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pairing: đđ˝đśđąđ˛đżđşđŽđť han jisung x đąđ˛đŽđąđ˝đźđźđš lee minho x f!reader
content: rom-com, heroes and vigilant, love triangle into a poly relationship, delicate topics (su!cide, PTSD), mafia mentioned.
summary: You never forgot the antihero, Deadpool, for taking your father away from you. You never forgot the hero, Spider-Man, for saving your life from a suicide attempt. You forgive, but you never forget.
warnings: mentioning of guns and weapons, blood, reader has some PTSD, minho calls reader pet names. reader talks about her suicide thoughts so, if this trigger you do not read it, mafia mentioned.
words: 18.1k
 áŻáĄŁđŠă ( masterlist ) .

NSFW warnings: fingering (f receiving), nipple playing, double penetration, breeding kink. I think it's all.
There are two types of people in the world: those who support heroes and those who believe they only bring chaos to the city.
You donât belong to either category. You donât care about heroes. Your life in a tiny apartment in Manhattan has never changed because of them. Your small pizza restaurant in one of the quietest neighborhoods of New York hasnât thrived thanks to them, either.
Youâre just there, waiting for the big event in your life. Until then? You spend your time listening to cheap music from your dadâs old radio.
âY/n, vieni qua, câè gente!â Your fatherâs voice snaps you out of your daze. His strong Italian accent interrupts the music, and you pull your headphones off. The song still plays on your phone, but you donât have time to stop it. You have to get back to work.
Your family runs a small business. Your father works in the kitchenâmaking pizzas with the authentic recipe from Italy. Your mother, on the other hand, prepares traditional desserts like tiramisĂš, panna cotta, and even gelato. Your grandmother spends the whole day in the same spot, wrapped in her purple shawl, glasses slipping down her nose, eyes fixed on a Hispanic soap opera while working on her puzzle book.
You work as a cashier, helping out when you're not at university. You got into a very expensive school, full of people whoâve been spoiled their entire lives. You, on the other hand, learned the meaning of money differently.
Your grandmother came to the U.S. when she had just turned 25. In one hand, she held a suitcase; in the other, her dreams. She learned English from scratch, juggling three part-time jobs, while your grandfather worked two more. It was a simple, chaotic, but happy lifeâuntil your grandfather passed away, leaving your father the small business they had built from the few pennies they had managed to save.
Youâve never really understood why your grandparents bought a place so far from Little Italyâcloser to Times Square than the other famous Italian restaurants. Every time you ask your grandmother, she simply shrugs and says, âYour nonno was really stubborn.â
Your grandfather truly believed it was the best optionâa small place for a sliced pizza business with an apartment included. It had just enough room for you and the rest of your family.
You know the place isnât very successful. There are only a few regulars, just enough to scrape by and cover the end-of-month expenses. You also know you canât ask for too much, and that your college grades must remain impeccable to keep your scholarship. Every day, you think about how lucky other people seemânot that you know their stories, but just hearing someone casually say during a lecture, âLetâs go to karaoke after this,â makes you jealous.
Youâre not popular, and youâre definitely not rich. Thatâs cut down a lot of your social lifeâbut not enough to leave you completely friendless.
As you step out the back of the restaurant and head to the cashier spot, you spot your best friend with a huge grin on her face, waving at you.
âYo mama is fine as hell.â
You canât help but laugh. Her obsession with milfsâand girls in generalâalways manages to lift your mood. Holding your stomach from laughing, you tease, and she laughs along with you.
âWhat are you looking for today?â you ask.
âSome girls to kiss. Wanna be the next one?â
Her cheeky pick-up lines never fail to make you smile. You start punching in the price for two slices of pizza.
âItâs three dollars.â She sighs dramatically as she pulls out her wallet from her expensive bag. âIf I really have to.â
You chuckle as you grab the three banknotes from her hand. Her smile makes you smile. And for a moment, youâre truly happy. No worries. No thoughts. Just peace. For a single second, your life doesnât feel as miserable as you usually think it is.
Until.
Until you hear screaming. Until you hear glass shattering. Until you see the terror on the faces of the people you love. You never imagined how quickly life could changeâhow everything could shift in just a matter of seconds. That is, until you see a figure in a dark red costume, weapons strapped to his back, and a gun in his hand.
Youâre not a huge nerd, but even you recognize that costume. It belongs to only one person. Deadpool.
Heâs not a hero. Heâs not a villain. He defines himself to the police as a âcleaner of other peopleâs shit.â Basically, a hitmanâone who doesnât kill unless heâs forced to by whoeverâs paying him.
And now, as you crouch behind the counter, your heart pounding so hard it feels like itâs about to explode, your hands shaking and your ears buzzing with the rush of blood⌠you pray. You pray heâs made a mistake. That heâs in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But heâs not. Heâs pointing his gun toward the kitchen. Your blood feels like it stops flowing. A chill floods your body. The atmosphere is so heavy, so dark, you can only curl tighter under the counter, paralyzed with fear.
âNo! Please!â Your motherâs voice jerks you back into reality. You rise from your hiding spot. Your best friend is helping your grandmother, whoâs fallen from her chair. Your eyes burn with tears, but you fight them back. Thereâs no time for that now. Before you can even take a step toward the kitchen, a shotgun blasts through the airâ Piercing the screams.
Silencing everything. You never thought silence could feel so terrifying. You run into the kitchen.
Your mother is on the floor, sobbing. Your father is moaning in pain, a chest wound bleeding out across the tiled floor. And thereâs Deadpoolâcalmly wiping his gun with the towel your mother usually keeps folded neatly on the counter. The tears spill freely now, anger rising like a fire inside you.
âI didnât kill him,â the antihero mutters, walking past you as if nothing just happened. His mask is lifted just enough to reveal his mouth as he chews on a slice of pizza. âEasy, blondie.â
The sound of police sirens begins to echo in the distance, growing louder as they approach the scene of chaos. It's only a matter of timeâand you pray for every second. The floor is littered with shards of glass from the shattered windows. Chairs and tables are overturned. The TV your grandmother usually watches during the day lies face-down on the ground. Somehow, it's still working. The screen flickers with an image of news reporters gathered just outside your familyâs restaurant. Without warning, Deadpool hurls one of his katanas across the room. It strikes the TV dead center, perfectly shattering the screen.
âDamn, I always hated reporters,â he mutters.
His voice is deepâso deep it sends a chill crawling up your spine. You instinctively take a step closer, but stop instantly. One of his guns is now aimed directly at your forehead.
You freeze. The chewing sound of his pizza is the only noise cutting through the room, aside from your dadâs pained groans and your motherâs quiet sobs. âDonât step too close, blondie,â he warns. âYouâll get hurt trying to dance with evil.â
Your breath catches in your throat as he turns his head toward you. Youâre frozen in place, barely able to get the words out. âWhy did you do this?â you whisper. âWhy us?â
Your voice shakes. He steps closer, too close for you to focus properly on his face. His cologne hits your sensesâsharp, cold, almost metallic. âI just follow the work, sweet thing,â he replies flatly. âGrow up with that.â
His tone is harsh, and it makes you tremble from head to toe. Before you can catch a glimpse of his eyes, his mask drops again, covering the lower half of his face. His voice switches back to something oddly playful just as the police storm in, guns raised. The windows are blown open, letting the spring wind drift in and stir the dust on the floor.
That was the first time you ever met Deadpool.
-
Lee Minho feels like heavy rain. The kind of heavy rain that comes after a thunderstormâsummer rain that seeps into your bones, soaking your clothes until they cling to your skin, drenching your shoes, and plastering your hair to your neck. That kind of rain.
You donât know if itâs because of his charm, or the fact that he never lets anyone get too close, but something about him draws you in. From your very first day at university, your eyes betrayed you by constantly seeking him out, lingering on his features. You donât even know what his voice sounds like, or what color his eyes are. Heâs the kind of guy you instinctively look for in a crowded, noisy room.
That copper-red hair, always poking out from under his hoodie, and that worn backpack slung over one shoulderâhe walks the corridors like he doesnât owe anyone a glance. He never makes eye contact. You donât even understand why he goes to a place like this. Itâs hard to imagine him as a spoiled rich kid. Maybe thatâs part of the reason you find him so intriguing.
No one really knows how he affords a university like this one. The only thing you're certain of is that Minho doesnât care about his gradesâbecause heâs too smart to need to. He walks out of class when heâs bored, and the professors never stop him. Heâs that geniusâthe one everyone accepts is on another level. No one ever beats him in tests or assignments. He always turns things in on time, always perfect. So perfect itâs almost annoying.
At least, thatâs what you used to think.
Now, after your father was arrested, you canât even sit through a lecture without your skin prickling at the sight of the windowsâalways waiting for them to shatter like they did that day. Your usual seat is right next to one of them, where your desk is still covered in little scribbled drawings. But not today.
Today, that seat is already takenâby Lee Minho.
You feel your cheeks flush. Thatâs your seat. Everyone knows it.
âExcuse me?â you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. The boy is scribbling something in his notebook, eyes down, spinning a pen between his fingers. He doesnât even glance up.
âSorry, uhâŚ?â Minho sighs. Youâre still standing beside the desk, not moving away. He lets out a slow breath before finally turning his head toward you.
Itâs the first time you see his eyesâdark brown. And suddenly, the image of heavy rain from that first day resurfaces. Thatâs exactly what his eyes look like.
Cold.
His voice cuts through the silence. âWhat?â
"Thatâs my spot," you say, pointing lightly at the desk where his things are already spread out. Minho doesnât like moving around once he finds his placeâitâs like heâs a cat, settling into his favorite angle of the room.
"No, itâs mine."
The entire conversation feels so childish that you almost canât bring yourself to argue.
Your cheeks warm as his voice comes out firm, making you trip over your words. You turn on your heel and start to walk toward another table, part of you feeling a strange sense of relief. Your usual spot is right by the window, and being that close to one would make you panic. But of course, Minho doesnât know that. Or at least, thatâs what you think.
For the entire week, Minho took your spot. You didnât know why, and heâs not the type to get close to anyone, so you couldnât ask him. You just⌠accepted it. Who were you to tell him what to do?
Every morningâthough you werenât sure exactly when it startedâyou passed by to greet him, leaving a jug of juice that you bought from the vending machine. No one had ever approached him like this before. You knew you werenât special, but you felt pleased when Minho smiled after about ten seconds of you leaving the juice on the table, his lips raising just at the corners. That little gesture made you feel good.
Then, the following Monday, Minho wasnât there. Heâs never late, which made you worry. Not that you were friends or anything more, but a situation had formed where you felt a duty to⌠understand, to know why he wasnât there.
âDo you know where Minho is?â you murmured to your friends, who were engrossed in a conversation about the latest assignment that was hell on earth. You had your head in your hands, your eyes scanning the room for one person and one person only.
âY/N, why are you so interested in him?â
Your expression is pure surprise as you look up at your friend. âMe? Uh, no reason.â You canât lie when your cheeks are getting red just thinking about the man who has taken up residence in your mind.
âYou keep asking about him today! And murmuring stuff, do you have a crush on him?â
Their sudden questions make you retreat into your thoughts. Is it really like that? Youâre not sure; youâve never named what you feel for Minho before. You just⌠let it happen. You canât control your feelings.
You hear the door slam against the wall, shaking the windows. It makes you flinch.
Minho enters the room, and thereâs a brief silence. No one says a word. His face is covered in woundsâsplit lip, cut above his eyebrow. You feel dizzy just looking at him.
âWhat do you have to look at?â he spits out, as if surprised that everyone is paying attention to him now. No one ever has before.
But heâs hurt, and you canât stand it. You canât stand seeing anyone hurt, especially someone you care about, even if you havenât fully acknowledged that yet. You almost jump out of your seat, making a loud screeching sound as the chair drags across the floor, drawing everyoneâs attention. Your friends murmur something to try and convince you to sit back down, but you canât.
Your eyes are locked on him.
You see the surprise in his expression when you stand up for him, but he doesnât move a muscle. He knows that you care, more than everyone else does. You walk toward him, the only sound in the room is the soft thudding of your shoes on the floor. Your mind keeps whispering: Donât do it. Donât do it. Donât do it. Youâve never skipped a class. Youâve always been the perfect student. But⌠oh, screw it.
You grab Minhoâs hand, and he hisses at the feeling of your skin against his. His hand feels almost burning hot, and his cheeks flush red, but he wonât admit it. He doesnât pull away.
You walk out of the class, his eyes on you the whole time, and you feel so stupid right now.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â he mumbles, tightening his grip on your hand, but not letting you go.
You take him to the nursing room, opening the door and guiding him to one of the beds. âLet me take a look,â you insist, but when you try to pull away, his hand stays firmly holding yours. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to steady yourself, his thumb brushing gently against your knuckles.
He lets you grab some bandages and disinfectant, and you start to carefully tend to the cut on his lip. You stand right in front of him, and he moves his thighs apart to give you more room. His hands continue to play with the edge of your skirt, making your whole body tremble.
You canât stop yourself from crying at the sight of his injuries. Your hands touch his face with the utmost gentleness, surprising even him.
Minho chuckles, his eyes softening as he looks down at you. âWhy are you crying, blondie?â
The nickname makes you chuckle, even as your cheeks flush. Heâs not the first to call you that, but you wonder if heâs the last.
âNothing. I⌠I donât like it when people I care about get hurt,â you sniffle, and he stays silent, his face unreadable as always.
âWhat happened, if I can ask?â he finally says, his voice soft. For the first time, Minho seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, and you let your thoughts spill out.
âTwo months ago, my dadâs business got attacked by a hero. He stabbed my father and then just left, letting him go with the police. Turns out, he had some sort of side business with drugs or something. I didnât know, so I donât feel totally okay these last couple weeks.â
Minhoâs chuckle interrupts your words, and you look up at him, confused. His lips curl into a smile, showing his teeth.
