until you’re done swimming, or something…” he says, and the more words that spill out of his mouth, the more embarrassed he feels, because your gaze suddenly locks with his and you seem so amused by his rambling, you find his words so hilarious, he doesn’t miss a heartbeat before he sighs more-so to himself and takes off his shirt, clearing his throat awkwardly when he finds you staring at his naked skin.

“Glad you got the memo,” you muster up, shaking your head in disbelief and tying your hair up into a neat bun. “I swear it’s not that deep from the corners, you’re not gonna drown. Your aunt would kick my head off if I left you here to fry,” you mumble and Jisung hates how it sounds like you’re truly only here because you have to, because the more seconds he spends staring into your eyes trying to predict your next move, the more he wishes you were here because you were only slightly interested in spending time with the new kid in the village– him.

“Alright,” he mumbles, and when he’s finally only in his swimming suit, taking cautious steps and following you towards the water, he finds his anxiety levels rising, because the truth is, he’s never swam in a lake before. Sure, he’s been in pools– but those aren’t so scary. He can almost always feel the bottom of it under his feet and he knows they don’t get as deep. Surely, there is a little to no possibility of him drowning in a swimming pool. Lakes, however, are a different thing. He can’t reach the bottom, and if he does, the surface is disgusting and slippery and won’t help him to his feet– if he really got too stiff and panicked, he could die. And that’s perhaps what scares him the most as he takes the first step on the slick rock at the very edge of the water, the slight stumble of his feet only making him more aware of the reality that’s in front of him.

“You’re such a scaredy cat,” you tease him when you look at him from behind your shoulder, a grin on your face acting like a sucker punch towards Jisung’s gut. And the truth is, he’d be more relaxed if you just gave him a minute– to collect his thoughts, calm his erracting heartbeat as he’d tell himself that there’s nothing to worry about and that the water here truly isn’t as deep yet and the worst thing that could happen is that he lands on his ass, but you don’t give him a chance to do so as your hand slips into his– trying to steady him, as you walk deeper into the water.

Your soft hand in his, fingers intertwined, he finds himself holding on to you like a lifeline– because in his tragic imagination, you might as well be one– and the beating of his heart only gets faster when he gets painfully aware of the sweat pooling in the palms of his hand and the very apparent hesitance in his step. If you notice it, you don’t mention it– to which Jisung’s equal parts surprised and glad, and suddenly, his figure is waist-level in the water before he even has a chance to register it and your hand lets go of his, the momentarily hypnotization of your hold escaping him when he has to face you as he stands still in the cool liquid.

You’re staring at him with a flashy smile, expecting eyes waiting for him to react to you in any way– and when nothing comes, you must realize that he’s too starstrucked by your appearance to muster up anything coherent enough.

“You alright there?”

He finds himself nodding, a hum escaping his throat to accompany his response. It’s not enough for you, though, and the truth is, Park Jisung should’ve been prepared for this, since even the two days of knowing you must be enough to get to know the true intentions of your actions– because you tease him again, and even though the boy gets sulky easily, he doesn’t seem to find himself paying it much mind.

“A cat got your tongue?” you snicker, shaking your head at him.

For a second, Jisung debates on acting dumb– maybe more silence or a shrug of his shoulders would rile you up more, get you more annoyed– but he should’ve learned already that you’re always one step ahead of him, in more cases than one, when a splash of cold water hits his heated skin, making him hiss in shock.

Your laughter fills his ears as he watches you stand still in front of him, presumably not expecting much threat from the boy that’s barely able to move in the lake, but the angelic look on your face acts like a dopamine kick for the boy, vitamin D flowing through his veins as he reacts to your teasing with another splash of water, feet delicately chasing you around the lake, screeches coming out your throat like music to his ears on the sunny summer afternoon.

The water fight ends with him tripping over a stone as he tries to run away from you, and the shock on your face is evident– Jisung finds himself feeling endearment at the hint of you worrying about him– when you rush towards the boy and lean over his body sitting in the water, Jisung’s worst-case scenario coming to life right in front of your eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask, a hand offered to him to get him back up on his feet.

And Jisung takes it, only to tug you down towards him, his body shielding you from the impact, but still hitting the ice-cold water of the lake. With your face only centimeters away from his, your annoyed, yet amused face causing him to grin, he finds himself laughing at your next remark.

“I take it as today’s worthy of a tenner then, Park Jisung. Having too much fun, aren’t you?”

To Park Jisung, summer feels like sleep and the humid air in his little room back home. He’s never really been anywhere on vacations or holidays, because frankly, with his father’s nature and his mother’s low income job, there wasn’t really much space to go somewhere and explore what it’s like to enjoy the summer heat instead of constantly angrily swearing at the weather. For that matter, Park Jisung never really enjoyed summer. He was always locked up in that small room, sometimes listening to his parents’ arguing– which he so desperately tried to ignore every time, but his heart did that weird hammering each time his father broke a glass or his mother raised her voice a bit louder than usual– and when his parents weren’t arguing, the house would be too quiet, making him overthink.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons and boredom. He doesn’t know any better, and he would even pity himself, but the truth is, he thinks that’s embarrassing. People have it worse, after all– he’s just a teenager with no life purpose. Just like any other, right?

So when Jisung arrives at his aunt’s place for the summer– no longer having to listen to his parents’ arguing, because after 18 years of his life, they finally decided to call it quits and drag their son to the only relative he vaguely knows for the time being, until they figure everything out– he expects nothing more from the old house than what he experienced his whole growing up. He expects overslept afternoons and sweaty pajamas clinging to his back, humid air everywhere and the weird hollowness in the pit of his stomach.

To his surprise– and believe me, he didn’t really expect this at all– the summer before university is completely different, and he’s pleased with the change.

He wakes up late one afternoon, because he doesn’t expect anything exciting to happen in the time he spends asleep anyway, and when he drags his feet to the kitchen, body tense and hurting from the weird positions he found himself sleeping in, his mind is instantly sweeped of all the haziness when he founds your figure in his aunt’s house, laughing at the radio host babbling through the device.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his aunt greets him from the corner of the room, and he’s suddenly too aware of his bed hair and the fact that his clothing is all wrinkled and his face is puffy, because he feels your eyes on him and he hates to know that you see him in such state. Not that he’s any eye candy any other day, of course– he just thinks you could’ve seen him in a more presentable light, that’s all.

“G’morning,” he mutters as he scratches the back of his neck and looks around the room, trying to grasp the events of 1PM– barely morning anymore.

“If you woke up earlier, you could’ve gone with us,” his aunt chirps in from the stove, swirling something sweet-smelling in a big pot. Her face is fawned over with a glaze of sweat and even the wide-open window does nothing to get the air to clear out– Jisung thinks that’s just the magic of summer. It’s always too hot, and the only thing you can do is complain.

“Where did you go?”

“To the forest,” you smile at him, seeing as he takes a few hesitant steps towards your figure, “we picked berries and now your aunt’s making jam. A classic village-like summer activity, don’t ya think?” you chirp, tugging your hair behind your ear as you pick through the big bowl and put away the berries that don’t look as good, choosing to not include them in the jam.

Jisung hums in agreement, still a little confused, as he takes another few steps around the room. Looking over his aunt’s shoulder, he sees the blood colored liquid boiling at the stove, the air even sweeter right above the steam, and he suddenly wonders if this is today’s activity. Looking over his shoulder at you, dressed in shorts and a tank top, he shrugs to himself– if it means that you’ll be over at his house the whole time the jam’s being made, he doesn’t mind helping out in the kitchen.

“Can you wash these?” you ask, pointing towards the bowl full of berries. He nods to your order and takes it over to the sink, carefully splashing water over the fruit and making sure each piece is clean– he doesn’ want to embarrass himself in front of you. Frankly, he doesn’t know what’s going on or how exactly jam is made, but you seem like you’re a regular in those activities– he doesn’t want you to think he’s a city guy with no knowledge of how the world works. Because that’s kind of true, but you don’t have to know that.

Bringing the bowl over to the table again, he watches as you look up at him from the next bowl you’re currently sorting through, raising your brows in question at his stare. The boy almost wants to look away from being caught, but he figures it’s too late anyway, so he challenges you and waits for you to jab at him or roll your eyes.

Instead, you pick up one berry from the bowl and press it up against his lips, an innocent smile playing with your features as you wait for him to eat it, looking at him with expecting eyes.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely magical,” Jisung replies, overly-exaggerated, seeing you grin. He steals himself another berry from the bowl, escaping from the playful slap you want to give to the palm of his hand, before he sits on the chair opposite of yours, silently watching you doing your task.

“Now, today’s events might not be as exciting, so you can save your next 10 pounds, but once your aunt’s hands get tired, you can take over and stir the jam while it cooks,” you explain, teasing him with your little inside joke– you’re not actually getting paid for hanging out with him. Not really, although Jisung did buy you ice cream on your way home from the lake the other day. So in a way, you are. Just not with real money.

“So fun!” he says, watching you as you roll your eyes.

The truth is, he doesn’t care much about what he does during the day. As long as you’re present, he’s satisfied.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons, his little humid room back home and boredom. This afternoon, the smell of berries, the sound of the radio and your bubbly laugh when you tease him joins the mix– and he thinks those overpower the grudge he has against the season with such measures he prays every day feels like summer from now on.

The room is kind of chilly when Jisung rests his back against the tall bookshelf– the side of the furniture, so the shelves aren’t uncomfortable against his back– eyes glued to the pages of the book. He finds himself too immersed in the story to notice anyone coming into his aunt’s living room, too occupied with the sentences to hear the shuffling of your feet as you drag your legs across the house. His aunt always lets you in with no questions– you only knock on the door and smile at her when she opens it, slickly jumping inside and finding who you’re looking for in one of the few rooms of the house– more often than not, you catch Park Jisung off guard, but he is starting to get used to the euphoric surprise.

Jisung is an avid reader. He’s liked books since he was little, and it was the only thing he found himself spending money on growing up. When the amount of books he could read in one month became too big for him to keep buying more and more prints, his mother took him to the town to get him his own library card.

After looking through the bookshelf in his aunt’s house, he was surprised– and a little annoyed– at the fact that there were only romance books in store. He already finished the copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy he brought with himself when his parents sent him off, and he didn’t really think of bringing more. Finding his aunt’s bookshelf was like finding a treasure, only if the contents weren’t so disappointing. Still, a romance book is better than no book, he thinks, as he picks a familiar one up and sits on the floor, immersing himself into the story.

“What are you reading?” he suddenly hears, head snapping up to see you watching him from above, eyes skimming through the words.

“A book,” he responds, voice low, before his eyes are back on the pages.

“I can see that, genius,” you snicker, situating yourself next to him and resting your back against the bookshelf, “what book is it?” you pry more, and even though you are almost always the main object of Park Jisung’s attention and thoughts, this time, you are set to the second place as he continues to read the novel.

You are rewarded with silence, a thing that makes your brows furrow and a sigh escape your lips. You’re not used to this kind of treatment, it seems, and when the interested teenager doesn’t give you his time of the day, you have no other choice but to ask for it yourself, no matter how embarrassing it might feel. You’re okay with biting it down– you know he won’t try to tease you about it anyways.

“Jisung, give me attention,” you simply say, jabbing your finger to his thigh.

“I’m reading.”

“I came to visit you!” you act offended, an over-exaggerated sigh escaping your lips.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Jisung mumbles, still reading through the pages, although his focus is now a little thrown-off.

Giving yourself a few seconds to think, chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. “Okay, then. Read it out loud, so I’m entertained too.”

“It’s the middle of the book, Y/N–”

“Come on, I read The great Gatsby before anyway,” you say as you nestle a little in your place, resting your back flush against the shelf again, “read for me so we don’t sit in silence,” you order.

Jisung spares you a glance, a second of eye contact enough for him to be convinced, huffing before he averts his eyes back to the book and clears his throat, reading aloud.

He doesn’t like to be the center of attention. He doesn’t like it when everyone’s eyes are on him and he feels them watching, he absolutely despises the fact that he’s the only thing you’re focused on as he reads through the words and his voice shakes a little at each passage. He feels his face heartening and sweat slowly forming on his forehead, each of his fingertips tingling with the fact that he’s the only thing you’re paying attention to right now, your only object of interest.

“He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete,” he reads, and when he feels your head resting on his shoulder, your soft hair tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, he almost jumps out of his own skin and crawls under the ground, because somewhere along the way, he admits in shame, in his imagination, you turned into the main character.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl you popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea from his aunt, Park Jisung no longer wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He listens deeply to the music– the loud guitars and the ringing of the drums, so dearly reminding him of the beating of his own heart that involuntarily matches the song somewhere between the verse and the chorus– and when you slip back inside, carrying a tray with two mugs in the very middle, Jisung’s eyes unconsciously watch you as you walk through the space. It’s a weird parallel that makes him snicker.

“Why are you just laying here?” you nudge him with your leg, his figure limp on the floor. “We didn’t come here to lay around, little boy.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” he hums as he nods, looking at you from below, the curves of your face and the glow on the tips of your cheekbones making his heartbeat stummer for just a beat, an excited glint in his stomach making itself known when you grin at him and your eyes bear into his with an uncertain feeling of mischief and playfulness.

“Are you mentally preparing, or something?”

“Something like that,” he admits, sighing to himself when you offer him a hand and beg him to stand up with your eyes, your skin soft under his touch when he hosts himself up and stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

You stand in front of him, stiff, for only a few seconds. The eye contact you share makes Jisung feel electrified, but he doesn’t find himself averting his gaze– he’s too scared that you’d find him cowardly, or too shy to meet your glances. And even though it might be true and your whole existence is of exciting importance to the boy, he doesn’t want to show it to you so bluntly, so he chooses to bury those hints and stand his ground, waiting for you to look away first. He didn’t expect you to take it as a challenge– but when his still body annoys you a bit too much, he earns himself a bump to his shoulder, the contact of your tightened fist making him break into a victorious grin.

“Move!”

Jisung takes a step to his left, seeing as you roll your eyes at his teasing manner– normally you’re the one taking the lead in playful banter, but he’s feeling bold today, energized with whatever spirit– and you notice, hating the way he has the upper hand over you for once, deciding to once again take the matters to your own hands and lead him through the situation, grabbing him by his hand and strongly pulling him towards either side of the room, rolling your hips in your place and jumping around, laughing when he doesn’t seem to obey your strategy.

“Jisung-ah! You promised,” you pout, the soft demand in your tone making the boy sigh in defeat and roll his eyes at you, because if you’re good at something, it’s using your words and taking advantage of his weakness for you. And so he does what you want him to, finally holding you more firmly when his hands miraculously find your waist and he dances with you to the rock music– jumping around and twirling the two of you in the middle of the room, because there aren’t many dance moves you can do to this kind of music unless you’re really skilled– and there it is, the wide grin settling onto your face, like a sweet, sweet reward to the boy.

