rina

. . .

You were now on his bed as he captures your lips in an intense kiss, while some random movie plays on the tv at a low volume as background noise. You eventually break the kiss, breathless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you. When you slowly open your eyes, you catch his own trailing you down until they met your glance.

It hits like a dejavu. It was exactly the same scene you saw last night. Except then, when your eyes met, he suddenly said like it was a casual statement: “You look really sexy like this”. That alone made you forget every single word you knew, your cheeks getting warmer once more. That night, you simply hid your blushing face on the crook of his neck while he delivered another kiss to your temple.

This time however, you were the one who spoke first, your voice coming out in almost a whisper. “You too look really good like this.”

He smiles, genuine, excited. There’s a pause before he finally replies. “Is that compliment I gave you yesterday still on your mind?” He catches on and teases softly as he takes your chin on his fingers, knowing what you were referring to.

“Yeah.” You admit quietly, too fond of him to hide what you felt behind pride. “I keep all those pretty words of yours in a very special place in my heart.”

“Is that so?” He softly chuckles, getting impossibly closer. “Then I shall give you one more to keep in that special place.”

chan — 'she even loves the music that my band makes'

The couch at the studio has a permanent dent in the cushions from where you always slouched. You didn’t plan on becoming a fixture there — it just happened. His late nights turned into your late nights, his takeout orders became your takeout orders, and when you fell asleep for the first time waiting for him to finish editing, the studio stopped feeling like his workplace and started feeling like yours too.

At first, it was just weekend visits. dropping off lunch, then lingering a while till he finished up. Then the weeknights where you’d wait past midnight, because going home alone felt lonely and wrong when he was still working.

2racha—changbin and jisung— stopped asking why you were there (han occasionally slept on the other side of the couch anyway). Even the security guard waved you through without checking your badge.

Tonight was no different. You were curled under his hoodie, half watching some reality show on your laptop while Chan tweaked a vocal track for the third hour straight.

an intern had arrived an hour ago, all bright laughter and eager questions. You didn’t mind at first, Chan was patient with newbies, always explaining things twice if needed. But then her chair inched closer to his. Then she started getting touchy when it wasn't necessary.

Chan didn’t even look her way, just leaned back in his chair, occasionally putting space between them. You watched from the couch, the laptop screen long forgotten.

Then she asked the question, voice pitched too high, “So, are you single, or…?”

You held your breath without meaning to. chan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Then he turned his head, just enough to catch your eye over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth twitched, jerking his thumb to your direction, “I’m married, actually,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The intern’s face froze. Her gaze darted to you, then back to Chan, like she was trying to reconcile the idea of him belonging to someone with the fact that you were just… there. Quiet, half buried in his hoodie.

Chan didn’t wait for her to recover. He tapped his wedding band against the edge of his laptop and nodded toward the door. “that's a wrap for today, you should head out. It’s late.”

minho — 'you got me trippin' in finesse'

you've learned to read Minho's body like a second language, he's a dancer after all. You know his tells before he even speaks.

the way his shoulders relax when he’s finally nailed a routine, the quick tap of his fingers against his thigh when he’s impatient, the slight tilt of his head when he’s watching someone else move. It’s all punctuation in a conversation you’ve been having for months without saying a word.

You met at a studio mixer last summer, back when you were still just the barback for the afterparty, refilling drinks and dodging sweaty elbows. He’d been the one to notice you first, initiating a conversation with you over the counter.

Later, when the music switched to something slow and sultry, he’d pulled you onto the dance floor without asking, and you hadn’t protested.

Minho isn’t the type to flaunt things, though. He keeps his private life private, and you respect that, just a quiet understanding that some things don’t need an audience.

right now, you’re leaning against the doorway of studio 3, watching him run through a new routine with the team. Sweat glinting at his temples as he mirrors the others. You’ve seen this drill a hundred times, but it never gets old.

The music cuts abruptly mid step, and Minho’s gaze snaps toward the sound system — only to land on you instead. his expression turns into a soft smile, and you grin right back at him, raising your water bottle in a silent greeting.

One of the newer dancers, a woman with her hair tied in a tight topknot, follows his line of sight and raises an eyebrow.

Topknot leans into his space as he adjusts the music, her elbow brushing his arm. “You always this serious during practice?” she asks, he doesn’t look up from the playlist, just shrugs one shoulder.

Undeterred, she adds, “Bet you’re fun outside the studio, though. You ever take anyone out after hours?”

Minho’s fingers pause over the soundboard for half a second before he taps the play button again, letting the music swell back to life. He doesn’t answer her, just steps away to reset his position in the center of the room.

But topknot doesn't get a hint, it seems. She sidles closer, her voice dropping. “Come on, do you have a girlfriend or something?” She flicks her eyes toward you, still leaning in the doorway, and adds, “Or are you playing hard to get?”

You take a slow sip of your water. He’s never been one to entertain this kind of thing — not because he’s rude, but because he doesn’t see the point in feeding into games.

Still, you can tell the moment he decides to shut it down. He turns his head just enough to catch your eye, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“nah,” he says, loud enough for the room to hear. “I already have someone.”

Topknot blinks, then laughs, like she thinks he’s joking. “Yeah? Where are they, then?”

Minho doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his chin toward you, and the smirk he’s been holding back finally breaks through. “Right there.”

changbin — 'guy.exe: 6 5'6 feet tall and super strong'

a matte black dumbbell rolled from Changbin’s grip and thudded against the rubber gym floor. He’d been at it for two hours— shoulders, back, arms, a relentless workout that left his top sticking to his skin in abstract patches of sweat. You watched from the bench near the water cooler, half hidden behind your phone, pretending to scroll while stealing glances at the way his muscles flexed under the lights.

Three years together, and the sight of him still made your pulse skip.

The gym was mostly empty, mid afternoon lull, just a few die hards and the staff wiping down machines. You’d come straight from work, still in your office slacks, your hair barely holding onto its ponytail. Changbin had texted earlier with a come keep me company and a winking emoji. who were you to turn down an excuse to watch your boyfriend work out?

A woman, early twenties, in one of those matching pink gym sets, hovered near Changbin’s bench while he adjusted the weight rack. You caught the tail end of her question, something about his deadlift form, but then she made her move. "Damn tho, you’re built like a god. Single?"

Changbin snorted, wiping his forearm across his forehead.. "Do I look single?" he said, shaking his head like the idea was ridiculous. Then, without hesitation, he tilted his chin toward you standing a few feet away, there, and grinned. "That’s my girl."

The woman followed his gaze, blinking at you like she’d only just noticed the water cooler, the benches, the entire half of the gym you occupied. You raised your hand in a half wave. "Sorry," he added, not sounding sorry at all.

You expected her to leave, but she just smirked, propping a hand on her waist. "Lucky girl," she said, loud enough for you to hear. then, to Changbin "You ever wanna trade up, you know where to find me." yikes.

Changbin’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows did a little jump, He shot you a look—girl you seein' this?—before shrugging. "Nah," he said, casual as anything. "I’m good." He moved towards you and planted a kiss on your cheek, "Better than good."

hyunjin — 'hopelessly devoted to you'

You and Hyunjin had been neighbors in that crumbling apartment complex where the pipes groaned louder than the tenants, and your first real conversation happened because he'd left his studio door ajar.

The scent of paint had pulled you in like a lure, and there he was, sleeves rolled up, forearms smeared with charcoal, halfway through painting something that looked like a storm given human form. and you were mesmerized.

By the time you started dating, you'd learned to love the mess of him — the way his hair stuck up in every direction after hours of working, the paint streaks on his jeans, the fact that he'd forget to eat unless you nudged a takeout container into his line of sight. He balanced his chaotic creativity with a quiet steadiness that surprised you.

his art thrived on bold strokes and screaming colors, his love language was more subtle, warming your cold fingers between his palms, humming off key to your favorite songs while he cooked food for you, tracing the curve of your shoulder blade when he thought you were asleep.

The gallery showing was his first major one. You'd watched him prepare for weeks. frames piling up near the door, muttered debates about lighting choices at 3 am. When the invitations finally arrived, he'd handed yours over, "You don't have to come," he'd said, but you knew he wanted you to be there.

You'd kissed the worry from his forehead and tucked the invitation into your wallet, where it stayed until the corners softened from handling.

Now, standing near a table with a champagne flute you hadn't touched, you watched him work the room. Hyunjin moved through the crowd like water, slipping effortlessly between conversations without ever seeming anchored to any one group.

His laugh carried over the murmur of guests, and you felt that familiar warmth curl behind your ribs. This was his element, even if he'd never admit it. The way people leaned in when he spoke, how their eyes flicked toward his hands when he gestured — he commanded attention without trying, and you loved him most like this, alive with his passion.

The girl approaching him now had been circling for a while. You'd noticed her earlier, lingering near his largest piece, her head tilted in a way that suggested admiration.

When she touched Hyunjin's elbow, you saw him startle slightly before turning with that polite smile he reserved for strangers.

You couldn't hear them over the gallery's din, but her body language was clear. fingers tucking hair behind her ear, the slight lean forward. Hyunjin nodded along, hands stuffed in his pockets, already scanning the room for an exit.

You didn’t move, not yet anyway, because part of you wanted to see how he’d handle it.

That’s when he saw you. His eyes flicked over her shoulder, and something in his face shifted, relief.

You stood from the table, weaving through the crowd, the girl hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting her chin up at him, one hand now resting on her collarbone.

“...really think we should discuss your technique, over some coffee?” she was saying as you slid into place beside him, close enough that your hip brushed his.

Hyunjin exhaled, barely audible, as you laced your fingers through his. His palm was warm, slightly damp from nerves, and you squeezed once, “Oh, he’d love that,” you said, sweetly. The girl blinked, her smile freezing as you added, “I’ll come too, I’m his girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice before you even looked towards him. “she's my muse.”

jisung — 'everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet'

"Jisung." You poked his shoulder with your socked foot from where you were sprawled across the couch. "I will perish."

He didn’t look up from his phone, thumb scrolling lazily. "Dramatic."

"No, listen—" You rolled onto your stomach, pressing your cheek against the cushions. "My stomach is eating itself."

This time, he glanced over, one eyebrow raised. "You just ate two hours ago."

"Snacks aren’t food," you said gravely.

Jisung sighed, tossing his phone onto the coffee table with a soft clatter. "Fine," he said, dragging the word out like it physically pained him. "But if I'm going out in the middle of the night, you're eating the weird gummy worms I pick out."

You grinned, kicking your legs against the couch cushions. "Deal."

The convenience store felt both too bright and eerily empty at 1 AM. Jisung grabbed a basket, tossing in the usual suspects, chips, chocolate, those inexplicably neon gummy worms, and went over to the counter to pay when the cashier leaned over the counter. "You again," she said, grinning. "Third time this week."

Jisung blinked, setting the basket on the counter "Uh, yeah."

she picked up the contents, scanning each one as she went on. "I mean, you could be here for the snacks or whatever ," she said, waving a hand, "or you could admit you keep showing up for the ambiance." Her grin widened. "And by ambiance, I mean me."

jisungs mouth gaped, "Oh no, no, I'm—Married. Very, extremely married." then he pulled out his wallet, flipping it to the clear plastic sleeve where a polaroid of both of you rested. one where you were kissing his cheek and he had a big, wide grin on his face, then pulled out his card to pay.

she blinked, her grin faltering for half a second before she leaned back, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalances as she took the card from his hand "Damn," she said, clicking her tongue. "Figures the cute ones are always taken."

The apartment was dark when he got back, you were still in your spot on the couch, waiting impatiently for him. "Finally"

Jisung let the door slam shut behind him, you barely had time to process the dramatic thud before he was crossing the room in three long strides, arms outstretched, the plastic bag dangling from one hand.

He crashed into you with the force of a man who’d just survived a warzone, his face buried in the crook of your neck before you could even ask what was wrong. “I got hit on,” he mumbled into your skin, voice muffled.

You blinked, arms frozen mid-air around him, the crinkling snack bag pressed awkwardly between your ribs. “...By who?”

“The cashier,” he hissed, His cheeks were still flushed, the tips of his ears pink like he’d sprinted home instead of walked. “you’re coming with me next time. No. More. Solo. Snack. Runs.”

felix — 'the perfect pair'

the first time Felix walked into the community kitchen, he nearly dropped an entire tray of freshly chopped carrots.

You'd been there six months already — long enough to know that the dented metal tray was older than both of you combined, and that the carrots were destined for a stew that would feed sixty. You lunged without thinking, catching the edge just as it tipped, fingertips brushing against his.

"Thanks," he said, his sleeves were already rolled up past his elbows, "I swear I'm usually better at carrying things."

Felix still drops things sometimes, never the carrots again, but last month it was a spoonful of cinnamon that poofed into a cloud across the counter. You laughed so hard your ribs ached, and he grinned like he'd meant to do it, like every little accident was just an excuse to hear you laugh.

Now, twelve months deep into this rhythm — Saturday mornings at the kitchen, Sunday afternoons tangled in his double bed, it's your little routine now.

This morning, he's leaning against the fridge, peeling labels off donated jam jars while humming off key. "Mrs. eom asked if we're doing the pumpkin soup again," he says, glancing at you. "Told her we'd have to check with the boss." He winks. You're not the boss. There is no boss. But this is Felix's favorite joke, his way of stitching you into the center of his stories, even when you're just scrubbing pans in the corner.

this new volunteer has been hovering around him all morning. You recognize the tilt of her head, she keeps finding reasons to step into his space, keeps finding reasons to strike up conversations, and he's too kind to turn her down on the get go.

she might've mistaked his kindness for something else though.

He's handing her a knife to chop chilis when she "accidentally" grazes his wrist. "You're always so patient with everyone," she says, he replies with a simple "thank you", polite as ever, but you could tell he was uncomfortable.

You don't move. Because Felix is already walking over to your station, he bumps his forehead lightly against your temple "Rescue me," he murmurs into your hair, and you can feel her stare burning holes in your back.

"Tell her yourself," you whisper, amused. you're already reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. Felix exhales, relieved, before turning back to her with that easy smile.

"Oh! Almost forgot," he says brightly "This is my favorite person. The reason I never miss a Saturday."

And just like that, the room tilts back into place, Felix glowing like always, you beside him, and the quiet understanding that some things, like this kitchen, like his hand in yours, aren't up for grabs.

seungmin — 'I'd risk it all for you '

stadium lights blazed down, bright enough as if the sun was still up, turning the sweat on Seungmin’s skin into glitter. He wiped his forearm across his brow, smearing a streak of infield dirt in the process, and grinned at the roar of the crowd still thrumming through the stands. The mic in his hand was warm from being passed around, and the interviewer, was standing just a little too close. Her perfume was floral, aggressive.

"Kim Seungmin," she said, "Another incredible performance tonight. That last play — were you trying to give your fans a heart attack?"

Seungmin laughed, easy and practiced, the sound swallowed up by the noise around them. "Nah, just wanted to keep things interesting." He shrugged, adjusting the cap perched on his damp hair. The fabric of his jersey clung to his shoulders, heavy with sweat and adrenaline.

"Interesting is one word for it." She tilted her head, leaning in enough that the mic brushed his chest. "You’ve been on a hot streak this season. What’s driving you?"

Seungmin exhaled through his nose, a quick, amused breath. "Same thing as always," he said, gaze drifting past the interviewer's shoulder toward the stands. "Love of the game."

"That’s it? Just pure passion? No special someone in the stands tonight?"

Seungmin let the silence stretch just long enough for the tension to coil — then, he spoke again, "Actually," he said slowly, "yeah. My girlfriend’s here."

The interviewer blinked. The mic slipped a fraction in her grip.

The crowd erupted, a collective 'ohhh' rippling through the stands. Somewhere in the noise, someone wolf whistled. Seungmin didn’t react, just kept that easy, knowing smile, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

"we've been together since college," he continued, voice carrying effortlessly over the din. The interviewer recovered quickly, professionalism snapping back into place, but her grip on the mic was tighter now.

“That’s sweet,” she said, and it wasn’t insincere, “Care to share more? The fans would love to hear.”

Seungmin’s gaze flicked back to where you were sitting — third baseline, five rows up, right where you always were, and his expression softened. “She hates when I talk about her in interviews,” he admitted, laughing under his breath. “But she’s the reason I don’t overthink pitches. And the reason I do stretch before games.”

The interviewer opened her mouth, probably to pivot back to safer baseball territory, but the cameraman beat her to it, swinging the lens abruptly toward the stands. The stadium screen flickered, then locked onto your face, blown up fifty feet tall for thirty thousand people to see.

Your lips parted in surprise, the nacho you’d been mid bite hovering forgotten in your hand. Seungmin’s chuckle echoed through the speakers, "There she is,"

A nearby fan elbowed you, grinning. "Girl, you’re famous now!" she stage whispered. Your cheeks burned, but you managed a small wave at the camera, awkward, The crowd ate it up, cooed like it was the cutest thing they’d ever seen.

On screen, Seungmin’s smile went crooked, like he was trying not to laugh at you. "See?" he told the interviewer, nodding toward the screen. "Told you she hates this." The mic caught the rasp in his voice, the one that only showed up when he was tired or fond. Tonight, it was both.

Jeongin — 'love struck girl, I'd tease her.'