âA hero? No hero would do that in such a cool way, princess,â he says, pausing, then noticing your confused expression. âI mean, itâs still horrible, but he took your father for a good reason. I wouldnât call him a hero, though. Pff.â
Minho almost seems pissed off at the way you described Deadpool as a hero, and you canât help but chuckle as you move his jaw gently to check for other cuts.
âYou seem almost like a fan.â
âHe sounds cool. Are you scared of him now?â His voice deepens, making shivers run down your spine. He stops you with his eyes, his hands slowly finding their way to the back of your thighs. âAre you scared, bunny?â
âIâm⌠not.â
âYou sound like you are,â he smirks, and the way he says it makes your stomach do flips. He stands up, and youâre suddenly facing him, though your small height only reaches his chest. Minho walks slowly toward you, and you instinctively move backward until your back hits the wall.
Youâre trapped.
âIâm not scared!â you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut slightly as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. His skin smells faintly like disinfectant. âTurned on then?â
His low giggle makes you whimper under his touch, because you know heâs right. He knows exactly what effect he has on you. He suddenly steps back, making you whine in frustration at the loss of contact.
âWhy are you teasing me like that?â you ask, your voice trembling.
His laugh fills the room, making you blush. Itâs the first time he doesnât look like someone you should be scared of. He just looks like Minho.
âGod, youâre damn cute, bun,â he chuckles.
After that, things between you and Minho changed. He started asking you out more frequently, texting you just to ask if youâd help him with assignments (though you knew it was really an excuse to talk to you). He was completely unaware that you knew his game, and it became so normal that you forgot about everything else when Minho was around. You felt⌠safe.
And, he started feeling safe too. He stopped hiding under his hood, his smile became bigger and more genuineâespecially when you were around. He looked so different now.
He was still your heavy rain, but somehow, you saw him a little more clearly.
One day, as you walked down the hall after your last class, you felt two hands cover your eyes, and you jumped in surprise. Minhoâs chuckle reached your ears, and you blushed under his touch as you gently grabbed his wrists to move his hands away.
âI got you again, bunny.â
âYou always get me, Min,â you chuckled, walking alongside him as his arm draped over your shoulders, his smile just for you.
âWanna grab some dinner together?â he asked.
You sighed, shaking your head. âSorry, have to work with Mom.â
âOh, you guys opened the Pizzeâ?â He stumbled over the words, unsure of how to pronounce it.
You couldnât help but chuckle. âItâs Pizzeria, and yes, we did. Itâs hard without my dad, but itâs the best we can do for now.â
Minho nodded, walking beside you, not letting you stray from his side. His phone buzzed, but you were more important right now.
âOkay then, Iâll help.â
âWhat?â
âH-E-L-P, is your Italian mind not working today?â he teased, pressing his finger against your forehead and moving you closer to his chest.
You missed the green light, so you stopped, and Minho leaned in closer, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. His phone buzzed again, and you could feel it against your back.
âYour phone,â you said, trying to move away from his warmth.
âI heard it the first time,â he mumbled, his chin resting on top of your head. The gesture made you blush. âStill donât care about it.â
As you both started walking again, a car honked loudly, and you turned just in time to see a web stop it from crashing into you and Minho.
Minho moved you behind him, shielding you with his body. âAre you okay?â he whispered, holding your shoulders gently as his hands moved up to your cheeks.
Your heart raced as you nodded, still shocked by the sudden near-miss.
That was the first time you ever saw Spider-Man in your life.
Xoxoxo.
When you were a child, people always thought you could be a heroine.
Youâre not sure why. Maybe itâs the way you always find a compromise between two sides, or the way you smile even when it hurts. You never really got it. Whether you had powers or not, the thought of sitting on the edge of a skyscraper, looking at the city as if it were yours, never seemed right.
Because New York was never yours.
You get up here, but it never feels like home. You like the view, but you never loved it. Itâs the same as when you accept your fate and donât try to go beyond it. You adapt easilyâpretty much everywhere.
At university. At work. With your family. With your friends. Everywhere, itâs like you blend in, and sometimes, thatâs good enough to survive. Because thatâs how you are. You jump around, survive, and keep going.
At least thatâs what you do.
You canât imagine yourself as a hero. Not even an antihero or a villain, if that would interest anyone. Youâre just... you. In your easy life that somehow turned chaotic, full of people trying to change it.
Like Han Jisung.
Youâre walking down the hall, your mind scattered because this morning, after you left your house, Minho wasnât there at the gate. He said he was sick, but heâs never sick. His immune system is practically immortal. But you didnât ask questions. You just texted back with a light pout.
[ minho 07:50am ] too early to pout like that bunny.
His text makes you chuckle lightly. He knows you so well that he can picture you pouting like a baby because heâs not there with you. What you donât know is that Deadpool is sitting on top of a skyscraper, swinging his legs over the edge with his phone in hand, watching you walk down the street. He knows exactly what youâre doing because heâs watching you from afar, but... you donât know that.
And that breaks Minhoâs heart a little, because heâs so scared of telling you who he really is. So, he decides to lie for your own good. If people who are against him knew that he cared about someone as much as he cares about you, that would put you in too much danger.
As you walk into the university, Minho sighs deeply, knowing that inside those walls, he canât protect you like he should. It would be too crazy to follow you into the classes dressed in his costume; it would draw too much attention. Even though he likes the attention, he only wants your attention.
Minho stops when he hears a whistle from behind. He glances over his shoulder and instinctively reaches for his gun in the holster. âHey, hey, go easy, Deady,â the voice behind him says, making him groan in annoyance. âHow many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?â
Spider-Man walks up beside him with a toast in his mouth, the mask slightly raised as his blue electric costume catches the older manâs eye. âHow many times do I have to tell you that I donât care?â
Deadpool rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he notices his friend with a backpack. âSo, you go to this university?â
âGood try, Deady, but Iâve gotta go,â Jisung says, faking a flattery with a smirk. He finishes his toast and pulls on his jacket before swinging away with his webs.
Youâre walking down the hall, your headphones in, blasting noisy music that perfectly reflects your morning, when you realize that today marks exactly six months since your father was sent to jail.
Your mind feels blurry. You canât figure out why he did itâwhy he started selling drugs right under your nose at the shop. You never noticed. You never noticed because his smile was always the same, and the money never increased enough to shock you. You never thought something like that could happen to you, to your mother, to your grandmother.
Itâs hard to have a conversation with them now. Your eyes tear up, or your anger tries to cover the gentle tone you want to use with them.Â
Something changed in you that day. Itâs hard to say what, hard to explain why. It just happened. You started sneaking into your room through the window at night, almost like an uninvited guest in your own home. Your mother is always curled up on the couch, a blanket over her body as she tries to get a few hours of sleep between her two jobs.Â
Your grandmother always stares at the little window in the living room.
She doesnât do the crosswords anymore, and youâre too tired to fight about it. Youâre too tired to keep doing the things that once felt normal. Slowly, youâre drowning in your thoughts, buried in a fog that you canât shake off.
Youâre so deep in your head that you donât notice when you bump into someone. You quickly turn, almost tripping over your own feet. âGod, are you okay?â you ask, your eyes wide with surprise.
Jisung immediately grabs your shoulders to steady himself, his face flushed with embarrassment and the adrenaline of the sudden movement. âOh no, no, itâs alright,â he chuckles, offering you a smile. âYouâre quite nimble for a clumsy girl, hm?â
âAm I?â You chuckle, feeling a little shy as you blush. His hands move away from your shoulders, and his posture relaxes, a moment of calm in the bustling hall. He recognizes you immediately. Even though he saves countless people during his workday, your face sticks in his memory like a bright, sunny day. He remembers the way you smiled at him that one time, right before he swung off into the night. It made him feel so alive, like his little secret was worth it. Itâs not such a little secret, but heâs not quite confident about it yet.
âYeah, yeah, you look like it,â he grins lightly, his eyes soft as he looks at you.
You try to catch a hint of awkwardness in his eyes, but his entire presence is so warm and friendly, it makes you feel like you should talk to him more than youâd planned. âDid we ever meet before?â you ask, curiosity lacing your voice.
Jisung shakes his head, blushing as he fights hard to keep his big secret hidden. Heâs not great at lying, and his nerves are making it harder. âI donât think so. But Iâd definitely remember a pretty girl like you.â
Just then, you hear your best friend calling you from the end of the hall. You check the timeâyour class starts in exactly two minutes. âWell, Iâm gonna see you aroundâŚ?â you trail off, unsure.
âJisung,â he responds softly, offering a light smile. He moves his hand closer to yours, and you hesitate for just a moment before quickly grasping it. âCall me Jisung.â
You give him a quick nod, feeling a flutter in your chest, and with one last smile, you turn to walk away, your steps quick as you hurry toward your class. âIâll see you around, Jisung!â you call over your shoulder.
Later that night, you're sitting at the edge of the Manhattan Bridge, looking down at the city.Â
Why does everything feel so small? Youâre surrounded by the massive skyline of New York City, yet everything seems distant, as if none of it belongs to you. Your feet dangle off the edge, the cold breeze ruffling your hair as the city lights twinkle below.Â
Itâs beautiful, but somehow it doesnât feel like yours. You wish you could find a way to make it feel like home.
You feel the city suffocating you, its weight pressing against your chest, wrapping around your neck, slowly squeezing, making you ache, making you want to escape. Escape from New York, escape from your father, escape from everything.
But at the same time, guilt claws at you. How could you even imagine leaving? Leaving your mother, your grandmother, Minho. You canât picture your life without him in it. Heâs become so embedded in your being, so close to your heart, that heâs the only emotion you can feel that doesnât suffocate you. His voice, his touch, they make you feel safe, loved.
You blush at the thought of him, your heart racing. You shake your head lightly, sighing deeply. You donât understand why you feel this way. You never minded his teasing or sarcastic comments. He was always there when you needed himâwhen your dad called from prison, when your grandma came home, when you had that horrible fight with your mother. He never judged you; he just gathered up the clothes on the floor, gave you a gentle smile, and said, âLet me clean you up.â
He was there. And right now, you just want to run away. You just want to hide, to escape into your feelings, to forget about the reality that hurts more than you can bear. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you look down at the street below. The jump seems so easy, the only escape that might bring you relief.
âHey, blondie,â a voice calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. A blue electric suit lands beside you, the figure settling next to you on the edge of the bridge. âYou getting ready for a big jump?â
You squirm in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you turn to face him. Spider-Manâs mask stares back at you. He sounds so casual, almost like heâs talking about something mundane, but the weight of his words makes your pulse quicken.
âI- maybe?â You stammer, unsure of what youâre really saying, but something about his presence calms you just a little.
His head tilts, and you can almost imagine the confused expression hidden beneath the mask. âMaybe? So I should stay here?â
You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. âNo, I think, I think you can actually go.â
He falls silent for a moment, and you feel the tension in the air as you both stare at the city below. Then, in a low murmur, Spider-Man speaks again, his voice softer now. âDo you like the view?â
You let your gaze drift back down to the streets, the chaotic pulse of Manhattan. The endless motion of the people, the sounds of the city filling the air. The lights blur into the darkness.
âNo,â you whisper, your voice tinged with bitterness. âI hate it.â
He doesnât respond at first, the quiet hanging between you, and then, with a gentle sigh, Spider-Man speaks again, his tone full of something you canât quite place. âItâs not the view that matters, you know. Itâs what you do with it.â
You donât know what to say to that. Instead, you just stare down, lost in the noise of the city, feeling like an outsider in a world thatâs moving far too fast for you to catch up. âDo you?â
âJeez, no,â he giggles, and that sound makes you turn in his direction. Heâs still looking at you. âReally? But⌠youâre Spider-Man.â
You chuckle as his hand moves really close to your thigh, just in case you get too close to the edge and fall. âAnd? Canât Spider-Man like the city heâs from?â
âNo, I mean, you protect this city.â His voice is still laced with confusion, running through your thoughts.Â
âProtecting the city and liking the city are two different things for me, sweetheart.â
You nod lightly, chuckling, because you can feel the meaning behind his words. Itâs the same for you. You donât like the city, but youâre still here. For your mother, your grandma, and maybe even Minho. You're starting to accept that, too.
âCan I show you something?â Spider-Man asks softly, almost like a whisper that's hard to hear. You turn your head to him and nod lightly, still confused.
Suddenly, youâre in his arms. Swinging through the city. You scream as you hold onto him, his arm wrapped around your waist. âOh my god!â
âYouâre a natural,â Jisung chuckles as he swings between the skyscrapers, his strong arm holding your waist as you try not to scream every time his webs drop you dead weight among the city lights.
âThis is my favorite way to see the city.â
Looking down at the streets, your stomach drops. The beautiful view stretches out before your eyes. âOddio... Oddio!â Every time you get flustered or scared, you end up speaking in Italian. Jisung laughs loudly when he hears your very loud scream.
âWhat was that, angel?â His voice is right against your ear, making you blush and feel butterflies all over your stomach. You should say something, but before you can, he gently sets you down right in front of your parents' little pizza place. You can feel that he doesnât want to let you go, and his arm slowly moves away from your waist.
âWell, I... I should go.â
âSpider-Man, I... can I ask you a favor?â
He stops before he can move or step away from you, his eyes focused on you. You can tell by the movement of his mask that heâs happy. âYes?â
Your eyes fill with determination. You want revenge. âCan you... go after Deadpool? He did... something to me and my family. Weâ I need revenge for that. I want him in jail.â
Xoxoxo.
Jisungâs body stiffens for a moment, his grip on the web shooter tightening, a slight pause in his usually confident demeanor. The words ârevengeâ and âDeadpoolâ sit heavily in the air between you, and for a split second, you see something in his movements shift, a hesitation he wasnât expecting to feel.
âYou want revengeâŚâ His voice drops lower, more serious now. âI get it. I really do. But... itâs not as easy as you think. Deadpoolâs not someone you can just throw in jail. Heâs... complicated. And Iâm not sure if you really want to get mixed up with him, trust me.â
Your heart sinks a little as you meet his gaze, but you refuse to back down.