Because even though you really wanted to have fun with Jisung– to get the promised tenner, you said– your mum didn’t let you go to the party in town, no matter how hard you pleaded and tried to reason with her that Jisung’s gonna be there with you to protect you. His aunt knew better than to believe the claim– if there’s someone needing protection, it’s her nephew, and being the one that’s supposed to do the job might be too much pressure for the poor boy.

And when you pouted and mourned about the fact while breaking the news to Jisung yesterday afternoon, he found himself promising you that you can have your own party at his house, dancing around and having even more fun listening to his aunt’s outdated records and drinking chamomile tea that’s surely better than whatever alcohol they are serving in the town.

He’s not a good dancer. The music is not his cup of tea. But hearing your laughter piercing through his eardrums whenever he dips you down or does a silly dance solo just to impress you with his playfulness, he finds himself being content.

He hasn’t laughed this hard in a long while. He says it’s because of your outrageous ideas.

Deep inside, though, he knows it’s because of your sole presence.

“You already finished The Great Gatsby?” you ask, your soft voice cutting through the solemn wind. Jisung glances up at you from his spot next to your figure, the two of you sitting under the tree behind his house, silence enveloping you two like a blanket, only disturbed by the chirping of birds and cicadas in the distance.

He nods. “I’m a fast reader,” he snickers.

“You must have liked the book,” you mumble, your head falling to his shoulder as you nestle in your place a little, the book in your lap still open as you engage in the conversation with him. You’re wearing a summer dress, your bruised knees on full display, and something about the air smelling like strawberries makes him think and wonder of the fact that this feels a little too much like a date, but he’s too afraid to let the thought ring out loud.

“Not really,” he states, “I don’t like romance novels.”

“You don’t?” you ask, the statement taking you off guard.

“No.”

“Why?”

“They’re not realistic,” he mutters under his nose.

“You don’t believe in love?” you ask, your eyes locking with his in a curious manner. The more he bears his eyes into yours, the more he watches as the glimmers in your orbs swim around and hypnotize him, the more he wishes he could say yes, the more he yearns to tell you that he does, he always has and he always will believe in love, but smiling to himself, more out of despair than out of anything, he shakes his head in disapproval and sees the shadow casting over your face, breaking him.

“Why?” you ask, the tone of your voice almost hurt, as if it was a question of life and death.

“Because… it doesn’t seem real. It’s all an illusion, a chemical reaction, even, it’s- it’s not forever, you know? It messes with your brain and makes you feel dizzy for a while, and then after a while, you realize you don’t feel the same anymore and it was all just a lack of judgment. I don’t think love exists,” he says, “or at least, I don’t think it can last.”

Your eyes watch him with a newly found sense, something in your brain turning fast as you chew on the inside of your cheek, and he can see it in your eyes– you want to disagree with him, you want to tell him that he’s stupid and silly and he doesn’t know anything, he’s just too burdened with what’s going on in his life and that he judges everything by the image of love that was fed to him by his parents; the love that didn’t last, the love that didn’t exist– but you don’t say anything along those lines, maybe in a quiet understanding, knowing it won’t change his mind, knowing it’s not your place to tell him otherwise.

Instead, you only bear your eyes back into the pages of your book and sigh. “I disagree. Because, Jisung, tell me,” you say, sighing before you continue, “how could it not be real, when everyone writes about it? When everyone sings about it, yearns for it and so desperately wants it? How could it not last when this book is older than any of us, yet it’s still considered one of the most trivial parts of romance?”

He watches you from above, the crown of your head now in his point of view when he listens to your voice. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” you read, “isn’t that beautiful, Jisung? Isn’t that love? Don’t tell me it’s all an illusion.”

Your eyes don’t meet his when you speak those words. Not able to focus back on his own reading, he becomes painfully aware of your head on his shoulder again, the soft tickling of your hair against his neck– and he finds himself thinking that if love is an illusion, a chemical reaction, a lack of judgment, even– if love doesn’t last, if it’s all just a drunkenness that makes him dizzy, he doesn’t mind.

At the end of the day, what matters might just be the present moment. And if this doesn’t last, he’s content with how he’s feeling for you now– even though it might fizzle out, he’s grateful for the things you’ve taught him.

Park Jisung’s summer is filled with him staring at you in your summer dress, with him watching you when you ramble on and on about something that makes barely any sense in his brain, with you dancing around the room and playing the piano in his aunt’s living room, the melodies sometimes lullying him to dreams filled with your scent and your voice calling from him when he wakes from his slumber.

Your face is the image that fills his brain when he thinks of sunny days, and somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to conceal the subtle infatuation he has over you, for you no longer tease him for his gentle stares and allow him to admire you in silence.

Today, much like all other days, he finds himself in your company. Sitting in the meadow, side by side– you convinced him he’d like the sight, but he finds himself watching you smile instead– the smell of strawberries fills his nose when you take out your lip balm and put it on, your soft lips suddenly glistening with the moisture, a pinkish tint like a subtle overlay over your smile. Indulged into the motion, Jisung can’t seem to look away, and he could play it off as him so desperately wanting to know if the lip balm tastes as delicious as it smells, but suddenly, all he can think about it how he wants to kiss you and how if he doesn’t look away soon, he won’t be able to control the urge.

But Jisung’s always been too weak when it comes to you. Eyes glued to your lips, still talking about philosophical themes the boy could never wrap his mind around, never in a million years, the stream of words is suddenly cut off your lips when he presses his against them, tasting the sweetness off your skin. And his suspicions were correct– the lip balm is as tasty as it smells, yet, even better than he could expect, tasting more of strawberries dipped in honey– but in his mind, the sweetness you and not the lip balm, and when your palm meets his cheek and holds him in place, he feels close to falling apart right in your hold, a fragile pot full of love and affection for you only, eyes pressed shut from nerves.

He doesn’t think he’s a good kisser. It’s his first time and he never really thought about the action before– never had the opportunity or the right person to prompt the thought into his head. He tries hard to ignore the thought of him being bad at the action, because he doesn’t want to ruin this memory for himself, and as you pull away for a heartbeat and then press yourself into him once more, he finds himself forgetting the time, space and the whole universe– there’s only you, you, you.

And he could lie to himself and convince himself that he kissed you just to taste the strawberries on his tongue, but it’s far from the simple reality– he kissed you just to kiss you.

Not thinking of the future this holds to him, not thinking of the fact that one day, you’ll have to say goodbye. Not thinking of much more, not expecting any difference in your dynamic. Deep down, he doesn’t even really want things to change– he likes the stillness, the security it holds. He kissed you just to kiss you– it was that simple. The desire was too strong to hold back. It was gentle, it was sweetness, and he found himself wondering how come it took him such a while.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room with you, listening to the silence ringing in his ears and making his brain wander, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, too enchanted with your presence to realize the weight of the situation, too immersed in the blissful unknowingness than paying attention to the stresses that even brought him to his aunt’s house in the first place, but his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to his thoughts, letting the fear swallow him. He once again wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him– it’s a familiar tale now, but he’s never really quite reached the end.

“What are you thinking about?” your voice breaks him out of the tense slumber, his eyes growing wide as he snaps his head to watch you next to him, your orbs filled with tender care and worry. The outside world is slowly turning into a little less vibrant one, the summer nights growing colder with the undeniable fact of the season ending soon, autumn taking its place and Park Jisung’s own departure slowly burning at the tips of his toes.

He doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s inevitable. Maybe he should pay it more mind.

“Home,” he mumbles, squinting his eyes as he turns his head back straight and watches the spiderwebs in the corner, the weight of his words making the atmosphere thicker. “It’s not gonna be the same,” he adds, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

The silence doesn’t go away as your hand envelopes his, your fingers playing with his in a calming manner, yet still having a playful aura to it as you tug on the joints of his fingers and wave them around in the air, eyes focused on the way his palm fits into yours. “Isn’t that a good thing?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

And it’s true. He doesn’t know– fights and anger and bad temper is all he’s ever known, all he’s ever been used to. The silent treatment and the petty arguments are what raised him, and now that it’s gone, he wonders if it’s gonna make him feel better. The truth is, sometimes, feeling like this can feel essential. It feels safe to be so miserable, for when the bright times of him and his parents being okay and getting along happened, he’s always felt unsure, like the storm was about to happen each time; like he couldn’t be happy for long, because it felt uncomfortably unsafe, having the hunch that it’s gonna get bad again any time. Feeling numb was safe. It couldn’t get worse than that– it’s what made him comfortable with his sadness.

And if it’s true that it’s gonna be better now, just because his parents are gonna be separated and they’re not gonna be in contact, is it really okay for him to feel happy about that? Is it really the end? The calm after the storm of his childhood and growing up? And is it okay to feel secure in loneliness? To feel okay with seeing his mother wither away and his dad turning to alcohol every time he visits him in his new house? Because he can picture it now– he sees it clear as day, that this is how the situation’s gonna end up, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you mumble, a poor attempt at soothing the boy.

He finds it hard to believe you. Sometimes he thinks you know everything– you’ve seen so much and taught him so much and told him so much about the world. But can you really know anything about a situation you’ve never encountered?

Still, his hopeless heart swells at your words, the comfort of your hand in his guarding him to reality. He thinks he made you up sometimes– he longed for something to comfort him so hard and for so long that the longing grew legs and followed him around, brightened up his withering days.

“I’m scared to come home,” he whispers, the tone barely audible in the so still room. He’s scared of what he’ll find. Sometimes he thinks he’s scared of the silence, for he was brought up in violent screams and doors always left a bit open– just in case. Is it going to be fine for him to find peace after the violence?

You lean up and watch the boy with eyes bigger than the whole universe, a soft smile playing with your features when your fingers trail the curve of his cheek. Jisung watches your lips and dreams of them on his, but there’s no use when you only trace the arch of his cupid's bone with the pad of your thumb, voice barely louder than a whisper, as if confiding him in a secret. “You’re gonna be okay.”

And with that, you’re gone. Like a dream. Your touch fades and your scent is forcefully dragged away from his nose.

After a few seconds, you play the piano for him again. He recognizes the song to be the same one you played on the first day you two met– and he wonders if it’s your favorite, or if you just don’t know how to play anything as well. The melody is often slow, romantic and idyllic, but builds into an intense complexity. Towards the end, the initial melody returns, bringing a sense of resolution and tranquility. He doesn’t know the name of the song– he’s never heard of it before meeting you– but in his soul, the feelings of love, longing and enchantment remain as he listens to the harmonies and passionate melody.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and feels a stray tear rolling down his cheek. The air smells of autumn when the breeze flows into the room through the open window, making the hairs on his arm stand up in attention, and his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what will happen if you left the room right now. If he’ll ever find you, wherever you are.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and lets himself fall into a soft slumber, the same way he did the first time you walked through the door to his life. During the sleep, he dreams of love.

Park Jisung opens his eyes on the last day of summer and feels coldness seeping into his bones. It’s not cold yet, the season hasn’t even ended, but there’s something about the aura of the morning that makes him crawl in his own skin and dread the day in front of him. After today, he’s supposed to come back home– he’s going to leave everything the summer taught him behind, in this little village, with his aunt he’s grown to adore more than he initially thought he could. It’s kind of depressing, if you really think about it, but Jisung would rather not think at all.

He sits up on the bed, burrowing his head into his palms and huffs heavily at the thoughts running through his brain. He’s not a morning person, sure, but he thinks perhaps his sudden mood change is the result of something completely else– something he doesn’t yet know and can’t quite put his finger on, can’t quite name.

Standing up and walking out of his room, naked feet in contact with the hardwood floor, the clique of the door feels unusually cold against his hand when he reaches for it, opening it and getting ready to face the day. He hasn’t said goodbye to you yet, but he knows he’ll have to today. It’s the last opportunity before he walks out of summer break for real, the last opportunity to see your smile and to hold you in his arms like he always yearned for whenever you were in his close proximity.

Yet, as he gets ready to take the first step out of the room, his feet come to contact with something sharp, a block-like object waiting for him outside of the door. Squinting below his toes, he finds a book on the hard tiles, picking it up and moving it closer up towards his nose. Reading over the title and the author’s name, his heart drops to his stomach, an unreasonable feeling of fear settling in his fingertips as he turns the page and reads through the contents, something scribbled on the first, worn-out page of the book catching his attention.

To my Jisung. Think of me when you read through the pages. You said you didn’t like romance novels, but I know you’re secretly a sucker for them. Always in your heart, Y/N.

A kiss mark in bright red is settled below the inscription, the lipstick stain he rarely ever seen you wear does nothing else than makes his heartbeat quicken and his fear intensify. He doesn’t have it confirmed yet, but in the depths of his mind and soul, he already knows– he knows it’s too late and you didn’t say goodbye before you left.

Still, his feet act before his brain does, his blurry vision ignored when he runs out of his aunt’s house and makes a jog towards the one you were staying at through the summer break. He puts on the first pair of shoes he finds at the doorstep and takes off, his aunt’s concerned yells ignored as he clutches the book to his chest, something about the beaten edges reminding him of the fact that it’s the one you always read in the shade under the single tree in the whole meadow, and it’s confirmed when he gets to your house– your parents’ car nowhere in sight, the windows shut and everything so intensely lonely.

And that’s when he allows himself to break– to fold at the grass in front of your house, to open the book and randomly find the sentence you quoted to him once, breaking his heart into a million different shatters. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” he reads, and when his eyes trail over the next pages, he sees each one annotated, words scribbled on the sides of the pages, pretty quotes underlined. You left a piece of you with him, for him to keep, and he should feel lucky, for he has something to remember you by even though you’re long gone, but he just can’t get past the melody you played on the piano replaying over and over in his brain, reminding him that

you left without a goodbye and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he moves back home and you’re not going to be there, and oh how badly he wishes you kissed him for the last time yesterday, for he can’t remember how your lips felt against his anymore and he fears he may never feel the way he did when he was kissed by you ever again.

Rustling through the book, there’s a lone sheet of paper tucked behind the last page. Slowly walking home, head hung low, his eyes scanning the music sheet, the title of the song sits unfamiliar on his tongue when he repeats it under his breath like a broken mantra made to bring you back.

He promises himself to learn how to play it on the piano one day, just so he could hear it again. There’s an inkling feeling in him that the song might be important.

