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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“morning, sweetheart”

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

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

“... i’m trying”

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

“you don’t have to-”

“i know”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“too nice”, mr. seo would add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

spider-man. 

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

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

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

spider-man swung between skyscrapers before dawn.

spider-man helped firefighters evacuate burning buildings.

spider-man chased armed robbers across streets. 

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

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

crime in new york never sleeps and neither does he. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his aunt may.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ding.

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

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

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

possible armed robbery in progress.

national bank.

multiple suspects reported.

hostages possible.

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

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

han jisung disappears and spider-man straightens his shoulders. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it wasn’t?”

“no”

“it was a little funny”

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

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

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

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

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

“they’re hanging from a traffic light”

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

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

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

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

“officer yang”

“sorry, sir”

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

“i know. congratulations, by the way”

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

“they’re burritos”

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

jisung tilts his head, “a little”

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

“i hate talking to you”

“no, you don’t”

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

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

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

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

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

jisung nods towards the bank, “eight hostages”

“already confirmed”

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

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

“they came in through the underground parking garage”

“good”

“they also complain a lot”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know”

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

“officer yang is laughing again”

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

“harsh”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“jisung!”

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

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

jisung smiles at her, “hi, mrs. kim”

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

he laughs softly, “i always look tired”

“you look extra tired”

“well… i’ve had a long day”

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

“... kind of”

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

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

“you sure behave like one”

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

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

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

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

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

“i will”

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

“oh! jisung!”

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

“you have new neighbours”

he blinks, “i do?”

“yes, the apartment across from yours”

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

“i thought nobody wanted that apartment”

“well, someone has rented it now”

“huh”

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

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

mrs. kim tries again, “they seem lovely”

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

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

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

“you will”

“i just said i will”

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

“isn’t that the same thing?”

“no”

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

“very happy”

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

“eat something!”

“i will”

“and sleep!”

“i’ll try”

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

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

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

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

kitchen

books

bedroom

bathroom

FRAGILE!

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

he’ll meet them eventually.

probably.

maybe.

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

“hello?”

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

the library

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dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

jisung closed the remaining distance between you in two long strides, trapping you effortlessly against the doorframe with a hand flat on the wood right beside your head.

he leaned in close, his hot breath smelling faintly of dark roast coffee, dark eyes scanning your face with a desperate sort of hunger.

“i spent six hours standing out in that miserable sun,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a ragged, needy register. “and all i could think about during every single agonizing second of it was coming straight back here to get my hands on you.”

“is that so, officer?” you murmured, tilting your chin up with a slow, wicked smile, letting your fingers drift lazily up to tangle in the messy strands at the nape of his neck. “let's see you put your money where your mouth is, then.”

that was all he needed to hear after a busy, crappy day.

his mouth crashed down onto yours with a sloppy desperation, dragging you instantly out of the narrow hallway and backward toward the bedroom, trading bitter complaints for breathless, open-mouthed friction.

the blur of stumbling steps and frantic hands lasted only a heartbeat before you collided with the mattress, the old springs groaning softly under your combined weight.

he tumbled backward onto the rumpled sheets with you right on top of him, but even as his back hit the bed, his grip on your waist didn't loosen for a single second. you straddled his hips instantly, pinning him down with a breathless laugh as his hands scrambled eagerly over your ribs, bunching up your shirt and pulling you flush against his chest.

“slow down, officer, you’re going to rip my shirt,” you teased, though your own fingers were already at work, hooked into the stiff collar of his uniform.

jisung let out a low, shaky whine, his head tossing back against the pillows. “don’t care. tear it. take it all off, baby, i need- fuck, i need you.”

you didn't waste another second. with a sharp, impatient yank, your fingers worked down the row of buttons, popping them free one by one until the dark blue fabric parted entirely, exposing the hot, sweat-slicked expanse of his chest.

the silver badge still dangled absurdly from the crooked pocket, catching the dim bedroom light before you impatiently unclipped it with a sharp jerk and tossed it aside onto the floorboards.

his hips hitched upward, chasing your touch, his breath coming in hot, ragged gasps as you leaned down to drag a trail of open-mouthed kisses across his collarbone.