âWhy?â you ask, the anger and hurt barely kept in check. âWhatâs so complicated about him? He hurt my familyâmy father, my life.â
He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. âBecause heâs not someone you can just punch out and walk away from. Deadpoolâs... unpredictable. And heâs not afraid of anything, especially not jail.âÂ
His eyes soften, looking at you with a mix of pity and concern. âI donât want you to make things worse for yourself. Youâve already been through so much. You deserve more than to become tangled in all of this.â The air between you both feels thick, like youâre standing at the edge of a cliff, one wrong move could send everything spiraling.
âBut I need to do something,â you say, your voice trembling a bit. âI canât just sit here while he... while my family is still paying for what he did.â
Thereâs a long pause. The city lights flicker in the background as the sound of traffic hums faintly in the distance. Finally, Jisung steps closer, his voice quieter now. âI canât promise you that I can take down Deadpool, not the way you want me to. But... Iâll help. Iâll help you find a way, okay? You donât have to carry this burden alone.â
You feel a mix of relief and tension wash over you. Itâs not the answer you were hoping for, but itâs something. âThank you,â you whisper, your heart still heavy, but somehow a little lighter.
He smiles, though thereâs a sadness in his eyes you donât miss. âIâll be watching your back. Youâre not alone in this. Weâll figure it out.â
As he swings off into the night, youâre left standing there, more determined than ever. The weight of what youâre about to do hasnât fully hit you yet. But with Jisungâs promise, it feels like a step toward taking control of your own fateâhowever dangerous it may be.
The quiet hum of the classroom buzzes around you as you sift through your notes, trying to focus. You barely hear your professor call out the next group project announcement until you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around, expecting to see your best friend, but instead, it's Minho, grinning like a cat with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Looks like you're stuck with me, huh?" he teases, leaning casually against the back of your chair.
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look. "Wait, what do you mean 'stuck with you'?"
Minho just shrugs, a smug grin spreading across his face. "The professor just assigned us all to groups. You and I are in the same one, lucky you."
You groan internally. You're always paired with Minho for projects, and while you do work well together, it usually means a whirlwind of sarcastic remarks and endless back-and-forth teasing. At least with Minho, you can sort of predict what heâll do next, but whatâs going to throw you off this time is that, somehow, Jisung is in the same group.
You glance over at him, seated in the row behind you. Heâs got his headphones in, but his eyes are clearly already scanning the room. He makes brief eye contact with you, and his lips curl up into a friendly, almost too-casual smile. You can feel your heart skip a beat, your brain reminding you that this Jisung is just a normal guy, and nothing about him should make your chest tighten like that.
Minho notices, of course, and his smirk grows even wider. "Well, arenât we lucky. The trio is complete."
You try to keep a straight face as you turn back to Minho. "Seriously? Youâre telling me weâre working with Jisung on this? This is gonna be a disaster."
âHey,â Minho says with a sly grin, âyou know what they say about working with the best.â He murmurs with his hand that moves around your neck froom behind, tilting your head upward, his lips placing a soft peck against your forehead.
You canât tell if heâs being sarcastic or serious, but at this point, it doesnât matter. With Minho, youâve learned to expect the unexpected. And with Jisung? Well, youâre still trying to figure out what to think about him. His smile always seems to catch you off guard, and thereâs something about the way he talks to you that makes you feel like heâs both a stranger and someone you should know.
The professor calls out, âAlright, your group work begins today. Make sure you all meet up after class to discuss the project. Iâll see you all next week with your first ideas.â
You gather your things, watching as Jisung approaches your desk, a lazy walk that hides the subtle confidence in his stride. His casual smile never falters as he slides into the chair next to you, and you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Focus, Y/N. This is just a project, nothing more.
âWell, looks like itâs just the three of us, huh?â Jisung says lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. âLetâs make it a fun one.â
You can feel Minho beside you rolling his eyes, but he canât help the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips. âIâm sure this will be... interesting.â
The awkward silence stretches for a second, and youâre the first one to break it, trying to steer the group back on track. âSo, uh, we should probably discuss the project.â
âRight,â Jisung says, leaning forward. âWhatâs the project about?â
You pull out the assignment paper, scanning the details for any indication of what kind of project it is. âItâs about urban development,â you say slowly, trying to piece it together. âWe have to come up with an idea to improve the city's infrastructure. Maybe something with public spaces?â
Minhoâs eyes gleam with an idea. âWhat about incorporating green spaces? Like rooftop gardens or more parks. Itâd balance out the concrete jungle.â
You nod in agreement, but Jisung leans back in his chair, his hand resting on his chin thoughtfully. âThat could work, but what if we went further? We could add eco-friendly transportation options. Maybe a system of public bikes, but with solar charging stations?â
âSolar charging stations?â Minho scoffs lightly. âYouâre really thinking this through, huh?â
Jisung shrugs nonchalantly, his smile never leaving his face. âGotta go big or go home. Plus, think about how cool itâd be to have a whole city powered by solar energy.â
You catch yourself smiling, despite yourself. Jisungâs enthusiasm is oddly contagious, and itâs hard not to get drawn into his excitement. Youâre still trying to figure out why he makes your heart race, but for now, you can focus on the project.
âAlright,â you say, tapping the table to get their attention. âLetâs make sure we keep it realistic, though. We want to wow them, but we donât want to bite off more than we can chew.â
âYeah, yeah,â Minho mutters. âRealistic. Youâre no fun, Y/n.â
But even with the teasing and the sarcastic remarks, you can tell that Minho is fully on board. The trio might be unconventional, but you canât deny that it feels... right. Even if itâs chaotic, even if you donât know where this project will take you, you canât help but feel that somethingâs shifting.
The way Jisung looks at you sometimes. The way Minhoâs teasing feels strangely affectionate. You wonder, for the briefest moment, if youâve gotten yourself tangled in something bigger than just a group project.
You push the thought aside as you gather your things, ready to take the next step.Â
Itâs just a project... right?
Itâs only been a few days since the project began, but already, Minho and Jisung are at each otherâs throats. Every time they meet, itâs like theyâre competing over who has the better idea, and you canât help but roll your eyes as they try to outdo each other.
Youâve been here beforeâwatching them argue over the smallest details, throwing passive-aggressive comments about each otherâs suggestions. Itâs a mess. But somehow, even amidst the chaos, you can tell theyâre both passionate about it.
"Okay, letâs hear it," Jisung says, leaning forward with his arms crossed, giving Minho an expectant look.Â
"You think adding more green space to the city is gonna solve everything?"
Minho doesnât miss a beat, shaking his head. "No, Iâm saying itâs a good start. You want your solar-charging bike stations to work, right? Well, people are gonna need a place to park those bikes, so why not give them green spaces to make the whole thing work?"
"Youâre missing the bigger picture," Jisung counters. "How do you even plan to make the cityâs infrastructure sustainable long term? Youâre just throwing a few plants in there and calling it eco-friendly."
You sigh, rubbing your temples. You thought this was supposed to be a group project, but instead, youâve been stuck in the middle of what feels like a never-ending battle.
âGuys, can we justââ you start, but youâre quickly cut off as Minho raises his voice a little too loudly. âAre you seriously doubting the impact of green spaces? People need a breath of fresh air in this city! They canât live in a concrete jungle!â
âOh, Iâm not doubting it. But you're not thinking of the logistics. People are gonna need more than just a place to hang out. They need sustainable solutions! Bikes that can be charged while in use, not just a place to park them like some⌠park bench project!â
Their bickering intensifies, and youâre starting to get a headache. But itâs at that moment that the tension escalates in a way you werenât expecting.
Minho, who had been pacing the room, pauses for a second, his eyes narrowing. âWait, are youâare you seriously thinking weâre just going to throw a couple of solar panels on some bikes and call it a day? Youâre acting like this is all just some random side project.â
Jisungâs face flushes a deep red, and you can see his jaw clenching. âWhat exactly are you implying?â he asks, his voice quiet but sharp, making the air around you seem tenser.
You watch the two of them, sensing the rising tension. The air feels thick, like itâs on the verge of snapping, and youâre starting to get a headache just from the silent battle of wills between them.
This project was supposed to be a team effort, but now it feels like a competitionâone that you donât have the energy to be part of.
âOkay, Iâm gonna grab some food. You two can sort this out," you say, standing up quickly, eager to escape the mounting tension. You throw a glance over your shoulder at both of them, then exit the room before either can protest.
The door clicks shut behind you, leaving them alone.
The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the sound of Jisung exhaling a frustrated breath.
Minho crosses his arms, clearly not ready to let it go. âI still donât understand what your problem is with this. The whole point isââ
âThe whole point?â Jisung interrupts, his voice rising just slightly, a sharp edge to his tone. âThe whole point is sustainability, Minho. Something you obviously donât care about if you think throwing in a couple of parks is gonna solve anything.â
Minho takes a step forward, his face a mixture of frustration and disbelief. âOh, you mean like swinging from building to building, throwing out webs and calling it saving the city like that stupid spiderman guy?â
Jisungâs eyes narrow, and for a brief moment, a flicker of something dangerous passes through them.
"Don't talk like you understand anything about real responsibility," Jisung mutters under his breath, his grip tightening on the edge of the table.
Minho opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out, Jisung, in a flash of irritation, shoots a web from his wrist. It zips across the room and lands directly over Minhoâs mouth, completely covering it, rendering him silent.
Minhoâs eyes widen in shock, but instead of fighting back, he stands frozen, his eyes locked on Jisung. The tension in the room shifts, no longer about the project, but the quiet understanding that passes between them.
Jisung pulls back the web, letting it retract with a flick of his wrist, but he keeps his gaze firm. âThatâs better,â he says, his tone low. âNow, we can actually talk.â
Minho blinks a couple of times, his jaw clenched in silent frustration. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, as if clearing away the remnants of the web.
âWhat about that Deadpool old man, huh?â Jisung finally says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, as if heâs just given up. "The cityâs supposed âhero.â A real pain in the ass.â
âOh shut the fuck up,â Jisungâs eyes widen at the slip, and the realization hits him like a punch to the gut.
âThatâs... definitely something Deadpool would say,â Jisung mutters, his voice lowering as his brain races to catch up. He gives Minho a long look, then shakes his head, realizing it.
Minho rolls his eyes, exasperated. âYeah, well. Guess youâre not the only one with secrets.â
Jisungâs expression softens for a moment, before he quickly changes the subject, looking at the door. âWe canât tell her.â
Minho looks back at Jisung, his face a mix of frustration and reluctant agreement. "Yeah, I know. She can't find out. Not yet. She's already too involved as it is."
Jisung nods, but thereâs a part of him thatâs still uneasy. He canât quite shake the feeling that this is all about to spiral out of control.
"I don't want her to see us like this," Jisung mutters, running a hand through his hair. âWeâve gotta keep this normal, at least for her.â
âYeah,â Minho agrees quietly. âShe doesnât deserve to be caught in all this mess. Not yet.â
Another long silence passes, the weight of their secret identities hanging over them like a shadow. They both know the stakes are higher than ever now, but for the moment, thereâs nothing they can do but play along.
A few moments later, you return with some snacks, unaware of the tension thatâs still hanging in the air. Both Minho and Jisung are back to their usual selvesâtrying their best to ignore the secret that they just shared between each other.
You walk in, trying to act casual, but even you can feel the weird vibe in the room. âAlright, Iâm back,â you say, offering them both a smile as you sit down.
Minho and Jisung glance at each other before turning back to you, each of them hiding something behind their smiles.
âEverything okay?â you ask, trying to read the room.
âYeah, fine,â Minho answers quickly, his voice too smooth. âLetâs get back to work, yeah?â
Jisung nods in agreement, though his eyes still flicker toward Minho, the unspoken understanding passing between them.
You sigh, relieved that the atmosphere has lightened, even if just a little. âAlright. Letâs finish this.â
As you dive back into the project, the two of them work silently next to you. But underneath the surface, the tension hasnât gone awayânot yet. The secrets theyâre keeping from you feel heavier than before, and you can't shake the feeling that something's not right.
But for now, youâre all pretending things are normal. And in that moment, thatâs all you can do.
The city hums around you as you walk down the busy street, your mind still preoccupied with the tension from earlier. The strange atmosphere between Jisung and Minho hasn't quite left you, but you try to shake it off, focusing instead on the project you need to finish. You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don't notice the figure lurking in the shadows until itâs too late.
A pair of rough hands grip your shoulders from behind, yanking you into an alleyway before you can even react. The world tilts as you struggle, trying to break free, but the strangerâs grip is ironclad. Your heart starts to race, panic rising in your chest.
"Hey, what do youâ" you try to shout, but your voice is quickly smothered by the hand clamped over your mouth.
The man pulls you deeper into the alley, his breath hot and rancid against your ear. You kick and squirm, but it's no use. He's too strong. You feel the cold steel of a knife pressed against your side as he threatens in a low voice, âQuiet down, sweetheart. Weâre just going for a little ride.â
Your breath quickens, panic flooding your veins as your mind races for a way out. But just as you're starting to lose hope, you hear the unmistakable sound of a webbing snap against the air.
âLet her go!â a voice shouts from above, clear and demanding. Your heart skips a beat. It's Spider-Man.
The kidnapper freezes, his eyes darting up to the rooftop above. Jisung, in full Spider-Man mode, swings down on a web with perfect timing, landing in a crouch right between you and your captor.
âSpider-Man, huh?â The kidnapper sneers, his grip tightening on your arm. âYou think you can stop me?â
Jisungâs posture shifts, ready for action. âI donât think, I know.â
Before the man can make another move, Spider-Man shoots a web directly at his hand, pulling the knife out of his grip with lightning speed. The man yells in frustration as he tries to retreat, but Spider-Manâs webbing quickly ensnares his feet, pinning him to the ground.
âNot so fast,â Jisung says, his voice steady, though thereâs a flicker of anger beneath it. Heâs clearly furious that someone dared to hurt you. âYouâre not going anywhere.â
But before Jisung can deal with him, a loud crash rings through the alley. You turn just in time to see a figure in a blue and red suit landing with a heavy thud right next to you.