"You would pick the one night we’re out of ice cream to confess you like me," Jeongin had said that night two years ago, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He’d been holding a half melted pint of strawberry between you like a peace offering, or maybe a shield.

The confession had been an accident, words slipping out during one of those aimless midnight drives where the radio played nothing but old love songs and static.

You’d blamed the music, blamed the summer heat, blamed the way he’d drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat.

But Jeongin, ever meticulous, had pulled into the nearest convenience store parking lot, then returned with the ice cream as if that solved anything. but it only got that confession out of you that was begging to crawl out of your throat days prior.

Now, standing in the crowded glow of your friends apartment, you watch Jeongin from across the room. He’s holding a drink he hasn’t sipped yet, nodding as some woman you don’t recognize — a friend of a friend, probably — talks animatedly about something.

The way she gestures tells you it’s a story, not small talk. Jeongin’s always been a good listener, the kind who leans in just enough to make people feel heard, but tonight there’s a stiffness in his shoulders you recognize.

Hyunjin bumps your elbow with a fresh beer. "You’re staring," he sing songs under his breath.

You take the bottle without looking. "I’m observing."

"Same thing." He follows your gaze, then snorts. "Oh, her. She’s new. Felix invited her. Something about crypto startups? I tuned out after 'blockchain.'"

The woman— crypto girl —leans closer to Jeongin, her hand brushing his sleeve as she laughs. You don’t move. Jeongin’s fingers twitch against his glass, then still.

Then, clear across the room "So… are you single?"

Hyunjin chokes on his drink.

Jeongin blinks, caught off guard. For a second, he looks like he might laugh it off, might deflect like he used to when strangers flirted with him at bars back when you were just friends. But then his gaze flicks to you and his posture shifts.

"No," he says, quieter than usual. "I’m engaged."

Crypto girl’s eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I wouldn’t have guessed."

Before she can say more, you’re crossing the room, setting your beer down on the table beside Jeongin with a clink. "What wouldn’t you have guessed?" you ask, voice light.

Jeongin exhales, something close to relief. His fingers find yours without hesitation "That I’m taken," he says, squeezing your hand.

Crypto girl’s smile falters. "Ah. My bad." She retreats with a half hearted salute, already scanning the room for someone else to talk to.

Jeongin watches her go, then turns to you, sheepish. "Sorry."

"You’re apologizing for existing attractively now?" you tease, bumping his shoulder.

He rolls his eyes, but his thumb traces circles over your knuckles. "Shut up."

a/n: I hope at least one person gets all the lyrical references I made in this or I might just cry

"That necklace doesn't exactly match your usual aesthetic," he teased, tilting his head. "Hand it over."

You turned slowly to face him, a smirk curling on your lips beneath your own mask. The city lights painted both of you in shifting hues of blue and pink as you straightened up, rolling your shoulders with feline grace.

"And here I thought you'd finally learned to mind your own business, Spidey," you purred, voice smooth and teasing. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to crash a girl's private party?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm even through the mask. "Only when the girl in question keeps stealing things that don't belong to her." He took one graceful step closer, head cocked. "C'mon, Black Cat. Don't make me chase you again. You know how much I enjoy it."

The tension between you crackled like electricity in the night air, familiar, dangerous, and undeniably thrilling.

You let out a soft, mischievous giggle that danced through the night air, the sound light and taunting. You took a few graceful steps backward until the heels of your boots were right at the very edge of the rooftop. The vast city sprawled endlessly behind you, a glittering sea of ​​lights and concrete far below.

With your back to the dizzying drop, you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with playful challenge beneath your mask.

"Catch me, Spidey!" you purred, voice dripping with sweetness.

Then, without hesitation, you let yourself fall.

You tipped backwards off the ledge, arms spread like wings as gravity claimed you. The wind rushed violently past your ears, whipping your hair as you plummeted through the cool night air. For a split second, the world became a thrilling blur of neon and stars.

A heartbeat later, you heard his familiar shout, half exasperated, half exhilarated.

"Seriously!? Again!?"

The wind roared past you as you dropped through the open air. Seconds later, you heard Spider-Man's familiar shout as he dove after you like a crimson bullet.

"Got you-!"

He reached out with both arms, ready to catch you against his chest. At the very last moment, you twisted your body with feline grace, spinning mid-air like a black shadow. His fingers barely brushed your suit before you slipped through his grasp.

You fired your grappling claw towards the opposite building, swinging yourself smoothly onto an open balcony on a lower floor. The landing was silent and perfect.

Spider-Man was left soaring past you, still carried by his momentum through the night sky. He quickly shot a web and swung back around, landing on the railing of the balcony you were standing on.

You turned to face him, mask hiding your smirk. The city lights painted your figure in shades of violet and silver as you gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"Till next time, Spider-Man," you purred softly, voice full of playful promise.

Before he could lunge forward, you blew him a teasing kiss, turned on your heel, and disappeared into the dark hallway of the building like smoke, silent, graceful, and completely untouchable. Just like the black cat you were.

Spider-Man stood frozen on the railing for a moment, staring at the empty space where you had just been. He let out a long, amused sigh and shook his head, a reluctant laugh escaping him.

He was about to swing away when something small and glossy on the floor caught his attention.

A tube of red lipstick.

He raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, a faint, amused smile forming on his lips as he crouched down and picked it up. The lipstick was elegant, sleek black casing with a silver accent. He turned it over in his fingers, still slightly warm.

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Now, that's interesting." he murmured, amused. "I shall hold this thing for you for now, Kitty."

He knew you well enough to understand this wasn't intentional. You were always precise, always in control. The fact that your lipstick had fallen without you realizing it made the discovery feel strangely intimate.

He popped the cap open for a moment, staring at the bold red shade before closing it again. With a small smirk, he tucked the lipstick safely into a hidden pocket on his suit.

He shot a web towards the next building and launched himself back into the night sky, the city lights blurring around him. Even as he swung through Seoul, the faint smile never left his face.

Meanwhile, several buildings away, you moved silently across rooftops, completely unaware that you had left a small trace of yourself behind.

--

"Well, this is new," Jisung drawled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. "Never thought the ever-so-punctual Y/N could be late to class too."

You rolled your eyes and let out a heavy sigh the moment you heard his voice. Of all days, he just had to be your seatmate today. It wasn't that you hated him, really. Far from it-but your morning had already been a disaster, and the last thing you needed was his teasing.

"Don't start," you muttered, dropping into the chair beside him with more force than necessary. You shoved your bag under the desk and ran a hand through your slightly messy hair, still feeling irritated.

Jisung tilted his head, studying your face with open curiosity. His playful smile didn't fade even a little.

"Rough morning?" he asked, voice softer this time, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

"Worst," you replied flatly, exhaling through your nose as you slumped forward, resting your chin against your palm on the desk.

Jisung turned in his seat to face you properly, his usual playful expression softening a little.

"I could tell," he said. "You barely wore any makeup today. Woke up late?"

You shook your head.

"I spent the entire morning looking for my favorite lipstick," you grumbled. "The red one I always wear. I swear I left it on my desk last night but I couldn't find it anywhere. Had to leave the house bare-faced because of it."

"Oh, yikes," Jisung said, trying his best to sound genuinely sympathetic. "That sucks. You really like that one, right?"

"Yeah," you sighed, clearly still annoyed. "Now I feel weirdly naked without it."

Jisung leaned his cheek against his hand, watching you with a small, comforting smile

"Well, you still look pretty even without it," he said casually, then quickly added with a teasing grin, "-but I get it. Girl things are important."

You let out a small huff, somewhere between annoyed and amused, and gently bumped his arm with your elbow.

"Shut up."

Just as you were about to reply, the classroom door opened and Professor Kim walked in, looking slightly hurried.

"Morning, class. Let's jump right in," he said, setting his laptop on the desk. "We're starting a major project today. It will count for 35% of your final grade."

He projected the assignment on the screen. The title read: "Innovative Solutions in Environmental Science."

"You'll be working in pairs. The task is to choose a real-world environmental problem, conduct research, design a scientific solution or prototype, and present your findings with supporting data. This includes literature review, methodology, and experimental design."

A wave of murmurs and a few groans filled the room. Professor Kim smiled . "And I've already assigned the pairs randomly."

He began reading from his list. When he reached your name, your stomach dropped slightly.

"Y/N..." he paused, "and Han Jisung."

You slowly turned your head towards Jisung. He was already looking at you with a bright, cheeky grin, clearly entertained by his luck.

"No way," he whispered, leaning closer. You let out a long, tired sigh and dropped your forehead onto the desk.

"How unlucky." you mumbled.

Jisung chuckled softly, nudging your arm playfully.

"Hey, don't sound so heartbroken. I'm actually really good at science, you know," he teased. "Plus, now I have to help you find that missing lipstick. Can't have my project partner in a bad mood the whole time."

You turned your head on the desk to glare at him with one eye. He just smiled wider, looking far too happy about this arrangement.

"Partners?" he asked, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand for a second before reluctantly giving him a weak high-five.

"...Partners," you groaned.

The weekend arrived wrapped in velvet darkness.You moved like liquid shadow across the rooftops of Seoul's most exclusive district. The cool night wind pressed against your sleek black suit as you slipped in and out of the heavily guarded mansion. Minutes later, the 637-carat diamond necklace rested heavily against your chest, its weight warm and satisfying.You were perched on the edge of a tall glass building when his voice rang out behind you, smooth and teasing.

"Stealing from corrupt politicians now, Kitty? That's bold, even for you."

You turned with a smirk, silver claws glinting under the moonlight. Spider-Man stood on the adjacent rooftop, his red-and-black suit glowing against the neon cityscape, the white spider emblem bold across his chest.

You let out a soft, playful laugh. "What can I say? I have excellent taste," you purred, tilting your head. "Besides, this necklace would look much better decorating my neck than his greasy one. Don't you agree, Spidey?"

He took a graceful step closer, head tilted in amusement.

"I'd say it would look even better in a museum. Or better yet..." His mask lenses narrowed playfully, "in my hand after I catch you."

You grinned beneath your mask and took a few steps back, muscles coiled like a spring.

"Then come and get it," you challenged sweetly. Without another word, you spun and leapt off the building. The chase began. You soared through the night, landing lightly on the next rooftop before immediately jumping again. Spider-Man was right behind you, swinging gracefully from building to building with powerful webs.

"You're getting slower, Kitty!" he called out mid-swing, voice full of teasing affection. "Or maybe you just like it when I chase you?"

You landed on a narrow glass ledge and shot him a sultry look over your shoulder. "Maybe I do," you replied flirtatiously, voice carrying through the wind. "It's cute watching you try so hard to keep up with me."

He laughed—bright and warm—as he swung closer. "Cute? I'll show you cute when I finally catch you and pin you against a wall."

Your laughter rang out like bells as you leapt to the next building, heart racing with thrill. You glanced back at him, eyes sparkling with challenge.

"Promises, promises, Spider-Boy. You've been saying that for months, yet here I am... still one step ahead."

The two of you danced across the Seoul skyline, a dangerous, flirtatious game of cat and spider. Every jump, every swing, every teasing word crackled with electricity between you. But in the middle of a particularly daring leap to a lower rooftop, you miscalculated.

Your hand slipped on the wet concrete edge. A sharp cry escaped your lips as pain tore through your right palm. You landed hard, rolling across the rooftop, warm blood instantly soaking through your glove.You clutched your injured hand to your chest, teeth gritted against the burning pain.

Spider-Man landed a few meters away, concern flashing in his lenses. "Kitty—?!"

Before he could reach you, you forced yourself up and fired your grappling claw, swinging away into the darkness once more. You disappeared between two buildings like a shadow swallowed by night. Even wounded, you still escaped.

--

The image of you—Black Cat— clutching your bleeding hand refused to leave Jisung's mind. All week long, he kept replaying that moment, the sharp cry you tried to hide, the way you still forced yourself to keep running despite the injury. Every night he swung through the city, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you, just to make sure you were okay. But you hadn't appeared again.

Even now, as he stood in front of his closet on Saturday afternoon, Jisung was still distracted.

"Shit..." he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. He had spent the entire week half-present. During lectures, during practice, even while hanging out with the guys, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The flirty, untouchable Black Cat who always slipped through his fingers. The same girl who got hurt because he had been chasing her too aggressively.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he finally grabbed a simple black hoodie and threw it on. It was only when his phone buzzed with a new message that reality hit him like a truck.

You: Hey, are you still coming over today? It's already 2:30 pm.

Jisung blinked at the screen, eyes widening in panic.

"Fuck. It's already Saturday?" He had completely lost track of time. The project meeting with you had completely slipped his mind. He quickly typed back.

Jisung: Shit sorry!! I'm on my way right now. Give me 15 minutes.

Grabbing his bag and notebook, Jisung rushed out of the dorm, still mentally distracted. Even as he walked toward your apartment, his thoughts kept circling back to Black Cat.

Is her hand okay? Did she patch it up properly? Why the hell do I even care this much...?

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away as he finally reached your building. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell to your unit.When you opened the door, Jisung offered an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey... sorry I'm late. I kind of... lost track of time."

You raised an eyebrow, noticing how slightly disheveled he looked. He seemed more distracted than usual.

Jisung stepped inside your apartment, still trying to shake off the fog in his head. He was about to apologize again for being late when his eyes casually swept over you, and then froze. Your right hand was wrapped in a medical cast. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, concern flashing across his face. The playful, distracted expression he wore just seconds ago completely vanished.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, voice suddenly serious. He took a small step closer, eyes locked on the white cast. "That looks pretty bad... Did you get into an accident?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "It's nothing serious. I just slipped and fell the other night. Landed on it wrong."

But Jisung wasn't convinced. His gaze lingered on the cast a second longer, and suddenly, his mind violently flashed back to that night.

Black Cat.

The way she had cried out in pain mid-jump. The way she clutched her right hand to her chest before disappearing into the shadows. The blood he had seen glistening under the moonlight.

His stomach twisted.

No... It can't be.

That's when Jisung remembered something. He dropped his bag on the floor beside the couch and crouched down to rummage through it.

"Is this yours?" he asked, pulling out a familiar sleek black tube with silver accents and held it up.

Your eyes widened the second you saw it. Without thinking, you lunged forward and snatched the lipstick out of his hand in a panic, clutching it tightly against your chest.

"Where did you get this?!" you asked sharply, voice a little too high.

Jisung blinked at your sudden reaction, slightly taken aback. "I found it on the floor in the hallway outside the lecture hall last week,"

You stared at him, heart hammering wildly in your chest. Your fingers tightened around the lipstick like it was a lifeline. For a split second, a wave of paranoia washed over you. Did he know? Could he possibly suspect anything?

Jisung tilted his head, watching your reaction with curious eyes. He noticed how tense you suddenly became, how tightly you were gripping the lipstick.

And then... the pieces started clicking together in his mind. The right hand injury, exactly where Black Cat had hurt herself that night. The same red lipstick he had picked up after she disappeared. The way you just panicked the moment he showed it to you.

No way...

He tried to push the thought away, but it kept growing louder. Jisung felt his heartbeat pick up. "You okay?" Jisung asked, forcing his voice to stay light even though his mind was spiraling. "You look really pale all of a sudden."

You quickly slipped the lipstick into your pocket and tried to act normal. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just surprised you found it. Thanks."

Jisung smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. His gaze lingered on your cast once more.

"Then I guess I'm glad I kept it for you."

-- 

The next few weeks blurred into a tense routine. On weekdays, you and Jisung met at the library to finish the remaining sections of their research paper, the deadline now looming just a month away. The quiet corner they had once claimed felt smaller each time, the air thicker with everything unsaid.

Conversations stayed painfully polite—short exchanges about citations, methodology, and formatting. Every sentence was measured. Every glance carefully guarded. You both walked on eggshells, hyper-aware that a single slip, a careless word, or an unguarded expression could unravel the fragile secrets you'd both been hiding for so long.

Yet the nights told a different story.

Jisung's suspicions had grown into a storm he could no longer ignore. Every weekend, after parting ways with Black Cat beneath the city lights, he would see you the next morning bearing fresh marks of the battles they had fought together.

A vicious slash across Black Cat's cheek became a thin band-aid on your face by Monday morning. A deliberate trip in a narrow alley—one he had staged to test his theory—left you limping into the library the following day, your steps stiff and uneven. Each minor injury he inflicted on Black Cat, even though guilt twisted in his chest every time, appeared on your body like an undeniable signature.

He hated himself for it. But the evidence kept piling up, too consistent to be coincidence. The way you winced when you reached for a book. The fresh bruise on your wrist that matched the one he'd left on Black Cat's. The way your eyes would flicker with quiet panic whenever his gaze lingered too long on your injuries.

The more he tested the connection, the more certain he became.

Jisung made up his mind. Tonight, everything would end, one way or another. He knew about the ruby. He had overheard you muttering about it during one of your late-night rooftop conversations as Black Cat. The legendary Crimson Heart, a blood-red gem recently "donated" by a reclusive billionaire to the City Museum of Antiquities. The official story was polished and perfect. You both knew better. The ruby was stolen, another glittering piece of corruption hidden behind glass and security lasers.

He didn't plan to stop the heist. He planned to confront you in the middle of it. As Spiderman, he swung through the rain-slicked streets, heart pounding harder than it had in months. The cool night air did nothing to calm the storm inside him. Part of him still desperately hoped he was wrong. That the girl who sat beside him during classes, the one who never backed down when it comes to bickering with him wasn't the same person who danced across rooftops with him as Black Cat. That the consequences hadn't bound their fates together in such a cruel, intimate way. But deep down, he already knew.