“and this,” you murmured against his skin, sliding your hand down to the heavy leather wrapped around his waist, “is just getting in the way.”

you hooked your fingers under the buckle, unlatching it with a crisp click before ripping the belt free from the loops with one fluid motion. with a flick of your wrist, you tossed it over the edge of the bed, hearing it hit the wood with a dull, heavy thud.

jisung’s eyes fluttered shut, his whole body trembling under your hands as the last barriers of his uniform fell away, leaving him completely exposed, unraveled, and entirely at your mercy.

his shirt gaped open down the front, the badge still hanging askew from the pocket. his dark hair stuck up where your fingers have been, his mouth swollen and spit-shiny, his lower lip bruised a darker shade of pink from how hard you've been biting it.

you were straddling his lap on the mattress, your knees digging into the sheets on either side of his hips, the thick, heavy ridge of his cock grinding up against you through the open fly of his uniform pants and the thin, soaked strip of your panties.

he sobbed straight into your mouth, a broken, wet sound. his hands were roaming unsteady against your bare ribs, his thumbs dragging frantically under the band of your bra like he couldn’t decide whether to strip you bare or just press himself deeper into your skin.

every time you rolled your hips down, the hard length of him slid along your cunt through the damp cotton, wringing a high, desperate whine from his throat that hitched straight against your tongue.

"please-" he begged, the word smearing between frantic kisses. "please, fuck, i need- i need to be inside you, i can't- baby, please-"

you fisted a hand in his hair and jerked his head back, watching him swallow hard against the sudden jolt. you bite down squarely into the soft skin right under the jaw, feel him shudder violently enough that his cock twitched against you through the fabric. another pathetic whine leaked out of him as his hips jerked up on pure instinct, chasing more friction.

with a slow, wicked smile, you settled your weight down heavier, denying him the rhythm he was dying for.

"look at you," you murmured against his neck, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss over the fading mark. "came home stressed out of your mind and now you're already whining for it."

"i'm not-" he panted, a dark frown twisting his face, his eyes wet at the corners. you just let out a low, mocking chuckle.

when you ground down slow and mean, the blunt head of his cock caught right on the soaked crotch of your underwear, and he chokes on a raw sob, his eyes flying wide, his jaw hanging slack as he fights to pull air into his lungs.

"fuck- fuck, please, i need to fuck you, i need it so bad, just let me-"

your free hand slid down the open panels of his shirt, trailing lazily over his hot, sweat-slick stomach. you could feel the muscle jumping beneath your palm every time he sucked in a shaky breath, the dark line of hair disappearing below his navel slicked with moisture.

flashing him a sharp, teasing grin, you dragged your fingernails lightly across his skin, and he jolted, his fingers digging deep into your lower back through your shirt.

you kissed him again, deep and filthy, the wet smack of it echoing loudly in the quiet bedroom. every time he tried to take control, he failed miserably, his mouth going completely slack the second you rocked your hips.

you yanked his hair harder, biting down his lower lip until he whimpered. a simple sequence that unraveled him entirely: suck, release, bite the corner.

his hands slid down to grip your ass, squizzing hard in a desperate bid to drag you flush against him. you let him grind up into you for a few long, agonizing rolls, letting the thick, trapped shape of him rub your clit through the wet panties until he was shaking beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"please," he panted against your mouth, entirely undone. "i can't take it, i'm so hard it hurts, just- just let me put it in, i'll be good… i'll be so fucking good."

you shove him flat onto his back and he yielded instantly, his hands still clinging to your waist like a lifeline. you rose up on his thighs just long enough to shove your underwear aside and free his heavy cock from the open pants.

he was flushed dark red from root to tip, leaking precum that pooled heavily in the cooler air. the second your fingers wrapped around his shaft, he sobbed out loud, his hips bucking upward into your fist in a blind, instinctual prayer.

"so sensitive already," you murmured, amused. you stroked once, agonizingly slow from base to tip, your thumb smearing the wetness over the heavy head until his thighs jumped. "poor little thing."

"baby, don’t- please…"

you rose higher on your knees, lined him up, and dragged the blunt head of his cock straight through your dripping folds. you didn’t push inside, keeping it strictly as torment. you slid it up over your clit before dragging it back down until the tip caught at your entrance, holding it right at the threshold so he could feel the radiating heat without the relief.

his entire body locked up, a raw, broken sound ripping straight out of his chest.