Deadpool.
âSorry Iâm late,â MinhoâDeadpoolâsays, his voice muffled under the mask. He holds up a pair of handcuffs, looking at the struggling kidnapper. âI had to stop for tacos. You know, priorities.â
Jisung shoots him a look, his eyes wide behind his mask. âYouâreâhow didâwhat are youââ Deadpool shrugs, completely unfazed. âIâve been around. Donât worry about it.â
âWait, you were the one whoâ?â You gasp, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.
Minho grins beneath his mask. âYeah, yeah. Deadpool, the guy who totally didnât save you from getting kidnapped.â
You blink, feeling like the world is spinning. Your brain scrambles to process this new information, but the kidnapperâwho is still struggling beneath Spider-Manâs gripâgives you no time to think.
Your pulse thunders in your ears as your eyes dart between the two masked figuresâone holding your attacker with webbing, the other acting like this was all some twisted joke.
Your body tenses. âNo,â you mutter, your voice trembling with disbelief. âNoâI don't want your help.â You jerk away from Minho as he approaches. âGet away from me!â
âY/nââ Jisung tries, but you take a step back, heart racing, chest heaving. âYou donât understandââ
âI donât understand?!â you snap.Â
âYouâre Deadpool. You ruined my life. You turned my dad in without saying a word.âÂ
Minho flinches, and for a second, he doesn't speak. Then, slowlyâdeliberatelyâhe reaches up and pulls off his mask. Your breath catches. His dark eyes meet yours, and they're not smug, not cocky, not playful.mThey're full of guilt.
So you see it, itâs Minho, your breath itches as you feel the world spinning under your feet, âYou disappeared. You lied to me every day while pretending to be my friendââ
âI did it for the best,â he says quietly. âI didnât tell you because I knew youâd hate me. But I couldnât let him keep hurting people, Y/N. And I couldnât watch you act like it wasnât destroying you too.â
Your throat tightens, hot and raw. âYou had no right.â
âI know,â he whispers. âI know.â A heavy silence hangs between you for a long momentâuntil Jisung steps forward. âMinhoâŚâ he murmurs, but Minho just glances at him.
âDonât look at me like that, Spider-Boy. Youâre next.â Jisung sighs and turns to you slowly. âY/n... I didnât want it to happen like this either.â
Your eyes narrow. âYou knew?â
âNo.â His voice breaks slightly. âI didnât know he was Deadpool until a few days ago. But I knew I was keeping something from you too.â Thenâwithout another wordâhe reaches for his mask and pulls it off.
Your breath stops. âJisungâŚâ His name falls from your lips like a broken prayer.
âI swear I was going to tell you. I didnât want you to be caught in this. But then you asked me to go after Deadpool andââ he trails off, eyes flicking guiltily to Minho. âIt got messy.â You stumble backward, shaking your head as you try to process everything. Two people you trusted. Two people who lied.
âYou bothâŚÂ lied to me. Every day.â
Neither of them speaks. And that hurts the most.
Your eyes sting. âGet out of my way.â
âY/nââ Minho begins.
âNo. Both of you,â you say firmly, lifting your chin despite the tears beginning to fall. âI donât care if you were trying to protect me. I didnât ask you to. I asked for honesty.â
Then, stepping around them both, you walk awayâheart pounding, steps shaky, mind spinningâleaving behind the only two people who ever made you feel safe⌠and the only two who just destroyed that trust in seconds.
The university halls are loud again. Midterms are creeping in, people are caffeinated beyond logic, and the world moves onâeven when your heart feels like it slammed into a wall.
You walk in with your headphones on, eyes locked on the floor, clutching your backpack like itâs a shield. You know theyâre both there. Jisung, sitting by the window like always. Minho, slouched in his seat with a frown that could burn holes in steel. You donât look at either of them.
âY/nââ Jisungâs voice is soft. Desperate.
You keep walking.
Minho straightens up. âCan we talk?âÂ
Nope. Not today.
You walk past them, not even flinching when your name is called again. You do, however, pause at the back of the classroom. Your usual spot is next to Jisungâbut your eyes drift to the middle row. There's an empty seat⌠next to someone new.
Heâs relaxed, arms crossed, hair tousled in a perfectly effortless way. His black hoodie is slightly oversized, and heâs scribbling something in a notebook like he doesnât care if the world burns down outside. He looks⌠safe. But also like he knows things.
You clear your throat softly. âHey. Is this seat taken?â
He looks up, slowly. His eyes flicker with something unreadable before he smilesâcrooked and quiet. âIt is now.â You sit.
From across the room, both Minho and Jisung are frozen. You donât even need to look to know that theyâre staring. You can feel it. The tension. The questions. The confusion.
But you donât care. Because the guy next to you smells like mint and ink, and when he turns the page in his notebook, you catch a glimpse of your name written in the corner. Waitâwhat?
Your head turns. âDid youâ?â
He smirks, not looking at you. âGuess Iâve heard about you.â
âWhoââ you pause, suddenly cautious. âWhatâs your name?â
He finally looks at you again, eyes darker than before but not unfriendly. âChan. Bang Chan.â
The rooftop is quiet, bathed in soft neon glow from the city below. Somewhere far off, a siren wails, but for now, there's nothing urgent. Just two masked vigilantes sitting on the edge, legs dangling like bored teenagers.
Deadpool tosses a half-eaten taco in the air and catches it with his mouth. âSo. Sheâs sitting next to that guy now.â
Spider-Man, sitting stiffly beside him, doesnât respond. âI mean, whatâs his deal anyway?â Minho continues. âBang Chan? That sounds like the name of someone whoâs too hot to be real. Like, he was made in a lab.â
âYouâre literally a mercenary with swords and sarcasm. You donât get to judge names.â Jisung glares through his mask, but Minho just shrugs, chewing noisily.
âShe ignored both of us,â Jisung finally mutters.
Minho scoffs. âYeah. Because we lied to her. Multiple times.â
A gust of wind brushes over the rooftop. Jisung fiddles with his web-shooter. âI didnât want to lie. I just⌠didnât know how to tell her.â
âWell, now sheâs sitting next to Bang Perfect Jawline Chan and pretending we donât exist.â
âSheâs allowed to do that,â Jisung sighs, then adds under his breath, âStill sucks though.â
A pause.
âThink heâs⌠like us?â Minho asks suddenly.
âWhat do you mean? Like, charming and emotionally unavailable?â
Minho shoots him a dry look. âI mean powered, dumbass.â
Before Jisung can respond, both of their comms beep sharply in their ears. Robbery in progress. Lower East Side. Minho groans. âDuty calls.â
Jisungâs already jumping off the roof. âRace you there.â
The warehouse is chaos. Smoke. Screams. Gunshots. Spider-Man swings low, yanking a rifle out of someoneâs hand while Deadpool flips over a stack of crates, landing a punch that sends a guy flying.
âWatch your left!â Jisung yells.
âI have a left!â Minho shouts back, slicing through a metal bar like itâs butter.
They fall into rhythm. Their synergy unmatched. Like muscle memory. But even while fighting, their minds are elsewhere. âYou think she actually likes him?â Jisung pants, throwing a web at a goonâs legs.
Minho ducks under a punch. âShe laughed at something he said. I saw it. Like, really laughed.â
âOh god. Not the laugh.â
âShe doesnât laugh like that at us.â
âYeah, because we keep secrets and get her kidnapped.â They both pause for a second, catching their breath behind a pillar. A moment of silence. ââŚWeâre idiots,â Jisung mutters.
âYeah,â Minho agrees. âBut Iâm a sexy idiot in red leather, so.â Jisung groans. âGod, why is that actually true?â Another round of thugs comes charging, and both of them spring into actionâstill processing heartbreak, betrayal, and the fact that Bang Chan might be better at math and emotions.
The late afternoon sun filters through the tall university windows, casting long golden streaks across the floor. You're sitting in your new usual seat, notebook open, doodles replacing actual notes. Next to you, Bang Chan leans back in his chair, effortlessly casual, one arm slung behind you on the backrestânot quite touching, but close enough to make your skin prickle.
âYouâve been quiet today,â he says, voice low and smooth, his eyes flickering over your expression.
You offer a half-smile. âJust tired.â
He doesnât press. Doesnât tease. Just nods slowly. âYeah. Itâs been a weird week.â
You glance sideways. âWhat do you mean?â
Chan taps his pen against the edge of your notebook. âI mean⌠masked guys crashing through warehouses. Unmarked cars around campus. You hanging out with those like itâs nothing.â
Your body stiffens. âIâm not hanging out with them.â
âOh?â he says, eyebrows raised with mock surprise. âCouldâve fooled me. You seemed real close back in the alley the other night.â
Your jaw tightens. You hadnât told anyone about that. Not in detail. âWere you there?â
He smilesânot innocent. Not threatening. JustâŚÂ knowing. âI hear things,â he says smoothly. âPeople like me, we tend to be in the right place at the right time.â
âAnd what kind of person is that?â The look he gives you makes your stomach twist. âSomeone who sees the bigger picture.â
You go still, your pen frozen mid-word. Chan leans in slightly, his voice just above a whisper. âYou donât have to choose the losing side, Y/n. Youâre smarter than that. Stronger, too.â
You swallow. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âSure you do.â His smile drops, just for a second. âAnd when the time comes, I hope you remember who was honest with you.â Before you can respond, the professor walks in and the room shifts with movement. You stare forward, heart racing. Chan sits perfectly still beside you, flipping open his textbook like nothing happened.
But the air is heavy. Too heavy.
The wind whips gently at your coat as you climb the final ladder step onto the rooftop. The city glows below you, soft and buzzing with its usual rhythmâbut tonight, it feels quieter. Like itâs waiting.
You shiver, even though the air isnât that cold. Youâre not sure if itâs nerves or instinct.
âY/n?â Jisungâs voice comes firstâhis Spider-Man mask pulled halfway up his face, eyes wide with concern. Minho, still fully dressed as Deadpool, leans casually against the railing, but you can feel the tension radiating off him like heat.
âYou okay?â Minho asks, dropping the casual act for once. âYou said it was urgent.â
You take a breath. âItâs Chan.â
Both heads snap toward you immediately. âI think heâsââ You pause, rubbing your arms. âI think he knows something. About everything. About you guys. About me.â
Minho straightens. âWhat did he say?â
You explain everythingâhis tone, the things he mentioned, the weird feeling that clung to you long after the conversation ended. By the time youâre done, Jisung is pacing and Minho is practically vibrating with protective rage.
âHe was trying to recruit you,â Minho mutters darkly. âOf course he was. I shouldâve seen it.â
âI donât understand why heâd come after me,â you say quietly.
âBecause youâre important,â Jisung says instantly, almost without thinking. He stops pacing and looks at you, eyes soft. âTo us.â
You look between them, suddenly overwhelmed by the way both their facesâmasked or notâhold the same worry. Not frustration. Not disappointment. Just fear. For you. âI didnât know who else to talk to,â you admit. âI canât talk to anyone about this. Not my mom. Not evenâmyself, half the time.â
âYou did the right thing,â Minho says, stepping forward. He places a gloved hand on your shoulder. âAnd next time he tries to talk to you alone, you tell us.â
Jisungâs jaw ticks. âOr betterâdonât talk to him at all.â
âI can handle myself.â
âWe know,â they say in unison.
You snort. âYou two rehearsed that?â They glance at each other and both grinâjust for a second, the tension breaks. Then Jisungâs expression hardens again. âWeâll keep an eye on him. Just⌠stay close, okay?â
Minho nods. âWeâve already lost you once. Not again.â
The smell of fresh pasta hits you the second you walk through the door. It's comforting, something that tethers you to the familiarâhome. But tonight, the warmth of the restaurant doesn't comfort you the way it usually does. The tension has been thickening all day, ever since Chan walked in with that smile that somehow felt too practiced. Too knowing.
You find yourself sitting across from him again. The air is thick with the sound of clinking glasses and murmured conversations around you, but here, at this table, it feels like itâs just the two of you. Chan leans back in his chair, that same relaxed smile on his face as he swirls the wine in his glass. âIâve been meaning to talk to you.â
You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light. âAbout what?â
His smile deepens. âAbout you. And what you really want.â
The words sink in slower than you expect, and you feel your chest tighten. âWhat do you mean?â
Chan leans forward now, his voice dropping low, a velvet smoothness lacing every word. âI know your familyâs situation. Your fatherâs... business deals. I know youâre struggling with all of it.â His eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes you shiver.âBut I can help you, Aurora. We can help each other.â You frown, a cold chill running down your spine as his words swirl in your mind.Â
The mafia.Â
Your father.Â
The dangerous world you tried to distance yourself from.
âI donât need your help, Chan,â you say, your voice more defensive than you want it to be.
But Chan just smirks, unfazed. âI think you do. You think you can escape this? Leave it behind? But itâs in your blood, Aurora. Youâre already in deeper than you realize.â You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off with a soft laugh.
âIâm not trying to pressure you, sweetheart,â he says, his voice almost too gentle. âI just want you to see the bigger picture. You donât have to fight it. Itâs just a matter of understanding the rules. Play the game, and itâll be easier. For everyone.â
The weight of his words lingers in the air, like a noose tightening around your chest. You donât want to admit it, but something about the way he speaks... sells you the idea. The idea that maybe, just maybe, you could stop running.
âDo you really think Iâll join you?â you ask quietly, your gaze shifting away from him.
Chan leans back again, his gaze never leaving you. âI think you already have.â He pauses, watching your face carefully. âBut you just donât realize it yet.â
You feel a sting of panic. The way he says itâitâs not a threat, but itâs a promise. A quiet, dangerous certainty.
âChan, Iââ You stop yourself, shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts. "I can't do this. I can't get involved in whatever game you're playing."