Wobbling through the classroom, happy that the bell finally rang and he can go home, Park Jisung hears his name called from the mouth of his Creative writing professor, much to his dismay, making him stop in his tracks and follow his voice with a low sigh. It’s Friday and it’s raining outside, meaning that if he won’t catch the last tram home, he’ll have to run through the rain without an umbrella, and that really wasn’t on his checklist for the week.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he hates this class or his Creative writing professor in the slightest. It’s quite the opposite, really– this class serves good to his vivid imagination and the daydreaming he practices every night before sleeping and sometimes even when he takes a long shower. His professor is nice as well– young enough to understand the minds that are filling the classroom, only getting his master’s degree recently– but still mature enough to lead the class in a way that makes everyone respect him in a healthy way. But today, on a rainy, gray Friday, after the last class of the week, Jisung really doesn’t feel like talking to Mr Kim in the slightest.

“Did you want to talk to me about something?” Jisung asks as soon as the classroom empties itself out and he is standing face to face with his professor. The man nods, taking his glasses off and putting them onto his desk, quickly turning around to his student again and only starting to talk once he makes sure the classroom is completely empty, just to stay confidential.

“Yes, I did,” he says. Humming under his breath as he turns around again, he searches through the papers sitting on the desk, seemingly looking for the ones that belong to Jisung, and clears his breath as he faces the boy again and furrows his brows at the writing on the paper.

“Is something wrong?” Jisung asks, full of concern. The truth is that the Creative writing class is one of the only classes that maintain his grades below the lowest level– the one that gets you kicked out of the university– and the face his professor’s currently making is surely not a one that seeps of satisfaction. It’s only natural for Jisung to feel worried, because with how badly he’s doing in Physics, he surely can’t afford to get a bad grade even in a class that’s supposed to come easily to him.

“No, no,” Mr Kim shakes his head in a hurry to quickly calm his student down, “it’s just…” trailing off, his eyes swiftly moving across the letters Jisung finished writing a few weeks ago, just a day before handing the first part of his assignment in, reading the first few lines over one more time. Jisung finds himself feeling irritated and frustrated, for his professor should be the one that’s good with words, but in this situation, he feels like he’s not telling him anything.

“What is it, then?” he asks, diving straight in. If he gets it out of him now, he might even catch the last tram, as long as he runs to the tram stop…

“Look, Jisung. What I’m going to tell you now might not make you happy, but I think it’s crucial for you,” he says, looking kindly, yet still firmly at the boy, “your writing… I like it. Quite honestly, I find it phenomenal. You have a way with words that just… when you explain feelings, you go into depths and details, and I find that really interesting from a boy like you.”

Jisung doesn’t know what the premise of his words are, and the sudden praise catches him off-guard, since he thought he’s going to get scolded. Furrowing his brows and muttering low words of appreciation, his professor continues with his little ment, finally clarifying his intentions. “But I have an issue with this,” he says, pointing to the papers in his hands, meeting eyes with Jisung again, “it’s not that it’s bad. Not at all, I said what I said, I really find your writing the best in this class. However, I think it lacks something.”

Stepping from one foot to the other, Jisung chews on the inside of his cheek, confused. “And what does it lack, sir?”

“Emotion,” he deadpans, looking straight into his eyes. The words surprise him, making him furrow his brows at the explanation, mumbling in confusion.

“But… but you just said I describe emotions well?”

“That’s true, Jisung, however… Your works are full of emotion, but I don’t think those emotions are yours. You’re describing something you don’t feel, something you don’t understand, and that makes me feel like you’re trying to sell me something you’re constantly having to make yourself believe is real,” Mr Kim answers, switching his tone into a more considerate one, “I like your imagination, I like the plot, however, this all means that your writing lacks any real depth.”

Jisung gasps at the harsh words, the reality of them making him sink a little in his place. “I thought a lot about the plot and the intentions of the characters, I really don’t know what I did wrong–”

“If this was any other student in this classroom that handed in this work, I’d praise them for outdoing themselves. It’s good. It’s almost perfect, I’d say, and I mean that. But when it comes to you, Jisung…” he trails off again, trying to find the right words, “I think you can do better. I know you can do better, only if you actually cared a bit about the things you write. Did you enjoy writing this? Did you like this work?”

“I… I did- I think I do?” he stammers, answer sounding almost like a question,

Mr Kim stares at him for a while, almost as if he’s trying to make the boy realize the lies he’s telling from his own mouth right now, but when it doesn’t come, he just sighs and offers him the papers, watching the boy take them into his hold and stare at him, completely oblivious.

“Jisung, you’re writing like you have to do it. It doesn’t mean anything to you. At least this story doesn’t. And you know, I can see it in your words, it’s- you’re describing everything so deeply and so beautifully, but at the end of the day, you don’t like or care for anything you write, and that’s why it feels extraordinarily empty,” he says, watching the boys eyes widen and his lips form into a pout, nodding softly at his professor’s words.

“Does that mean… I’m gonna get a bad grade on my final assignment?” Jisung asks, lost.

Sighing, Mr Kim shakes his head and gazes at his student with eyes like an endless pool of honesty. “I want you to hand in something else. Don’t worry about getting in the deadlines, I’ll wait for you and grade this at the end of the semester. All I want is for you to write a story that means something to you. Don’t worry about the prompt, even, if that’s what’s making you feel limited. Just make me believe what you’re writing, Jisung.”

Nodding, Jisung finally understands the whole point of what his professor is telling him. Truth be told, Mr Kim is right– he does not care a bit about the story he wrote. While he can admit that he did a good job on it, he did well at writing about ghosts– the prompt for this semester’s final work (they focused on horror and mystery in literature this year)– he is ready to throw the papers into his drawer and never think of them again, for he just wrote what he was supposed to without giving it any minor significance. He might have described the emotions of the characters well, he might have used pretty words and astonishing abbreviations, but at the end of the day, if someone asked him how much the story he wrote means to him, he’d tell them that it mattered to him no more than a homework he had to complete.

“I understand, Mr Kim. I’ll… I’ll try again,” he says, nodding.

He’s rewarded by a gentle smile coming from his mentor, an expression full of understatement and honest care for his student. Taking a step back from him and leaning on the desk, the professor hints that he can go now, offering him one last sentence of condolence before he sets him out of the classroom.

“I’d hate for your talent to go to waste, Jisung.”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, the boy slowly walks to the door, nodding one last time before he leaves. “I’ll try not to disappoint, sir.”

The halls of the university are dark due to the stormy clouds shielding the sun from offering the light to the world. Sighing and checking the time on his phone, Jisung notices that he missed his last tram and the only way he can get home now is to jog through the pouring rain. Opening the glass door of the university building, grunting as he puts the hood of his jacket over his head, he runs through the falling raindrops, still thinking of the words his professor told him in the classroom just a few minutes ago.

Not looking in front of him as he runs, his body bumps into someone, making him utter honest, yet quick apologies as he jogs off after making sure the person is okay and didn’t drop anything, hating the way wet clothing sticks to his skin, making him feel almost a little claustrophobic. In the frantic hurry to get home as soon as possible, the boy doesn’t notice he dropped something on the floor–

the papers containing the latest story he wrote for the final assignment of his Creative writing class. Sitting in a puddle, somewhere in the middle of the street, the letters wash away with the afternoon rain, metaphorically erasing everything he wrote and didn’t care about in the past, moving him forward into a new direction.

Still, he looks behind his shoulder, ready to collect them from the ground just in case he might need them for something in the future, only to find the back of the person he just bumped into running away, a stack of white, water-stained A4 papers in their hands. Their walk is all too familiar to Jisung, the back of their head reminding him of something he’s experienced in the past, the sway of their hips and the jolt in their step making warmth erupt in his stomach at the fond memory that makes itself creep back into the boy’s head.

“It can’t be…” he mumbles.

The thought still fresh in his brain, the speculations making thoughts run around his mind faster than the speed of light, he opens up another Word document on his laptop as soon as he takes off his shoes in his mother’s new apartment, fingertips on fire. To write about something he cares for? Putting his everything into words that would mean something to him? It doesn’t seem as difficult right now.

Ghosts. The topic he found difficult to write about, for he’s never experienced anything paranormal before. He only tried to mimic everything he’s read about.

If anyone asked Park Jisung if he believed in ghosts, he’d tell them yes, however– for he has seen longing grow legs and follow him.

To write something he cares about, he decides– he’ll write about you.

He’ll write about the summer that even now, after so many months, feels like a dream.

399 notes · View notes

goldendynastys · 10 months

Text

now that we don’t talk | hjs

summary: you can’t help but feel upset and reel about the past after your breakup with han jisung. however, after weeks of reflection and loneliness, you come to realize that perhaps you’re better off on your own after remembering how awful it was being on and off with him.

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+, Minors DNI | modern/college au, angst, some fluff, slight smut word count: 9.2k warnings/notes: 1989 taylor’s version is my new obsession and this vault track has been growing on me so here we are, long-haired jisung brought me here okay, stoner! jisung, explicit language, alcohol and marijuana usage, major angst, reader is going through it, mentions of sadness and loneliness, slight fluff, jisung is lowkey an asshole and a terrible boyfriend, mentions of sex and sexual activities, reader gets her shit together and finds closure, i’m pretty sure that’s it but if i miss anything please let me know (i’m new at this), hope you all enjoy reading! <3

disclaimer: all members of Stray Kids are faces and name claims for this story. this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios.

banner made by the lovely @babystrcandy <3

──────────────────────

It was Friday afternoon, and the last thing you wanted to do was meet up for a group project. You and a few other classmates were supposed to be working on some psychology project, analyzing different parts of the brain and how it applies to the work world (you had no clue, it was only assigned to you Wednesday). Your group was supposed to meet yesterday, but of course, one of the members canceled at the last minute, forcing all of you to meet on Friday. Everyone was pissed, to say the least.

The walk to the library was pleasant, if you were being honest. You always loved the spring, how the once dead trees suddenly sprung back to life with healthy leaves and beautiful flowers adorning the branches. The weather was starting to get warmer, which meant you didn’t have to carry around an oversized jacket and gloves all the time. Thank God, cause it came to a point where the freezing cold was starting to bother you. Now you could wear a sweater all on its own and be completely fine.

You watched as some flower petals blew in the wind, smiling at the image above you. With an iced coffee in your hand, you walked through campus and made your way to the library. After walking in silence amongst the wind, you realized that maybe meeting up for the project today wasn’t so bad after all. The walk seemed to calm you, help you ground yourself after all the negative thoughts that ran through your head previously. You were more motivated to take on the project and get as much work done as possible before heading into a nice, relaxing weekend away from classes.

Your group decided to secure a study room on the first floor, since you all could talk freely without people trying to quiet down every five minutes. You saw one of your members, Chae-Won, standing outside a room, to which she greeted you by your name and with a wave. “Hey, Chae-Won. Has anyone else come?” You ask her.

“Yeah, we’re all here. We were doing homework separately here earlier and it took us less than five seconds to find each other,” Chae-Won explained, knowing you would feel bad for being the last one to show up and keep everyone waiting. You both walked into the study room and took your respective seats.

The time you spent preparing for this project went by so quickly, as it was already three in the afternoon and everyone was starting to leave for the night. Your group decided to call it a night, after successfully setting up your slides and actually discussing what the project entailed. You were doing just fine until one of your group members, Alex, decided to mention something that took you completely by surprise.

“Of course I’m going to the party tonight. Han Jisung’s going to be there, and you know how fun he can be at parties. Plus, he has the best weed on campus, and I need to refill my stash,” Alex commented, to which your other group member he was talking to smacked his arm loudly.

You froze at the mention of that name. You hadn’t really heard it in a few weeks, since you didn’t talk to many people and honestly tried to forget everything associated with it. You awkwardly look at your surroundings, trying to change the subject completely.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Alex apologized, proceeding to use your name in order to convey how deeply sorry he was.

You played it off by smiling and shaking your head. “It’s fine, Alex. It’s been a bit since we’ve broken up, so you’re all good.”

That’s right. Han Jisung was your ex boyfriend, and the mention of his name always made your skin crawl. You were trying to erase every memory you had of him. He wasn’t a terrible boyfriend, no, but certainly not the best. You couldn’t help but briefly think back to all of the fights you had leading up towards the end of your breakup, how angry and sad you were with him. You also couldn’t help but think about the good times you shared, cuddling and kissing and everything else that came with that. A flurry of emotions and memories swarmed your brain all at once, and you just had to get out of that damn library as quickly as possible.

“All right,” you clapped your hands together. “It was great working with you all tonight, I appreciate all of your hard work. I will get started on my part sometime this weekend, not sure when. I’ll see you guys on Monday. Have a good night, everyone.”

Everyone said goodbye to you as you darted for the exit. You stopped in your tracks, however, when you heard Chae-Won call your name. “Wait up!” She cried. “Hey, I’m sorry for what Alex said, he’s a complete idiot. He honestly wasn’t thinking.”

“No, it’s cool. Not a lot of people knew Jisung and I were together, so it’s not a big deal,” you reassured her, a small pang of sadness hitting your chest.

“I know, but it still hurts. Breakups are the worst, especially when the guy is a dumbass,” Chae-Won said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle loudly at her comment. “But seriously, men are idiots, and I’m sorry about your breakup. If you want, we should hangout sometime. I know some cool clubs downtown that play good music and have the best vibes. Or we can just stay in and watch movies, it doesn’t matter to me.”

A huge smile grew on your face. No one has spoken so kindly to you in a while, so to hear that made your heart feel warm. You placed a hand on Chae-Won’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Chae-Won. I really appreciate it. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer, but I honestly just want to hang out by myself tonight. It’s been a long week.”

“Of course. I was the same last week, and I’ll probably end up falling asleep at ten tonight because of how exhausted I am,” she joked, in which you laughed with her. “But I mean it, just text me anytime and we can work something out.”

“Absolutely, I will for sure. Have a good night,” you told your friend as you made your way to the door.

A bittersweet feeling sat with you as you walked out of the library. On one hand, you started thinking about your ex-boyfriend when you really didn’t want to. But at the same time, you had made a new friend, a friend who seemed really eager to spend time with you. The feeling stayed with you as you walked back to your apartment on-campus, stopping by the grocery store to pick up some dinner and your favorite snacks before heading in for the night. You were excited to have a self-care night, focused solely on yourself and resting after a long week of classes and exams.

──────────────────────

Your night was going completely fine until you decided to redownload Instagram. You had come to realize that despite taking a long shower, doing your nails, and watching a movie, you were still bored out of your mind. Maybe it was because of how early in the night it was, or because you couldn’t stop thinking of Jisung and what he was doing right now. A mixture of both, probably.

Quickly signing into your account, you became nervous as the screen started to load, getting ready to show you account. Immediately upon looking at your feed, your stomach instantly dropped. Not only was there a new post from Jisung, sporting a new haircut and outfit, but there was also a post on his story. You nervously clicked his icon, revealing a group photo of him and his friends at a party from a few months back, claiming he “wanted to show some love to his brothers.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the picture, as you were the one to take that photo, and you weren’t particularly fond of what happened that night. Jisung insisted you come to this party, since you had been locking yourself in your apartment every night for the past two weeks. You kept telling him no, but he only had to say a few words about how pretty you were and how much he missed you for you to change your mind. Looking back, you hate how much of a pushover you were, wishing you had a backbone to tell him no, especially for a guy who didn’t give a damn about you.