"oh my god- oh my fucking god-” he panted, biting down hard on his lip. “put it in, please put it in, i need it, i need your cunt so bad…"

you rolled the head against yourself again, letting him feel how slick and swollen you were. his cock twitched in your hand every time the tip brushed against your hole, and actual tears spilled over his lashes when you denied him another second.

he buried his face deep into the pillow, letting out a high, ragged whine as his fingers clawed helplessly at your thighs. he couldn’t handle another beat of this. he genuinely felt like he was losing his mind.

"beg better, sweetheart," you rolled the words across your tongue, savoring every syllable.

"please, baby,” his voice cracked down the middle. “i'll do anything, i need to feel you… i've been hard since i walked in, i'm going crazy, just- just sit on it, fuck, please sit on my dick-"

with a sweet, innocent smile, your eyes locked onto his as you sank down slowly. his breath hitched permanently in his lungs. you watched his eyes roll back into his head, his jaw dropping on a silent cry. the stretch was thick and immediate, jisung filling you completely in one long, unbroken slide until your ass met his hips and he was buried straight to the base.

his hands flew back to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise the skin. you could feel him throbbing violently inside you, already twitching on the verge of ruin.

"fuck- fuckfuckfuck-" he was openly sobbing now, little broken hitches leaving him. "you're so wet, so tight- i can't- baby, i'm already-"

and you didn’t let him finish his sentence when you started to move above him.

you planted both hands flat on his open shirt, right over the sweat-slick plane of his chest, and started riding him hard. deep, punishing drops with your hips snapping into his.

the wet, obscene slap of skin filled the room. every time you bottomed out, he let out a punched-out, needy sound, his cock kicking deep inside you like he was one thrust away from losing it.

and maybe he was.

"good boy," you told him, voice low and steady while he fell apart under you. "taking it so well."

"baby, s’too much- i'm gonna- fuck, i'm gonna come-" he whimpered, his eyes glassy, sweat plastering his hair to his temples. "it's too good, god… i need to come."

"no," you said firmly, your dilated pupils locking onto his wet gaze.

you didn't slow down. if anything, you ground harder on the downstroke, rolling your hips in tight circles so he scraped against every oversensitive nerve.

"not yet. you don't get to come yet. we haven't even gotten to the main event."

"i can't hold it-" he cried out, whimpering with every single thrust, his fingers digging into your flesh. "i'm too fucking close, you're gonna make me-"

"hold it," your commanded, tone unyielding. "be good for me, jisung. i know you can take it. just a little longer- fuck, do you feel how deep you are?"

he nodded frantically, then shook his head, then nodded again, completely gone, past the point of comprehending words.

his cock was iron-hard and twitching constantly inside you. every brutal roll of your hips wrung another sob from his throat, each one sharper than the last.

the uniform pants were still tangled around his thighs, his shirt wide open, the cold metal of the badge pressing against your wrist when you leaned forward to ghost a few light pecks over his lips. you rode him right through it, using him ruthlessly, watching his face contort every time you slammed down.

"baby…" he panted, a ghost of a word. "i swear i can't, i'm coming, i'm-"

"don't you dare-"

but he shattered anyway.

his entire body seized. a wrecked, high-pitched sob tore from his throat as he came, his cock pulsing hard inside you, flooding you in thick, hot spurts while he whimpered and shook, still trying to choke out apologies through the haze.

"i'm sorry- i'm sorry, i couldn't- fuck- ah-" his hips jerked helplessly upward into you, riding out every aftershock, eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open and wet.

you didn’t get off him. you stayed seated deep inside him, still clenching around his oversensitive length while he twitched and gasped for air. his hands went boneless on your hips, panting like he’d sprinted a marathon, his chest heaving under the open shirt as a dazed, wrecked smile tried and failed to stay on his face.

without losing a single second, you reached across the mattress, a victorious smile pulling at your lips when your fingers brushed cold metal.

the handcuffs were right where you’d left them earlier. the standard-issue pair he’d conveniently ‘forgotten’ on the nightstand. you picked them up by the chain and dangled them right in front of his face.

the soft, metallic clink made his eyes snap into focus, his breath stuttering in his chest. jisung’s shaky smile widened, ruined and starving all at once.