He doesnât respond immediately. Instead, he lifts his glass, swirling the wine again as he watches you carefully. âYou donât have to make any decisions right now. Just think about it. Think about what you really want. What you need.â
The smile he gives you next is laced with something darker, something you canât placeâbut it feels like the weight of everything pressing in on you. You donât know if itâs his words or something else that makes you feel so... uncertain. You donât know what this is. What he wants from you. But you can feel it. The pull.
Later that night, you find yourself walking home in the quiet of the city, trying to shake the feeling of Chan's words clinging to your thoughts. The sound of your footsteps echoes against the empty streets, and for a moment, you almost forget about the weight youâve been carrying. But then you hear a soft rustle in the alleyway beside you.
You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. You turn to look, but thereâs nothing there. Just the darkness. You exhale, trying to calm your nerves. Just your imagination.
Thatâs when you hear itâa soft chuckle. And then, from the shadows, a figure steps out.
âMinho?â you gasp, already recognizing the red-and-black suit before you even see his face.
But heâs not Minho right now. Itâs Deadpool. His mask is half on, and his eyes gleam behind the fabric.
âAre you out here alone, or did you decide to take up a side gig with the mafia?â DeadpoolâMinhoâteases, stepping closer with an amused smile.
You try to hide the uncertainty in your eyes, but you can feel his gaze drilling into you. âIâIâm fine,â you stammer, not sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself.
Deadpoolâs expression shifts, the teasing smile fading just slightly. âChanâs been getting under your skin, huh?â
You blink at him, surprised by the accuracy of his words. âWhat are you talking about?â
But Minho just sighs. âI donât trust him, Y/n. Heâs not just some businessman. His ties run deepâdeeper than you think.â
You donât know why, but hearing him say that does something to you. It feels like a warning. Maybe even the kind of warning you should have heard sooner. âIâm not gonna let anything happen to you,â Minho says softly, stepping closer until you feel the heat of his body next to yours. âI care about you too much for that.â
And for the first time in a long while, you wonder if you really can escape the world Chan is offering. Or if Minho and Jisung are right. Maybe youâre already too far gone.
You, fully aware of the mafia's grip on the city and Chanâs role in it, feel a storm of conflicting emotions as you stand in front of him. You smile softly, masking your anxiety. Chanâs slick, charming demeanor never falters, the kind of person who could sell ice to an Eskimo.Â
But today, heâs about to be his own downfall.
âSo, whatâs your proposal, Chan?â you ask coolly, playing the part of the interested, willing participant.
He leans forward, eyes gleaming with that familiar coldness.
âItâs simple, really. I can offer you everything. Power. Protection. A life of luxury. All you have to do is align yourself with the right sideâmy side.âYou nod, pretending to consider it, all the while scanning the surroundings in your mind. The police are ready; the call has already been made. Chan continues to talk, oblivious to the trap youâve carefully set.
âIâve got deals lined up, Y/n. Big ones,â he continues. âIâm not just running the city from the shadows anymore. Iâm taking over.âThatâs when you see the moment. Heâs letting his guard down, giving you the information you need. His pride, his arroganceâit's his biggest weakness.
"Right," you say, nodding again, trying to suppress the rising sense of triumph. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Chan leans back, grinning, clearly thinking heâs already won you over. "Youâll see soon enough. But first, letâs seal the deal, shall we?"Â He offers you a handshake.
-
The tension between Jisung and Minho hangs thick in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. The situation with you and Chan has pushed them both to the brink.Â
They're angryâat themselves, at each other, at the world around them. Each word feels like a spark ready to ignite something much bigger. "You think you can do everything alone?" Jisung snaps, pacing, his voice full of frustration and something darker. His hands ball into fists, his knuckles white.Â
"She doesn't need us to fight her battles! We should've been there! But youâ"Â He points a shaking finger at Minho, the words bubbling up in his throat, "You never let me help her! You never let meâ"
Minhoâs mask tilts up slightly, his eyes blazing with a fire that mirrors Jisung's. He steps forward, voice low but simmering with anger. "I didn't let you help? Are you kidding me? I wanted to protect her just as much as you did!" His breath is heavy, the tension between them thickening with every word. "But we can't always be there! I... I care about you, Jisung. Youâre not the only one who worries about your safety."
Jisung freezes. The words hit him like a sudden punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. For a split second, his world slows, and his anger fades into something deeper, something he doesnât want to admit.
He looks at Minho, standing there, eyes burning with concernâconcern for him. The realization stirs something within him, something he canât ignore.
âYou care about my safety?â Jisungâs voice is strained, his own frustrations bubbling back to the surface. âHow would you know what itâs like to be the one whoâs always left behind? To watch her go off without us, to know you canât protect herââ His chest heaves with the emotion coursing through him.
But Minhoâs not listening to the words anymore. Without thinking, the distance between them disappears in a flash. He moves so fast, itâs almost like the world has stopped moving entirely. His hands grip the sides of Jisungâs face, pulling him in, and before Jisung can even protest, Minho presses his lips to his.
The kiss is nothing like either of them expected. It's rough, urgentâpassionate, desperate. All the frustration, the fear, the pent-up emotion theyâve kept locked away explodes into the moment. Minhoâs lips crash into Jisungâs, and it feels like everything theyâve been holding back, every word they never said, is poured into this single, searing contact.
Jisung, momentarily stunned, feels his whole body stiffen before he melts into it. His hands find Minhoâs waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel the connection. His breath mingles with Minhoâs, each movement of their lips speaking volumesâwords left unsaid, frustrations turned into something else entirely.
Minhoâs fingers tangle in Jisungâs hair, tugging him deeper into the kiss, his body pressing against his. The kiss is messy, raw, but itâs everything theyâve both been too afraid to expressâuntil now. Thereâs no holding back, no room for hesitation. Itâs the release of all the weight theyâve carried for each other, for you, for everything thatâs been left unresolved between them.
When they finally pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, the silence feels different. The world has shifted in a way neither of them expected. Neither says anything at first. The heat between them lingers, crackling in the air. Minhoâs voice is soft, almost uncertain, but the emotions behind it are clear. âI didnât mean for it to be like this...â
Jisung, still recovering from the kiss, barely manages a laugh, but itâs lighter than anything heâs felt in a long time. âYeah, me neither...â
The fight feels smaller now, the anger dissipating like fog in the morning sun. What was once heated and full of tension now hangs suspended between themâa new understanding, one thatâs only just begun to take root.
You hesitate for just a second. You lock eyes with him, your hand moving to meet his, but this is it. This is the moment where you get him, where you shut him down.
As soon as your hands clasp, a familiar sound fills the air: sirens. Chanâs face drops, his smug confidence vanishing in an instant. Police officers rush in, and you step back, watching as Chan is cuffed.
âYou... you tricked me?â Chan hisses, fury flashing in his eyes as heâs led away.
You stay composed, a small smirk playing at your lips. "Tricked you? maybe."
Before you can fully process the feeling of relief, a voice rings out from above. "Y/n?!"
Your heart races, and you whip your head up to see none other than Spider-Man (Jisung) swinging down from the rooftop. He lands softly beside you, his mask hiding the concern in his eyes.
âAre you okay?â Jisung asks, but before you can respond, his eyes flick to the police officers. âWhatâs going on here?â
You, despite everything, try to keep your composure, and with a flicker of uncertainty in your chest, you meet Jisungâs gaze. You see the moment he realizes what happened.
"You... called the police?â he asks, his voice laced with disbelief. "You caught him... youâ"
You nod, your voice calm. âYeah. I did.â
For a second, you both just stare at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in. Jisung, still in his Spider-Man suit, stands in front of you, visibly tense, unsure of what to feel. But you can tell that his protective instincts are at war with his pride.
"Good job," he says finally, voice softer. "But you shouldn't have done it alone." You look at him, your heart twisting a little. You know itâs coming. You know heâs going to be upset, and you donât want to hurt himâespecially after everything thatâs been happening. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught in your throat.
Before you can say anything, Deadpool appears, and he glances at the scene, his mouth curving into a grin under the mask. âDid you get him, blondie?â he teases, his voice light, but thereâs an edge to it that you know too well.
You nod. "Yeah, itâs done."
Minho steps forward, looking between you and Jisung. Thereâs something in his eyes now, a quiet intensity. "You donât need to do this alone, you know."
You swallow, your heart racing. You know theyâre both trying to process this moment in their own ways, but all you want is to be honest with them. "I just... I couldnât let him hurt anyone else. Not anymore."
The silence is thick, but it doesnât feel heavy. Itâs as if a weight has been lifted, but another oneâmuch more personalâhas settled in its place.
The city hums under the rooftop like a secret waiting to be heard. Youâre sitting on the ledge, legs dangling, the wind teasing your hair. Itâs lateâtoo late for anyone sane to be out hereâbut the chaos inside you makes everything feel louder than the sirens below.
Jisung sits beside you, not too close. Not yet.
He doesnât speak at first. Just watches the streetlights dance in your eyes. Youâre the one who breaks the silence. âHe told me⌠my dad had a deal with them. Thatâs why theyâre watching me.â
Jisungâs hands clench. His jaw ticks. âChan?â
You nod, eyes glazed. âI donât know if heâs lying. I donât even know whoâs lying anymore.â Thereâs a stretch of silence, but itâs not cold. Jisung shifts closer, his knee brushing yours.
âIâd never lie to you,â he says softly. âNeither would Minho.â
You bite your lip, looking at him. âBut you did hide things. Both of you.â He nods, guilt flickering in his gaze. âBecause I thought I was protecting you. But now... I just want to be honest.â A pause. Then he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your earâhis fingers brushing your cheek just a second too long.
âI care about you,â he whispers. âMore than I should. And I know Minho does too.â
Your heart stutters. âI donât want to choose,â you murmur.
âMaybe you donât have to,â he says, almost breathless. You blink at himâsurprised by his words, your lips parting as if to say somethingâ And then the door creaks open.
Minho walks in. He stops mid-step. His gaze flicks from you to Jisung. His mask is off, and the mix of pain and jealousy in his eyes hits like a bullet. âOh. I see,â he says dryly.
You stand, suddenly overwhelmed. âMinhoââ
But he steps forward, dropping whatever sarcasm was building in his throat. âNo. I shouldnât have waited. I shouldâve told you first.â
âTold me what?â
Minho walks right up to you, gaze steady. âThat I love you.â The air splits in two. You forget how to breathe. Jisung rises behind you, stunned silent. âHyungâŚâ
But Minho doesnât stop. âAnd I know he does too,â he adds, nodding toward Jisung. âSo maybe⌠just maybe⌠we stop pretending that this is a triangle. Maybe we stop pretending itâs a fight.â
You stare at both of themâheart thundering, hands shaking. âAnd if itâs not a fight⌠what is it?â you whisper.Â
Minhoâs eyes soften, though thereâs still that edge to himâsomething sharp in the way he moves toward you. Itâs as if he wants to reach out, but thereâs hesitation. Not because he doubts you, but because heâs afraid of the unknown. Afraid of the depth of whatâs between the three of you.
Jisung, standing just slightly behind Minho, seems lost in his own thoughts for a moment. Heâs always been the more open one, the one who wears his heart on his sleeveâbut thereâs something about this moment that has him hesitating too.
âItâs us,â Jisung finally says, his voice low and steady, as though heâs putting everything on the line. âIf you want it to be.â
Your breath catches in your throat as his words sink in. The weight of them presses against your chest. Itâs not just a simple statementâitâs an invitation, a promise, a vulnerability laid bare. You meet his gaze, searching for any sign of uncertainty, any sign of fear in his eyes. But all you see is something deeper, something raw and real.
Minho steps forward, his gaze intense, his expression unreadable. His fingers twitch at his sides like heâs fighting the urge to reach for you, and you feel the tension in the air shift. Itâs like everything in the world has come down to this momentâthe three of you, here, together.
âI think weâve both been waiting for this,â Minho murmurs, his voice soft but firm. You can hear the weight of his words, the longing behind them, the way heâs been holding himself back for so long. âBut itâs not just about us. Itâs about you too.â
Your heart races as you try to steady your breathing. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in around you as the three of you stand there, caught in a moment thatâs so heavy with meaning, it almost feels unreal.
Thereâs a flicker of somethingâsomething unspokenâbetween Minho and Jisung. Itâs like theyâre both reading the same page of an unwritten story, and theyâre waiting for you to join them. Itâs a moment of connection, of shared history, of desire thatâs been simmering beneath the surface for so long, itâs impossible to ignore any longer.
And then, before you can say another word, Minho steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. The touch is light but filled with meaning, a simple contact that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes soften as he looks at you, and for a moment, itâs like the whole world disappears.
You feel Jisung behind you, his presence a steady, comforting force. He doesnât speak, but you can feel his gaze on you, on the way your heart races, the way youâre trembling slightly in the face of everything thatâs happening. Heâs waiting tooâwaiting for you to make the decision, to step into something new, something uncertain but full of possibility.
The tension in the air is palpable, like a storm about to break, and you can feel it in your chest. The three of you are standing on the edge of something, something youâre not sure youâre ready for, but canât walk away from. You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your thoughts.
Minho leans in, his voice barely above a whisper. âWeâve got you, you know. In every way. If you want us.â
And for the first time in what feels like forever, you realizeâyou want them. Not in the way you thought you did before, but in a deeper, more honest way. This is no longer just about the tension or the heat between you. Itâs about something more real, more fragile. Itâs about letting go of the fear and the uncertainty and just letting yourself feelâtruly feelâwhat it means to trust them, to be with them.
Jisungâs hand is on your back now, his touch warm and grounding, his presence comforting and steady. Itâs all so overwhelming, so intense, that it almost feels like youâre floating. You look up at him, meeting his gaze, and see something soft and tender in his eyes.
âYou donât have to say anything right now,â he murmurs, his voice full of understanding. âBut when youâre readyâŚâ Minho nods, his fingers brushing against your skin. The warmth of his touch is enough to melt the walls youâve built up around yourself. Heâs here. Theyâre both here.