"I knew you'd be here."

Your head snapped toward the voice, heart jolting in your chest. There he stood—Spiderman—perched at the far edge of the opposite rooftop, silhouetted against the glittering city skyline. The red and blue of his suit caught the moonlight, making him look almost unreal.

"Spidey," you mused, a playful lilt curving your lips beneath the mask. You tilted your head, letting the teasing tone drip like honey. "You're always where I am. At this rate, I might start thinking you've already fallen for me."

A low chuckle rumbled from Spiderman's chest, the sound surprisingly soft against the steady patter of rain. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he swung forward, landing just a few steps closer on the same rooftop.

Your body tensed instantly, every instinct screaming at you to stay alert.

"Hm?" He tilted his head, voice laced with something unreadable. "Why are you stepping away from me?" He took another slow step forward, rain sliding down the sleek surface of his suit like liquid shadows. "Don't tell me you're suddenly afraid of me."

Your stomach dropped. You forced out a soft, disbelieving laugh, trying to cling to your usual playful confidence. "Me? Afraid of you?" You took another careful step back, the edge of the rooftop now much closer than you liked. "Oh, Spidey..."

But every time he moved forward, you mirrored him with a step back. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs, loud enough that you wondered if he could hear it through the rain. A nervous gulp betrayed you as your fingers twitched, ready to summon your claws at any moment.

"Y/N."

Your breath hitched sharply, the sound catching in your throat like a blade. The world seemed to tilt for a second. He had said your name with quiet certainty, as if it belonged on his tongue.

He knows. He fucking knows who you are. Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. How? When? Who the hell was he beneath that mask?

You forced a breathless, disbelieving laugh, taking another instinctive step back. "Who are you calling Y/N?" Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with defensive edge. "You've got the wrong person, Spiderman."

"I wouldn't say a name if I wasn't confident about who you are. I know you're exactly who I think you are."

You pressed your lips together, your grip tightening around the jewel hidden behind your back. A nervous laugh almost escaped you, but you swallowed it down.

"I think all this chasing has been giving you the wrong idea," you said, shaking your head lightly. "I'm sorry, but I think we should end this here. This—"

The rest of your sentence got stuck in your throat.

A rustling sound came from him. At first, you thought he was simply shifting his weight, but then your eyes caught the movement of his hands rising toward his mask. Your brows furrowed in confusion. For a second, you could only stare as his fingers hooked beneath the fabric.

Wait. What was he doing?

Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he pulled the mask away from his face. The moment the fabric fell, your entire body went still.

Brown eyes met yours. Warm, familiar brown eyes. Your breath caught as your mind scrambled to make sense of what you were seeing. The face in front of you was one you knew. One you had seen countless times before. Without his usual glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, he looked different enough to throw you off for a second, but not different enough to hide who he was.

Han Jisung.

The name echoed in your head as you stared at him, unable to look away. Out of everyone, every single person, you could have expected to find beneath that mask, Han Jisung had never once crossed your mind.

"Jisung..." you breathed, the name slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Of course he heard. He was Spiderman, after all.

The moment his eyes met yours, panic surged through your chest. "I'm sorry—I need to go."

You didn't give him a chance to respond. Before he could say anything, you turned and leaped away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. The wind rushed past your ears, but it did little to quiet the frantic thoughts racing through your head.

Han Jisung was Spiderman.

No matter how many times you repeated it to yourself, it still didn't feel real. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, a mixture of shock and nervousness making it difficult to think straight. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to sit beside from him, talk to him, and pretend everything was normal after learning something like this?

The more you thought about it, the more your head spun.

The person you had spent months pining after, wondering about, chasing after without even realizing it, turned out to be someone who had been right beside you the entire time. Someone you laughed with, talked to, and saw almost every day.

You landed on a quiet rooftop far away from the city's glowing center and pulled your mask off, breathing hard. Your hands were trembling. It should have made things easier. Instead, it only made everything more complicated.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. Every conversation you'd ever had with him suddenly felt different, taking on a meaning you hadn't noticed before. Moments you once brushed off kept replaying in your mind, making you wonder how you had missed something so obvious.

That revelation alone was enough to keep you awake for nights, staring at your ceiling while the same thought circled endlessly through your mind.

The following weeks became a careful game of avoidance. Whenever Jisung tried to approach you after class, you'd suddenly remember something you forgot and rush off in the opposite direction.

Thankfully, the two of you had worked so efficiently that you finished most of the project ahead of schedule. There was no real reason for the two of you to meet anymore. That made avoiding him easier.

But Jisung was nothing if not persistent. He was determined. The questions in his head had grown too loud to ignore. He needed to hear the truth from your mouth. He needed to know if the girl he sat next to every week, the one who rolled her eyes at his jokes and snatched her lipstick in panic, was really the same person who made his heart race every night on the rooftops.

So on Thursday evening, without warning, he stood in front of your dorm room. He took a deep breath and knocked.

You were lounging on the couch in oversized clothes, hair messy, scrolling through your phone when the knock came. Thinking it was your roommate's boyfriend (who always came over unannounced), you didn't even bother checking.

"Coming!" you called out lazily.

You opened the door without a second thought. And froze.

Jisung stood there, hands in his hoodie pocket, looking unusually serious. His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

Without thinking, you moved to slam the door shut. But Jisung was faster. His arm shot out with surprising speed and strength, his palm slapping against the door just before it could close. The impact made the wood rattle. You pushed harder, but it barely budged, his arm was unyielding, muscles tense under his sleeve.

"Wait—" His voice was firm, but not aggressive. "Don't close the door. Please."

You stared at him, breathing heavily painfully aware of how close you two are now, only inches away from yours. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the mixture of confusion, determination, and something softer.

"I'm not leaving until we talk," he said quietly, still holding the door open with surprising ease. "You've been avoiding me all week. Running away every time I try to get close to you. Just like how she always run away from me."

You chewed on your  lower lip. Your eyebrows furrowing, whispering to yourself and praying to all the Gods and Goddesses you know that he should not asked that question.

"Is it you, Y/n? You're Black Cat, aren't you?"

With a sharp, frustrated exhale, you grabbed the front of his hoodie with your uninjured hand and yanked him inside the dorm before anyone could see him. Jisung stumbled slightly but didn't resist as you pulled him straight through the living room and into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a firm click.

The moment the door closed, you let go of him and took a step back, breathing heavily. The cast on your right hand suddenly felt like a glaring beacon between you two.

"What do you even want from me?" you snapped, voice sharper than you intended. "If you're looking for all the jewels I've stolen, none of them are here. I don't keep that stuff. I don't know what else you want me to say."

You took a shaky breath, eyes burning with a volatile mix of defiance and vulnerability as you glared at him.

"Sure, I'm Black Cat. And what about it?" Your voice cracked slightly. "Are you here to arrest me?"

Jisung stood near the center of your room, looking strangely out of place among your things. His eyes slowly drifted across your space. The neatly organized desk, the black hoodie hanging on the back of your chair, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air, before finally settling back on you.

He didn't speak right away.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and electric. You could see the storm of emotions behind his eyes. Shock, confusion, something else.

"I'm not here to arrest you," he said finally, his voice low and steady. "I'm not here as Spiderman right now."

He took one careful step closer, then stopped when he saw you tense up. "I just..." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I've spent the last week losing my mind trying to connect the dots. The injury on your hand, the lipstick, the way you move, the way you talk when we're on the rooftops... And then I realized it was you. The girl who sits next to me in class. The girl who rolls her eyes at my stupid jokes but still smiles when she thinks I'm not looking." Jisung's voice softened, almost pained.

"So yeah... I know you're Black Cat. But I'm not here to take you in or demand answers about what you've stolen." He looked straight into your eyes, vulnerable in a way you'd never seen from him before, not as Jisung, and certainly not as Spiderman.

"I'm here because I can't stop thinking about you. The real you. Both versions of you."

He swallowed hard, voice dropping to a near whisper. "So tell me... was any of it real? The flirting? The tension? Or was I just some game to you?" The air in your room felt impossibly thick as you stood there, back pressed against the door, heart racing wildly in your chest.

"Don't tell me you've seriously fallen for my other persona?" you said, forcing your voice to stay firm even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. "You must be losing your head if that's the case."

You tried to sound cold. Detached. You needed him to believe that this—whatever this was—could never work. You were a thief who lived in the shadows. He was a hero who protected the light. Nothing good ever came from crossing that line. You knew that better than anyone.

But Jisung didn't back away. Instead, he took a slow step closer, until your faces were only inches apart. His hand rose, pressing against the door beside your head, effectively caging you in without touching you. His warm breath brushed against your lips as he spoke.

"And if I do?" he breathed, the question hanging heavy between you. His eyes, dark, intense, and unwavering, searched yours desperately, looking for even the smallest crack in your armor. The playful, easygoing Jisung you knew from class was gone. In his place was someone raw, honest, and completely unguarded.

"If I told you I've fallen for both versions of you..." he continued, voice low and rough, "the girl who I argue most of the time, and the girl who makes my heart race every time she runs across rooftops... what of it then?"

Your back was pressed firmly against the door. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. His gaze never left yours, not even for a second, as if he was afraid you'd disappear the moment he blinked.

You opened your mouth to protest, heart racing wildly.

"Jisung, we can't— this isn't—"

But he didn't let you finish. Before the words could fully leave your lips, Jisung closed the remaining distance and captured your mouth with his. The kiss was sudden, urgent, and breathtaking. Like he had been holding back for far too long.

Your eyes widened in shock. Your hands instinctively rose to push against his chest, wanting to pull away, knowing this was dangerous, knowing you shouldn't let this happen. But the moment his warm, soft lips moved against yours, all your resolve crumbled. A quiet, helpless sound escaped your throat as your body betrayed you. Your clenched fists slowly loosened, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie instead of pushing him away. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into it, knees weakening under the intensity.

Jisung's hand slid from the door to gently cup the side of your face, tilting your head as he kissed you harder, pouring months of hidden tension, frustration, and longing into every movement. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You knew you should stop this. But God... his lips felt like heaven. The way he kissed you, desperate, tender, and hungry all at once made your mind go blissfully blank. A warm shiver ran down your spine as you finally gave in completely, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Your left hand rested gently against his chest while your other hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. A soft sigh slipped into his mouth as you surrendered to the feeling.

Jisung let out a low, shaky breath against your lips, like he couldn't believe this was really happening.

You barely had time to catch your breath. Jisung's hands slid down to the back of your thighs, gripping them firmly. With surprising strength, he lifted you up effortlessly. A startled gasp escaped your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He didn't hesitate. His mouth found yours again in a hungry, heated kiss as he carried you across the room.

Your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, kissing him back with just as much desperation. Every step he took sent sparks through your body. The feeling of being held so securely in his arms while his lips moved against yours made your head spin.

Jisung reached the edge of your bed and sat down, keeping you wrapped around him. He pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His hands stayed firmly on the back of your thighs, holding you flush against him.

He broke the kiss for just a second, breathing heavily against your lips, eyes dark with want.

"Tell me to stop..." he whispered, voice rough and low, "and I will."

But you didn't tell him to stop. Instead, you leaned in again, capturing his lips in a deeper, slower kiss. Jisung groaned softly into your mouth, one hand sliding up your back while the other stayed gripping your thigh, pulling you even closer. The warmth of his body, the way his chest rose and fell against yours, and the undeniable hardness growing beneath you made heat pool low in your stomach.

You rocked your hips slightly without thinking, drawing another quiet groan from him. His fingers flexed against your skin as he kissed you harder, tongues brushing, breaths mingling. Jisung pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with pure reverence and desire.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmured, voice husky. "How long I've wanted you."

Jisung's hands tightened on your thighs as he pulled you even closer on his lap. The kiss grew deeper, slower, heavier. No longer just desire, but months of unspoken longing finally breaking free.

"Can I?" he softly asked, as he try to lift your shirt up. Your eyes fluttering shut trying to look at him, and when you nodded your head giving him the permission he needed, he stopped hesitating.

He pulled your shirt over your head in one smooth motion, lips immediately attaching to your neck, sucking and kissing down your collarbone as his hands explored your bare skin. You moaned softly, arching into him. The feeling of his warm palms sliding up your back, unclasping your bra, and cupping your breasts made you shiver.

You tugged his hoodie and shirt off together, finally feeling his bare chest against yours. The heat of his skin, the firmness of his muscles, the way his heart pounded wildly under your palm, it was intoxicating.

Jisung flipped you gently onto your back, hovering over you as he kissed down your body with reverence. Every touch felt like worship. He took his time, lips brushing over your breasts, tongue circling your nipples until you were whimpering, hands gripping his hair. Lower and lower he went, until he was between your thighs, pulling your pants and underwear down in one go.

When his mouth found your core, you cried out, back arching off the bed. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. He ate you out like a man starved, slow, deep, and devoted. Like he had dreamed of tasting you for months.

"Jisung— fuck—" you moaned, thighs trembling around his head.

He didn't stop until you came hard on his tongue, gasping his name like a prayer.

Only then did he crawl back up, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his lips. You reached down, palming him through his pants before pushing them down. When you finally wrapped your hand around his hard, throbbing cock, Jisung let out a broken groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"Baby... I need you," he whispered, voice shaking with restraint.

Jisung pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, breathing ragged. His hand gently caressed your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, voice hoarse with need.

You answered by pulling him into a deep kiss. He pushed in slowly. A broken moan slipped from both of you as he stretched you open, inch by inch. Jisung's eyes fluttered shut, forehead pressed against yours as he sank deeper.

"Fuck... you're so tight," he breathed shakily, voice trembling with restraint.

You gasped softly at the fullness, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He kept going until he was buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, just feeling each other completely.

The stretch was perfect. The warmth. The way he throbbed inside you.

Jisung let out a soft, broken moan against your neck, his fingers digging gently into your hip. "You feel... so fucking good. I've been dreamed about this."

When he started moving, it was slow, deep rolls of his hips. Every thrust was deliberate, dragging against that perfect spot inside you. Soft, breathy moans filled the room as your bodies rocked together.

"Ah— Jisung..." you whimpered, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Fuck, say my name again."

"Jisung..."

He kissed you deeply as he picked up the pace just slightly, still making love to you rather than fucking you. Every thrust was long and sensual, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

You moaned softly in his mouth as a response, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the muscles shift under your fingers with every movement. The slow, steady rhythm made the pleasure build gradually, warmly, spreading through your entire body.

He angled his hips a little differently, and a sweeter, higher sound slipped from your lips. Jisung groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he kept that same perfect pace, thrusting deeper but never faster.

Neither of you spoke much, just soft gasps, quiet moans, and whispered names. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the way he throbbed inside you, the slight tremble in his arms as he held himself back. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, warm and heavy.

"I'm close..." you breathed, nails lightly pressing into his back.

"Me too," he whispered, voice strained. "Let go, baby."

A few more deep, smooth thrusts and you came with a soft, broken moan, clenching tightly around him. Jisung followed right after, burying himself deep as he groaned lowly against your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

Both of you trembled, breathing heavily in sync. Jisung stayed buried inside you for a long moment, placing lazy, gentle kisses along your shoulder and collarbone as you both came down from the high.

Silence settled over the room. The only sounds were your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside your window. Neither of you spoke right away. The weight of everything that had just happened slowly sank in. Your body was still buzzing with pleasure, your skin flushed and sensitive, while a deep, warm emotion bloomed in your chest.

Jisung's fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady but a little faster than normal. After a few minutes, he finally shatters the silence.

"...What does this make us?" he asked softly, his voice low and a little uncertain. His hand paused on your waist as he waited for your answer.

You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him. His eyes were warm, vulnerable, and full of quiet hope. For a moment, you just stared at him—this boy who was both your annoying seatmate and the hero who had chased you and made you feel so many emotions.

You let out a small breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "If you're okay dating someone like me... a thief," you said quietly, "then I guess we're dating?"

Jisung's eyes softened. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You lay quietly in Jisung's arms, your head resting on his chest as his fingers gently stroked up and down your back. The silence between you was comfortable now, warm and full of unspoken feelings.

After a while, Jisung spoke again, his voice soft against the top of your head.

"You know you're not just a thief, right?" When you lifted your head again slightly to look at him. He was already watching you, eyes gentle and sincere.

"One of the main reasons I never tried too hard to stop you from stealing those jewels... is because I know where they're going," he continued quietly. "Your methods might not be justified in everyone's eyes, but you're a hero too, Y/N. In your own way."

That acknowledgement hit you deeper than you expected. Your heart fluttered strongly in your chest, warmth spreading through your entire body. For so long, you had carried the weight of being the bad guy, the thief, the villain in someone else's story.

But hearing it from him—from Spiderman—made something inside you shift. You buried your face back into his chest, hiding the shy, emotional smile threatening to break out. Jisung chuckled softly and tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"Maybe... just maybe," you whispered against his skin, "falling for Spiderman wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Jisung smiled, a bright, heart-shaped grin you could feel even without looking. "Good," he murmured, voice full of affection. "Because you're stuck with me now, Kitty."

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

The final keystroke of your semester project sent a wave of relief so palpable it nearly knocked you sideways.