"oh-" he swallowed hard, still inside you, still so hypersensitive that the minor shift of your weight made him whimper. "yeah. yeah, okay… please, cuff me."

"hands above your head, darling," you commanded, winking at him.

he offered them without a single hesitation, wrists crossing above his head against the pillow, still breathing hard, still wearing that trembling post-orgasm grin like you hung the stars.

you clicked the cuffs shut around both wrists, the metal kissing his skin with a sharp, final snap. he tested them once with a weak tug, and the soft rattle sent a shudder straight through both of you. you could feel his softening cock twitching inside you at the sound.

"good boy," you whispered, watching his entire expression go soft and utterly wrecked at the praise. "look at you, cuffed in your own gear. still buried in me after coming without permission."

"i tried-" he pouted, his voice shredded. "i tried so hard, but… you felt too good. i'm sorry. i'll be better. just- please use me, i can take it, i want it-"

a wide, pleased smile bloomed across your face. you leaned forward to kiss him deep, swallowing his whines and pleas before biting down hard on his lower lip until he sobbed.

after that, you started moving again. more possessive, heavier, harder than before. there was no build up this time, just the wet, filthy slide of his cock through the mess he’d just left inside you, your hips snapping down to take him deep on every single stroke.

he was agonizingly oversensitive, and it showed. his back arched hard off the mattress with every movement, his cuffed wrists straining against the pillows as he fought a losing battle against his own nerves.

a raw, broken whine tore from his throat, his eyes rolling back before he forced the open just to keep looking at you.

"ah- oh, fuck- s’too much-" he sobbed out almost instantly, fresh tears spilling over his lashes, his thighs trembling beneath yours. "baby- oh my god-"

"you can take it," you murmured, leaning down to brace a hand flat on his chest, grinding in tight circles that made his cock drag against every swollen inch. "you're doing so good. such a good boy for me."

"p-please…" he begged, though he didn’t even know what he was asking for anymore, his hips twitching up blindly into your weight. the cuffs clinked as he tried to reach for you. "i need to come again, it hurts so good, please let me fill you up-"

you didn't slow your pace at all. you drove him straight through the overstimulation until he was nothing but a mess of noise under you. whines, sobs, broken half-words, your name slipping from his lips like a desperate prayer.

sweat gleamed heavily on his throat, right over the open V of his uniform shirt. his cock stayed hard inside you, twitching constantly, the first round barely taking the edge off his relentless sensitivity. every time you slammed down, he let out a punched, animal sound, his eyelids fluttering.

"look at me, jisung,” your voice was sharp, steady. a satisfied smile curved your lips when he obeyed, staring up at you through wet lashes. “you don't come until i give you permission. understood?"

"yes- yes, i understand. i'll be good for you, i'll wait, just- fuck- please don't stop…"

you fucked him harder for that, falling into a brutal, punishing rhythm that made you shudder as your own climax began to loom at the edge of your mind. the wet sound of his cum and your slick slapped against the frame, filling the bedroom entirely.

his cuffed wrists strained above his head, his stomach muscles tightening hard under your palm every single time you bottomed out. praise spilled from your lips between ragged breaths, and every scrap of it made him clench and sob harder.

“love you," he choked out, suddenly and completely wrecked. "love you so much, you're so- fuck- you're so good to me… can't hold it, let me come inside you, please i need it-"

you lasted a few more deep, grinding strokes before you felt him throbbing violently, right on the absolute edge, his whole body drawn taut like a wire beneath you. his face was soaked, his mouth open on a continuous stream of broken sounds.

"come," you whispered. "come for me, sweetheart. fill me up like the good boy you are."

he shattered completely at your words, the second orgasm hitting him twice as hard as the first.

his entire body locked rigid, cuffed hands fisting tightly in the air above the pillow as a raw, ugly sob ripped from his throat. he came in thick, heavy pulses deep inside you, his cock jerking hard with every spurt while he whimpered and shook, trying frantically to mouth your name.

his eyes rolled back, his thighs quaking. you rode him through every last dying pulse, slow and deep, milking him until he was twitching and hypersensitive, making soft, pathetic little sounds with every breath.

when it finally eases, he went boneless under you, chest heaving, his tears drying slowly against his temples. jisung stayed buried inside you, soft and thoroughly spent, his muscles twitching with residual aftershocks.