The space between you and Minho feels like itâs shrinking, and before you can think twice, his hand gently cups your face, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft, almost hesitant, but thereâs a longing there, something raw. Itâs not rushed. Itâs tender. Minho leans in slowly, closing the distance between you, and for a moment, time seems to stop. You breathe in together, the quiet tension before the kiss almost unbearable.
And then, his lips are on yoursâsoft, warm, gentle at first, as if heâs giving you the chance to pull away. But you donât. You let yourself fall into it, the moment feeling like it was always meant to be. He kisses you slowly, savoring the connection, the sweetness of the moment. Itâs different from everything else thatâs happened. Itâs grounding. Itâs real. You feel his other hand come up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he deepens the kiss, just enough to make your heart race. You melt into him, your own hands finding his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.
When he pulls away, youâre left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Heâs still close enough for you to feel his warmth, his breath, and you can see the emotion in his eyes, the vulnerability that he doesnât often show.
Before you can say anything, you feel Jisungâs hand on your back, his touch like a silent promise. He doesnât say anything eitherâhe just pulls you toward him gently, pressing his forehead to yours for a brief moment, a silent question in his eyes.
Then, Jisung leans in, his lips brushing against yours, not as gently as Minhoâs, but still softâthereâs an intensity to his kiss, something more urgent, more fiery. Itâs like heâs trying to say everything that words canât. His hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat of him against your body.
You give in to the kiss, your lips moving with his, a rhythm that feels familiar already, even though itâs the first time. He tastes like something sweet, something all his own, and you lose yourself in it. The world outside seems to fade away as you sink into the kiss, your arms wrapping around him to keep him close.
When he pulls away, his eyes are darker, filled with something you canât quite place, but you know itâs real. The air around you feels heavier now, charged with the weight of everything unspoken.
You canât help the nervous, lighthearted laugh that escapes you as you look at both of them. Their gaze is so intense, so full of warmth, that it makes your heart flutter. âI think I need a moment to catch my breath,â you say, feeling your face heat up. âGod, I need ten business days to recover.â
Their laughter fills the air, light and easy, but itâs enough to make your heart race. Minho chuckles and reaches out, brushing his fingers against your cheek in a surprisingly tender way. âI think we should go inside now,â he says, his voice teasing but filled with a softness that catches you off guard.
But Jisungâs eyebrow arches, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he smirks. âYou dirty thinker.â His tone is playful, but the way he looks at you makes it clear heâs not letting that moment pass by without some kind of response.
You turn away, your heart hammering in your chest as you try to regain your composure. You didnât expect things to escalate so quickly, but now, with both of them so close, everything feels different.
As you step toward the door, Minho and Jisung follow closely behind, their steps in sync. You can feel the weight of their eyes on you, their presence right behind you, and it only makes your heart beat faster.Â
When you finally reach the door, you hesitate for just a second before opening it, but as soon as you do, you feel two warm hands gently grip your waist from behind, pulling you back against their bodies.
Jisungâs breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, âYou donât get away that easily.â
Minho, on the other hand, leans in, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you canât help but gasp, your skin tingling at the touch. His lips move lower, brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear, and you can feel the pressure of his kiss intensifying, as if heâs trying to convey everything he feels in this single moment.
Jisung, not wanting to be left out, moves his lips to the other side of your neck, kissing and nibbling lightly, sending another wave of heat through your body. The way they both move in sync, each kiss sending jolts of pleasure and warmth to your core, makes it almost impossible to think straight. Their hands stay firmly at your waist, steadying you as they continue their gentle assault of kisses, their presence all-consuming.
Your body instinctively leans back into them, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The air around you feels charged with something electric, something undeniable. You can feel the weight of their affectionâhow much they want you, how much they care.
Jisung and Minho press in closer, their breaths hot against your skin. Your heartâs pounding so hard you swear they can hear it, a frantic little rhythm that matches the way your body trembles under their touch.Â
Lips crashing and tongues tangling, before they guided you hereâyour bed looming like some unspoken promise in the dim light. Jisungâs on your left, his soft lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear, and oh God, itâs like heâs teasing you on purpose.Â
His kisses are light at first, playful nips that make you squirm, but then he drags his tongue slow and wet along the curve of your neck, a low hum vibrating from his throat. âYou taste so good,â he murmurs, voice all breathy and needy, like heâs losing himself in it. His hand slides up your arm, fingers digging in just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine. Heâs got that switch energyâsweet one second, then hungry the nextâand itâs messing with your head in the best way.
Minho, thoughâheâs something else entirely.Â
Heâs on your right, and where Jisung teases, Minho claims. His mouth latches onto the other side of your neck, firm and unrelenting, teeth scraping against your skin before he sucks hard enough to leave a mark.Â
You gasp, your head tipping back without you even meaning to, giving him more room to work.Â
âStay still,â he growls low against your throat, and itâs not a requestâitâs a command that sinks straight into your core, pooling heat between your thighs. His handâs already on your waist, gripping tight, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there like heâs anchoring you in place.Â
He pulls back just enough to smirk, his dark eyes glinting as he inspects the red bloom heâs left on your skin. âThatâs better,â he says, voice smooth and dangerous, and youâre already melting under the weight of it.
Your shirtâs bunched up from their hands roaming, the cool air hitting your exposed stomach, and I canât tell whose fingers are brushing there firstâJisungâs, light and curious, or Minhoâs, deliberate and possessive.Â
Either way, itâs too much and not enough all at once.Â
Jisungâs lips move lower, kissing along your collarbone now, sloppy and eager, his breath hitching like heâs just as wrecked as you are. âFuck, youâre so soft,â he whines, and thereâs that switch againâheâs needy, almost begging, but then he bites down lightly, testing you and you let out a shaky little moan.
Minhoâs not having that, though. His hand slides up to your jaw, turning your face toward him, and his lips hover just over yours, close enough that you can feel the heat of him.Â
âEyes on me,â he says, sharp and low, and you obey without thinking, your gaze locking with his. He doesnât kiss you yetâjust watches, like heâs savoring how flustered youâre getting, how your chest heaves with every ragged breath.Â
Then Jisungâs tongue flicks over a sensitive spot on your neck, and you whimper, and Minhoâs grip tightens. âYou like that, donât you?â he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. âTell me.â
âY-yes,â You stammer, voice barely a whisper, and Jisung chuckles softly against your skin, the sound vibrating through me.Â
Theyâre everywhereâJisungâs messy kisses trailing lower, Minhoâs control pinning you in placeâand youâre dizzy with it, sinking deeper into whatever this is, your body begging for more.
Your room feels like itâs shrinking, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and something sweeter, maybe Jisungâs lingering cologne or Minhoâs leather-and-gunpowder vibe clinging to him from some earlier chaos.
 Youâre pinned between them, your pulse racing as their hands and mouths work you into a haze. The bedâs right there, mattress dipping slightly under your weight as they press you back, and youâre not sure how much longer your legs can hold you up with the way theyâre unraveling you.
Jisungâs lips sliding from your collarbone down to the edge of your shirt, tugging at it with his teeth like heâs half-teasing, half-desperate. âFuck, youâre driving me crazy,â he breathes, voice cracking with want, and his handsâthose quick, clever handsâslip under the fabric, brushing your bare stomach.Â
His touch is light at first, fingers dancing over your skin, but then he presses harder, palms flat and warm, and you feel the faintest tremble in them. Heâs switching againâneedy to boldâhis mouth finding the curve of your chest, kissing through the thin material, a wet spot blooming where his tongue lingers.Â
Your back hits the matress of your bed, youâre in ful display for them to play with.
âCanât get enough of you,â he mumbles, and his teeth graze your skin, sending a jolt straight through you.
Minhoâs not about to let Jisung have all the fun. He grabs your chin tighter, forcing your gaze back to him. âDonât get distracted,âhe says, voice low and dripping with that cocky authority, and then heâs kissing youâhard, messy, all tongue and teeth like heâs claiming every inch of your mouth.Â
Itâs overwhelming, the way he takes control, his other hand sliding down your side, hooking into the waistband of your pants. He pulls back just enough to smirk, breath hot against your lips. âYouâre ours tonight,â he says, and thereâs no question in itâjust pure, filthy promise. His fingers dip lower, teasing the edge of your underwear, and your breath hitches, loud in the quiet room.
Jisungâs not backing off, thoughâheâs tugging your shirt up higher now, exposing more of you to the cool air, and his lips follow, kissing a sloppy trail up your ribs. âSo fucking pretty,â he whines, and you feel his fingers flex against your skin, like heâs fighting the urge to just rip everything off.Â
Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, but Minho just chuckles and pulls back, denying you.
"Someone's impatient," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. His breath ghosts over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Tell us what you want, blondie. Beg for it."
As you arch into their touches, Jisung and Minho's gazes lock over your shoulder. The air crackles with tension, and before you can say another word, their lips crash together in a heated, desperate kiss.Â
Jisung's hands grip Minho's shirt, pulling him closer as Minho's fingers tangle in Jisung's hair. They're kissing like they're starving for each other, tongues tangling in a messy dance that mirrors the chaos of their touches on your body.Â
You're between them, every hitch in their breaths, and it's pushing you closer to the edge. Jisung's free hand roams over your hip, squeezing possessively, while Minho's fingers finally slip beneath your underwear, teasing your wet heat.Â
Your sharp gasp breaks through their heated kiss, and they pull apart, panting. Jisung's eyes are dark with desire as he watches Minho's fingers brush against your pussy lips.
"Fuck, she's so wet," Minho murmurs, his voice rough with want. He presses a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, curling it just right to make your legs tremble. Jisung leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You like that, don't you? Being touched by both of us?"
His hand slides up your stomach, squeezing your breast through your bra, thumb brushing over your nipple. You can only whimper in response, overwhelmed by their touches, their words, the heat building inside you. âOh fuck.â
Minho smirks at the view of you being so needy, âYeah? Like it?â
You nods and he adds a second finger, pumping them in and out at a steady pace, his thumb circling your clit. Jisung's hand slips into your bra, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. They're working in sync, pushing you higher and higher, their touches sending jolts of pleasure through your body.Â
âS-Shit please!â
You're writhing between them, your hips moving on their own, chasing the friction. Jisung captures your mouth in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans as Minho's fingers curl deeper, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.Â
"Come on, Y/N," Minho encourages, his voice a low growl. "Show us how much you love this. Come for us."
Their touches grow more urgent, more demanding, as their own desire reaches a boiling point. Jisung breaks the kiss, panting heavily, his hard length pressing insistently against your hip.
âFuck, I need to be inside you,"Â he growls, his fingers digging into your thigh. Minho's breath is hot against your neck, his hips grinding against your backside, his erection evident through his pants.Â
"Now,Y/N," he commands, his fingers pausing their movements. "Tell us what you want. Beg for our cocks." They're both trembling with restraint, their patience wearing thin, waiting for you to give them the green light to take you completely.
Your head moves backward as you can barely contain your moans, youâre seeing the stars. âPlease.â
The single, desperate plea falls from your lips, and it's like a dam breaking.
Jisung's hands are shaking as he unbuttons his pants, pushing them down just enough to free his hard, leaking cock.Â
Minho's not far behind, his zipper echoing loudly in the room as he pulls out his own thick length. Your pants and panties moves down with your shaky hands, your eyes half hidden.
They position themselves at your entrance, the heads of their cocks pressing against your soaked folds, one from behind, jisung in front of you, waiting for your signal.
"Say it again," Jisung urges, his voice strained. "Tell us you need us."
Minho's hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head back, his eyes boring into yours. "Beg for it, Y/N.Beg for us to fill you up."
Your whimpers echoes in their ears, âPlease, please i need it...â Your whines, desperate and needy, push them over the edge. With a synchronized thrust, they bury themselves inside you, stretching you deliciously.Â
Jisung's hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he sets a fast, hard pace. Minho's hand remains on your throat, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back onto his cock as he meets Jisung's thrusts.Â
They're moving in perfect sync, their cocks rubbing against each other through the thin barrier, creating a delicious friction that has you seeing stars. "Fuck, you're so tight," Jisung pants, his hips snapping forward.Â
"So perfect,"Â Minho agrees, his lips brushing against your ear. They're consuming you, filling you completely, their bodies pressing you between the mattress and their hard muscles. The room fills with the sounds of their grunts, your moans, and the slick slap of skin on skin.
You clench around their thick length, you canât last long. âGuys... g-guys i donât...ââÂ
Your words trail off into a high-pitched whine as your orgasm crashes over you, your inner walls clamping down on their cocks. Jisung and Minho groan in unison, their thrusts growing erratic as they chase their own releases.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're squeezing us so hard,"Â Jisung grits out, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. Minho's grip on your throat tightens slightly, his other hand snaking around to rub tight circles on your clit, prolonging your pleasure.
"Comâon, baby, milk our cocks,"Â he encourages, his voice a low, dirty murmur in your ear. Their hips piston forward, driving into you with abandon, the bed shaking beneath you as they pound you through your orgasm and into another.Â
The sensation is overwhelming, your body convulsing between theirs as they fill you with their hot cum, marking you inside and out.
As the final waves of your shared orgasm subside, Jisung and Minho collapse on either side of you, their bodies slick with sweat. They're breathing heavily, their chests heaving against your back and side. Jisung presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin.
"You okay?"Â he asks softly, his hand brushing your hair back from your forehead. Minho's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your stomach.
âThat was... intense,"Â he murmurs, a hint of a smile in his voice. You're sandwiched between them, their warmth enveloping you, their scents mingling with yours in a heady mix. The room is quiet except for the sound of your labored breaths and the occasional soft murmur from Jisung, still high from the passion.
Youâre lying between Jisung and Minho, their arms still around you, and youâre trying to catch your breathâthough, it feels like itâs still stuck somewhere in your chest. Every time your mind tries to process what just happened, your heart starts to beat faster, and your stomach does little flips, making it impossible to focus.