You slumped back into the couch cushions, arms flopping dramatically at your sides. "Done," you announced, voice hoarse from hours of revision. "We're done."

Jisung, who had been hovering over your shoulder, let out a cheer so loud it startled Chan into almost dropping his phone.

"We slayed that presentation," Jisung crowed, "Like obliterated it. Decimated. Annihilated-"

"Okay, we get it," Changbin interrupted, carrying three boxes of pizza, "But if you don't shut up and eat, I'm finishing your half."

Changbin dropped the pizza boxes onto the coffee table. Chan immediately lunged for a slice, Jisung snatched two before Changbin could even open the second box.

You reached for a slice of your own, the warmth of the cardboard seeping into your fingers as you took your first bite.

The exhaustion of the past seven weeks, staying up late to fine tune every slide, running through practice presentations, arguing over citation formats, finally melted away with the simple act of chewing.

Jisung, usually incapable of sitting still for more than thirty seconds, actually paused between bites, slumping against the couch cushions with a satisfied sigh.

It was strange, how comfortable you’d grown here - how easily you’d slipped into the rhythm of their apartment, their habits, their banter.

When the last slice disappeared, you gathered your things. Jisung, still sprawled on the couch, craned his neck to watch you pack up, and offered to walk you out, as usual, but you waved him off.

the campus pathways were still buzzing with students as it was still around 8pm.

You waved over your shoulder without looking back, calling out a lazy, "Bye, guys," as the dorm door clicked shut behind you.

The evening air was warm and humid, typical for early summer, and you barely made it halfway across the quad when the first fat raindrop splattered against your forehead.

You paused, blinking up at the sky. "You've got to be kidding me," you muttered.

Within a few minutes, your hair was damp, your shirt started clinging uncomfortably to your shoulders.

you continued walking, not that you had any other choice, your shoes making sad squelching noises with each step, when suddenly the raindrops abruptly stopped hitting you.

You blinked, staring at the sidewalk where water still splattered against the pavement mere inches from your feet. Then you turned your head.

Jisung stood beside you, holding an umbrella over your head with one hand while rainwater soaked his other half. raindrops drenched his shoulder, his bangs were slightly damp and clung to his forehead.

you stared at him for a second. he was breathless, chest heaving, "You," you said flatly, "are the least effective umbrella holder I've ever seen."

Jisung grinned, shaking his head like a wet dog and spraying water droplets everywhere. "Excuse you," he said, nudging the umbrella handle toward you. "I ran after you."

You blinked at him, "You-" you started, then stopped, "Why?"

Jisung shrugged, "Because I wanted to," he said simply.

The umbrella was small enough that you had to stand closer than usual to both stay under it. His arm brushed against yours as you walked, making you hyper aware of the unusual proximity.

"You're still getting wet," you pointed out, glancing at the way rainwater still soaked his shoulder that wasn't covered by the umbrella.

Jisung shrugged, shifting the umbrella slightly more toward you. "I'm already soaked. Doesn't matter."

"that's stupid," you muttered, but you didn't step away.

The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the umbrella as you walked, the sound muffling the usual campus noises.

For once, Jisung wasn't filling the silence with chatter, just walking beside you.

"You didn't have to do this," you said after a moment.

Jisung glanced at you, a slight smile forming. "I know."

The simplicity of his answer caught you off guard. You looked away, focusing on the puddles splashing beneath your feet.

A gust of wind sent rain spraying sideways, and Jisung instinctively shifted, angling himself between you and the worst of it. His shoulder bumped against yours, steadying you when you slipped on a slick patch of pavement.

"Careful," he murmured, his hand briefly brushing your elbow before he pulled away.

The rain slowed to a drizzle as you reached the covered walkway outside your dorm building, its roof shielding you from the worst of the weather. Jisung shook the umbrella out with a flick of his wrist, sending droplets scattering across the pavement.

"You didn't have to walk me all the way back," you said, watching as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

Jisung shrugged, "Would've been rude to leave you halfway."

"at least stay a bit till the rain dies down?" You leaned against the dorm's brick wall beneath the awning, the sound of rain pattering around you both. Jisung nodded, mirrored your posture.

after a moment of silence, "You're shivering," he noted, eyebrows knitting together.

"I'm fine," you lied, crossing your arms over your damp shirt.

Jisung then peeled off his hoodie. The motion made his tshirt ride up slightly, revealing a strip of skin that you very pointedly did not stare at.

"Here, it's less wet than yours" he said, dangling the garment in front of your face.

"you don't have to-"

"Do I have to put it on you myself?"

The mental image made your ears heat. "I'm capable of dressing myself, thanks." You snatched the hoodie, your fingers brushing against his.

The material was a little damp but still held the residual heat from his body as you pulled it over your head.

"There," he said, satisfied, reaching over to adjust the hood where it had caught on your ear. His fingers lingered for a heartbeat too long, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. "Now you look-"

"Like a drowned rat in your laundry?" you supplied.

Jisung's mouth quirked. "I was gonna say cute, but sure, let's go with that."

You froze.

Jisung seemed to realize what he'd said at the same time you did. His ears turned pink, "I mean- not that you're not usually- I just-"

"You're rambling," you pointed out,

"Yeah," he admitted, uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes flickered to your mouth, then back up.

The rain drummed above you both, creating a rhythm that drowned out everything else.

Jisung leaned in, just slightly. Your pulse kicked up as you tilted your head toward him. His lips parted slightly, and you closed your eyes, inching closer.

Three inches. Two.

Then, police sirens.

Jisung flinched backward, his head whipping toward the sound. your eyes snapped open.

The sirens wailed louder - close, too close - their flashing blue lights reflecting off the wet pavement in erratic pulses.

His entire body tensed, fingers twitching at his sides as if physically restraining himself from bolting toward the noise.

"You should-" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, already stepping back. "You should go inside before you catch a cold."

You blinked. "What? No, I-"

"I need to go," Jisung blurted out, already taking another step backward.

"You're leaving?" You gestured at the rain still sheeting down. "In this?"

Jisung hesitated for only a second longer, "I'm sorry," he said, already backing away, "I'll- I'll text you."

And then he was gone, sprinting into the rain without so much as a glance back, his sneakers splashing through puddles as he disappeared around the corner of the building.

You stared after him, the hoodie sleeves dangling over your hands, rainwater dripping from your hair onto the pavement.

"What the hell?" you muttered to no one.

~

The shower barely warmed up before you finished washing off the rain. but the borrowed hoodie made up for it as you towel dried your hair.

Your phone buzzed against the sink counter, screen lighting up with a notification from a news page on twitter. You tapped it absently while tugging the hoodie's sleeves over your palms.

Safety Alert: Vehicle collision near university campus. Avoid area. Emergency responders on scene.

You frowned at the timestamp- eight minutes ago. Right around when those sirens had interrupted whatever that was with Jisung.

Scrolling down revealed tweets already flooding in.

seoullights: SPIDER-MAN JUST WEBBED A CAR FROM HITTING A BUS.

chemmajorhell: did spiderman just yeet a sedan???

strayawayfromme: video proof before yall call cap

You tapped the blurry video thumbnail.

The footage was shaky, clearly filmed by someone sprinting away.

A silver sedan spun out of control toward an intersection. Then - spiderman dropped from nowhere, webbing the car’s front bumper mid skid and yanking it sideways. The sedan screeched to a halt inches from a bus.

The camera panned up, catching Spiderman perched on a traffic light, one arm outstretched with webbing still attached to the car. you could see his shoulders heaving. Then his voice cut through your phone speakers.

“Hey, watch the crosswalk!”

The video froze mid buffering, right as Spiderman swung off the traffic light, but not before you caught the jagged movement, the way his descent stuttered unnaturally.

The camera jerked away, but not before you saw the red blooming across his leg where something, a piece of debris, maybe - had clipped him mid swing.

The next frame showed him stumbling slightly on landing, one hand pressed to his thigh before he forced himself upright.

You stared at your phone screen long after the video had ended, thumb hovering over the replay button.

The timing was too convenient. Jisung bolting the second those sirens blared, Spiderman appearing minutes later, the uncanny similarities in their voices, their mannerisms.

It was ridiculous. Impossible. And yet-

Your fingers twitched toward your messages, halfway through typing "Did you just-" before deleting it with a frustrated sigh.

What exactly were you going to ask? "Did you just stop a car crash as Spiderman?" That sounded insane, even for Jisung.

You tossed your phone onto your bed, where it landed against your comforter.

Outside, the rain had slowed down, occasional droplets tapping against your window.

You peeled off Jisung’s hoodie and held it up, studying it, It was just a hoodie. A dumb, slightly damp hoodie that smelled like his cheap cologne.

You groaned, flopping backward onto your bed and dragging a pillow over your face. "I’m losing it," you muttered to the empty room.

Because no. There was no way.

Han Jisung was not swinging around the city saving people.

He disappeared at weird times, and yes, he had so many unexplained bruises, and okay, maybe his voice did sound eerily similar to Spiderman’s when he was being particularly smug.

but that didn’t mean anything. Coincidences happened.

You were just tired. Overworked. Probably hallucinating from sleep deprivation.

~

days passed.

With the semester project finally submitted, you allowed yourself the luxury of not pulling all nighters for once. sleeping in past sunrise, lingering over coffee in the campus café instead of gulping it down between lectures.

The relief felt like shedding a weighted vest you hadn’t realized you’d been wearing.

But the reprieve from academic stress only left more room for other thoughts to creep in.

You noticed things now.

The way Jisung winced when he stretched too far in class, how he’d disappear mid conversation only to text some excuse his supposed stomach problems.

You pushed the observations aside, each time. It was ridiculous. Coincidental. Probably.

other than that, things between you and Jisung were... fine.

If "fine" meant orbiting each other like awkward middle school crushes, both hyperaware of the almost kiss that neither of you acknowledged.

He still showed up to your shared lectures, but now there was a hesitation in his movements. like he was constantly stopping himself from reaching out to fix your hair or brush a crumb off your cheek.

It was infuriating. And confusing. And maybe a little endearing, not that you'd ever admit it.

Chan and Changbin, to their credit, pretended not to notice the shift. Mostly.

Changbin did once mutter "Just kiss already, Jesus" before, earning a kick under the table from Chan. Jisung had choked, and you’d smoothly pretended not to hear anything.

but at least you have free time now, and actually sleep properly for a change.

but you might've jinxed yourself on that part.

~

you were at a cafe on campus with yunjin, the straw of your iced coffee collapsed with an obnoxious crunch as you sucked up the last dregs, barely listening to Yunjin's enthusiastic rundown of the annual university fair's attractions.

"-and the engineering department is doing a robot battle arena, which sounds lame until you realize they weaponized Roomba vacuums," she was saying, waving a fry for emphasis. "Plus free cotton candy if you donate blood at the med tent, which, morally questionable, but-"

then, a hand clamped onto your shoulder. "You."

Professor Ann’s grip was firm, her manicured nails digging in just enough to make you freeze mid sip.

The head of the biotech department had the presence of a hurricane, and right now, her gaze pinned you to your seat like a specimen under glass.

Yunjin’s fry hovered halfway to her mouth. "Uh,"

Professor Ann didn’t wait for a proper response, just tightened her grip on your shoulder and steered you bodily out of the cafe booth, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she marched you toward the science building. "You’re coming with me," she announced, not bothering to check if you were keeping up.

"Did I fail something?" you blurted out, scrambling to match her stride.

Professor Ann snorted, pushing open the heavy double doors with one hand. "If you had, I wouldn’t be dragging you to help"

She guided you down a hallway lined with framed research posters, stopping abruptly outside a lab door labeled 'Advanced Robotics AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.'

Before you could process the warning sign, she shoved the door open with her shoulder. The lab was chaos, grad students hunched over circuit boards, undergrads scrambling with toolkits, and in the center of it all, looming like a sci fi monstrosity, stood a gleaming exoskeleton suit suspended on a display rig.

Professor Ann clapped once, sharp enough to cut through the noise. "Everyone, this is our missing piece."

A dozen exhausted faces swiveled toward you.

"she," Professor Ann continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, "is going to be the live demo operator for our showcase at the university festival next week."

You blinked. "I- what?"

"The neural interface needs a pilot with your exact cognitive profile," she said.

When you just stared, she sighed and grabbed a tablet off a nearby workstation, thrusting it into your hands. "Look. The suit’s responsiveness correlates with specific neural activity patterns - patterns you happen to excel at based on your neurobiology midterm scores."

The tablet displayed a graph you vaguely recognized from last semester’s lab, except someone had circled your data points in aggressive red marker.

One of the grad students, his lab coat streaked with what looked like motor oil, piped up. "We’ve been testing for weeks, and no one’s synced above 78% compatibility. Your scans hit 94%."

You gaped at the numbers. "That’s… not how brains work?"

Professor Ann waved a hand. "Technicalities. Point is, you’re our best shot at making this thing not faceplant during the demonstration."

A nervous laugh escaped you. "And if I say no?"

She smiled, the kind of smile that made you instinctively take a step back. "Then I reconsider your extra credit eligibility."

well, fuck.

You sighed, already resigning yourself to the inevitable. "Do I at least get hazard pay?"

Professor Ann patted your shoulder "You get bragging rights and a free tshirt."

The grad student handed you a stack of waivers thicker than your biochemistry textbook. "Mostly liability stuff," he assured you, "Also, you don't have to worry about your body strength. The suit does most of the heavy lifting."

You skimmed the first paragraph 'participant acknowledges risk of potential neural feedback, musculoskeletal strain, and/or unforeseen technological malfunction' before sighing and reaching for a pen.

Just when you thought you could get a breather.

~

Preparing for the university fair became the distraction you were grateful for, right up until it wasn’t.

The first few days were almost exhilarating. poring over schematics in the robotics lab, learning how to sync your movements with the exoskeleton’s hydraulic whirs, watching grad students argue over calibration settings.

It was a welcome reprieve from overthinking whatever the hell was going on with Jisung and spiderman.

Then the exhaustion hit.

you’d memorized the suit’s startup sequence faster than the engineers expected, but your hands shook from the overload, and your eyelids felt like sandpaper.

Professor Ann had you rehearsing the demo routine six times a day while undergrads adjusted sensors on your limbs like you were a mannequin. The suit itself was lighter than it looked, but after hours of testing, your shoulders ached from the pressure points, and your calves burned from the assisted jumps.

“You look like death warmed over,” Yunjin sai'd once, plopping down next to you in the cafeteria as you face planted onto the table.

The university fair preparations drained you in ways caffeine couldn't fix. By the fifth consecutive day in the robotics lab, you'd perfected the exosuit's startup sequence to a muscle memory beat - left knee actuator first, then right shoulder stabilizer, then the neural sync pulse that made your vision briefly pixelate. your hands developed a permanent tremor from exhaustion.

The suit's cooling vents whirred against your spine during particularly grueling rehearsals, doing little to combat the sweat soaking through your shirt as Professor Ann critiqued your form for the seventeenth time that hour.

"You're anticipating the jump instead of letting the suit assist," she called from her observation perch, tapping her tablet "It's making your landings sloppy."

You bit back the urge to snap at her, Instead, you wiped sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, careful not to dislodge the EEG sensors plastered across your forehead- and nodded. "Got it. Less anticipation, more... trusting the robot."

"Again," she commanded, tapping her tablet. "From the obstacle course sequence."

The suit whirred to life around you, servos clicking into place as the neural interface pinged your motor cortex with its familiar electric tingle.

You'd gotten used to the sensation, mostly, though the first time it happened, you'd yelped and nearly kneed a grad student in the face.

"Obstacle course sequence initiated," chimed the suit's automated voice, cheerful, like it wasn't about to fling you face first at a plywood wall.

You took off at a jog, letting the suit's augmented strength propel you forward faster than your legs could manage alone.

The first hurdle- a stack of foam blocks- approached. You tensed instinctively, bracing for impact, but the suit's hydraulics kicked in at the last second, launching you cleanly over with a whir that vibrated through your bones.

"Better," Professor Ann called from the sidelines. "Now stop thinking like a human."

wow, real helpful, Ann.

You barely had time to process that utterly unhelpful advice before the next obstacle, a swinging pendulum rigged with pool noodles, came at you sideways.

The suit's reflexes were faster than yours, it twisted your torso out of the way before could.

And then-

A sharp, staticky burst of feedback crackled through the neural interface.

Your vision whited out for half a second, the HUD flickering wildly as the suit's systems stuttered.

You stumbled mid stride, the suit's left knee actuator locking up at the worst possible moment - right as you were supposed to vault over a platform.

Instead of a graceful arc, you faceplanted directly into a crash mat, the suit's weight pinning you like an overturned turtle.

"Ow," you wheezed.

A flurry of panicked grad students descended, poking at the suit's access panels while muttering about "feedback loops" and "neural load thresholds." Professor Ann sighed, rubbing her temples.

"We'll recalibrate," she announced, "Take five."

You lay there for a solid thirty seconds before mustering the energy to roll onto your back, staring up at the lab's lights. The suit's chest plate dug uncomfortably into your ribs, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your leggings, a minor miracle you could reach it with the suit's gauntlets in the way. You fished it out.

A text from Jisung

Jisung: u alive? heard u joined a mecha fight club

You snorted, typing one handed

you: more like a mecha abuse club

Jisung: want me to stage a rescue? chan says we have duct tape

you: rempting. But I think Prof Ann would hunt you down.