The entire night, you clung to Jisung while he completely ignored you, smoking blunts while trying different alcohol drinks and focusing on his friends. They were chatting about something completely stupid, most likely the new video game they all started playing or how many girls they had fucked in the past few weeks. It left you bored and irritated out of your mind, and when Jisung asked you to take a picture of him and his friends, you took the photo and stormed off.

It was a faint memory now, as they all started to blend together because of how similar they were. Jisung would tell you how much he missed you and how pretty you were, you’d hang out, and he’d ignore you if he was with his friends or at a party. The same routine, God knows why you stayed with him all that time when he treated you like shit.

But you were reminded of the good times when you “accidentally” clicked on Jisung’s profile to see what he had been posting. You saw photos of him hanging out at different places in the city, some of which were taken by you. You also recalled taking numerous photos together, some selfies of him kissing you or your cheek, others of you two just being a happy couple. Those days were the best, as it was just you two doing whatever you wanted and having so much fun.

That was one of the reasons why you stayed for so long, because of how sweet and caring Jisung could be. You held onto the hope that he would start treating you like that whenever you were with his friends or in more public spaces, but that never happened, no matter how hard you kept trying.

You couldn’t help but feel a small tear roll down your cheek once you saw some photos of Jisung hanging out with some girls, letting them cling onto him at parties and really starting to notice how much he had changed since you two broke up. His hair was longer, his wardrobe had taken a turn (for the worse, if you were being completely honest), and he just appeared to be having more fun. Especially with the girls on his profile, as you noticed there had been other photos of them together at different parties. You wondered what he did at them, or if he got anxious when he left (since he always told you he was afraid of leaving places at night).

You shut off your phone and you couldn’t help but start crying. You hated how upset you were over this, how you bottled up your emotions and pretended that you were fine, but in reality you were just sad. Sad that you had to break up with the boy you really liked, one that you wanted to have a serious relationship with. You wanted it so badly, and for Jisung to fight for you just as much as you fought for him. But he didn’t, he honestly didn’t care about you that much. Not enough to make him stay.

What got to you the most was the fact that Jisung was posting photos of him hanging out with girls, when he never even posted one photo of you two together. Were you really that awful of a girlfriend? Sure, you had your fair share of flaws, as you were human and humans were not meant to be perfect, but you didn’t think you were that terrible. You were loyal to Jisung, never once did you come off as too clingy or annoying, and you respected his boundaries, never questioning who he was hanging out with in an accusing manner. So why did he treat you the way he treated you when you were together?

You couldn’t help but wonder… had Jisung been seeing other girls when you were together? No, he was not the best boyfriend in the world, that’s for damn sure. But he would never cheat, he constantly reassured you that he wasn’t seeing anyone else and that you were “the only one for him” (which was a total lie, but it was reassuring nonetheless). That was the only thing you believed and remained true throughout the course of your relationship.

When you two started having sex, you wanted to make sure he was clean and did not have any STDs. You both got tested (per your request) and it was something you took very seriously. Jisung constantly reassured you that he did not have an STD and wasn’t seeing anyone else. And he was right; from the numerous times you had sex or done other sexual activities, you never once got an infection.

Sex with Jisung was one of the things you missed the most about your relationship. Not only because he was clean, but because of how good he made you feel. Always letting you come first, pleasuring you in the right places and not stopping until you were satisfied. There was a day where your roommate went home for the weekend and Jisung stayed over, to which you two had sex basically the entire night, trying out different positions and entangling yourself in each other's arms. You even had sex in the shower, which was a whole other playing field you desperately wanted to try again. And you did, on multiple occasions.

You missed the way he made you feel, how he made your body feel. And now that he was most likely doing the same stuff you two did with other girls, you couldn’t help but feel a piece of your heart shatter. You hadn’t really processed the breakup until now, throwing yourself into schoolwork and pretending like everything was fine. Now that you were seeing things for how they actually were, you couldn’t help but start crying.

You could feel the tears falling down your cheeks slowly, coming out rapidly and for no way for you to stop them. You deleted Instagram as quickly as possible as you realized you could no longer stay on that godforsaken app without getting upset. You continued to let yourself cry it out, the bottled up emotions finally exploding and flooding from your mind. You laid in bed and just let yourself cry; it was the best thing you could do for yourself at that point.

Once you realized that crying wasn’t going to make you stop being sad, you decided to call your mother. You two were very close and always had been since childhood. You were just so busy with school and her with her job that it was hard for you guys to talk all the time. Normally you try to call each other once or twice a week, more if you both had the time. This week you hadn’t spoken much, just because of your schedules. You figured she would from work, as it was the evening and she always got out early on Fridays. Sniffling, you opened your phone and dialed her number, waiting anxiously for her to pick up.

It took a few rings before you heard your mother on the other line. “Hello?” She spoke in a normal tone.

“H-Hi Mom,” you cry quietly, trying not to break down right in front of her. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Oh of course, what’s going on?” She asked, immediately knowing something was wrong. Mother’s instinct, you guessed. “Why are you crying? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m not in danger or anything, but . . . do you remember Jisung? My ex boyfriend?” You ask, making yourself comfortable on your bed and hugging one of your Squishmallows.

“Ugh, yeah. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I don’t like him,” your mother answered, disgusted. You couldn’t help but laugh at her behavior, as you felt the exact same way about him. “Why? Has he done something to upset you?”

“No. Matter of fact, we haven’t spoken since I broke up with him. No I just, I was doing this group project for one of my classes and this guy Alex mentioned how Jisung was going to have this epic party tonight and . . . I don’t know. I logged onto Instagram just to see what he’s been up to and . . . he’s completely changed. He grew his hair long, and it looks like he’s trying out different lives with all the ‘cool’ photos he’s been posting at different places in the city. He even posted photos with some girls, and I guess it just hit me that we’re not together anymore. I’ve been holding it for weeks now and all the emotions are hitting me at once. So yeah, I’m just really sad. I’m sorry to bother you, I know it’s late and you’ve had a long day at work.”

“Do not apologize,” your mother reassured you. “You are completely fine. I’m your mom, I’m always here for you. Let me be the first to say that I think Jisung is a loser, okay? I never liked him, not since you told me about how terribly he treated you at that party and other times after that. In all seriousness, social media only shows one side of the story. I know you’ve heard this a million times, but it’s true. People only post the best parts of their lives to make it seem like they’re cool and interesting, when they really aren’t. Jisung is doing the exact same thing.”

“No, I know what you mean, and I agree with you. It just sucks because he’s posting photos I took of him and he wouldn’t even post a photo of us together, but has the audacity to post photos with two girls? It just makes me so upset. I know I was the one to dump him, but I did it because of how he treated me like garbage. He’d ignore me whenever we would hang out with his friends, get mad at me for being mad at him for being an asshole, and just gaslight me into thinking that he wasn’t treating me terribly, he was just ‘busy’ with school. I don’t know, it’s hitting me all at once and I don’t know what to do,” you vented, wiping the many tears that fell from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

Silence filled between you as you cried, your mother soothing you over the phone by letting you cry. “Let it out, it’s okay. Just get everything off of your chest, I’m right here. You’re dealing with a lot, so just let it out.”

You continued to cry until what felt like forever, and you finally managed to take a deep breath and restart the conversation. “It hurts, and I don’t know why. I guess I still miss him, he’s changed and he didn’t have to. I miss how it used to be. I . . . I wish we could get back together. Start fresh, you know?”

“Of course. I get what you mean, I was the same with this boyfriend I had in high school. I wanted him back, he was a piece of shit, and eventually I got over it. Thank God, cause Ricky turned out to be a complete asshole. He’s also gotten really ugly,” your mother shared, to which you giggled at how she spoke about her ex. “I say all this to remind you that it’s normal to want him back. But Honey, it’s for the best. Jisung was not a good boyfriend to you. Every time you gave him attention and showed interest in him, he’d always blow you off or get annoyed. He wanted you less than you wanted him, you have to remember that.”

You nodded your head, realizing what your mother said was true. “You’re right, he did get uninterested and bored whenever I gave him attention and affection. And then he’d get mad and tell me that he missed me so much whenever I didn’t talk to him for a few days. Ugh, people like that are the absolute worst. You either want me or you don’t, you can’t have both.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Your mother agreed with you enthusiastically. “That’s how Jisung was with you. I mean, he basically faded away weeks before you broke up with him. I know you miss him, but it’s the idea of him that you miss and want back. Not actually him. This breakup is for the best, you’ll find someone who will treat you right and make you forget that Jisung even exists. I know it doesn’t help much, but trust me, it is true. And it will happen.”

“It does help. I’m so young, I have so much to look forward to and crying over a stupid boy is so pointless. Well, not pointless, but you know what I mean. I think I’m okay now, I’m just going to remind myself whenever I get sad that it’s for the best and it’s okay to feel the way I’m feeling. I just need to remember that Jisung is an asshole and I deserve better,” you told your mother, but mainly to yourself since you’re coaching yourself through your emotions. “Thank you for listening to me, Mommy. I appreciate it so much.”

“I’m your mom, Honey. I’m always here for you, no matter what. I’m glad you’re feeling better and that you’re actually processing your emotions. It’s not good to bottle them up, you know,” your mother reassured you. “Take it easy for the rest of the night, okay? Watch a movie, have some ice cream, read a book. I don’t know, whatever is going to help you relax. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“For sure, I’m just so grateful for you and everything that you do for me. Thank you,” you thanked her. “I think I’m going to put on a movie and eat some ice cream. Should I watch When Harry Met Sally or 10 Things I Hate About You?”

“Ooh, they’re both so good. Um, I’d have to say When Harry Met Sally. Classic, can never go wrong with it,” your mother answered. “I gotta run, your father wants to watch a show before we go to bed. Call me if you need anything or if you still want to talk, okay?”

“Okay Mom, I will. Tell Dad I say hi and that I miss him! I love you, talk to you soon,” you answered.

“I will. I love you more, goodnight,” she spoke.

“Goodnight,” and with that, you both hung up the phone.

You took a deep breath before sighing. It felt good to get that off your chest, as it had been weighing on you for so long. You felt a bit better, a sense of clarity washing over you as you got organized for the movie you were about to watch. Of course, you were still upset about Jisung and a small part of you still wanted him back, but that was a natural part of a breakup. Of course you wanted him back, it had only been a few weeks since you broke up, so it was normal for you to miss him and want to get back together. You knew you would get over this eventually, you just needed time to let out your emotions and process them.

You’d be the person you were before you dated Jisung and you started to look forward to finding yourself again. A small smile arose on your face as you turned on the television and got your movie ready, excited for a nice, relaxing weekend.

──────────────────────

The weekend was a relaxing time for you, a peaceful weekend you really needed. You finished that movie you told your mom you were going to watch (and it was amazing, as always) and then you decided to go to bed for the night. It wasn’t hard for you to sleep with all of your Squishmallows and stuffed animals surrounding you. You had a great night's sleep, to put it simply, and it prepared you for the nice weekend ahead.

You only had a little homework left to complete, just the slides for your project and a quick quiz to take (to which you got a one hundred percent, per usual). You did that fairly early in the day so you could have the rest of the day to do whatever you wanted. Rather than wallowing in your apartment all day, you decided to explore the city and go to different places you hadn’t been before. You had put on a cute outfit, one that made you feel confident and fashionable. You wanted that boost after how low you were feeling last night, and you hadn’t worn something cute in a while, so you figured this would be the perfect time to do so.

You traveled to different vintage shops and bookstores, looking for little trinkets to put in your room. Eventually you found some cool little plates and small, aesthetic photos to put on your wall and bookshelf. You even found a vintage vinyl record and a new book to read, so all in all, it was a successful day. You went to a new cafe you had been wanting to try for a while now, but hadn’t had the time because of school and . . . well, doing whatever Jisung wanted to do.

You tried to block him out of your thoughts, especially since you wanted to heal from the breakup and move on with your life. And you were successful, for the most part. It was the little things that made you think of Jisung, such as wanting to tell him all about the new book you found or wanting to take him to the coffee shop and antique store you went to. But you quickly reminded yourself that the breakup was for the best, and that whenever you gave Jisung so much attention, he’d want you less and less. That helped you stop and reset your mind, and it worked for the majority of the day.

After your adventure, you decided to head home, get some good food from the campus dining hall, and watch another movie. You loved watching movies and rating them on your Letterboxd account, it was a hobby you found pleasurable. Being able to rate movies and see what others thought about it, especially the ones that left funny reviews. You tried to leave funny ones that you saw on Twitter and TikTok, but they were not nearly as great or creative as what other people wrote. Still, it was a fun thing to do.

You quickly placed your bags on your bookshelf and made your way to the dining hall. Though you lived on-campus, it was still a far walk because you lived on one side and the dining hall was on another, so you wanted to make sure you got there on time. And you certainly didn’t mind it on this gorgeous afternoon. It didn’t take you as long as you thought and you had plenty of time, but you wanted to make sure you weren’t being rude by showing up ten minutes before the dining hall closed. You just wanted to be courteous to the staff who worked long hours in the cafeteria.

You noticed you had gotten a text from your mother, to which you pulled out your phone and tried to read what it said. However, you collided with someone, in which both of you stumbled backwards with a gasp. Luckily, neither of you had a drink in your hands, so no one’s clothes got stained with various liquids. That was always a plus. Nothing else fell, either, which was an honest relief. You could not afford to get your phone screen fixed nor could you buy a new one, so it was just a matter of running into someone while you weren’t looking.

“Sorry about that, I . . .” the voice trailed off, in which it belonged to Hwang Hyunjin, a friend of Jisung's who just so happened to be heading to the dining hall at the same time you were. He proceeded to say your name in a confused manner, surprised to see you out and about.

“Hyunjin? Hey, how are you? It’s been a while,” you asked with an enthusiastic smile. You always liked Hyunjin, as he was very nice and made you feel welcome within him and Jisung’s friend group. More than Jisung, if you were being honest.

“I’ve been good, yeah just busy with school and studying. I’ve been trying to paint more when I have the time and it’s coming along really nicely,” he explained, which made you happy to hear. Even if you and Jisung were no longer together, you had a soft spot for his friends and wished them nothing but the best. “H-How have you been? None of us have heard from you in, like, weeks.”