You shift a little, your body pressed against theirs, and it sends a jolt of warmth through your skin. The soft pressure of their arms around you makes you feel safe, and the intimacy of it all hits you in waves. This is really happening. Youâre trying to act normal, but itâs impossible when you feel like youâre on fire from the inside out.
âUgh, I donât even know what to do with myself right now,â you mumble, your voice barely a whisper, but loud enough that both of them can hear. You let out a little giggle, not sure if you want to laugh or groan. âI just... I just had an intimate moment with Spider-Man and Deadpoolâand Iâm freaking out.â
Jisung chuckles softly, nuzzling the top of your head with his nose. âWhatâs wrong, angel? Not used to being surrounded by two heroes?â
Minho grunt, hitting jisungâs head with his hand slapping it lightly, making the younger whine, âIâm not such a âheroâ thing.â
You groan dramatically, burying your face in your pillow to hide your flushed cheeks. âI mean, yes! This is crazy! How do I evenââ You cut yourself off, feeling like you canât even form a coherent thought right now. âI mean... you two,â you manage, your words coming out in a tiny, whiny voice. âI... I canât believe I just had an amazing time with you two.â
Minho shifts beside you, his hand brushing gently against your waist. His voice is low and soothing, but you can hear the teasing lilt in it. âYou seemed to enjoy it, though. You kept asking for more.â
Your entire face flushes at his words, and you groan again, hiding your face in the pillow even harder. âStop!â you whine, flailing your arms a little in frustration.  Minho chuckles, leaning in to press a light kiss to the top of your head. âYouâre adorable when youâre all embarrassed like this. Donât worry, though. Weâre not going anywhere.â
Your heart flutters even more at that, and the gentle reassurance makes you want to curl up into them even further. What did I just get myself into? Youâre overwhelmed, your mind still racing, but somehow in the best way possible.
âGod, I feel like I need to take a moment to breathe,â you say, burying your face in the crook of Jisungâs arm. âIâm so dizzy. You two are so... intense.â You giggle again, trying to make light of the situation even though your body is tingling with heat.Â
Minho hums lowly, his hand lightly caressing your back. âWeâre not going to make you regret it, blondie. Trust me.â You sigh dramatically, still feeling the aftershocks of the intimacy.Â
The weight of everything hangs in the air for a moment, and then you feel them both press a kiss to your forehead, making your heart flip once more. This is real. This is happening. You canât deny it anymore.
âDonât worry,â Jisung says softly, his voice tender now. âWeâre here. Always.â
You close your eyes, smiling to yourself, feeling the warmth of their closeness. âYeah,â you whisper, your voice barely audible. âI guess... I guess Iâm lucky. I have Spider-Man and Deadpool here. With me.â
#minsung x you#han jisung#Han Jisung stray kids#Han Jisung x reader#Han Jisung imagines#Han Jisung headcanons#Han Jisung skz#Han Jisung x y/n#Han Jisung x you#Han Jisung smut#stray kids#minsung#minsung x yn#minsung x reader#stray kids minsung#minho x jisung#minho x reader#minho smut#minho stray kids#stray kids minholee minho stray kids#stray kids minho#lee minho smut#lee minho#skz minho#han skz#han jisung spider man#lee minho deadpool#forgive but never forget series#Spotify
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002. đ đđ - đđđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ



001. <- 002. -> 003.
warnings: reader here is talking about her suicide thoughts so, if this trigger you do not read it.
words count: 2k
When you were a child, people always thought that maybe you could be a heroine.
You're not sure why, it's maybe the way that you always think of another compromise between two sides, or the way that you smile even if it hurts. You, never really get it. With powers, or without, you can't imagine yourself sitting on the edge of a skyscraper, looking at the city as if it were yours. Because New York was never yours.
You get up here, but it never felt right. You like the view, but you never loved it. It's the same when you just accept your fate and your don't go over that, you adapt yourself easily - pretty much all over the places.
At university, at work, with your family, with your friends. Everywhere, you seems to adapt, and sometimes this is good enough to make you survive. Because that's how you are, jumping around in places and surviving in every situation.
Or at least that what you do.
You can't imagine yourself as a hero, and not even an antihero, or a villain if that could interest someone. You are just, you. In your easy life, that started to be all chaotic and full of too many people that try to change it.
Like Han Jisung.
You are walking down the hall, your mind all around the places because after you left from home the same morning, Minho wasn't there in front of the gate of your house. He's calling sick, but he's never sick. His immune system it's the icon of health. But you didn't asked any questions about it, you just stayed there texting back with a light pout.
[ minho 07:50am ] too early to pout like that bunny.
His text makes you chuckle lightly, he knows you so well that he pictured you pouting like a baby because he's not there with you. You don't know that Deadpool it's on top of a skyscraper, moving his legs on the edge with his phone in his hand, your figure right down the street. He knows that you're doing because he's watching you from afar, but.. you don't know that.
And that breaks minho's heart a little, cause he's so scared of telling you who he really is, that he decide to just lie for your own good, if people that are against him knows that he cares about someone that much that he cares about you - that would put you in too much danger.
As you walk inside the University Minho sigh deeply, knowing that inside there he can't actually protect you like he should. That would be too crazy, getting inside the classes just to follow you in his costume, he would have too many attentions. Even if he likes it, he likes only your attention.
Minho stops when he hear a whistle from behind, he glance as with his hand he gets ready to grab his gun from the holster, "hey hey go easy Deady," the voice behind makes him groan in annoyance, "how many times I need to tell you to not call me like that."
Spider-man walk beside him with a toast in his mouth, the mask lightly up as his blue electric costume get in the older's visual, "how many times I need to tell you that I do not care?"
Deadpool roll his eyes, his arms crossed against his chest as he notice his friend with a bag pack, "so, you go in this university?"
"good try Deady, but I gotta go," Jisung says faking his flattering with a smirk, finishing his toast and putting on his jacket, before swinging away with his cobwebs.
You're walking down the hall, your headphones on with some noisy music that could describe perfectly your morning, when you noticed that today, it's exactly six months that your father is in jail. Your mind it's blurry, you can't actually figure out why he did it. Why he started to sell drugs right in the shop, right under your nose, and you never noticed. You never noticed because his smile was always the same, and the money never increased that much to shock you, you never thought that could happened to you; to your mother and your grandmother. You barely can have a conversation with them, without your eyes to tear up or your angry to cover your gentle tone that you have with them. Something changed in you that day. It's hard to say what, to say why, it's just happened. You started to enter in your room from the window at night, almost like an inspected visitor in your own apartment, Your mother always down on the couch, a blanket over her body to rest the poor hours of break from her two jobs, your grandmother always look at the little window in the living room. She doesn't do the crosswords week anymore, and you're too tired to fight about it, you're too tired to do more of the things. You're slowly drowning.
You're too inside your mind that you don't notice that you bump into a boy, you quickly turn almost tripping in your own feet. "God are you okay?" You asks with your eyes wide open.
Jisung immediately grabs your shoulders to steady himself, and his face is flushed red from embarrassment and adrenaline from the sudden movement. "Oh no, no, it's alright." he chuckles and smiles at you. "You're quite nimble for a clumsy girl, hm?"
"am I?" You chuckles as you blush a little when his hands moves his hands away from your shoulders. His shoulders relax, and he recognized you right away. Even if he save a lot of people during his work-day, he remembers you like a sunny day. He remember your bright smile that you gave to him as he left with his cobwebs and a smile hidden by his mask. That made him feel, so alive, so happy for what he does and his little work. Is not that little, but he's not confident yet.
"yeah, yeah you looks like it." He grin lightly.
Your eyes try to catch a single sign of awkwardness, but his whole vibe it's so friendly that makes you feel like you should talk to him more than you wish, "Did we ever met before?"
Jisung shakes his head, blushing as he try so hard to not get out his big secret, he's not that good to keep them. "I don't think so, I would definitely remember a pretty girl like you."
You can hear your best friend calling you from the end of the hall, in the class that you are supposed to be, because your lesson start in exactly two minutes. "well, I'm gonna see you around..?"
"Jisung, call me Jisung," he says softly with a light smile, he moves his hand close to yours, you hold it really quick before walking away with speedy steps, "I'll see you around Jisung!"

You're sitting at the edge. Looking down at the view of the city, why everything looks and seems so small for you? New York City is one of the biggest city that you ever see, you're moving your feet against the edge of the Manhattan bridge in the middle of the night. You feel that city suffocating you, getting around your neck and squeeze it in a slow, making you suffering and desiring to just escape from there. Escape from New York, for your father, from your life.
But at the same time you feel guilty to imagining yourself taking that plane, leaving your mother, your grandmother, Minho. You can't think about your life without imagining Minho in it, you feel him so close in your bones that is the only no-suffocating emotion that you feel. His voice, his touch, makes you feel loved.
You blush at the thought of the guy, shaking your head lightly as you sigh deeply. You don't understand why you feel and what you feel about him, you never complained his attentions or his sarcastic comments. He was there for you when you dad tried to call you from the prison, he was there when your grandma got back home, he was still there after sawing your crying face from the horrible fight with your mother. He never judged you, he just grabbed the clothes on the floor in your room with a light smile and he just said "let me clean you up."
He was there. And honestly, right now you just want to go. You just want to run away, to hide, to feel your feelings and just escape from that reality that hurts more than you can imagine. A big sigh escape your lips as you look down again, the jump seems an easy escape. The only chance.
"hey blondie," a blue electric suit sits right next to you, "are you getting ready for a big jump?" You squirm surprised as she turn to the side, a Spiderman's mask shows to you.
He sounds friendly even if he's talking about something that deep to you, you feel the adrenaline through your veins just to talk about that, "I- maybe?"
His head tilts a little, you can imagine a confused face on him, even if you don't know who is actually under the mask. Could be anyone to you. "maybe? so I should stay here."
"no I think, I think you can actually go."
"do you like the view?" Spiderman murmurs as your eyes land down, on the busy streets, the people walking, the loud chaos of Manhattan. "no, I hate it."
"Jeez me too," He giggle, and that sounds makes you turn in his direction, he's still looking at you. "really? but.. 're Spiderman."
You chuckles, as his hand moves really close to your thigh, just in case you move too close to the edge to fall. "and? and Spiderman can't like the city that he's from?"
"no I mean, you protect this city." His confused voice still running around your thoughts, "protecting the city, and liking the city, are two different things for me sweetheart." You nods lightly with a chuckle, 'cause you can feel the meaning. Is the same for you, you don't like the city but you're still here; for your mother, your grandma, and maybe you're starting to accept even the fact that you want to stay for Minho too.
"can I show you something?" Spiderman talks lightly, almost like a whisper that is really hard to hear, you turn your head to him and you nod lightly confused.
Suddenly you're in his arms. Swinging around the city. You scream as you hold yourself on his body, his arm is around your waist, "Oh my god!"
"you are a natural," Jisung chuckles when he swings between the skyscrapers, his strong arm holding your waist as you try not to scream every time his webs drop you dead weight among the city lights. "this is my favourite way to see the city."
Looking down to the streets, you feels your stomach drop, the beautiful scenario shows in front of your eyes. "oddio.. Oddio!" Every time you get flustered, or even scared, you talk in Italian for stressful moments. Jisung laugh loudly when he hears your really loud screams, "what was that angel?"
His talks are right against your ear, making you blush and feels butterflies all over your stomach, you should say something but in a couple seconds of silence he puts you down right in front of the little pizza place of your parents, you can feel that he really doesn't want to let you go and his arm slowly moves away form your wait. "well I, I should go."
"Spiderman I- can I ask you a favor?"
He stops before he could move or step away from you, his eyes are over you as you can see from the movements of the mask how happy he looks, "yes?"
Your eyes are filling with needs, you want revenge. "Can you, go over Deadpool? he did.. something to me and my family. we - I need revenge for that. I want him in jail."
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#minsung x you#han jisung#Han Jisung stray kids#Han Jisung x reader#Han Jisung imagines#Han Jisung headcanons#Han Jisung skz#Han Jisung x y/n#Han Jisung x you#Han Jisung smut#stray kids#minsung#minsung x yn#minsung x reader#stray kids minsung#minho x jisung#minho x reader#minho smut#minho stray kids#stray kids minholee minho stray kids#stray kids minho#lee minho smut#lee minho#skz minho#han skz#han jisung spider man#lee minho deadpool#forgive but never forget series#jixauro#Spotify
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Detective Lee - Chapter Fifteen
THIRD POV.
Days passed since your little cuddle session with Felix. Keeping true to his words, he's been protecting you to the best of his abilities. He walks you to the cafĂŠ and back to your home, stays in the cafĂŠ with you throughout your entire shift, and closes up with you. Depending on the day and his availability, he'd even stay over or have you stay at his place.
To say he was scared for you was an understatement, but you were just as nervous. Even though he was doing this to protect you, you hated it. You hated it because you weren't worth all the effort and time he wasted. You didn't deserve all the care and love he showed you. You tried convincing Felix that things calmed down and everything was okay, but he persisted in continuing to help you.
You hate to admit that you might be pushing him away not only because of your disgusting self that didn't deserve such kindness, but because you were growing mild feelings for the boy, and it scared you. 'Scared you so much you subconsciously started avoiding him, making your interactions short and barely speaking to him. Felix was, of course, confused by the sudden change of heart in you. Not only was he confused, but he was also hurt, finding that his heart ached in a way he's never experienced before. Wanting to get rid of all his questions, he went to his best friend, seeking some advice.
He was at his friend's house, sitting on the kitchen bar where the other was making some ramen.
"I don't know, man... it's so confusing. How I feel, I mean."
"Well, how do you feel?"
"I... I want to be with her; to protect her. I like spending time with her and going out together. I want to feel her in my arms and cover her in kisses. When she compliments me or touches my freckles, it makes me want to hug her and shield her from the world. I want to do so much with her. I want to do everything with her. I want her."
His best friend turned around, making eye contact with Felix with a blank face. Thinking against bitchslapping his dumbass of a friend, he chose to speak instead.
"Dude... you're in love."