Jisung: worth it.

You stared at the message, something warm curling in your chest. another text popped up

Jisung: seriously tho. u look dead in that insta story

You blinked. You hadn't posted anything—

then you get a notification that you were tagged in a story,

You clicked it.

There, in glorious 240p, was a video of you mid faceplant, captioned 'MY FRIEND IS A WARRIOR' with heart eye emojis.

It had been filmed from the lab's observation window, where Jisung, Changbin, and Chan were currently pressed against the glass like overgrown children at a zoo exhibit.

all three of them waved. you barely raised a gauntlet to wave back when professor Ann cleared her throat pointedly behind you. "Break's over."

You sighed, letting the grad students haul you upright as another round of calibrations began.

~

The university festival arrived soon enough. The robotics department had transformed their section of the quad into something resembling a tech expo - neon lit banners flapping over display tables crammed with prototypes, while the exosuit sat center stage.

You stood off to the side, tugging at the suit’s armored collar where it pinched your neck. “Remind me why I agreed to this again?”

Professor Ann didn’t look up from her tablet. “Because you enjoy having a GPA above 4.0.”

Nearby, Changbin materialized with a cotton candy stick the size of a small child. “So,” he said, mouth full of pink sugar, “you gonna, like, punch through a wall or something?”

You rolled your shoulders, or tried to, given the suit’s restrictive plating. "More like gently lift a cinderblock while Professor Ann narrates like it’s a nature documentary."

Changbin nodded. "ohhh, so educational trauma." He tore off a chunk of cotton candy and offered it to you. "Here. Sugar helps with existential dread."

You leaned forward to take it, nearly toppling sideways when the suit’s weight shifted unexpectedly. Changbin steadied you with a snort.

you glanced around, "Where are the other two, anyway?"

Changbin shrugged, mouth already full of another cotton candy bite. "Chan is nearby, dunno where Jisung is tho," He squinted at you. "Why? Miss him already?"

You swatted at him, nearly knocking over a display of mini robot arms. "Shut up. I just figured he'd want front row seats to watch me faceplant in a million dollar death suit."

Before Changbin could retort, Professor Ann clapped her hands. "Showtime! Places, people!"

The stage lights flared to life, nearly blinding you as a crowd of students and faculty gathered around the robotics exhibit.

You swallowed hard, the suit's neural interface tingling at the base of your skull, and stepped into position.

The demo started smoothly enough. You lifted the weighted cinderblocks (Professor Kim’s narration did sound like a nature documentary), executed a series of precision jumps that would’ve shattered your knees without the suit’s assistance, and even managed not to decapitate any bystanders with the suit’s articulated arm extensions. The crowd ooh'ed and aah'ed on cue.

Then came the "surprise" obstacle course segment — because Professor Ann had a thing for theatrics.

You gritted your teeth as the suit’s HUD flashed a new sequence 'evasive maneuvers initiated'.

The first hurdle was easy. The second, a sudden spray of water jets from the stage’s hidden nozzles, nearly sent you skidding into a group of horrified freshmen.

You recovered just in time to hear yunjin yell "STICK THE LANDING!" from the front row, cotton candy clutched in both her hands, closely resembling a cheerleader's pom poms.

And then-

A sharp, staticky burst of feedback crackled through the neural interface.

Your vision whited out for half a second, the HUD flickering wildly as the suit’s systems stuttered.

something was gonna go wrong.

You stumbled mid stride, the left knee actuator locking up just as you were supposed to vault over the final platform. you careened sideways, straight toward the exhibit’s main power grid.

Time slowed.

The crowd’s murmurs faded into white noise as your outstretched hand grazed the power console.

a high voltage power surge triggered a thermal runaway in the main power grid behind the stage. A fire was about to errupt.

Thick, black smoke erupted from the stage’s machinery, fire instantly filling the upper half of the pavilion. Screams erupted as the toxic cloud billowed outward.

"EVACUATE!" Professor Ann bellowed, already herding students back. "fire suppression system engaged!"

The automated sprinklers hissed to life, just as the security shutters began slamming down with a groan, cutting off exits.

You barely registered Changbin being yanked to safety by Chan before the nearest shutter sealed with a final clang, trapping you inside the smoke filled platform.

Alone.

Coughing, you fumbled for the suit’s emergency release, only for the neural interface to shriek another burst of feedback, locking the mechanisms.

The smoke burned your lungs with every ragged breath. Staggering backward, you collided with the half collapsed display behind you-

-just as the ceiling groaned ominously.

You looked up in time to see the steel framework buckling, the entire lighting rig teetering precariously.

"Well," you wheezed, blinking up at the collapsing ceiling through the smoke, "if I'm going to die, at least it's in a multimillion-dollar robo-coffin."

The suit's HUD flickered in agreement, or maybe it was just short circuiting. Either way, not ideal.

The ceiling groaned louder, steel beams creaking under the weight of compromised supports. You squeezed your eyes shut-

-and then something yanked you sideways with enough force to make your teeth clack together.

"Ow," you mumbled against a fabric covered chest as momentum sent you both skidding across the stage floor.

The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, but the arms around you were firm. When you pried your eyes open, the first thing you saw was a familiar red and blue suit sleeve.

Spiderman.

The idiot was holding you so tightly you could feel his heart hammering through the suit’s fabric. Smoke curled around his masked face as he quickly assessed the collapsing pavilion, one arm still locked around your waist.

he launched you both upward just as the ceiling fully gave way. The suit’s weight made the motion clumsier than his usual swings, and you barely had time to register the stomach dropping lurch before his web caught a still intact beam, yanking you sideways out of the debris path.

“Hold on—”

You didn’t get a chance to protest before he was maneuvering you both toward the nearest shutter, where the metal had buckled just enough to reveal a sliver of daylight.

The smoke was thicker here, clawing at your throat as Spiderman braced against the frame, muscles straining as he forced the gap wider with a grunt.

“Go, go, go—”

You barely scrambled free before the framework buckled behind you with a deafening crash. A strangled yelp cut through the noise - cut off too soon. Whirling around, you saw the shutter had snapped shut like a trap, pinning Spiderman’s torso beneath twisted steel. His fingers clawed at the gap, but the mechanism held fast.

"Hey- hey!" You dropped to your knees, grappling with the metal. It didn’t budge. Smoke curled from the seams, stinging your eyes as you yanked harder. "Stop playing dead and help me, you idiot!"

A weak cough answered you. Spiderman’s head lolled against the shutter, mask fogging unevenly with each labored breath.

When you finally wrenched the metal aside far enough to pull him free, his suit tore on jagged edges, revealing a gash along his ribs that oozed crimson down his side.

The exosuit's neural interface screamed warnings at you 'SYSTEM FAILURE, LOCK ENGAGED' but you slammed your forearm against the emergency release with enough force to break. Hydraulics hissed as the plating finally disengaged, clattering to the ground in pieces that probably cost more than your tuition.

You stumbled free just in time to see Spiderman's fingers slip from the shutter's edge.

"Don't you dare pass out on me," you snapped, dropping to your knees beside him. His breathing was ragged, mask clinging to his face where sweat and blood had glued it unevenly. Up close, the tear in his suit was worse - jagged metal had ripped through the fabric, exposing a deep gash that painted his side in alarming red streaks. Your fingers hovered uselessly before finding purchase on his shoulder. "Hey. Eyes open, c'mon"

Spiderman groaned, head lolling sideways. His gloved fingers twitched toward the wound before flopping back down. "'M'fine," he slurred, voice thick with pain. "Just... nap time."

A distant wail of sirens cut through the smoke. Fire department. EMTs. People who would absolutely not ignore a bleeding Spiderman sprawled in the wreckage.You grabbed his wrist and yanked. "Up. Now."

"Ow shit-" He scrambled upright with your help, one hand clamped over his ribs. The motion dislodged his mask slightly, revealing a sliver of bruised jawline you'd seen a hundred times. Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t have time to process it, not with sirens wailing closer, so you hooked his arm over your shoulders and half dragged, half carried him away from the wreckage.

The abandoned greenhouse behind the biology building was your only option - it was nearby, its broken windows and overgrown vines made it the perfect place to hide from the commotion outside.

You kicked the door open with your foot, nearly tripping over a pile of discarded plant trays as you hauled him inside.

Your knees gave out the second the door slammed shut behind you, sending both of you crashing onto the cracked tile floor.

Spiderman slumped against the glass wall with a pained hiss, his face bruised and cut beneath the half displaced mask.

You didn’t think. You grabbed the edge of his mask and yanked it off.

Han Jisung blinked up at you, dazed and bleeding and unmistakably himself.

his breath was laboured, so was yours, both of you struggling to catch your breaths and comprehend what just unfolded in the past 10 minutes.

"I wanted to tell you," he whispered, voice cracking. His fingers twitched toward yours but stopped short, "I swear I did."

The sheer absurdity of it, the late night library rescue, the perfect grades despite the exhaustion, jisung being the city’s savior - it hit you all at once.

Tears pricked your eyes, but a breathless, hysterical laugh escaped your throat. You were crying and laughing simultaneously, completely overwhelmed.

Jisung flinched. "Hey, hey, don’t cry, please don’t cry," he panicked, wincing as he tried to reach out. "Are you hurt? Did something hit you?"

You wiped your face with the back of your hand, "No, you absolute moron, I'm not hurt - you're the one bleeding all over the place!"

He blinked, then glanced down at his side like he’d forgotten about the gaping wound. "Oh. Right." His fingers prodded the edges before he winced and pulled them away. "Huh. That’s... more red than usual."

You grabbed the hem of your shirt , "Future of Robotics" in bold text printed in the center, professor Ann's stupid merch - you ripped a strip clean off with a tear.

Jisung’s eyes widened as you shoved the fabric against his side, pressing hard enough to make him yelp. "Ow-fuck- are you trying to finish the job?"

"Shut up," you muttered, fingers trembling as you knotted the makeshift bandage tight around his ribs.

The white fabric bloomed red almost instantly, but you tightened it further, ignoring his hissed curses. "You’re literally bleeding out, and your first instinct is to make a joke? Typical."

Jisung’s breath hitched when your fingers brushed a particularly nasty bruise. "Not a joke," he managed, voice strained. "Just - really bad at serious moments." His attempt at a grin faltered when you glared up at him, tear tracks still fresh on your cheeks. The humor drained from his face. "...You’re really mad, huh?"

"Mad?" Your laugh came out jagged. "I’m furious. You’ve been- what, swinging around campus this whole time? Letting me think Spiderman was some-some urban legend while you sat next to me?" Your voice cracked. "You let me argue with you about yourself."

Jisung winced. "Okay, when you say it like that-"

"You saved me," you interrupted, hands still fisted in the bloody fabric of his suit. "Twice. And then- what, just went back to making our project like nothing happened?"

His fingers twitched toward yours but stopped short. "I wanted to tell you," he admitted quietly. "Every damn day. But-" He exhaled sharply, wincing as the movement tugged his injury. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, by the way, I’m the guy you keep calling a fake on Twitter?'"

"You could’ve trusted me," you shot back.

"I do," he whispered. "More than anyone." His palm settled over yours where it pressed against his wound, "That’s why it hurt so much not to tell you."

The confession hung between you. Outside, sirens wailed, and the distant shouts of first responders filtered through the greenhouse glass.

Your breath stuttered. "You’re an idiot,"

Jisung’s laugh was breathless, pained. "Yeah," he agreed. His free hand lifted, hovering near your cheek. "I'm sorry."

You didn’t let him hesitate. Grabbing his wrist, you pressed his palm to your face. "I won't forgive you that easily," you muttered.

"I know, I'll work for it" he said, thumb wiping a tear away.

and then you leaned down and kissed him.

It was messy, your hands were bloody, his hands were bloody, but his gasp against your mouth was worth every second of confusion. His fingers cupped your face, pulling you closer like he’d wanted to do this for years. Maybe he had.

You broke away first, gasping for air, only for Jisung’s lips to chase yours clumsily, His fingers trying to pull you closer, tugging you back with a whimper that was equal parts desperation and pain.

"Wait-" he mumbled against your mouth, "I think I blacked out for a second- was that real or am I hallucinating from blood loss?"

You laughed, your forehead resting against his as his fingers trembled against your cheek. "It was real," you murmured, breath warm against his split lip. "You're not hallucinating."

Jisung blinked up at you, his lips twitched into a wobbly smile. "Hmm. I dunno." His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, "Might need another one, just to make sure."

you leaned in again, kissing him slower this time, letting him memorize the shape of your mouth on his.

His breath hitched when you nipped at his lower lip, and you felt the exact moment his brain short circuited, his grip on your waist slackened, then tightened again. When you pulled back, his dazed expression was priceless.

"...Okay," he breathed, licking his split lip absently. "Definitely real." His gaze dropped to your mouth again, lingering. "Also, wow, we should've done this sooner"

~

30 minutes after dragging Jisung to the greenhouse, Chan and Changbin found you both — Chan’s expression tight with worry, Changbin unusually silent as he took in the bloodied state of his roommate.

They didn’t ask questions. Chan simply slung Jisung’s arm over his shoulders while Changbin handed you his hoodie to cover the torn edges of your clothes. You watched them disappear before you turned toward the chaos of the main campus.

The quad was still swarming with paramedics and evacuated students when you pushed through the crowd. Yunjin spotted you first, her face crumpling in relief as she barreled you into a hug.

You let her fuss, nodding through her rapid - fire questions about smoke inhalation and whether you’d seen the structural collapse, but you offered no answers about where you’d been or who’d pulled you out.

The university issued a formal apology within hours, citing a critical system failure in the exosuit’s neural dampeners, and suspended all related projects indefinitely.

By evening, campus security had roped off the pavilion with yellow tape, and administrators granted you a week’s leave to recover, not that you needed it. Your bruises were superficial compared to the ones hidden beneath Jisung’s hastily bandaged ribs.

Across campus, Chan and Changbin had hauled a barely conscious Jisung back to their apartment through the service elevators, his suit stuffed into Changbin’s bag. They fussed over him like parents, then stitched him up with a first aid kit and a YouTube tutorial.

True to his enhanced biology, Jisung’s wounds closed faster than humanly possible- the deep gash along his ribs scarred over within three days, though the bruising lingered in ugly shades of yellow green.

The university excused his absence with a vague note about "lab accident trauma," which wasn’t entirely a lie.

He spent the first 48 hours sleeping off the worst of the pain, only waking when Changbin force fed him or when Chan changed his bandages.

You told Yunjin everything eventually.

Not the Spider-Man part - that was his secret to share, not yours - but the Jisung part. but you didn’t have to say much.

She wasn’t surprised.

“Oh my god,” Yunjin groaned, flopping backward onto your bed like you’d just confessed to something painfully obvious. “Finally. Do you know how exhausting it’s been watching you two?” she said, “You’ve been making heart eyes at each other since sophomore year.”

and three weeks later, the university had moved on from the festival disaster like any other. The wrecked pavilion was already half demolished, the exosuit project quietly scrubbed from the department website, and Professor Ann transferred to a research branch in Busan under suspiciously sudden circumstances.

the semester resumed, lectures, exams, studying, but for you, everything had shifted.

~

The tap against your window was barely audible- just three quick raps of knuckles against glass, You shoved your chair back with a smile and crossed the room in three strides. The window slid open with a quiet creak, letting in a gust of cool night air.

Spiderman was perched upside down on the fire escape, "Miss me?" he asked, swinging forward until his face was inches from yours.

You hummed, reaching forward to tug his mask down just enough to reveal his mouth, then leaned in and kissed him. His fingers scrambled against your windowsill for purchase, his gloves squeaking against the metal as you grabbed his face and deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, he was breathless, still dangling by his knees, "You were gone for two hours," you deadpanned, but your hands reached for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit to tug him inside. He tumbled into your room.

"Two hours and seventeen minutes," he corrected, pulling flowers from behind his back with a flourish. "Which is exactly how long it took to track these down."

The bouquet was… well, it was something. A color cluster of wildflowers, dandelions, and what looked suspiciously like a handful of weeds yanked from a sidewalk crack, all tied together with a web string.

You stared at it. "You robbed a community garden?"

"Rude. I foraged." He shoved the flowers toward you insistently. "Also, I nearly got arrested. Show some appreciation."

You took the bouquet, your nose wrinkling as a ladybug crawled lazily across one of the petals. "They’re… vibrant."

"See? Vibrant." Jisung beamed, rocking onto his toes. "I knew you’d love them."

You snorted, turning to place the bouquet on your desk — gently, because despite the weeds and the ladybug, he’d tried, only to yelp when Jisung’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist from behind. His chin dropped onto your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he nuzzled into the space just below your ear.

"Admit it," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "You adore them."

You elbowed him lightly, but didn’t pull away. "I adore you" you muttered, then immediately regretted it when his grip tightened and you felt his grin against your skin.

"Knew that, too," he said smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your throat that made your breath hitch. His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs through your thin shirt.

"Missed you," he added, quieter this time, lips moving against your throat, tracing a path up to your jawline that sent shivers down your spine.

You twisted in his arms, turning to face him just as his mouth found yours, impatient, he'd been waiting all night for this. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a low, satisfied hum.

You giggled as Jisung’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "My roommate’s in the other room," you whispered, leaning into him despite yourself. "She’s sleeping."