A puzzled look arose on your face as you processed the question. Did Jisung not say anything? Why didn’t he tell his best friends that he and his girlfriend broke up? After all, all of you spend a good amount of weekends together, going out to dinner or hanging out at parties. Why wouldn't Jisung come clean? Unless he didn’t care to tell them and just assumed they would figure it out on their own, which hurt more than you thought it did, but maybe it was for the best. Let the boys think you turned into a mystery, it made you feel cool and interesting.

You took a deep breath before breaking the news to Hyunjin, wanting to prepare for the awkwardness that would come afterwards. “Uh, yeah. I got really busy with school and stuff, but um . . . Jisung and I aren’t together anymore. We broke up. That’s the main reason for why you all don’t see me around anymore.”

There was a pause, the Hwang boy taking in everything you told him. He looked shocked, to say the least, as he figured you were just busy with school and didn’t have the time to party. But he thought wrong and did not expect for you and Jisung to break up. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh. “Shit. I-I didn’t know,” he continued by mentioning your name in a serious and caring manner. “I’m sorry, that’s awful. Can I ask why? if it’s too much, you don't have to share—”

“No it’s okay, Hyunjin. Really, it’s fine. We just don’t have anything in common and I wanted to focus on school and finding an internship,” you admit. You couldn’t pretend it was for platonic reasons, as your relationship just ended and you could not fathom being Jisung’s friend right now. “So yeah, I ended things a few weeks ago. I’m doing okay, I just spent the day in the city and went to some really cool stores. You’d really like the antique shop I went to, they have a lot of paintings you would think are cool.”

Hyunjin nodded his head sympathetically. “That’s cool, I’ll definitely check it out when I have the time. I’m just busy between school and extracurriculars, it’s chaotic,” he commented. “But I’m sorry to hear that, you guys were cute together. Do you think you guys could ever be friends? We miss having you around and would love to keep hanging out with you.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think so. There’s just too much that happened and I’m not even sure if Jisung and I could even be friends given our history. And in general, too, since we’re complete opposites,” you sadly explained. It was true: you and Jisung were too different and you could not be his friend. If you couldn’t get along romantically, then how the hell were you two supposed to get along as friends? You’d rather play it safe and just not be friends with him. You wanted to be as far away as you could be from the Han boy, especially since you wanted to heal and prioritize yourself from now on.

You could tell Hyunjin was upset, since he liked hanging out with you and everyone else. It hurt your heart, but it was for the best. Who knows, maybe you could put this behind you one day and be friends with them again, Jisung included. But right now, it just hurt too much, and it would be better for your mental health if you kept your distance from Jisung and his friends.

“I understand, you gotta put yourself first and do what’s best for you. I respect that,” Hyunjin explained. “But we’re always here for you if you change your mind. We can deal with Jisung, we can even kick him out of the house for the night and make him hang out with his other friends while you hang out with us. Only if you want though, it’s just an option in case you ever wanted to.”

You laughed at his idea. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I really appreciate it. You’re so kind, so sweet. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

“Of course. I always got your back,” he reassured you, adding your name to the end of his sentence to make sure you knew he meant what he said. “I have to run to the library before they close to print something. I’ll see you around?”

You nodded your head and started to make your way toward the dining hall. “Yeah, I’ll see you around. Bye, Hyunjin.”

He called out your name while he waved goodbye, and with that, you parted ways. You wanted to cry, the moment you shared was so sweet and it made you sad that you could no longer be friends with Hyunjin and the rest of Jisung’s friends. They were such a great group of guys, even when they were annoying, they always managed to make you laugh and include you in everything when you were all together. It was for the best, but you knew you were going to miss having a big group of friends who really cared about you.

It was almost as if a lightbulb had turned on in your head. You were sad about not being able to have friends, but you realized that your only friends were your boyfriend’s friends (you are an antisocial person who has had trouble making friends at your school). Meaning, you were sad about not having friends, but it was up to you now to go out of your comfort zone and start trying to make friends. Sure, people were probably settled in their friend groups by now, but you truly did not give a fuck. Surely there had to be people out there who were looking for friends too or simply did not stick to one friend group. You just had to put yourself out there and just find the right people.

It was going to be hard for sure, as you don’t make best friends five minutes into meeting them, but you were looking forward to the journey and who you would meet along the way. You decided to eat your dinner before making any action steps towards your plan because you were starving and had to get food before the dining hall closed. Once that was taken care of, you walked back to your apartment as quickly as possible.

You sat on your couch and decided to give Chae-Won a call. She had given you her number before you left the library on Friday, saying how you could reach out to her if you ever wanted to hang out. So, in honor of starting your journey to finding friends, you decided to act on it and dialed her number. It took a few rings before she answered, and you were nervous to talk to her, but ready nonetheless. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Hey, Chae-Won!” You greeted her and let her know your name. She excitedly said hello and was happy that you called. “Yeah, I am too! I was just wondering . . . are you going anything tonight?”

And from there on out, your world was about to shift on its axis for the better.

──────────────────────

Six months had passed since everything that happened, and you were in a much better place than before. A lot had happened in a short amount of time — some great things, the others mundane. It didn’t matter, because you were thriving.

The phone call you shared with Chae-Won was what started it all, really. You had asked her if she wanted to hang out that night, and she was very happy that you asked her that. You ended up staying at her apartment for the night and had a blast, watching movies and drinking good drinks. You talked about what you both liked to do for fun and what other classes you were taking, and it turned out you two liked similar things. You loved watching movies and rating them on Letterboxd, you loved music, and you loved exploring the city. You both could tell from that night a special friendship had begun to blossom.

You continued to make friends through your classes while also prioritizing yourself and your mental health. You only did things you wanted to, knew when your social battery was draining and went home to recharge, and you started to journal to reflect on your life and try to better understand who you were. These methods have helped you greatly and continue to do so to this day. You have learned a lot about yourself and have grown in so many ways. You were proud of how far you had come, to say the least.

In addition to Chae-Won becoming a very close friend of hers, you also met some friends outside of your major and in extracurriculars. It was a bit hard at first, as Chae-Won was your only friend and it was challenging to meet people when they already had their established friend groups. You were lonely, but making an active effort into meeting people. Eventually, your hard work paid off and you started meeting people like yourself. They had friends, but not a tight-knit friend group who did everything together. Turns out, the friends you were meeting were also friends with Chae-Won, and a little group formed between you four.

You started doing small things, like going over to each other’s apartments to hang out and watch movies. As you started to become closer, you started to visit the cool clubs Chae-Won mentioned during your meeting for that group project (to which your group got an A, courtesy of you two working your asses off you make sure it was good) and other spots recommended from strangers you met on your outings. You always had a good time together, and even aside from them, you liked the girls and boys you befriended even outside of the friend group that you would occasionally do things with.

Who knew that by actually leaving your bedroom and putting yourself out there would cause you to meet people and make friends! (Those were the exact words your mother used when you called her to tell her the news about meeting new friends and taking better care of yourself. You still laughed about that, even now, but your mother was absolutely right. When was she ever wrong)?

On top of learning about yourself and meeting new friends, you also acquired a summer internship in the city. You did some advertising work for a computer company, making sure their ads were effective and how to best get people to buy their products through the use of visuals. This was the reason why you were a marketing major and a psychology minor: to do work like this. It was the best of both worlds and you got to do something you loved, which was something you were very serious about. If you didn’t love the work that you did, then you would’ve been miserable and you simply could not have that.

Your new friends didn’t live too far from the city, so they came and visited you whenever they could on the weekends and you did whatever you wanted, since it was summer and there were no classes. The summer was perfect overall: you had a great job, you met amazing friends, and you were in a better place than you were in the winter. It was interesting to see how things became full circle, you honestly thought you would never see the day.

But even with this healing journey and getting to a better place, you couldn’t help but think about Jisung every so often. You didn’t miss him, no . . . did you? You couldn’t tell. You missed hanging out and being in a relationship with him, and he wasn’t the worst boyfriend on the planet, so it wasn’t like you were running back to a completely terrible situation. But then you remembered all the bad stuff that happened within it, and then you were torn. You were in a much better place mentally from when you first got together and broke up, so the idea of trying it again didn’t seem so terrible. You would only reconsider it if you were to run into him on campus and have an actual conversation. Perhaps that would give you the clarity you had been looking for.

And that day surely came when you least expected it. It was around the third week of classes, and you were heading to one of your advertising classes when you heard someone call out your name. You looked up in confusion, as no one has ever yelled out your name like that before. Curiously, you tried to search for whoever said your name, which didn’t take you long because once you saw the figure of Han Jisung, with his long hair and interesting choice of clothes, you immediately knew it was him.

Your legs and body froze as you watched him walk towards you. You did not know what to do — part of you wanted to blow him off and say you were running late to class, but the other side of you wanted to talk to him, to see how things were. You had no idea which choice was the right decision. You were scared you were going to immediately forgive him and forget everything that happened between you two, and you didn’t want that. At least, you didn’t think you did.

Your mind became filled with a tornado of thoughts once Jisung approached you. He had that signature smile he always gave you whenever he greeted you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach simultaneously, and it was almost as if you had forgotten how to speak.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted. “It’s been a while, how are you? How was your summer?”

You stared at him for a brief moment before collecting yourself. You can do this, you said to yourself. Just talk to him how you would talk to your friends. “Jisung, hey! I’m . . . I’m doing well. Yeah, I stayed in the city to do an internship and it was great. H-How about you?”

“Oh it was great, I did some work for this tech company, mainly coding and shit. It wasn’t bad, but I’d much rather be listening to music and chilling, you know,” he explained nonchalantly.

“Ah, yes. You always said music and relaxing were way more fun than studying and classes,” you commented, in which he laughed. You recalled many times when you would hang out with him on the quad after your classes while he skipped his and listened to some songs that you thought were just God-awful. You didn’t even know what genre they would be considered, that’s how bad it was.

“And I still believe it’s true. That and doing it with someone you like or are close with, those three things are what make it perfect,” Jisung laughed again. “Do anything fun over the summer?”

“Yeah, I hung out with some of my friends who live close to the city. They’re all in different majors, but they’re really nice. Other than that, I just went to visit home a few times,” you answered.

“That’s nice. How’s your mom doing?” He asked.

She thinks you’re a loser, you thought to yourself while you tried to hide your smile. You couldn’t help but think back to what she said all those months ago, and how she probably felt the same way today. You shook your head, “she’s doing great, I’ll tell her you say hi,” you reassured. “How was your summer?”

“Oh it was fine. Boring, but fun. Went to a few parties, smoked a lot and just had a good time with my friends from home. I missed the guys though, we only saw each other once. I’m glad we’re together again,” Jisung explained and you just nodded your head.

You were happy his summer wasn’t terrible. Certainly you wouldn’t have wanted to have been together; him dragging you to parties and completely ignoring you while hanging out with his friends was the definition of hell for you. You were glad that he had his fun and you had yours.

There was an awkward silence between you, like there was something that wanted to be said but neither of you could say anything. You briefly glanced at your phone and saw that class was starting in ten minutes, and it was then that you decided to break the silence and speak. “I gotta get to class in ten minutes, it was nice running—”

“I miss you,” Jisung blurted out, which made your stomach drop. You could feel your chest tighten as you anticipated his next words. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot and I . . . I just miss you and being with you. I know we haven’t talked in, like, months, but I miss you. Do you want to get coffee this week and talk about this more?”

And there it was. This was what you were waiting for, now and when you two first broke up. You had hoped it wouldn’t, but it was inevitable at this point. You eventually had to talk about it. And you just stood there, staring at him and admiring his beauty. His hair was still long, hidden in a black beanie with a pair of headphones resting on his neck. Han Jisung was an attractive person, there was no denying that.

He sounded genuine, with his words. He wanted to talk about your relationship and how to move forward, to get back together. He wanted to be with you. Your old self wouldn’t even give it a second thought and immediately say yes. She would have wanted this for you. But now, you weren’t sure.

You thought about the nights you spent crying over how he treated you at a party, or when he wouldn’t text you back but would post back-to-back on his Instagram and Snapchat stories. You thought about how every time you put so much energy into him and your relationship, he would give less back and would get annoyed. When you gave less, he claimed he missed you and wanted you to spend time with him. You never knew which Jisung you were going to get: the kind Jisung, who was the one who made you want to be his girlfriend in the first place. Or the asshole Jisung, who ignored you and got annoyed at you for simple actions.

The whole relationship drained you. A constant battle of he’s such a great boyfriend, I love him or he’s the worst person ever and I can’t believe he’s treating me this way. Jisung seemed like he wanted things to be different this time around, with his serious face and tone of voice. But how do you know if it was sincere? Was he just saying it to get back together and then would repeat the same actions later on?

And when you thought about your relationship more, you realized there were some things you could stop pretending to like. Jisung’s music taste, for example. You always told him it was cool and unique, but you honestly hated it. Now that you weren’t together, you didn’t have to pretend to like his shitty music. And you also didn’t have to pretend that you liked going to parties with him, while he ignored you the entire night and focused on his friends doing the stupidest things ever. You realized you didn’t have to pretend to like things for the sake of making other people happy.

And man, was that feeling life changing.

You couldn’t help but think about the good parts of your relationship, too. Your hangouts in the city, in your bedroom’s, watching movies and having sex whenever you could. They were all great memories most definitely, but memories that were not worth getting back together for the sake of being together.

The healing journey you went on (and were still currently on) made you into a better person. You turned into a shrouded mystery, completely reinventing yourself and changing your outlook on everything. You became unrecognizable, similar to how you were before you met Jisung. Turning into a shrouded mystery and going through that painful start of your journey was the only way back to your dignity. And that was simply something you could not afford to lose again, you couldn't risk losing all of that hard work you did.

You took a deep breath in before giving Jisung your answer. “Jisung, I . . . I can’t. We . . . the way you treated me was just awful. I really let you walk all over me and I am not going to do that again. I know you’ve probably changed and won’t do it again, but I just can’t. The breakup sucked and it took me a long time to get to where I am now, and I can’t destroy the progress I’ve made. I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if we get back together.”

You watched Jisung’s face fall as you explained your answer. You hated hurting people, but you had to do it for yourself. “I completely understand. I’m really sorry for how I treated you, I am. I feel terrible for the way I acted and how I made you go out when you didn’t want to. I don’t know what I was thinking, but you deserve a lot better than me. And I will forever be upset over how I treated you and let an awesome girl go.”

His apology warmed your heart a bit; it was good to have an actual apology for how awful you had been treated, it healed a small part of your heart. “Thank you, Jisung,” you thanked him quietly. “I’ll always be thankful for you and our relationship. You taught me a lot and it honestly helped me go out of my comfort zone. If it weren’t for you or our break up, I wouldn’t have changed and be the person I am today. So thank you for that, truly.”

A sad laugh escaped his lips. “Glad I was actually able to give you something great,” he spoke quietly, in which his words made you smile slightly. “Do you think we could be friends?”