"What? No, I'm not. I just want her safe and happy and content and smiling and stress-free and-" Felix spluttered, slowly cutting himself off when he realized that his friend's words were true.
"Shit."
"Shit indeed. You, my friend, are in love with a woman that wants nothing to do with you."
"Hey! That's not true!"
"Really? Because from what you told me, she doesn't even look up at you, let alone talk to you."
"Well, fuck you," Felix muttered under his breath.
"I would, but you already have your eyes on some hetero bitch."
Rolling his eyes, Felix got up to give his friend, Jisung, a helping hand with the ramen.
"Mind you know, if it weren't for me, you would have never met Y/N."
Looking at Jisung incredulously, Felix was about to ask what the fuck kind of drugs the former was on, but Jisung beat him to it, explaining himself: "I'm the one that asked you to get me cheesecake and taro milk tea from the cafĂŠ."
"Oh, yeah, you did."
"Yes, I did. I'm also gonna be the one to get you to finally man up and start making a move. Or else I'm taking her from you."
Felix scoffed, "Please, with your gay ass?"
Nodding in agreement, Jisung countered back, "I may be gay, but you, sir, are bisexual. I can't take her, but I can definitely make you my bitch."
Felix widened his eyes, flustered by the vulgar language coming out of his seemingly innocent best friend. Jisung smirked seeing Felix's rosy cheeks: winking at him as he slapped his ass, walking into the living room with the hot ramen. (A/N: tbh I forgot about the ramen)
"Hey!"
"Get your flat ass in here if you wanna eat."
"It's not flat!" _______________________________ Y'all, help, autocorrect tried to change flat ass to fat ass plzđ also! Guess who's back from the dead? Not me; I'm going back into my coffin after this. No, but, seriously, I feel bad for going away for so long. I wanna keep writing, but I can't bring myself to unless I have my materials out and open Tumblr on my laptop. I want to say I'll update frequently but no promises :c
What do you think so far? Also, Jisung is here now! New characters woopwoopđ
I'd like to point out that this is a work of fiction. The characters' sexualities and actions are purely made up. I am not assuming anyone's sexuality: I am simply using it for the purpose of this book and its plot. Also, I realized that I forgot to mention: Y/N is a female character with she/her pronouns. I didn't realize that I was using she/her until now, so sorry!
My next book will have a gender-neutral character, I promise! For a sneak peek, the next book is called Mafia Brothers and is a Seo Changbin and Kim Seungmin ff (it'll have a Y/N character, as well). The book after that is a Binsung story that was requested by my good friend. I won't get into detail about it because it's two long stories away-
Please leave some feedback and opinions in the comments! Just don't forget to stay respectful of me and others :) like and share if you enjoyed this chapter!
Thank you so much for reading! -Nina <3
#detective#lee#minholee#minholeeskz#minho lee skz#leeknowskz#lee know skz#leefelixskz#lee felix skz#lee yongbok#leeyongbokskz#stray kids#skz#straykids#hanjisung#han jisung#hanji#jone#j.one#3racha#crime#mystery#flirting#suggestive#dirty comments#dirtycomments#jilix#y/n#yn#main character
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⼠lee know (stray kids)
#straykids#stray kids#lee know#leeknow#leeminho#lee minho#minho lee#minholee#gif#stray kids gif#lee know gif#tumblr#kpop
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Reposted from @minozdee (@get_regrann) - The King Fan Art â¤ď¸ #LeeMinHo #ě´ëŻźí¸ #TheKing #TheKingTheEternalMonarch #ëíšěěě꾰죟 #minoz #minozDee #minozworld #minozforever #alwaysminoz #minozindonesia #minozjapan #minoz_always_with_you_leeminho #leeminhominoz #iranianminoz #minozthai #leeminhoworld #actorleeminho #minholee #leeminhofans #alwayswithleeminho #theheirs https://www.instagram.com/p/B48xZH7g6En/?igshid=url4gqe4o3f0
#leeminho#ě´ëŻźí¸#theking#thekingtheeternalmonarch#ëíšěěě꾰죟#minoz#minozdee#minozworld#minozforever#alwaysminoz#minozindonesia#minozjapan#minoz_always_with_you_leeminho#leeminhominoz#iranianminoz#minozthai#leeminhoworld#actorleeminho#minholee#leeminhofans#alwayswithleeminho#theheirs
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SKZ ff | The way I loved you | DAY6 | Vol. 1 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/334344986-skz-ff-the-way-i-loved-you-day6-vol-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=lagirls143&wp_originator=ucEpPHU74eBxnLLL778jX4Ox7EWyG6vEIejXZQJbIfURNQJ17Uvj53OiOknp8HSle5QWcRxdUtJP0Zy12LIMPmM%2BzQ1uULOZ%2FwKN3KS4LAa4i62CGsBAUQZecMTolBQnÂ
 The way I loved you is all about living in the present with feelings and thoughts of the past, not knowing they'll come back in the future. Agnes and Kimberlee live their lives as if they forgot their past, they share an apartment in Los Angeles, a nerdy friend, Jae, and (a few of) their secrets with each other. both not knowing that the guys they meet at the night bar will lead them right to the beginning, their first love, their first times, and their first secrets.
#agslee#day6#kids#kpop#kpop-fanfic#kpop-skz#kpop-straykids#skz-fanficion#skz-ff#stray#stray-kids-fanfic#straykids#thewayilovedyou#books#wattpad#amwriting#han jisung#minholee#jeonginyang#straykidshan#chrisbang#bangchan#felixlee#changbinseo#hanjisungfanfic#kpop scenarios#kpopimagines#kpopscenarios#skzscenarios#straykidsimagines
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150702-03 Lee Minho in Thailand @ Suvarnabhumi Airport cr.logo đ 030715 Innisfree Festa Thailand 2015 đ @innisfreethailand . #InnisfreeFestaThailand #Innisfree #innisfreethailand #Boyoverflower #F4 #Junpyo #Personaltaste #Cityhunter #LeeYunsung #Choiyoung #Faith #TheHeirs #Kimtan #ě¸ěŚ #ě´ďż˝ďż˝ďż˝í¸ #ććé #leeminho #LeeMinHo #ActorLeeMinHo #Minho #MinhoLee #Minoz #Supportleeminho
#minoz#ě¸ěŚ#cityhunter#minholee#faith#leeyunsung#f4#junpyo#actorleeminho#theheirs#boyoverflower#kimtan#ě´ëŻźí¸#minho#personaltaste#ććé#supportleeminho#innisfreefestathailand#leeminho#innisfreethailand#choiyoung#innisfree
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cr: unknown [but thank u so fucking much]
#lee min ho#leeminho#minholee#korean actor#boys over flowers#city hunter#faith#legend of the blue sea#personal taste#heirs#the inheritors#kpop#this was probably during love motion#but his love has no motion#only awkward body rolls#lmfaoooooo#this is my man tho#don't @ me#leeminhosnoona#kimtansfluffypinkcardigan
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---âThe King - Eternal Monarch . . O Rei - Monarca Eterno Onde: Netflix, dramaFansub ⢠â __ |đ| Viu no explorar? âSiga â @doramaslove_my para mais Post's Como estes!! ŕźâ§âËâˇä¸Şä¸Ş Marca as(os) amigas(os)ââ . . ⢠â°âĄĚ¸â đŁđŽđżđ°đ˛đżđśđŽđ âĄĚ¸â ⯠⢠⢠âż@seriesmaisdoramas âż@mundodosdoramass âż@universodorameiro_ âż@doramaslove_my âż@kcdramaworld âż@eosdoramas âż@leesuk_fan57 âż@dorama_vida âż@coreia_world âż@reino_dorameiro âż@doramaseosts âż@mundinhoasiatico âż@saranghae_dramas âż@kpopeternalove âż@letrasdemusicasdekpop âż@doramas_e_minha_vida âż@the_life_dorameira_ âż@ko_dorameira âż@sonhos.dorameiros âż@mais_uma_dose9 âż@dorameirailudida_ âż@mundo_dorameiro7 : : #reieterno #ě´ëŻźí¸ #boysoverflowers #monarca #AlwaysWithLeeMinHo #ććéŹ #LeeMinHo #ActorLeeMinHo #theking #minozworld #weloveyouleeminho #ThekingtheEternalmonarch #theheirs #legendofthebluesea #gangnamblues #minholee #lmh #koreanseries #doramaslove_my #allkdrama #í¸ëĽ¸ë°ë¤ěě ě¤ #lee_minho #minho #koreandrama #koreanactor #k_drama #leeminozactor#koreanactors #kdrama https://www.instagram.com/p/B_PJb9YJN0g/?igshid=5i3cpi83e6ff
#reieterno#ě´ëŻźí¸#boysoverflowers#monarca#alwayswithleeminho#ććéŹ#leeminho#actorleeminho#theking#minozworld#weloveyouleeminho#thekingtheeternalmonarch#theheirs#legendofthebluesea#gangnamblues#minholee#lmh#koreanseries#doramaslove_my#allkdrama#í¸ëĽ¸ë°ë¤ěě ě¤#lee_minho#minho#koreandrama#koreanactor#k_drama#leeminozactor#koreanactors#kdrama
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guys what do you think? ::)
#stray kids#straykids#lee know#leeknow#minho#minholee#lee minho#lee felix#tattoo#piercing#grunge#gotic#pastel#aesthetic#tumblr#kpop#korean#ulzzang#edit#design
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Reposted from @mino.paradise_eun_ (@get_regrann) - đđđđđľđś ⢠Reposted from @real_kyungg (@get_regrann) - "ě´ëݏí¸ëĽź ě´ę¸¸ěŹëě_ ě´ëŻźí¸ë°ě ěë¤ęł íë¤!!!"â¤â¤ THE KINGđ"The eternal monarch" Upcoming Drama.. (2020)đş #thekingtheeternalmonarch @actorleeminho #leeminho #leeminho_ě´ëŻźí¸ #ě´ëŻźí¸ #pmz #AlwaysWithLeeMinHo #ććéŹ #LeeMinHo #ActorLeeMinHo #MINOZ #MINOZWorld #weloveyouleeminho #ALWAYSMINOZ #MINOZ_always_with_you_leeminho #PROMIZ #we_will_wait_for_you #minholee #lmh #koreanseries #koreanstyle #allkdrama #í¸ëĽ¸ë°ë¤ěě ě¤ #lee_minho #minho #koreanactors #kdrama #ëíš_ěěě꾰죟 #ě´ęł¤íŠě _ëë°ę¸°ě @actorleeminho #MINOZ #ě´ëŻźí¸ #LEEMINHO https://www.instagram.com/p/B5TDNV8gozq/?igshid=jlgzlwt2zig1
#thekingtheeternalmonarch#leeminho#leeminho_ě´ëŻźí¸#ě´ëŻźí¸#pmz#alwayswithleeminho#ććéŹ#actorleeminho#minoz#minozworld#weloveyouleeminho#alwaysminoz#minoz_always_with_you_leeminho#promiz#we_will_wait_for_you#minholee#lmh#koreanseries#koreanstyle#allkdrama#í¸ëĽ¸ë°ë¤ěě ě¤#lee_minho#minho#koreanactors#kdrama#ëíš_ěěě꾰죟#ě´ęł¤íŠě _ëë°ę¸°ě
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instagram
đđCĂłmo no amarlo? @actorleeminho đ . . . Reposted from @minho.saran đđđđ¤đ§đ§đ¤đśđśđľđľ repost: @cha_eunso . #minholee #minhoo #leeminhocomeback #actorleeminhoo #actorleeminhođ #actorleeminhofan #actorleeminhoooooo #actorleeminho_ #minhosaranghae #loveleeminho #loveleeminhođâ¤ď¸ #loveleeminhođđ #leeminhoolover - #regrann https://www.instagram.com/p/CAaSi2YgEkD/?igshid=1divsiz5q8bfn
#minholee#minhoo#leeminhocomeback#actorleeminhoo#actorleeminhođ#actorleeminhofan#actorleeminhoooooo#actorleeminho_#minhosaranghae#loveleeminho#loveleeminhođâ¤ď¸#loveleeminhođđ#leeminhoolover#regrann
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Regrann from @ps_minho - 030715 Innisfree Festa Thailand 2015 at Siam Kempinski Hotel đđđđ Please do not put your account name on my clip ââ¤ď¸ . .. #Boyoverflower #F4 #Junpyo #Personaltaste #Cityhunter #LeeYunsung #Choiyoung #Faith #TheHeirs #Kimtan #ě¸ěŚ #ě´ëŻźí¸ #ććé #leeminho #LeeMinHo #ActorLeeMinHo #Minho #MinhoLee #Minoz #MinozThailand #Supportleeminho . .. ... đš @mybeloveexo đ - #regrann
#f4#ě¸ěŚ#leeminho#personaltaste#ě´ëŻźí¸#minozthailand#cityhunter#minoz#kimtan#junpyo#leeyunsung#minho#regrann#minholee#faith#ććé#boyoverflower#choiyoung#theheirs#actorleeminho#supportleeminho
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@Regrann from @wenroad622 - 20170718 Pyeong Chang 2018 Facebook Update - #ě´ëŻźí¸ #LeeMinHo #ććéŹ #ă¤ăăłă #ććé CUT "Here are the short inviting messages from #Taeyang, #YunaKim and #MinhoLee! #PyeongChang2018 #ambassadorsđ" Full Video âĄď¸ https://www.facebook.com/PyeongChang2018/videos/10155465694883419/ - #regrann
#ě´ëŻźí¸#minholee#pyeongchang2018#taeyang#ambassadorsđ#ă¤ăăłă#regrann#yunakim#ććéŹ#ććé#leeminho
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âI will always be in the same place, I promise you So you can lean on me and rest just like today. Always.â
#leeminho#minholee#lmh#minoz#kpop#kdrama#always#leeminhoalways#alwayswithleeminho#leeminhoismyeverything#gifsbycarrie#kpopgifsbycarrie#edit#graphic#photoshop#mine#madebyyourstruly
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Husband being artistic ân all
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