Jisung paused, his breath hot against your skin. "Well," he murmured, dragging his mouth lower, "you’ve gotta be quiet then." His hands slid under your shirt, gloved fingers skimming your waist before hands tightened, lifting you effortlessly.

You barely had time to register the movement before your back hit the mattress, his body hovering over yours, "Quiet," he whispered, pressing a finger to your lips, though his own grin made it clear he had no intention of making that easy for you.

His mouth found yours again, swallowing your breathless laugh as his gloved hands slid beneath your shirt, then his mouth drifted lower, biting your lip to stifle a whimper when his teeth grazed your collarbone, lower, his tongue flicked over the peak of your breast through the fabric, and you dug your fingers into his hair, tugging impatiently.

"Jisung" you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Patience," he murmured against your skin, tho the way his hands trembled as they pushed your shirt up betrayed his own impatience. His lips followed the path of his fingers, kissing down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your shorts. He hooked his thumbs into them, glancing up at you with a look so openly hungry it made your pulse stutter.

"You’re sure?" he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes. Please."

The second the word left your lips, Jisung yanked your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, tossing them somewhere over his shoulder without breaking eye contact, as he settled between your thighs. "You’re so pretty like this," he breathed, his thumbs brushing the inside of your knees, pushing them apart gently. "All worked up just ’cause of me."

Your face burned, but before you could retort, his mouth was on you, his tongue dragging a path that made your back arch off the bed.

You barely stifled a gasp, biting down on your lip as his hands tightened around your thighs, holding you open.

"Fuck," Jisung muttered against you, his voice wrecked, his breath uneven like he was the one unraveling. "Taste so good—"

The words dissolved into a groan when your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging hard enough to make his hips jerk. His answering laugh was breathless, uneven, his lips curving against you as he doubled down, tongue flicking over you in a way that made your legs shake.

his mouth was *relentless, teasing and coaxing until your grip on his hair turned desperate, his mouth never faltering as he swallowed every sound you tried - and failed - to stifle.

"You- ah -I'm gonna-" The warning barely escaped your lips before Jisung's fingers tightened around your thighs, pinning you down as his tongue swirled faster. Your back arched off the bed, a strangled gasp tearing free as you came, his name half choked in your throat.

he didn't let up for a second, dragging out every shuddering pulse until your legs twitched violently against his shoulders, your fingers yanking his head back.

he crawled up your body, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove, still wearing the damn suit, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and so filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

you felt him rolling his hips against yours. The fabric of his suit was frustratingly thick, but you could still feel the heat of him pressing against your thigh, "Still with me?" he murmured, nipping at your jaw when you didn’t answer fast enough.

You grabbed his face, pulling him down into another kiss, his breath hitching when you rolled your hips up against him, the friction drawing a ragged groan from his throat.

“Still with you,” you muttered against his lips, your fingers already working at the hidden zipper of his suit. “But this stupid thing needs to go.”

Jisung let you zip the suit down to his waist. The second his bare skin met yours, he shuddered, his hands gripping your waist, “You’re killing me,” he mumbled against your neck.

You reached between you, wrapping your hand around him, and the noise he made sent a thrill straight to your core. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts as you stroked him slowly, relishing the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Jisung,” you whispered, “you’re so loud.”

Jisung's head snapped up, his face flushed "I'm" he started, but his protest dissolved into a gasp when your thumb swiped over the head of his cock. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, "oh- fuck," he hissed, his voice cracking.

Jisung’s breath hitched when you tightened your grip, his hips stuttering against your hand. His eyes flickered shut for a fraction of a second before snapping open again, "You-" he started, voice strangled, but you just smirked, slowing your strokes.

"Oh, sorry," you whispered, feigning innocence. "Am I distracting you, Spiderman?"

That did it. Jisung’s fingers clamped around your wrist, wrenching your hands away and pinning them above your head with one hand.

Before you could react, his other hand flicked out - thwip - and suddenly your wrists were bound together by a thin strand of webbing, stuck fast to the headboard. You yanked instinctively, but the silk held firm.

"Cheater," you hissed, glaring up at him through your lashes.

"You started it," he murmured, dragging his free hand down your torso, fingertips skating where you wanted him most. His thumb hooked into the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until the fabric bunched under your bound arms. "Now you get to lie there and take it."

His fingers suddenly dipped into you, curling, and you arched off the bed with a strangled moan. "Told you to be quiet," he murmured, "want me to web your mouth too?".

His fingers withdrew before you could answer back, leaving you clenching around nothing, and you barely had time to whimper before he was lining himself up, the head of his cock dragging through your slick with a filthy, wet sound.

His hips jerked forward once, just a teasing press, enough to make your breath hitch - before he stilled, "Fuck," he muttered, his voice ragged. "Gimme a second - fuck -"

You rolled your hips impatiently, earning a choked groan from him as his grip on your waist tightened. "Jisung," you hissed, nails scraping uselessly against the webbing binding your wrists. "If you don’t move-"

He cut you off with a sharp thrust, burying himself to the hilt in one motion. The noise he made was downright embarrassing, his hips stuttering as he adjusted to the feeling. "God," he panted, his breath hot against your skin. "You feel so, fuck-"

His words dissolved into a groan as he pulled out slowly, only to slam back in with enough force to jolt the bedframe against the wall. You bit down on your lip hard, stifling a cry as he set a punishing pace, his hips snapping forward with a rhythm that left you seeing stars.

The webbing held firm, keeping you pinned beneath him as he fucked you with single minded intensity, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your collarbone.

one sharp thrust forced a moan from your lips before you could bite it back - loud, embarrassingly loud - and Jisung’s hand slapped over your mouth instantly, his fingers pressing hard enough to muffle the sound.

"Quiet," he whispered, but his hips didn’t slow - if anything, the pace turned meaner, each snap of his hips deliberate and punishing. "Roommate’s sleeping, remember?"

You whimpered against his palm, your back arching off the bed as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. his own control fraying at the edges as he fucked you into the mattress.

"Fuck - fuck - you feel so good," he muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. His fingers flexed against your mouth, his other hand gripping your hip hard.

Jisung’s hand slid from your mouth to your throat, his fingers pressing just enough to take your breath away, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw as he leaned down, “Close?” he murmured, his hips never slowing their relentless pace.

You nodded frantically, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as his cock dragged against that spot inside you with every thrust. The webbing around your wrists tugged taut with every movement, keeping you pinned beneath him, utterly at his mercy.

“Yeah?” he breathed, his hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering for just a second. “Gonna cum for me?” His free hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles that made your back arch off the bed.

You couldn’t answer - couldn’t think - just clenched around him with a muffled cry, your thighs shaking as pleasure crashed over you in waves. Jisung swore under his breath, his fingers tightening around your throat just slightly as he fucked you through it, his hips losing their rhythm entirely as he chased his own release.

"Gonna - fuck - gonna cum too," Jisung gasped, his rhythm faltered completely then, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate .

His forehead dropped to your shoulder with a ragged whimper, his hips jerked forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt. You felt him pulse inside you, his whole body trembling with the force of his release.

Jisung slumped against you, his breath still ragged against your collarbone, his fingers flexing weakly against your throat before sliding up to cradle your jaw instead. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, his touch gentle compared to the way he absolutely rocked your shit just now.

"You okay?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.

You let out a shaky breath, your wrists tugging instinctively against the webbing still binding them. "Pretty sure you just short circuited my brain there," you admitted, your voice equally wrecked.

Jisung let out a tired laugh, his nose scrunched up adorably - adorably, god, when had you started thinking of him like that? - as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "Mission accomplished,"

Your wrists twisted slightly against the sticky webbing, the thin silk strands flexing but refusing to give. "Jisung," you muttered, wincing at the dull ache in your arms from being pinned above your head for so long. "This hurts. set me free."

His smile faltered immediately. A flicker of panic darted across his face as he sat up, suddenly nervous. "Uh." He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. "Yeah, about that."

You narrowed your eyes. "About that?"

"The - uh - the webbing," he admitted, wincing preemptively like he expected you to throw something at him. "It... doesn’t dissolve for, like... an hour?"

Your jaw dropped. "An hour?"

Jisung scrambled upright, his hands flying up in mock surrender "Okay, okay! Before you kill me-" he started, then paused, reconsidering. "When you kill me- I swear I have a solution. Kind of. Maybe."

You yanked at the webbing again, the strands stretching slightly but refusing to budge. "What kind of solution?" you hissed through gritted teeth.

He bit his lip, "So... I've been working on this solvent? For emergencies? Like, if I accidentally web someone who isn't a criminal, or-"

"Jisung."

“Okay, so the solvent is back at my dorm. Which, uh. Isn’t here.”

You stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“I wish,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, I can swing back real quick-”

“You are not leaving me like this,” you hissed, twisting against the webbing for emphasis. The strands held firm, sticking stubbornly to your wrists and the headboard. “What if my roommate wakes up?”

Jisung blanched. “Oh. Right.” He glanced at the door, then back at you, his expression shifting from panic to something close to amusement. “So... we wait?”

“We wait?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jisung, I am naked and stuck to my own bed.”

“.....skill issue?”

you end up waiting the entire hour. with jisung serving as a very poor distraction to the the ache blooming in your arms and shoulders.

~

The university’s digital bulletin board flickered to life at exactly 9 am, updating the semester’s final rankings. You stood frozen in front of the screen, backpack dangling precariously off one shoulder.

your eyes skimmed over the results, your name in first place with a 100% next to it, followed by Jisung with a 98%.

A beat of silence. Then-

“No way,” you blurted, so loud it echoed off the empty hallway walls.

Behind you, a familiar weight slumped against your back, Jisung’s chin hooking over your shoulder as he squinted at the screen. “Huh,” he said, voice dripping with exaggerated contemplation. “That’s weird.”

You whirled around, “Huh? That’s all you have to say?”

Jisung shrugged, his lips twitching into that infuriatingly smug grin you’d spent years wanting to wipe off his face, though now, you had far more effective methods than stomping on his foot.

“I mean, congrats,” he said, leaning in until his nose brushed yours. “Enjoy your victory lap, genius. It’s not gonna last.”

You rolled your eyes, “Keep telling yourself that, Spiderboy.”

“Spiderman,” he corrected, flicking your forehead before dancing out of reach. “And don’t think this means you get to slack off. I’m watching you.” He mimed narrowing his eyes, pointing two fingers at his own eyes, then at you.

You lunged for him, but Jisung dodged effortlessly, freakishly fast - your wrist with a laugh and tugging you flush against his chest. His fingers slid between yours, “Seriously,” he murmured, voice softer now, “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, ducking your head to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “Turns out I can focus when a certain idiot isn’t yapping in my ear.”

“Wow. Wow.” he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d shot him. “After everything we’ve been through? The trauma? The bonding? You wound me.”

You snorted, shoving him away “Go lick your wounds in silence,” you said, turning on your heel toward the lecture hall. “I have a victory lap to take.”

a/n: I proofread this at the mall after my friend stood me up when I was ALREADY THERE, anyway, it's done! I had so much fun with spiderhan, hope u did too!!

98%.

The number glared up at you from the paper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stood up and stomped on his foot, hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he became your competition from then.

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

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

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

It worked better than he’d expected.

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

~

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

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

"Shit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung shouldn’t have been there.

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

He glanced over his shoulder. The hallway was empty.

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

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

"Cool," he muttered, stepping further inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who's there?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Changbin's name flashed across the screen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung flashed her a grin "Traffic was brutal."

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

"Exactly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he sneezed.

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

"Bless you," you muttered automatically.

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

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

weird

~

after lectures, you were supposed to be studying.

Keyword: supposed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yunjin's eyebrows shot up. "Wow."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. "What party?"

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

"You absolutely did not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...Never."

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

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

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

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

and you were gonna be so late tomorrow.

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The moment he slid them on, the world tilted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You didn’t have to," Chan groaned.

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

"You knocked over-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Technically I haven't tried that yet-"

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

Something was about to happen.

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

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

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

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

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

“You-” you started.

“I-” he interrupted at the same time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

He lunged.

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

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

Silence.

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

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

Chan was going to murder him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this rooted a bad, bad idea into jisungs head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Show off," Changbin muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He jumped.

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

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

That was when he heard a scream.

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

He moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BRO

DID YOU JUST GO VIRAL ON TWITTER

THERES VIDEO OF YOU DOING A BACKFLIP OVER A CAR

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

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

Spiderman??? In SEOUL????

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Changbin groaned audibly and slid down in his chair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

well...he literally did.

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey sweetheart, why you walking so fast?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You realized three things at once

one, Your knees were shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

One of the webbed up drunks whimpered.

You swallowed hard. "Lamppost's good."

Spiderman saluted. "Lamppost it is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. "A what?"

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

"No," you said immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Only a little!" he called back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you smiled. "I'll try."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chan blinked. "Whose-"

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

also, you snore.

- s

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snatched it back. "no one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ecstatic,"

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never commented. But you watched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

"We have a problem," Jisung announced .

"You are the problem." changbin said.

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

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

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

Chan’s eyes widened. "Oh no."

Jisung nodded frantically. "Oh yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The apartment was almost presentable by the time you knocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. "Sounds about right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung straightened, "Yes, ma'am."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm just gonna-" Jisung started.

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

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

"It's extremely creepy."

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

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

"Because you always try to escort her!"

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

"A coincidence," you deadpanned.

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

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

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

"That was one time-"

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

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

"Fine," you muttered, stomping ahead.

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

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

Oh the irony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You invited yourself," you corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You mean annoying," you corrected.

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

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

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

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

Your face heated instantly. "Both."

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

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

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

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

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

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

who is this guy?

~

NSFW:

As your husband, Bang Chan’s possessiveness and desire for you only grow stronger. He no longer holds back — you’re his wife now, and he wants to claim every inch of you every single night.

He’s still incredibly attentive in bed, but there’s a much more dominant and hungry side to him now. He loves taking his time undressing you, kissing every new piece of skin he reveals while whispering how beautiful his wife is.

Chan has a massive size kink and breeding kink when it comes to you. He loves watching your face as he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open with his thick cock. “Look at you taking your husband so well… so fucking tight for me even after all this time,” he’ll groan against your ear.

He’s obsessed with eye contact. He’ll fuck you in missionary with your legs over his shoulders, holding your hands above your head while he thrusts deep and slow, making sure you feel every inch. When he gets more desperate, he pounds into you harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he growls, “You’re mine… my wife… gonna fill you up until you’re dripping with me.”

His dirty talk is constant and loving but filthy. He loves calling you “my good little wife”, “babygirl”, and “Mrs. Bang” while he’s buried deep inside you. When he’s close, he gets even dirtier — “Gonna breed this pretty pussy… want to put a baby in my wife… you want that, don’t you? Want your husband to cum deep inside you?”

He’s amazing with his mouth. Chan can spend ages between your legs, licking and sucking your pussy like he’s starving for you. He uses his tongue expertly on your clit while two thick fingers curl inside you, moaning against your folds because he loves how you taste. He won’t stop until you’ve cum at least twice on his tongue.

He also loves when you suck him off. He’ll sit back against the headboard, one hand gently holding your hair while you take him down your throat. “Fuck… look at my wife sucking my cock so beautifully,” he groans, his voice getting rougher the deeper you go.

Bang Chan can go for multiple rounds. After he cums inside you the first time, he’ll stay buried deep, slowly grinding his hips to push his load further in while kissing you messily. Then he flips you over and fucks you again from behind, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks as he pounds into you.

He has a thing for marking you. Loves leaving hickeys on your neck, breasts, and inner thighs — places only he gets to see. After sex, he’ll gently trace the marks with his fingers while whispering how much he loves you.

The aftercare is immaculate. Even after the most intense rounds, he becomes the softest husband again. He’ll carry you to the bathroom, clean you up gently, bring you water, and then pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet nothings until you both fall asleep tangled together.

Lee Know

SFW:

Lee Know is the kind of husband who loves you quietly but deeply, in his own special way. He may not be the loudest with words, but his actions show how much he cherishes you every single day.

He’s incredibly attentive in small, meaningful ways. He remembers exactly how you like your tea or coffee, makes sure your favorite snacks are always stocked, and leaves Soonie, Doongie, and Dori with you when he has long schedules so you won’t feel lonely. Coming home to you and the cats is his favorite part of the day.

He’s surprisingly soft and clingy when it’s just the two of you. After a long day, he’ll crawl into your arms, bury his face in your neck, and let out a tired sigh while you play with his hair. He loves when you call him “jagiya” or “honey” — it makes his ears turn pink every time.

Lee Know is the husband who teases you constantly, but it’s always filled with love. He’ll make fun of the way you sneeze or how you dance around the kitchen, only to pull you close right after and kiss your forehead, whispering “You’re so cute, I can’t handle it.”

He’s very protective in a calm, steady way. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, he’ll step in quietly but firmly, placing himself between you and the person while giving them that signature cold stare. At home, he makes you feel completely safe and adored.

He loves quiet domestic moments with you — cooking together (even if he pretends to complain the whole time), watching dramas while tangled on the couch, or taking late-night walks with the cats. He’s the type to randomly buy you flowers or your favorite dessert just because he saw it and thought of you.

On tough days, he becomes your safe place. He’ll pull you onto his lap, wrap his arms around you, and stay like that for as long as you need, gently rubbing your back and pressing soft kisses to your temple. He doesn’t always know what to say, but he knows how to make you feel loved and calm.