You hesitated to answer at first, but you eventually found the right words to say. “Um, not right now, no. I think I just need to focus on myself and figure out what the hell I’m doing with life and everything. Being friends could turn into something else that I do not have time to worry about nor do I want to worry about. Plus, I am just really busy with school and homework, so I wouldn’t be able to hang out much,” you explained. “It’s not entirely out of the picture, though. Once I’m in a better place with myself, I don’t see why not. You’re a kind and funny person, Han Jisung. I want those kinds of people as my friends.”

Jisung nodded his head. “Yeah, I understand. Take as long as you need. It doesn’t matter if you decide by seventy-five that you are ready to be friends, I will gladly welcome you with open arms. That is, if I’m not in a nursing home by then. We’ll figure it out once we live next door to each other and have to figure out how to convince the nurses to give us better cafeteria food.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. Aside from your relationship drama, Jisung was a good guy who knew how to make people laugh and was very sincere. You were glad you were able to talk to him like this, even if it was for the last time, and leave things on a positive note. You looked down at your watch and saw that you only had five minutes until you had to get to class. “Listen, I really have to make it to this class, this professor is very strict on locking the doors right when the class starts. I’m happy we were able to talk, Jisung. I am glad you are doing well and thank you for . . . this. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“No worries, I get what you mean. I’m happy that you’re doing well, too,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Sunshine.”

And with that, Jisung turned around and made his way to another building on campus. You made your way into your classroom building and wandered the halls until you entered class and took your seat. Sitting down forced you to reflect on your conversation with Jisung, and how you were able to get the closure you needed.

You had been waffling earlier if you two should get back together now that you were in a good place. You could set necessary boundaries now that you were a more confident person. However, you decided against it and told Jisung that you did not want to get back together with him. From what he told you and your own realizations, you realized you would be better off staying single and focusing on yourself and your studies for a little while.

And with that came a happy feeling within your mind and body. You made the right decision, a decision that was going to best benefit you in the long run. A sense of peace had washed over you, and you couldn’t help but smile as you opened your textbook and began to take notes on your lecture, knowing that everything was going to be okay no matter what happened to you in the years to come.

24 notes · View notes

slytherinbangchan · 1 year

Text

Inked Dreams (NCT Dream Tattoo Artist!Au) (M)

Chap 2 out of 6 -> Second arc: Tattoo apprentice Park Jisung x tattoo artist female reader.

>>Inked Dream's Chap 1 here

Summary: A NCT Dream Tattooist!Au where the Dreamies are college's heartthrobs and most likely will steal your heart whenever you less expect it.

Cute, shy but very hot, flirty Jisung. A deadly combo, I promise.

Inked Dreams Masterlist~ Blog's Masterlist~

[2nd Arc: Seven Days. ("A Week" 없어.)🐹 Chap 2.]

“Noona.” Jisung calls you. “You look worried.” He says as he looks at your phone and then back at you. “Ah, it's nothing. I was just talking to Renjun about our schedule.” You say, putting away your phone and he nods. “Okay.” “Unnie~ I'm done with my chores, can I leave for today?” Seonhui interrumps. “Why are you calling her unnie?” Jisung asks her before you can answer her question. He sounds a bit sulky about it. “She said it was okay since you call her noona too.” Seonhui informs him and he kinda pouts and scrunches his nose.

Ugh, cute.

You smile to yourself and sigh before finally answering Seonhui's question. “Yes, you can leave. I have something to do with Jisung anyway.” You say and he blushes lightly, so you chuckle. “Your piercing.” You clarify and he blushes even more. “Y-yeah, I know...” He says as he ruffles his hair and Seonhui rolls her eyes at him. “Well, see you on Monday unnie~” She hugs you goodbye before walking away and you chuckle softly. “She's cute, right?” You ask Jisung and he scoffs. “I guess.” He says, still a bit sulky, and you bite your lip not to smile. “I see. Well, let's get you your piercing, yeah?” You tell him, motioning him with your head so he follows you.

“Where do you want it? You haven't told me yet.” You ask as you chuckle softly. “Middle tongue.” He says and you smile to yourself as you wash your hands and get some gloves. “Oh really? Are you sure?” You ask as you smirk and he nods a bit confused by your question. “Okay, give me a second.” You poke around the cabinets as he watches you. “Here.” You hand him the antiseptic mouthwash. “Use it, I'll get everything ready in the meantime, yeah?” You tell him and he nods, leaving to the bathroom to be back after a minute. “Ready?” You ask. “Yeah. I'm a bit nervous though.” He confesses. “Aw, it's okay love.” You say in a soothing way, and he blushes for some reason. Making your heart flutter lightly. “It'll hurt way less than that industrial, I can tell you that.” You point at his ear as you chuckle and he shyly nods. “Okay, now sit down and show me your tongue.”

He does as you say and sits down, then you take some measures to mark his tongue before clamping it after spraying some anesthesia. “You okay?” You ask and he nods lightly. “Good.” You smile. “Now, close your eyes and take a deep breath for me.” You ask him and he does as you say while you quickly pierce his tongue. “Okay, we're almost done.” You say while placing the jewerly, then you carefully put his tongue back in his mouth while you smile. “Done~ How are you feeling?” You ask. “Good-Oh... Weird.” He says, making you chuckle as he struggles with his own tongue. “Yeah, it's better if you don't talk for a while. Also, no hot drinks, spicy food, beer... ” You tell him as you clean around. “And of course, no kissing and obviously no oral sex.” You warn him as you point at him with the marker you used for his tongue and he blushes profusely.

You bump into Renjun on your way out the shop as he just comes in. “You're leaving?” He asks looking at you and then Jisung. “Yeah, I don't have any more appointments for today, Seonhui already left and Jisung needs to go home so... Yep. Should I stay so we can talk though?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No, it's alright. Let's have a drink next time yeah? Monday after work?” He suggests and you nod. “Sure. Call me if you need me though, yeah?” You ask and he nods too. “See you later, Jisung?” He asks and Jisung shakes his head while gesturing. “What's wrong with him?” Renjun asks you and you laugh. “I pierced his tongue. He shouldn't be talking for a couple days.” You explain. “Oh, will you be okay this weekend?” He asks and Jisung nods. “Well, take some ibuprofen and call me if you feel sick. DON'T cook but also don't order anything spicy.” Renjun says and Jisung nods and gestures him to stop talking cause he's embarrassing him. You laugh softly and push Jisung so he starts walking. “See you, Renjunnie.”

It's already night time when you walk out but it's still early. “Hey, why aren't you allowed to cook?” You ask as you chuckle and he silently chuckles too, then proceeds to gesture the reason why, making you laugh in the process. “I'm gonna guess you're just a bad cook.” You say and he nods as he smiles and gives you a thumbs up. Ahhh, he's even cuter now than he normally is, ugh.

He points at you and shrugs, making you chuckle again. “Am I a good cook?” You guess his question and he happily nods. “Yeah, I'm okay.” You say and he nods one more time as you reach the bus stop. “Oh, it's coming already, lucky.” You say as you see the bus in the distance and he scrunches his nose. “What? Aren't you happy that we don't have to wait?” You ask, amused at his reaction and he shrugs, taking out his phone to write on the notes app. “I was having fun.” You read then chuckle. “Yeah? Me too. We can still chat in the bus though.” You say and he shakes his head as he sighs then motions you to jump in the bus first. You sit together next to the back doors like you normally do. “What will you do this weekend since you can't do anything fun with your mouth?” You ask and he chuckles then writes again. “That sounded weird.” You read, then laugh softly and lean over a bit to whisper. “Not weird, you just have a dirty mind.” You say and he blushes lightly. “Why do you think I was thinking about something dirty? Maybe is noona who has a dirty mind.” He writes, making you chuckle once again. “Maybe.” You tell him and he bites his lip, playing with his labret as he does so. “Can I have your number?” He writes and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Don't be dirty minded, noona~” He writes again and you chuckle softly. “Weird timing, don't you think? I have the right to be in this case.” You defend yourself and he shrugs as he mischievously smiles, showing you his phone. You scoff but look in your pocket for yours then hand it to him as you grab his phone to save your number and he does the same with his.

-----------Next day at night~

“Hey, are you really sure you can talk already?” You ask as you chuckle as soon as he answers the phone and he chuckles softly too. “Mhm, it hurts but at least it's not that swollen.” He answers, his tone a bit lower than normal since he's probably just lying down. You can slightly tell he can't move his tongue that well yet, but it's cute. “You dummy, if it hurts let's just text.” You say, kinda whining. “But... I can't look at the movie and write at the same time...” He complains and you click your tongue. “Okay.” You say, making him chuckle. “Don't be mad at me noona, I'm really not a multitasker.” You sigh at his words. “Maybe we should just watch alone...” You say and he laughs. “Ahh, whyy?” He's whining but you can tell he's smiling. “Does your tongue hurt too, noona?” He asks and you scoff. “Aish, whateverr, just play the movie.” You say as you chuckle and he chuckles too. “Mhm~ I'll start the countdown.”

1:30am

“Ah, seriously, the kid was too cute.” He says and you smile. “Mhm~ Ugh but I ended up crying a little.” You confess and he gasps. “No, but me too! It can't be helped with this movie, noona.” He says, making you chuckle softly. “Ah, seriously. Tears were running down my face, I didn't want to say anything though.” He confesses and you laugh. “So you're telling me that we were both suddenly so quiet while watching and neither of us noticed the other one was secretly crying?” You ask, chuckling and he chuckles too. “Yeah.”

3:23am

“Noona, did you fall asleep?” Jisung asks, whispering, and you whine softly. “Maybe.” You say, making him chuckle. "Was my story about what happened with that mean girl's post and my friends too much?" He asks and you scoff. “Of course not... Your voice is just too soothing Jisung-ah.” You kinda whine again “Ah, really? Is that a problem?” He asks and you giggle. “Yeah, I wanna be awake so I can keep listening to y-... Ah... I'm sleepy-drunk talking.” You say and he scoffs. “Cute.” He says in a quiet voice. “I heard that.” You point out, making him chuckle softly. “Mhm~” He says, making your heart flutter a little. You scoff as you smile then sigh and bite your lower lip before talking again. “You're cute too.”

3:45am

“Are you falling asleep now?” You ask chuckling softly, and he does too after a second. “Yeah...” He admits. “Well, I'll tell you about my new tattoo design some other time then.” You say and he pouts even if you can't see him. “You can tell me now, I'll stay awake.” He says and you chuckle. “It's okay, I'm sleepy too. I've had my eyes closed for a long time now.” You confess as you giggle and he does too. “Me too noona. You're a great story teller~” He says, pulling a smile out of you. “Yeah? You're falling asleep though. I must be boring.” You say and he chuckles. “Noo, I'm just tired from yesterday, noona. I promise. I love your stories, really.” He says. “I want to listen to everything you want to tell me.” He adds, and your heart flutters as you blush. “I see.” You say, chuckling at how cute he is. “Well, sleep well then and I'll tell you about it another day, yeah?” You softly say. “Mhm~ Okay, that's a promise then.. Sleep well noona.”

Chap1🐹....Chap3🐹

20 notes · View notes

bbyyhyuck · 2 years

Text

[ 20:12 PM ] - park jisung

warnings: none

Jisung was live on instagram on a Saturday evening. He was just talking about the dreamies and some other things, when you entered the room.

"Sung, are you still live?" You asked and he nodded. "Yes, but I think I will stop it soon."

"Okay, do you want to eat anything?" you spoke, searching for something in your drawer.

"Nope, Im all good baby." He shaked his head and smiled. "Alright, then Ill be in the living room if you need me. Love you" You smiled and left the room, closing the door.

" I will marry her one day guys, I promised" Jisung said to the people on the live, looking more lovedrunk than ever

#jisung #park jisung #nct jisung #jisung fluff #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #jisung x reader #jisung drabbles #nct #nct dream #nct u #nct imagines #nct reactions

131 notes · View notes

neodreamzenie · 1 year

Text

Imagine

Night Visits p.js

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Wc: 0.2k

Warnings: Adult(-ish) language

It was 3 am and you just woke up from hearing your phone ring. "Hello?" You say, rubbing your eyes. No Answer, so you look at the conatct name which is "..." It's your classmate, who keeps trash talking you everywhere. "Why are you calling?" You asked. "Can you... Maybe come over?" He asks with a raspy voice. "Why would I? Plus it's literally 3." You state. "Please..." "Okay" You say, quickly grabbing something wearable before heading out. You arrive at his house and ring. He opens thedoor, his eyes looking tired. You guys sit down on his couch. "I'm here. What's wrong? What happened?" "Y/n..." He moves, around, so he can face you. "What do I do?" He breathes out a bit heavily. "What do you mean?" You ask curiously. "I... I just can't stop thinking about you." You stop breathing for a second. "All the things I said about you. To you. I can't stop thinking about it. It's just... I wanted to get over my feelings. I want you to touch me, I want you to make me feel good. I wanna be the one making you feel good. I need to hear how good I can make you feel. I need to feel you. I can't help it. Help me..." You observe him before grabbing his face and smashing your lips on to his. You pull back to see his face. "You look so hot, begging for me, Park Jisung."

26 notes · View notes

gamerwoo · 2 years

Text

October Drabble Mashup: Han Jisung

Characters: Jisung x gender neutral reader

Genre/warnings: non idol au, humor, a Watcher reference (Ryan & Shane), mentions of sexting, i think using a ouija board in itself is a warning lmao don’t fuck w them

Word count: 491

Tag list: @minluvly @awkwardnesshabitat @woozarts @septicrebel (if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form!!!)

a/n: part of the october drabble mashup

You didn’t believe in anything. Ghosts, ghouls, cryptids, and the like were all just fake stories to you. Ouija boards also fell under that category.

Jisung, however, believed in everything. He was like the Ryan to your Shane. The smallest things that went bump in the night made him jump 10 feet in the air and scream at a frequency so high that only dogs could hear it.

Like the one he just let out.

You cringed at the shriek Jisung made as he recoiled from the planchette like it had burned him.

“It moved!” he cried.

You sighed, “Yeah, because you aggressively poked it, you freak!”

He pouted at you but said nothing.

“Put your hand back on it,” you told him, putting two of your fingers on the heart-shaped piece of wood.

Hesitantly, Jisung stretched his arm out and placed his first two fingers across from yours. Despite you telling him like, 50 times that your shared apartment was most definitely not haunted so doing this was literally pointless fun, he was still terrified you’d invite some demon into his abode to harass and inevitably kill him.

“Okay,” you let out a deep breath, “is anyone--”

“Babe?”

You glared across the board at your boyfriend, “What?”

“Do you think people like...sext their deceased spouses with these?” he asked.

You continued to just stare at him with an unamused expression, blinking silently.

He also blinked back innocently, waiting for your response.