He often calls you “my wife” with a gentle smile, like he still can’t believe he gets to say it. He loves planning small trips or cozy weekends just for the two of you, always making sure you feel like the most important person in his world.

NSFW:

Even as your husband, Lee Know remains incredibly soft and intimate with you in bed. He’s not the aggressive type — instead, he’s deeply sensual, patient, and focused on making you feel cherished and pleasured.

He loves taking his time with you. He’ll undress you slowly, kissing every inch of skin he reveals, murmuring sweet praises like “So beautiful… my pretty wife” against your body. His touches are gentle but confident, hands sliding over your curves with adoration.

Lee Know is obsessed with kissing you during sex. He wants his lips on yours, on your neck, on your chest — constant, deep, and loving kisses while he moves inside you. He enjoys slow, deep thrusts, rolling his hips carefully so you feel every inch of him, savoring the way you moan softly against his mouth.

He’s incredibly good at oral. He loves going down on you, spreading your legs gently and licking your pussy with slow, deliberate strokes. He takes his time exploring every fold with his tongue, sucking softly on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, curling just right. He moans quietly against you because he genuinely loves your taste and the way your thighs tremble around his head.

When you go down on him, he gets adorably shy at first, but quickly melts. He’ll thread his fingers through your hair gently, watching you with half-lidded eyes and letting out soft, breathy moans. “Feels so good… my wife is so perfect,” he whispers, his voice getting huskier the closer he gets.

He has a quiet but strong breeding kink. While he’s buried deep inside you, he’ll hold you close and whisper things like “Want to fill you up… want to make a family with you one day” in that low, sweet voice. When he cums, he likes to stay inside you for a long time, gently rocking his hips as if he doesn’t want any drop to escape.

Lee Know prefers positions where he can stay close to you — missionary so he can kiss you deeply, or you on top so he can hold your waist and look up at your face with pure adoration. Even when the pleasure builds and his thrusts get a little faster, he remains tender, never rough.

After sex, he’s the king of aftercare. He’ll clean you up carefully with a warm towel, pull you into his chest, and cuddle you for hours. He loves falling asleep skin to skin, one arm wrapped securely around you while his fingers draw lazy patterns on your back, whispering “I love you” until you drift off.

Changbin

SFW:

Changbin is the softest, most loving, and whipped husband you could ever ask for. He’s big, strong, and looks intimidating to others, but with you he turns into the biggest teddy bear in the world.

He’s incredibly affectionate and never shy about showing it. The moment he comes home, he drops everything to find you and pull you into one of his famous bone-crushing hugs, lifting you off the ground while burying his face in your neck and mumbling “I missed my wife so much today.”

He loves spoiling you. Whether it’s buying you flowers, your favorite snacks, or random cute things he saw that reminded him of you, he’s always thinking of ways to make you smile. He calls you “baby”, “princess”, “my love” and “jagiya” constantly, and his voice gets extra soft when he says “my wife.”

Domestic life with him is pure comfort. He loves cooking with you (even if he’s not the best at it), dancing around the kitchen while music plays, and carrying you around the house just because he can. He’s the husband who will do anything you ask — cleaning, laundry, carrying heavy things — and he does it with a proud smile because he loves taking care of you.

Changbin is extremely clingy and needy for your attention. At night he becomes your personal heater, always wanting to cuddle. He loves when you lay on his broad chest and when you play with his hair or trace his muscles with your fingers. He gets all shy and giggly when you compliment how strong and handsome he is.

He’s very emotionally open with you. If he had a hard day at practice, he’ll come to you immediately, lay his head on your lap, and let you baby him. He feels safest when he’s being spoiled by his wife. anniversaries and special dates are always celebrated big — he plans romantic dinners or surprise getaways just to show how much he treasures you.

He’s protective but in the sweetest way. He’ll puff up his chest if anyone looks at you too long, but the second you hold his hand or call his name softly, he melts completely. You’re his biggest pride — he loves introducing you as “my beautiful wife” with the brightest smile.

NSFW:

Even though Changbin is big and muscular, in the bedroom he’s surprisingly submissive and absolutely loves when you take full control. Being “dominated” by his wife turns him on more than anything else in the world.

He gets incredibly needy and desperate the moment you start commanding him. Just hearing you say “Be good for me, Binnie” or “Lay down, baby” makes him instantly hard. He loves being told what to do — where to touch you, how fast to move, when he’s allowed to cum.

His favorite thing is when you ride him. He’ll lay on his back, gripping the sheets tightly while you sink down on his thick cock, moaning loudly as you take control of the pace. He looks up at you with heart eyes, whimpering “Please… use me however you want, princess.”

Changbin has a massive praise kink. He melts when you tell him how good he feels inside you, how strong and pretty he looks when he’s falling apart for you. Words like “Good boy”, “Such a perfect husband for me”, and “You’re doing so well, baby” make him moan and twitch inside you.

He’s very vocal and whiny in bed. Expect lots of breathy moans, whimpers, and desperate “Please… I need you…” when you tease him or edge him. He loves being overstimulated — even after he cums, if you keep riding him he’ll cry out from sensitivity but beg you not to stop.

Other kinks he has(I'm sure of that, okay? )

- He loves when you mark him up. Hickeys on his neck, chest, and thighs make him feel claimed and owned by you.

- Light choking (your small hand around his thick neck) drives him crazy.

- He has a breeding kink too, but in a more submissive way — he loves when you tell him you’re going to “milk him dry” and make him fill you up.

- He’s obsessed with giving you oral. When you sit on his face he becomes euphoric, licking and sucking your pussy eagerly while moaning loudly against you, happy to stay there until you cum multiple times.

Even when he’s inside you, he prefers when you’re in control. He’ll thrust up into you only when you allow it, always asking “Can I move, baby? Please let me fuck you…” His hands will grip your hips tightly but he won’t take over unless you tell him to.

After sex he becomes even softer. He loves when you take care of him too — cleaning him up, cuddling him, and praising him while he rests his head on your chest. He’ll whisper “I love you so much… thank you for taking care of me” with the sweetest, most satisfied smile.

Hyunjin

SFW:

Hyunjin is, without a doubt, the most romantic and affectionate husband in the world. He loves you so deeply and openly that sometimes it feels like you’re living inside a romance movie.

He’s incredibly soft and gentle with you. Every morning he wakes you up with slow kisses all over your face, whispering “Good morning, my beautiful wife” in that smooth voice. He treats you like you’re the most precious thing in his life — because to him, you really are.

He’s a master at making you feel loved. He writes you little poems, draws portraits of you when you’re not looking, and surprises you with flowers “just because”. Date nights with him are always special — whether it’s a fancy dinner, dancing under the stars, or staying home where he sets up a pillow fort and slow dances with you in the living room.

Hyunjin is extremely clingy and touchy. He always needs to be close to you — holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or pulling you onto his lap while he’s painting or watching movies. He loves when you play with his long hair and will literally purr if you scratch his scalp.

He’s the type of husband who gets emotional easily. Sometimes he looks at you and gets teary-eyed because he can’t believe he gets to call you his wife. He’s not afraid to tell you “I’m so in love with you” multiple times a day.

He venerates you in the sweetest ways. He calls you “my queen”, “my love”, “angel”, and “my beautiful wife” with so much adoration in his voice. He loves spoiling you — buying you beautiful clothes, jewelry, or anything that makes you feel like royalty. He’s always taking photos of you because he says he needs to capture your beauty forever.

Even on busy days, he makes time for you. He’ll send you selfies from the practice room or voice notes telling you how much he misses his wife. When he comes home, the first thing he does is find you and hug you for a long time, breathing you in like you’re his home.

NSFW:

As your husband, Hyunjin’s love for you becomes even more intense and worshipful in the bedroom. He absolutely adores venerating your body and making you feel like a goddess.

He’s incredibly sensual and teasing. He loves to provoke you until you’re shaking with need. He’ll spend ages kissing down your body, lightly biting your inner thighs, licking and sucking marks into your skin while whispering filthy but romantic things like “Look at how wet you already are for me… my perfect wife.”

Hyunjin is completely obsessed with making you squirt. The first time he made you do it, he became addicted. Now, every time you have sex, he makes it his mission to make you squirt for him. He’ll finger you with those long, elegant fingers, curling them perfectly against your g-spot while sucking hard on your clit, refusing to stop even when your legs start shaking. When you finally squirt all over his hand and face, his eyes light up with pure pride and lust as he moans “That’s it, baby… give it to me. Squirt for your husband again.”

He loves going down on you for a long time. He eats you out like he’s worshiping you — slow, deep licks mixed with intense sucking on your clit. He moans against your pussy because he genuinely loves your taste, and he gets even more turned on when you pull his hair and ride his face.

When you ride him, he becomes a complete mess. He lays back, hands gripping your hips, looking up at you with hazy, lovesick eyes while you take control. He loves when you use him for your pleasure, whispering “Use me, my love… ride your husband however you want.”

He’s very vocal and romantic even during sex. He constantly praises you — “You’re so beautiful when you fall apart for me”, “I love how you feel around me”, “You’re my everything”. He can go from sweet to provocatively dirty in seconds: “Come on, angel… let me feel you soak me again. I know my wife can give me more.”

Hyunjin especially loves positions where he can see your face and watch every expression you make. He’ll fuck you slow and deep in missionary, kissing you passionately while grinding against you, then suddenly speed up when he feels you getting close, determined to make you squirt all over his cock.

He has a strong worship kink. He loves kissing and licking every part of your body — your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, and especially your pussy after you cum. He’ll clean you up with his tongue while telling you how perfect you are.

After sex, he becomes even softer. He’ll pull you into his arms, kiss every inch of your face, and hold you close while whispering sweet nothings. He loves falling asleep with your bodies pressed together, his long fingers gently stroking your back as he tells you how much he loves being your husband.

Felix

SFW:

Felix is the type of husband that makes people around you jealous because he’s genuinely the sweetest, softest, and most caring man in the world. Everyone who sees the way he treats you says the same thing: “My God, he’s the most affectionate and loving husband I’ve ever seen.”

He’s incredibly gentle and warm with you. Every single day he makes sure you feel completely loved. He wakes you up with the softest kisses, his deep voice whispering “Good morning, my love” or “Wake up, beautiful wife” while stroking your hair. He loves hugging you from behind while you’re doing anything — cooking, brushing your teeth, or working — and resting his chin on your shoulder, breathing you in like you’re his favorite scent in the world.

Felix is extremely thoughtful. He remembers every little thing about you: your favorite flowers, the exact way you like your coffee, the songs that make you emotional, and even the small details like how you scrunch your nose when you’re concentrating. He surprises you constantly — leaving love notes inside your bag, buying you skincare products because he noticed your skin was dry, or planning cozy movie nights with all your favorite snacks and blankets.

He’s the biggest cuddler. At home he’s always touching you in some way. He loves when you sit on his lap while he plays games or when you lay on his chest while watching dramas. His favorite moment of the day is when he can finally come home, pull you into his arms, and stay like that for hours, talking about everything and nothing while his deep voice vibrates against your ear.

He calls you the cutest nicknames in the softest tone: “sunshine”, “angel”, “my pretty wife”, “babygirl”, and “love of my life”. When he says “my wife”, his eyes sparkle with pure pride and adoration. He’s not afraid to show how whipped he is for you — he posts pictures of you two with the sweetest captions and loves telling everyone how lucky he is to be married to you.

Felix is incredibly patient and understanding. On days when you’re tired or overwhelmed, he becomes your safe haven. He’ll run you a warm bath with your favorite scents, wash your hair with the gentlest touch, cook your comfort food, and then hold you close while humming softly until you fall asleep in his arms. He makes you feel like the most cherished person on earth.

He dreams about building a beautiful future with you. You’ll often catch him talking about “our home”, “our future kids”, or “growing old together” with the brightest smile. He wants to give you the entire world and makes sure you never doubt how deeply he loves you.

NSFW:

While Felix is the sweetest and most angelic husband on the outside, behind closed doors he becomes an entirely different person — dominant, intense, and incredibly commanding.

His deep voice is his biggest weapon. The moment he switches into dom mode, that low, raspy Australian accent becomes pure sin. He loves using it to control you completely. A simple “On your knees, baby” or “Be quiet and take what I give you” said in that velvet voice is enough to make your legs shake.

Felix has strong BDSM tendencies and loves incorporating them into your sex life (always with clear consent and aftercare). He enjoys light impact play — spanking your ass hard until it’s red and marked with his handprints, then soothing the skin right after with gentle kisses. He loves choking you just enough to make you feel owned, his large hand wrapped around your throat while he looks into your eyes and growls “You’re mine, understand?”

He’s very into degradation mixed with praise. He’ll call you “my dirty little wife”, “greedy slut”, or “such a desperate whore for your husband” in that deep voice, only to follow it up with “but you’re so fucking perfect like this… taking everything I give you so well.”

He loves putting you in submissive positions where he has full control: fucking you from behind while pulling your hair, bending you over the desk or the kitchen counter, or tying your hands with his belt or silk ties. His favorite is missionary where he can pin your wrists above your head with one hand and fuck you deep and hard while maintaining intense eye contact.

Felix is obsessed with power exchange. He loves when you obey him instantly — spreading your legs wider when he commands, or asking for permission to cum. When you’re being especially good, he rewards you with the most mind-blowing orgasms. When you’re bratty, he enjoys punishing you with edging, overstimulating you until you’re crying and begging.

He has incredible stamina. He can fuck you for hours — switching between rough, deep thrusts that make the bed shake and slow, teasing rolls of his hips that drive you insane. He loves making you squirm and moan loudly, pushing you to your limits and then pulling you back just to do it all over again.

Even when he’s being rough and dominant, there’s still an underlying layer of love. Between degrading words and hard spanks, he’ll lean down and kiss you passionately, whispering “I love you so much” against your lips while still pounding into you mercilessly.

After every intense session, Felix turns back into the softest husband imaginable. The aftercare is long and loving — he cleans you up gently, checks if you’re okay, brings you water, and holds you tightly against his chest. He’ll stroke your hair, kiss every mark he left on your body, and whisper sweet praises like “You did so well for me, my love… my perfect wife” until you fall asleep feeling completely safe and adored.

Han

SFW:

Han is the definition of a whipped, loving, and incredibly affectionate husband. He’s completely head over heels for you and doesn’t even try to hide it. To everyone around, it’s obvious how much he adores his wife — he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

He’s extremely clingy and touchy in the sweetest way. The second he gets home, he’s already searching for you, calling out “Jagiya~” in that cute voice until he finds you. He loves attacking you with kisses — quick pecks all over your face, long kisses on your lips, and soft kisses on your neck while he hugs you tightly from behind. He can spend minutes just kissing you without saying anything, like he can’t get enough of your taste.

Han is the type of husband who lives to make you happy. He obeys you so easily in daily life — whether it’s running to the store because you want something, doing chores the way you like, or changing plans last minute just because you asked. He genuinely loves when you take the lead and tell him what to do. “Yes, baby” and “Whatever you want, my wife” are phrases you hear from him all the time.

He’s incredibly playful and fun to live with. The house is always filled with laughter because of his silly jokes and random aegyo. But underneath all the chaos, he’s deeply emotional and soft. He loves cuddling on the couch for hours, laying his head on your chest while you play with his hair, or falling asleep wrapped around you like a koala.

Han is the king of random affection. He’ll send you voice notes throughout the day full of “I miss you”, “I love you so much”, and cute sounds. He brings home little gifts — snacks he knows you like, a plushie he thought was cute, or flowers he saw on the way home. He calls you “my wife”, “baby”, “princess”, and “noona” (even if you’re not older) with the brightest smile.

When he does something wrong or upsets you even a little, he turns into the cutest puppy. He looks at you with those big, round, sparkling eyes full of regret, pouting and saying “I’m sorry… please don’t be mad at me…” He knows exactly how weak you are to his puppy eyes, and most of the time you end up forgiving him quickly while he smiles victoriously and showers you with even more kisses.

He’s incredibly supportive and proud of you. He cheers for you louder than anyone, brags about you to the members, and always tells you how amazing his wife is. Being married to you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive, and he never lets a day go by without reminding you how much he loves you.

NSFW:

In the bedroom, Han is an extremely desperate and eager submissive for his wife. He lives to obey you and please you in every possible way. The more you dominate him, the more turned on and needy he becomes.

He has almost every submissive fetish you can imagine. He loves being told what to do, being ordered around, and serving you completely. Whether you want him on his knees, tied up, edged for hours, or used as your personal toy — he’s more than happy to comply. “Yes, ma’am”, “Whatever you want, baby”, and “Please use me” are things he says breathlessly while looking at you with pure desperation in his eyes.

Han is insanely kissy during sex. Even when you’re dominating him, he’s constantly trying to kiss you — deep, messy, desperate kisses. He’ll whine into your mouth while you ride him, kiss your neck and chest when you let him, and beg for kisses as a reward when he’s being good. Kissing you turns him on almost as much as being dominated.

He gets incredibly whiny and vocal when he’s needy. Expect lots of desperate moans, whimpers, and broken “Please… I’ll be good… I promise…” He loves being punished. If he does something “wrong” (like touching you without permission or cumming too early), he’ll look up at you with those big puppy eyes, pouting and begging for forgiveness while his cock twitches with excitement. Most of the time you forgive him quickly because he looks too adorable, but sometimes you make him wait and suffer a little longer just to hear him whine more.

His favorite thing is when you take complete control. He loves when you ride him hard, when you edge him until he’s crying, when you sit on his face and use his mouth for your pleasure, or when you make him wear a collar while you stroke him slowly. He has a strong praise kink too — every “Good boy”, “You’re doing so well for me”, or “Such an obedient husband” makes him melt and leak precum instantly.

Han especially loves being overstimulated. After he cums, if you keep touching him or riding him, he becomes a shaking, whimpering mess — tears in his eyes, body twitching, but still begging “Don’t stop… please… I can take it for you.”

He’s very into body worship from the submissive side. He loves kissing and licking every part of your body when you allow it — especially your thighs, your pussy, and your breasts. When you sit on his face, he eats you out like a starving man, moaning loudly and desperately trying to make you cum as many times as possible.

Even in his most submissive moments, there’s so much love. Between desperate whimpers and pleas, he’ll look at you with heart eyes and whisper “I love you… I love being yours…”

Aftercare with him is incredibly sweet. Once the scene is over, he becomes extra clingy and soft. He’ll nuzzle into your neck, cover you with small kisses, and let you baby him while he recovers. He loves when you praise him and tell him how good he was, falling asleep in your arms with a satisfied, lovesick smile on his face.

Seungmin

SFW:

Seungmin is the type of husband who shows his love in quiet, meaningful ways rather than grand gestures. His affection is subtle but incredibly deep and consistent — the kind that makes you feel truly cherished once you notice all the little things he does for you.

He’s not overly loud or clingy in public, but in private he becomes much softer. He expresses his love through small, thoughtful actions: making sure your favorite mug is clean and ready in the morning, leaving your favorite snacks on the counter with a small note, remembering exactly how you like your coffee or tea, and quietly taking care of things around the house before you even have to ask.

He loves listening to you. After a long day, he’ll sit beside you on the couch or in bed, gently playing with your fingers while you talk about everything that happened. He doesn’t always say much, but his attentive gaze and occasional soft “Hmm” or “That sounds tough” show how much he cares. He’s the husband who remembers the smallest details you mention in passing and brings them up weeks later.

Seungmin has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that he only fully unleashes with you. He teases you constantly in that signature deadpan way, but it’s always filled with affection. Right after teasing you, he’ll pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your temple or the top of your head, murmuring “You know I’m just joking, right? I love you.”

He’s incredibly reliable and steady. You can always count on him — whether it’s picking you up when it’s raining, helping you with work, or simply being there when you need quiet comfort. On days when you’re feeling down, he doesn’t overwhelm you with words. Instead, he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, rest his chin on your shoulder, and stay like that until you feel better.

He calls you “wife” in a soft, almost shy way when it’s just the two of you. He also uses “baby” and “jagiya” sparingly, but when he does, his voice carries so much warmth. He loves holding your hand under the table or resting his hand on your thigh while watching movies. His favorite moments are the quiet ones — reading together, listening to music, or simply existing in comfortable silence while tangled up on the couch.

Even though he’s discreet with his affection, the love he has for you is profound. He shows it by always choosing you, by being patient, by making you feel safe, and by being the calm presence you can always lean on. He may not say “I love you” every five minutes, but when he does say it, it carries the weight of all the quiet ways he’s been loving you every day.

NSFW:

In the bedroom, Seungmin is a perfect switch with a strong submissive lean. He’s not fully desperate like some of the others, but he deeply enjoys when you take control and push his limits, especially with overstimulation and toys.

He loves when you use toys on him. Vibrators, cock rings, prostate massagers, plugs — he’s very open to almost anything as long as it’s you controlling the pleasure. He particularly enjoys being edged for a long time. You can have him trembling and biting his lip while you slowly stroke him with a toy, bringing him right to the edge and then stopping, over and over again until he’s breathing heavily and quietly begging with that husky voice.

Seungmin is very responsive to overstimulation. After he cums once, he becomes incredibly sensitive, but he secretly loves when you keep going — using your hand, mouth, or toys to keep working him until he’s shaking, thighs twitching, and letting out those rare broken moans and whimpers. He’ll grip the sheets tightly, eyes half-lidded, murmuring “Fuck… baby, it’s too much…” even as his hips unconsciously push up for more.

He enjoys being told what to do, but he also likes a bit of push and pull. Sometimes he’ll be a little bratty on purpose just to see how you’ll react and punish him. He finds it incredibly hot when you pin him down, use a commanding tone, or make him keep a toy inside him while you ride his face or use his cock for your own pleasure.

Even when he’s submitting, there’s a certain elegance to it. He loves eye contact. He’ll look up at you with dark, intense eyes while you’re on top of him or while you’re using toys on him, letting you see exactly how much he’s feeling. He’s not super loud, but the quiet, breathy sounds he makes when he’s close or being overstimulated are addicting.

He also loves when you use him for your pleasure. Sitting on his face is one of his favorites — he’ll hold your thighs gently but firmly, licking and sucking your pussy with focused dedication until you cum, and even then he won’t stop unless you tell him to.

After intense sessions, Seungmin becomes incredibly soft and cuddly. The contrast is beautiful — one moment he’s trembling from overstimulation, the next he’s nuzzling into your neck, seeking comfort and affection. He loves when you praise him quietly (“You took it so well, Min”) and when you take care of him during aftercare — cleaning him up, holding him close, and stroking his hair while he recovers.

Jeongin

SFW:

Jeongin is the definition of a freshly married, lovesick husband who is still in the honeymoon phase even months after the wedding. Because your marriage is still relatively new, he’s constantly in awe that he actually gets to call you his wife. He’s incredibly soft, gentle, and ridiculously affectionate with you in every possible way.

He’s still getting used to married life in the cutest way. Sometimes he’ll randomly smile while looking at the wedding ring on your finger and blush when you catch him. He loves saying “my wife” out loud — it still gives him butterflies every single time. You’ll often hear him practicing it quietly to himself when he thinks you’re not listening: “My wife… yeah, she’s my wife.”

Jeongin is extremely caring and thoughtful. He wakes up early just to make you breakfast, even if he’s sleepy, because he wants to start your day feeling loved. He packs little snacks for you, sends good morning and good night texts with the sweetest messages, and always checks if you’ve eaten or if you’re feeling cold. Small acts of service are his love language — folding your clothes, warming up your side of the bed before you get in, or carrying your bag without being asked.

He’s incredibly clingy and cuddly. At home, he follows you around like a puppy. He loves hugging you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, and peppering your neck and cheeks with soft kisses. He’s not afraid to be openly affectionate — he’ll pull you onto his lap while watching TV, nuzzle into your neck, and sigh happily when you play with his hair.

Jeongin is the type of husband who gets shy easily, but with you he tries his best to be brave. He writes you little love notes and hides them in places you’ll find later. He gets genuinely excited about planning dates, even simple ones at home, and always wants to know what makes you happiest. He brags about you to the members in the most adorable way, showing them pictures and saying “Look how pretty my wife is.”

He’s very protective in a gentle way. If you’re upset or having a bad day, he becomes your safe place. He’ll pull you into his chest, wrap his arms around you tightly, and stay there as long as you need, whispering “It’s okay, I’m here” while gently stroking your back. He hates seeing you sad and will do anything to make you smile again.

Even after being married for a while, he still gets flustered when you call him “husband” or when you do something sweet for him. He’s just so genuinely happy and in love that it shows in everything he does.

NSFW

As your husband, Jeongin is incredibly soft, loving, and eager to please you in bed. He’s still discovering his confidence as a married man, but what he lacks in experience he more than makes up for with pure enthusiasm and adoration — especially when it comes to oral.

Jeongin is completely obsessed with eating you out. It’s easily one of his favorite things in the world. He loves going down on you for long periods of time, treating it like his personal mission to make you feel as good as possible. He’ll spread your legs gently, settle between them, and look up at you with those big sparkling eyes before diving in.

He eats your pussy with so much passion and care. He starts slow, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs and over your folds, then uses his tongue to lick you from bottom to top, savoring every drop. He’s amazing at focusing on your clit — sucking it gently between his lips, flicking his tongue in steady rhythms, and humming happily against you because he genuinely loves your taste. When you start moaning and pulling his hair, he gets even more into it, licking faster and pushing his tongue inside you, fucking you with it while his nose rubs against your clit.

He can stay between your legs for hours if you let him. He loves when you ride his face — he’ll grab your thighs and pull you down harder, moaning loudly into your pussy as you grind against his tongue. Multiple orgasms are his goal every single time. He won’t stop until you’re shaking, thighs trembling around his head, and even then he’ll keep licking softly through your sensitivity, cleaning you up with gentle strokes of his tongue.

Because he’s still getting used to married life, he’s very attentive and responsive to your reactions. He learns quickly what you like best and always asks “Is this good, baby?” or “Does it feel nice?” while looking up at you from between your legs with flushed cheeks and glossy lips.

When it’s time for him to be inside you, he’s still incredibly sweet and loving. He prefers positions where he can see your face — especially missionary so he can kiss you deeply while thrusting into you. He’s not overly rough, but he can get passionately intense, especially when he’s close. His moans are beautiful and a little shy at first, but they get louder and needier the better it feels.

He has a soft breeding kink that comes out when he’s really lost in pleasure. While buried deep inside you, he’ll whisper breathlessly “Want to fill you up… want to make you feel so full, my wife…” and cum with his face hidden in your neck, holding you tight.

After sex, Jeongin becomes even softer. He loves skin-to-skin contact and will pull you straight into his arms, covering your face with gentle kisses while catching his breath. He always asks if you’re okay, if it felt good, and then cuddles you close, playing with your hair or rubbing your back until you both fall asleep tangled together.

Best friend!Jisung Who you first met in freshmen orientation in high school, moving from a different part of the city, new school, new area — you pitied him, that's not why you befriended him, you befriended him because he was so shy it was cute — and you saw his phone background and it so happened to be your favourite anime.

Best friend!Jisung Who when you approached him was awkward as hell — you found it adorable, taking an immediate liking to the anxious boy, greeting him with a smile, reminding him that you're all new here and hes only an outsider if he makes himself one.

Best friend!Jisung Who you essentially grew up with, going through all the weird, awkward high school phases, when you both found different groups you always stayed close, nothing ever pulling you apart.

Best friend!Jisung Who everyone was shocked when they found out was your best friend, not because you're popular per say, just very outgoing while he was the opposite, both of you bringing the best out of each other.

Best friend!Jisung Who watched from afar as you make new friends, go on dates — not that he was possessive, no he just didn't want to lose you. You knew him better though, the subtle mood shift he blamed to school. Eventually he reluctantly, with red ears told you he didn't want to lose you — which was ridiculous in your mind, not because his feelings were, but because nobody could ever come close to him in your heart — but he didn't need to know that yet.

Best friend!Jisung who graduated with you — immediately telling you when he got valedictorian, who instantly ran to you as he got off stage, hugging you back tightly when you effectively jumped into his arms.

Best friend!Jisung Who made sure you applied to the same colleges as he did, and when you told him that you wouldnt be accepted into the best ones like he would, he scoffed like you offended him.

Best friend!Jisung Who never told you that the top school accepted him, because he was already set on going to the same school as you.

Best friend!Jisung Who made sure to help you move into your freshmen dorm, even if he wast the strongest, he made sure you barely lifted a finger, even helping you decorate your half of the dorm.

Best friend!Jisung Who lived off campus, rooming with Chan and Minho, a high school friend and a guy he met randomly in a class, much to your envy. Being stuck with an awful dorm mate who kept bringing boys back at odd hours.

Best friend!Jisung Who gave you a spare key to his place as soon as he moved in, even making room in his closet for your stuff, as if you even wear it when your over — stealing his clothes as soon as you step into the apartment.

Best friend!Jisung Who everyone thought was your boyfriend, even your other friends had their suspicions but you both heavily insisted it wasn't romantic.

Best friend!Jisung Who was hot, undeniably. Growing into his broad shoulders, learning how to dress, style his hair with little effort, his personality sweet and kind — willingly to apologise to a plant if he bumped into it.

Best friend!Jisung Who was absolutely clueless to the women who wanted him, because in his mind the only woman he ever wanted was you, even if it wasn't romantic on your part.

Best friend!Jisung Who when paired with a girl for an assignment was absolutely clueless when she was blatantly flirting with him, assuming it was friendly, even inviting her to a group hang out when she asked him to hang out, outside the project

Best friend!Jisung Who was again clueless when you started ignoring him after he brought her into his apartment for movie night, pouting in your direction, ignoring jabs from Minho about looking like a lost puppy dog.

Best friend!Jisung Who when everyone else leaves immediately folds, begging you to say whats wrong, he genuinely feels like his hearts going to burst from you being mad at him.

Best friend!Jisung Who you cant stay mad at — but also cant contain how you feel, all the years of hiding your feelings for him, every wall shattering at his pathetic state.

Best friend!Jisung Who was floored when you pull him by the collar, your lips crashing into his, only taking a few seconds to kiss back, his lips attacking yours in desperation, trying to express every feeling, every almost confession in one kiss.

Best friend!Jisung Who whined when you pulled back, desperate for air, only giving you a moment before crashing his lips back on yours, his tongue prodding your lips before entering your mouth, moaning into yours.

Best friend!Jisung Whose hands never left you, tangling in your hair — holding onto your hips, the boy cant stay still, needing to hold all of you, and when he finally pulls back its with the biggest grin ever.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who nobody was shocked when you told them you started dating — hell even your parents weren't surprised, simply going, finally.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who somehow treated you better when dating, not as if he didn't treat you amazingly when friends, but now he can do so without worrying about crossing a line.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who absolutely was obsessed with you — his love language being touch was apparent, his hands always on you, whether it was his hand linked with yours, his head on your shoulder, or if you arent in the mood for pda, his finger linked through your belt loop or linking his pinky with yours.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who learnt to tell when girls were interested in him, though they quickly backed off considering how often he talks about you, every other conversation he has, he mentions you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Whose nerdy side only makes him even more adorable, insisting on couple costumes and cosplays, calling you his player two ironically of course.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who was the most perfect and caring boyfriend, in and out of the bedroom.

NSFW AHEAD

Boyfriend!Jisung Who if you thought was obsessed with you outside of sex — was insatiable with you. Constantly begging for you — whether its for you to touch him or for him to touch you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who genuinely would rather spend hours between your legs than head, a munch through and through, he loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue, squirming around as he licks you through your orgasm and into another one.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who cant stay still as we know, so you're always in different positions — switching from him being between your legs, to you sitting on his face.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who loves using toys on you, his favourite is this pretty purple vibrator, whenever you're being a tease he puts it on the lowest setting, keeping your hands tied up and his hands on your hips so you cant buck up into it.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who only lets you cum again when you're begging for him, even then he teases you about it.

"What — you think i should let you? After how mean you were to me, thought you were all independent, angel?"

Boyfriend!Jisung Who despite his teasing will always let you cum, over and over again. Only removing himself from between your legs when you're begging for more.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who always cums untouched between your legs, the small patch of his cum staining the mattress making him shy away and whimper.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who turns to absolute putty when you take charge, mocking him endlessly.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who whimpers, even when in charge he whimpers, hes so desperate and pathetically in love with you, he just cant.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who cums again within seconds of you putting your hands on his half hard cock, his tip glistening from his previous orgasm, a shade of red that would be so pretty on your nails but that's for another time.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who when you take him into your mouth, bucks into it unintentionally, a string of apologies spewing out as his hands lace into your hair, holding your head in place as he apologies but his hips rut up into your mouth, taking all of him at once.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who manhandles you beneath him, panting and catching his breath, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who is whimpering as he pushes into you, trying his best not to bust the second you clench around him.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who deadass starts thinking of some mathematical equations to not cum instantly, recounting the digits of pi as he bottoms out inside you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Whose thrusts are shallow and desperate, the feeling of your tight cunt taking him is too much, mixed with the sweet moans escaping from your throat.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who always makes sure you cum first, putting you first and needing the feeling of you cumming around his cock — the way your pussy flutters around him — hes addicted to it.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who kisses you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing mess and sloppy, moaning into your mouth, his orgasm coming right after yours.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who mumbles sweet praises into your mouth, as you ride out the waves of pleasure, slowly stopping to make sure you're okay, pulling out gently, kissing away all the tears you shed.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who rubbed soft circles onto your hip as he kisses over your body, not wanting to pull away from you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who reluctantly pulls back, quickly grabbing you a snack and water and a cloth to clean you up. Making sure you drink the water as he cleans up the mess between your legs.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who puts on your comfort show, even if he has no idea what the plot is and you have to explain every character relationship and plot, enduring his constant, wait what happened?

Boyfriend!Jisung Who only falls asleep after you do, not wanting you to stay awake without him, needing to make sure you're okay, only after you're snoring away, kissing your temple before turning off the TV, keeping you close to him before drifting off to sleep holding you.

✉️ — @nanilis @hoonsocks @sweethoons @beomiracles @izzyy-stuff @yvampyr @kookiesnkim @owlieuwu @seungminsslut @hyukascampfire @yawngnab @hoonicon @rianzysworld @soobabbee @nainai112 @drkbl00d @lottiesls @xhoinicx @b4echo