“Probably not, Jisung,” you finally told him.

“Would you sext me if I die first?” he wondered.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because I’ll be lonely and I’ll miss you!” he whined.

“Jisung, can you control your intrusive thoughts please?” you asked him in exasperation, but it was more like you were telling him to.

He clamped his mouth shut, looking abruptly back down at the board like a scolded child.

You sighed and cleared your throat, “Okay... Is anyone--”

“Would you still love me if I were a ghost?”

Your head snapped straight to Jisung, who was cautiously glancing up at you after asking his stupid question just above a whisper.

“What is wrong with you?” you asked him bluntly.

“It’s an honest question...” he mumbled.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Yes, I would still love you. Now--”

“So why wouldn’t you talk to me with one of these?” he asked with a pout forming on his lips. “You’ll talk to random ghosts but not me?”

Still staring at him, you gently pushed the planchette toward him with your fingers. Jisung let out a shriek so loud that you were shocked your eardrums didn’t shatter, before leaping up from the floor and running down the hallway to lock himself in the bedroom.

You let out a defeated sigh as you lifted your fingers from the planchette, looking down silently at the board for a moment before tilting your head up toward the ceiling.

“Sorry for wasting your time.”

#jisung #han jisung #han #stray kids #han au #han imagine #han scenario #han fic #han x reader #stray kids au #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #jisung au #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #jisung fic #jisung x reader

32 notes · View notes

mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 11.5 - Han Jisung + Masturbation & Exhibition

@whatudowhennooneseesyou Said: Sub!Han+ masturbation+ exhibitionism

A/n: Coming right up ehehehe~

Word Count: 683

Kinktober 2022 Mini Masterlist

Jisung doesn’t know why, but when you told him you wanted to watch, to see exactly what he does to himself when he gets off to the thought of you, his stomach had twisted and his cock had twitched in his pants. The feeling of having your eyes on him, drinking in every movement he makes, every reaction he gives for you and only you, has his head spinning; he’s addicted.

Now, he sits in front of you completely naked, reclining onto the sheets with a hand wrapped around his hard cock. Carefully, he squeezes the base before giving himself a few languid strokes, head leaning back as a moan slips past his lips.

“Tell me, baby boy,” you watch him with dark eyes, and Jisung can feel a shiver run down his spine as your words sink into every fibre of his core, “what are you thinking about?”

Jisung takes only a moment to reply, his breath getting caught in his throat before whimpering out a small, “you.”

“Me?” You hum, the corner of your lips tugging upwards. “What about me?”

“I’m thinking about-“ he hisses through his teeth as he teases the head of his cock with his thumb, “about your hands on me. That you’re the one doing this instead of me.” His free hand moves down to fondle his balls, the palm of the other sliding deliciously along his shaft as he twists his wrist in time with his movements. “Your mouth. The feeling of your lips wrapped around me, your tongue- fuck- your tongue-“

Jisung can hardly finish the thought, another moan escaping him as his eyes flutter shut.

“My tongue stroking along you so delicately? Teasing your head just like your thumb is doing now?” You continue, your ruby red lips stretched knowingly across your teeth.

Fuck, that colour will be the death of him. You knew exactly what you were doing when you decided to wear that shade of lipstick he loves so much tonight. Jisung groans. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Please,” he begs, his thighs tensing as he feels his release building within him.

“Please, what, Darling?” You quirk a brow, leaning back once more in your seat as you watch him with such a heated gaze that Jisung is sure he’s about to combust beneath it.

“Please, please, please,” he’s babbling at this point, he knows it, but he simply doesn’t care. Having you here, eyes on him and drinking in every movement he makes, sets his entire body aflame. He didn’t know he could ever be this turned on, this desperate for you, in his entire life. “Let me come, please. I’ve been a good boy. I’m your good boy. Please, please, please.”

You hum in contemplation, teasingly drawing out your answer as he attempts to hold his release back while he waits for your permission. He’s a good boy, he won’t come unless you let him. He’s your good boy.

Tears of frustration begin to line his eyes as a choked sob escapes his lips. The pressure is almost becoming too much under your stare, the pleasure continuing to build the longer you remain silent. Yet, Jisung revels in the attention. He’ll do anything for you, as long as you keep looking at him like this.

“Come for me, baby,”

Your words are all he needs to hear in order to feel his release hitting him like a tidal wave, tears leaking out of his eyes and echoing the trails of white that soon drip down his stomach with each spurt of his release.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobs, entire body trembling as his hand strokes over his sensitive cock, his chest rising and falling with each erratic breath he takes.

“That felt nice, didn’t it, baby?” you coo, watching as he nods his head enthusiastically while still muttering his thanks to you every chance he gets. “Such a good boy.”

Jisung hums, finally calming down enough to catch his own breath, eyes hooding over as he meets your own intense gaze, “I’m your good boy.”

#jisung scenario #han scenario #han smut #jisung smut #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #kpop au #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kinktober

122 notes · View notes

seungfl0wer · 2 months

Text

*Our Toy*

Paring: OT8 x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (literally just straight porn no real plot)

Warnings: Multiple orgasms, Multiple partners (basically Polly), Restraints, slight degrading, Lots of pet names, Creampie, unprotected sex, face fucking, Double Penetration, oral (both M/F receiving), tit smacks, overstimulation uhm?? I know I definitely probably missed some

Side note wrote this 2 days apart cause of work and I was half asleep for some of it so I hope it came out not jumbled around like it seems in my head.

Kink(s): Free Use + Sharing is caring lol

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

(The highly requested part two is here!)

-🩵

You have basically just become the boys’s fuck toy. What started off as a thought with bangchan ended up with you being free use for the rest of the members. What a good leader right? Letting them have fun with you to ease their stress, i mean in his own words “how can i keep such a beautiful thing like you only for myself?” Is Chan your boyfriend? Yeah. And the others? They basically are too. Are you complaining though? 8 attractive men horning after you wanting all your attention and love?

——————

You were sprawled out on the couch staring blankly at the tv as Felix laid on the other side of you. He had his arms lazily draped around you half watching the tv half asleep. As his eyes flickered open and close you moved yourself feeling yourself falling off the couch. You pushed your body back into the half awake boy, ass pushing firmly against his pelvis. He left out a soft whimper at the feeling, you not meaning it in anyway besides trying to get situated. He kissed your neck sweetly his arms pulling you into him even more as he slowly started to hump you. “Ah- lix” you said voice almost a whisper.

“I’m sorry do you want me to stop?” He asks his voice hazy. You shook your head no making him sigh out of relief. He placed his hands on your hips pushing his ever growing bulge against your clothed ass. His kisses were becoming sloppier as he started to suck at small spots. Both of you letting out barely audible moans at the friction. “Lix” you whimpered becoming needy. He ran his hands over your body, they caressed your breast playing with your nipples. “How do you get me so horny so fast” he whined against your skin.

His words made you giggle a little moving your hips back to meet his movements “same reason you get me soaked so fast” your words made his head reel. He pushed down his pants sprinting his cock free as he pulled yours down just enough to push his cock In. It nestled between your folds as he kept rutting into you. Your slick lubing him up as he moved. “Shit- there’s- there’s no way I’m lasting long.” He whined out. He gripped you tightly as he moved between your soaked lips.

As he slid in bottoming out you heard a door open, jisung rubbing his eyes as he came out for a drink. Felix didn’t stop though he started to move slowly but deeply into you letting out Low groans. Jisung raised an eyebrow, sipping on his drink he made his way to the living room. His eyes lit up seeing the sight below him “shit- you two are hot as fuck.” He smirked. “Lixie you sound like you’re bout ready to bust” he teased the other boy.

“Agh well- yeah she’s so- fuck- fucking warm” he said rolling his head back to look at the boy “she cum yet?” He questioned coming around to the other side. Looking at you both for an answer. “We just- started” you said breathily. Jisung smirk grew “let me help then. I mean Felix is already so close beautiful let me help you cum”

Before he even had an answer from either of you he was pulling down your shorts more. Greeted by the sight of how soaked you were, his band mates cock fucking into you so nicely. Fuck. Fuck did you look so good. He attached his lips to your clit quickly like a hungry animal he started to suck. Your head flung back giving Felix a better angle to kiss your neck. As he pumped harshly into you, the man below you eating you like a feral animal your high was approaching fast. “Jisung she’s close- god her pretty pussy is clenching so tightly around me- fucking hell she’s gonna milk me good.”

Jisung groaned hearing this moving his hand down to pump his own member as he kept giving your clit all the attention it needed. Felix pounding sloppily now into you as his high was close too. The scene unfolding was straight out of some porno. “Cu- fuck I’m cuming!” You practically screamed out cuming all over Felix’s cock as Jisung lapped up as much of your juices as he could. Felix was quick behind you as he reached his high fast feeling your warmth coat his cock as your walls clenched tightly around him. He came deep inside of you his body stuttering.

Jisung continued to suck at your overly sensitive clit before moving himself “want to stay in with me lix?” He asked the boy who was breathing heavily behind you. “Fuck yeah” he panted. He moved you a bit trying to keep Felix buried deep in you. As he got you positioned he let his cock rub against you spiting on his tip before meeting it at your entrance. Your head was spinning with so much pleasure and of course you weren’t gonna protest. He pushed into you slowly all three of you moaning out.

The feeling of Felix still inside of you, him being limp now but the extra girth driving you insane. Jisungs movements were fast and deep pushing around Felix’s cum with every thrust. “You two are so fucked out it’s so cute” he said his voice a bit shaky. “Y/n fuck you feel so good” he whined out. Felix brought his hand up to play with your clit as jisung leaned down to kiss you sloppily. His tongue instantly darting into your mouth as he sucked your lip between his teeth. Biting it ever so gently. “Jisung!” You moaned into his mouth. Your hands flung around him nails digging into his back.

“Feel good?” He said between kissed. You nod yes as he continued “gon cum on my cock next beautiful? Please- let me feel it” he moaned out letting his body fall to yours as his thrust were becoming erratic. “Ji- close ah just like that. Felix don’t stop” you barked out at the feeling. Body shaking intensely as your high crashed over your walls now clenching around both of the men. Jisungs body stuttered at the feeling dumping all his cum deep inside of you. It mixing with Felix’s and your owns.

Felix went to grab a rag to help you get all cleaned up the 3 of you sitting there heads still reeling. “How about I order some food?” Felix offers. You nod slowly laying your head down on Jisungs shoulder. “Food sounds perfect.” You said eyes half awake.

——————

Sitting in the kitchen arguing back and forth with Minho you rolled your eyes at him. “Oh whatever” you say getting up to walk out before he’s pinning you against the wall. “Excuse me?” He said eyebrows furrowed looking at you. “Is that how you talk to me now hmm? Has it been that long since I’ve punished you?” He spat brining his hand up to your face to make you look at him. You choked out a small “I” before he was pulling you down to the guest room.

He pushed you to the bed back hitting the soft mattress as he rummaged for something. Your eyes widened as you saw him pulling out the restraints. “Minho- I’m sorry” you stutter out “to late kitten” he said with a smirk “gonna ruin you till you remember who you’re talking too” he said restraining your limbs. He pull down your pants, ripping your shirt off before getting on top of you. He had already pulled his pants down you not realizing it until his cock was staring right at you.

“Open that brat mouth!” He growled making you whimper but quickly doing as he said. He gave you no mercy pushing all his length into you. He roughly fucked your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around his him making him chuckle “you can take it all I know you can kitten” he coo’d. He thrusted in and out of your mouth drool falling down your chin. “Fuck- there’s my kitten” he said in a low groan. His head fell back as he used your mouth mercilessly he could feel his high coming but he didn’t wanna cum just yet. Not before he could burry his cock deep into you.

He pulled out of your mouth with a popping sound, positioning himself at your entrance he looked up at you with hooded eyes. Seeing your face covered in drool made him smirk “such a messy kitten.” He said wiping it away. As he did so he slid his cock ever so slowly into you, hitting deep. He almost always could find the right angel to hit your G-spot. He started to fuck you sloppily knowing his high was already close. He slapped your breast slightly leaving a nice red print before he moved his hand to your throat.

You moaned at the pain, it feeling so pleasurable to you. Your walls clenched around him making him grunt in response “ah kitten gonna cum already?” He teased when you didn’t respond he let another smack to your breast. “I asked you a question” he growled out “uh fuck- yes m’sorry” you replied quickly this time. “Who says you’re allowed to?” He grinned that devilish bunny grin before drilling you hard. Your head was so empty at this point “p-lease” you cried out feeling yourself reaching your high.

He thrusted in a few more times before spilling his cum deep inside of you. His thrusts almost all but stopped making you whine. “Awe did kitten not get to cum? Maybe next time you’ll think twice about picking an argument with me.” He stated as he pulled out of you. The emptiness leaving you a whinny mess “no please-“ you cry out a pout plastering your face. “Don’t worry someone will come help you.” He said as he snapped a picture of you sending it to the group chat titled: Free Use.

“Maybe I’ll come get you when they’re done” he said as he shut the lights off closing the door behind him. You were so frustrated at this point pulling at the straps. A few minutes had passed before you heard someone enter the room it was hyunjin coming to see you. “Hey there my love” he hummed looking over your body. “Whatcha do to make Minho do this?” He said teasing you, he quickly leaned down to kiss your soft lips. “He said I was giving him attitude.”You pouted.

“He’s probably right you do, do that a lot” he chuckled kissing you again “he didn’t let you cum did he?” He asked now making his way to your heated core. You shook your head no looking as the man moved “ah want me to help you love?” He said his voice soft. You nod “please” your voice barely audible at this point. He smiled unzipping his pants he had on, discarding them somewhere in the room. “Gonna help me cum too?” He said softly as he ran the cock head up and down your still soaked folds. “Y-yes” you stuttered out.

“That’s my girl” he said getting his body underneath of you. He angled himself just right before pushing up into you. His arms wrapped around your body pulling you as close as possible before fucking you like som horny rabbit. “Ah hyune” you moaned out his body already twitching at the feeling. “Shit- the picture he sent out was so fucking hot-“ he said pulling you into a sloppy make out session. “I could- could have came just at the sight- fuck y/n you’re so fucking hot” he moaned out his words running together.

He moved his hands down to your chest playing with your nipples as he sucked one breast. Hyunjin was always so passionate and loving during sex. When situations were like this though? He was extra loving. His goals was always to just please you, make you cum first and then finish himself. Normally when you came is when he was letting himself go.

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss pulling your bottom lip between his teeth with a soft bite. “God- y/n I can’t get over how perfect you are” he said through breaths. He ran a hand down to your clit now making perfect circles as he thrusted sloppily into you. He bottomed out hitting your g-spot swiftly. You both let out sinful moans, the sounds of you both filled the room in such harmony. “Gon cum on my cock pretty? Gon make a mess?”

You nod yes your mind completely and utterly (and literally) fucked. Your mind was so blank from the pleasure and over stimulation your body shook. “That’s it my love cum all over me, I’ll fill this cunt in return hm?” He rambled. He leaned back a bit as he watched you take his cock in and out so nicely. His high coming fast as he felt your walls clench around him. “That’s it- fuck yes- cum for me baby” he groaned.

Your head flung back finally getting the release you so desperately needed. Gushing around his cock he spilled deep into you filling you with all of his. He wrapped his arms around you kissing you lovingly. “You ok love?” He asked trying to still catch his breath. “Mhm” you nodded giving his cheek a soft peck. The door cracked open “she still in there?” A familiar voice asked “I don’t know dude go in and check.” Another voice said. Hyunjin chuckled a bit “I think you have some more hungry men coming for you.”

As moved away from you, your head still in the clouds from him he kissed your forehead. “I’ll tell them to go easy” he said sweetly chuckling as he opened the door “be gentle guys” he said patting the two younger boys. “I will I don’t know about this freak though” Jeongin laughed poking at Seungmin.

“Look at what that bratty little mouth gets you into” Seungmin laughed looking down at you. “Maybe this was her plan?” Jeongin added. The other boy shrugged at his words “probably she’s a little whore” he said leaning down to you. “Didn’t ask Minho about the restraints?” He added. Jeongin nodded “yeah, he said to let her off but to make sure she’s ruined first” he grinned.

Jeongin went to untie your legs Seungmin having other ideas first. He dropped his pants straddling your chest like Minho had before. “Open up pup I got you a bone” he chuckled at his words. Your mind was still in space your mouth opening out of reflex. “Good girl” he said pushing the tip into your mouth. “Don’t you wanna untie her hands first?” Jeongin asked looking up at the other man. He shook his head quickly “no she can keep her hands tied until I have my fun”

Seungmin was using your mouth, fucking into you not as rough as Minho but just about. He was hitting the back of your throat precum dripping from it. He took your head pushing it roughly as he fucked into you. Jeongin on the other hand was leaving sweet kisses to your thighs as he pulled his own pants down. He grinned his cock up and down your folds “you’re such a mess baby, you’ve taken what 2 loads already? You really are gonna be full.” He said his eyes half open.

“By the time we are done she’s gonna be gushing with all of our cum.” He hissed. You moaned against his cock eyes fluttering open and close. The three of you letting out soft moans and grunts. Jeongin started to play with your clit making your back arch and legs shake a bit. You were so overstimulated already you didn’t know if you could take it anymore. “Fuck you’re taking my cock so well such a good little pup hm?” He said sliding his hand down your neck and back up.

“I can’t hold out any longer dude” Jeongin said as he pushed himself into you. You let out a muffled moan around seungmins cock making the man’s head fall backwards in pleasure. “Fuck-“ he spat out. Jeongins movements were fast and sloppy. His thrusts spilling the others’s cum out of you. The sound of his ball slapping your wet cunt filled the air. You were getting used so well.

“Ah fuck baby you’re so fucking wet” jeongin moaned out. “Yeah she likes being out little fuck toy huh? Like us using all your holes like this? Filthy little mutt” Seungmin babble on. You could only reply with a moan in confirmation. When people say your mind goes blank from pleasure this is what they mean. Your head was so empty only thoughts of them. “Fuck dude I’m close, let’s switch” Seungmin asked pulling out of your mouth. Drool ran down your chin, lips swollen from all the abuse to your mouth.

Jeongin nodded switching spots with the other man. Jeongin wiped the drool from you kissing your forehead softly. He removed your hand restrains letting your them fall to your sides. “Wanna open for me baby?” He coo’d. You were about to nod but Seungmin had mercilessly pushed deep into you fast. Bottoming out quick as he hit the back of your walls. Hit cock head hitting your g-spot as he pushed in and out of you. You left out the most desperate whine making jeongin smirk. “Give me your hands baby I’ll keep you here.”

Jeongin interlocked your fingers together as he pushed the tip into your mouth. He let you take your time with him knowing you were already through the wringer today. “My sweet baby, you’re doing so well” he praised you letting go of one of your hands to wipe away a hair.

Seungmin was in his own little world right now as he fucked brain dead into you. He was going stupid, pounding deep into you. “Shit- you gonna cum? You’re clenching so much around me fuck- gonna- agh- not gonna-“ seungmins words ran together as his high was at its peak. “Your pussy is sucking me so good. My dirty little pup gonna take all my cum?” He said tongue hanging out. He started to leave circles on your throbbing clit making your body jolt. As it did you took all of jeongin into your mouth deep. “Ah- fuck-“ he groaned out.

“Y/n!” Seungmin almost screamed out as he dumped all his cum inside of you. You could feel his ball releasing all of him inside of you. “Shit- I’m close” Jeongin said as he listened to you moaning from the feeling of being stuffed again. “Dude I don’t think I can move” Seungmin said his chest heaving. Jeongin nodded pushing in and out of your mouth a bit rougher now chasing his own high. “Fuck- listen keep playing with that perfect clit.” Jeongin demanded which Seungmin happily obliged.

You could feel yourself coming undone and in a matter of seconds your high was crashing around you yet again. This time it was more intense. Your body shook eyes pricked with tears as Jeongin came half way in your mouth the other half on your chest. “Shi- I’m sorry” he mumbled out. All three of you were panting trying to catch your breath. Minho had come to knock on the door “alright guys let y/n have a break” he said softly standing in the doorway now. Jeongin went to grab you a towel as seungmin wrapped his arms around you.

He peppered small kisses to your shoulder “such a good girl, you’re such a good girl” he repeated trying to sooth you from your high. After getting cleaned up and everything the boys laid beside you curled up into their arms. Minho smiled at the scene pulling the covers over you all kissing your head softly. “Get some rest kitten”

——————

You had surprised Chan at the studio with some of his favorite food. You both sat and chatted while you devoured the delicious food. “Chan you still here?” A voice asked as the door opened. “Oh hey y/n! Wait! You brought food and didn’t ask me to come down” he whined. Chan and you both chuckled “don’t be silly Binnie I brought you some too!” You said pulling a bag from the side. “I figured you were here” you said smiling passing him the bag. The three of you sat and chatted before the two men went about their work.

You sat there on your phone just scrolling until you saw something pop up. You giggled a little sending it to Chan who looked at it right away. He turned around with a shit eating grin “first why is this popping up for you and two come take your place princess.” Chan moved his chair back placing one of the hoodies he has draped over the other chair on the floor. Changbin tilted his head “what are you doing?” He asked curiously. Chan doesn’t say anything just shows him the picture. It’s a picture of someone on their knees under the desk with a massive cock in their mouth as the man above does work. The caption reads: Two Kinds of work loads.

Changbin shook his head chuckling a bit. “Y/n sometimes I think your sex drive can out match all of us” he laughed harder. You roll your eyes “so you’re saying you don’t want me to do it to you too?” You said teasingly. He coughed his words getting stuck in his throat “I- that’s not what I said” Chan laughed this time pointing at the other man “you got him all flustered y/n”

You got into position under the desk Chan having his pants down just enough for you to get to his half harden cock. You gulped back saliva your moth watering at the sight. “All mine” you said giving his head soft kisses. “All yours princess” he coo’d back at you. You slowly started to take his length as he tried to focus on working. Changbin had moved his chair close to you looking down at you with hooded eyes. You smiled letting your free hand lay on his bulge that was growing in his pants.

A few minutes went by Bins aching cock tight in his pants. He moved your hand softly to the side before pulling his joggers down his thick cock sprung out dripping with precum already. You moved from sucking Chan to sucking Bin letting your hand play with Chans long veiny cock. Both of the sexy men above you let out small grunts and groans as you had your fun below the table. A bit into this switching back and forth you were back at Chan. His hands reached down pulling your head fully down his cock, making you gag.

He let out the most sinful noise, your already dripping core clenching around nothing at the sound of him. You looked up at him eyes glassed over. He smiled down at you “c’mere princess let me make you feel good.” He said bringing you up as he cupped your face “lay on the couch” he said fondly as he stripped you of your bottoms. He licked his lips as he started down at your core dripping with arousal. “Shit-“ he let out softly before diving into your dripping cunt. He sucked harshly at your clit pushing 2 fingers into you.

He pumped his arm into slowly but deeply, arching his fingers in you hitting all your sweet spots. You left out sweet moans gripping onto his head. You looked over at the other man who was sitting there mouth open as he jerked himself off. “Bin- c’mere” you said voice hot. It took him a moment to realize what you had said before quickly getting up. He kneeled beside you “yes bunny?” He asked sweetly. You open your mouth slightly looking up at him with puppy dog eyes “wanna make you feel good”

Bin was slowly fucking your mouth, he was so gentle and tender as he did so. While he was doing that Chan was getting pussy drunk. He was devouring every inch of your body trembling under him. You pulled away from bin for only a second “close” you groaned out. Chan picked up his pace fucking his hand into you more as he felt your walls clench around them. You gripped onto bins hands making him melt into you as you came undone.

Bin sat on the couch holding you up as he moved you on top of him. His cock poking at your entrance, Chan also positioned himself about you. “Princess if you can’t take us both you tell me ok?” Chan said softly looking down at you. You nodded yes in agreement, you’ve done this before but with a different smaller member. Bin was really girth and putting it together with Chan long cock was, well let’s just say an automatic orgasm.

Bin pushed into you first moving a bit before Chan joined in. Both cocked filled your pussy so full. So so full. “Fucking hell” you moaned out grabbing onto Chan quickly. After they gave you some time to settle that was it. All three of you were so desperate, searching for you won highs as you fucked. The sounds of you pussy being violated like this were hot but not hotter that the sounds of the two men. God. Was it hot. They fucked into you good and deep hitting your g-spot stretching your hole.

You felt your body getting tight again feeling those wires about to snap once more. Your pussy gripped around them so tightly making them moan in response. “Y/n ah fuck close” bin babbled “gonna fill you” he said holding onto you tightly. Chan wasn’t doing much better every movement brought him closer and closers. His body shaking as he pushed deep into you. “Y/n- fuck I love you augh princess I love you so much.” He said with a long groan.

Chan brought down his hand to play with your clit as changbin started to play with your breast. At the stimulation you gasped nails digging into Chans back. Your body shook hard as those wires broke one by one. “Cuming!” You almost screamed out creaming around both of their cocks. The feeling making changbin buck his hips one more time before spilling inside you. Chan road out your high as his crashed, his cock twitching as he dumped himself into.

Changbins muscles gave out as you all tumbled to the couch. You all sat there panting, you feeling all the cum drip down your leg. “Here- princess” Chan breathed out taking tissues to clean you up. “My pretty bunny” bin said kissing your neck. “She did so well hmm?” He asked looking at Chan “she did so very well” he said kissing you cheek.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

3K notes · View notes

forlix · 9 months

Text

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date.

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it exceptionally funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

jisung turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and jisung look at each other and sigh. jisung takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice: “you might be the sexiest person on earth."

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck.

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence.

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips.

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade.

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

7K notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 11 months

Text

pairing: jisung x 8th member!gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: nightmare comfort word count: 598

includes: reader is implied to be shorter than jisung, idk if jisung still sleeps on the couch or not but just go with it, written with male reader in mind

a/n: still debating whether or not i want to start writing for dream so until i make up my mind enjoy a fluffy jisung drabble bc i'm in love with him <33

it feels like a weight has been pressed against your chest. the air has been forced out of your lungs, leaving you desperately gasping for air when you’re finally released from the monsters plaguing your own head. a thin layer of sweat covers most of your skin - a physical reminder of the discomfort that still lingers.

you push the covers off of your body before glancing over at where renjun is still peacefully sleeping on the bed across from you. the familiar sight brings you a small amount of comfort, though you find yourself longing for something else. someone else.

the floor feels cool against your bare feet as you swing your legs off of the side of the bed. you shake off the last of your doubts as you stand up, quietly making your way over to your bedroom door and disappearing from the room.

the trek through your hallway is a short one. you run your fingers along the wall beside you as you carefully make your way through the dorm, careful not to trip on anything that could be unexpectedly in your path.

you find jisung laying on the couch, wrapped up in a thick blanket. despite his overly long limbs being curled up slightly to accommodate for the small amount of space, his limbs sometimes slip off of the edges.

he stirs when you softly chuckle at the sight, rolling over to flip onto his side. “y/n?” jisung mumbles. blinking up at you through tired eyes he watches as you cautiously take another step across the hardwood floor in his direction. your steps are feather-light - almost as if you’re worried of disturbing him from his rest.

jisung props himself up on his elbow, squinting at you in the darkness. despite the dim lighting, he can recognize the loose fit of a t-shirt you must’ve stolen from him.

“come here,” he gestures. the blanket that had previously been wrapped around his body pools around his lap as he outstretches his arms towards you. catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you quickly make your way over to the couch. jisung shifts to the side before all but pulling you down so you’re sitting down on the cushions beside him.

his hands feel warm against your skin as jisung brushes his fingertips against your cheek. you coil into his touch, eyes fluttering shut at the desperately needed comfort. “what’s wrong?” he whispers. his voice has dropped dramatically, barely audible despite the silence.

“nothing. just a… stupid nightmare.”

a slight frown tugs at the corners of jisung’s lips. he reaches out with his left hand, gently tugging your body even closer towards him. you’re quick to reciprocate, wrapping your own arms around his waist and leaning your head against his shoulder.

you can feel the hesitation in each of jisung’s movements as he cautiously begins to rub a comforting hand against your back. you find yourself chasing after his warmth almost unconsciously - chasing after the safety that always seems to come with being wrapped up in his arms.

a few comfortable minutes of silence pass before jisung speaks again. his voice is soft as it cuts through the quiet - the words quietly mumbled into the crook of your neck. “do you want to talk about it?”

“no,” you murmur, relaxing further against his touch. sleepiness slowly begins to creep up on you once again as your eyes slowly begin to flutter closed. “just wanna stay with you. if that’s okay.”

“of course it is,” he smiles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your forehead.

if you want to support me please consider leaving a like, comment, or rebloging !! and if you enjoyed this fic check out my txt or enha works :))

264 notes · View notes

baby-yongbok · 6 months

Text

Boyfriend SKZ!Fake Texts - They have a wet dream about you

Genre: Smut, fairly detailed. Like, its dirty

Warnings: mentions of unprotected sex (wear a rubber, yall), breeding (? - if you squint and only for Jeongin's), Jeongin is a tad bit possessive, It gets more dirty the further you get.

✧ Masterlist ✧

Chan

Lee Know/Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

5K notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 7 months

Text

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.

3K notes · View notes