"i love you," he panted again, his voice raw, shaking, and entirely honest. "i love you so much. you're incredible. you're- fuck. you're everything. thank you, thank you-"

you leaned down to kiss him deeply. his mouth was pliant, tasting faintly of salt and sweat. he kissed you back with clumsy, desperate sweetness, his cuffed hands still trapped overhead, letting out a small, contented sigh against your lips when you gently stroked the damp hair back from his forehead.

you stayed like that for a long time, breathing together, his softening length finally sliding free from the warm mess he’d left behind, until his pulse stopped hammering furiously against your palm.

then, you reached up and unlocked the cuffs. the metal clicked open, and you eased them off his wrists, tossing them carelessly onto the nightstand. pale red rings marked his skin where he’d strained against the steel, and you rubbed them softly with your thumbs.

he watched your face the entire time, his eyelids heavy, that same soft, ruined smile returning, quieter now.

he hissed softly at the sensitivity friction as you carefully eased off him, but he immediately hauled you back down against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around your back now that he was free.

the thick scent of sex and his cologne wrapped around you both. his heart thudded steadily under your ear, slowing down at last.

"stay," he murmured into your hair, even though you hadn’t planned on moving an inch. one hand traced slow, lazy circles down your spine while the other found yours, lacing your fingers together over his flat stomach. "just… stay. fuck, i needed that more than i knew," he chuckled softly, a low rumble against your cheek.

you tipped your chin up to press a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, right over the dark mark you’d left earlier. he let out a long, loose sight, the last remnants of his shift stress bleeding out of his shoulders under your weight.

the silver badge on his open shirt pressed cool against your arm as his thumb traced the back of your hand with lazy circles.

"love you," he murmured again, quieter still, his eyes drifting shut against your temple.

you squeezed his hand, and his arms tightened around you in response. the room was warm, dim, and quiet, heavy with the slow, steady rhythm of two people holding each other together.

the suitcase dug a dead-weight path into your thigh when you shoved the front door open, kicking it shut to lock out the night.

the hallway smelled like cheap detergent and stale grease. the air conditioning was dead, and the thick, suffocating town heat caught you behind the knees the second you crossed the threshold.

months spent in a drafty student apartment had made you soft. the humidity felt predatory, crawling under your collar to glue the cotton instantly to your spine. 

and you almost forget the sensation of how all your body reacted to him. your heart stuttered hard against your ribs the second you saw him standing at the end of the hall. 

jisung leaned against the wall, a loose white tee hanging off one broad shoulder and grey sweatpants riding low on his hipbones. his dark hair was a total disaster, matted like he’d rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

his gaze caught on yours with heavy-lidded laziness, dragging down from your mouth, over your throat, tracing the low scoop of your neckline before crawling back up. 

“look what the bus dragged in,” he muttered, his voice a low, gravelly drag scraping down your spine.

he pushed off the wall, closing the distance until the narrow hallway felt like a choke point. his scent hit you first: laundry soap and that sharp, clean musk that haunted half your teenage daydreams.

“good to see you haven’t forgotten the way back to the sticks,” he drawled, a slow, wicked grin hitching at the corner of his mouth. “missed me?”

you caught the inside of your cheek between your teeth, listening to the frantic drumbeat in your ears. this wasn't clean, fresh nerves, it was a rusted, jagged knot you’d been dragging around since you were fifteen. 

“well, i can see the capital didn’t make you any less full of yourself,” you snapped back, your voice catching on a dry hitch. 

a low chuckle rattled his chest as his hand came up, calloused fingers cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging across your hot skin with a deliberate tenderness you had no right getting used to.

“still got a smart mouth on you, huh?” his smile stretched wider.

he stepped closer, shrinking the space until you were pressed flat against the door. his breath brushed your skin. 

“you don’t have a damn clue how pretty you look with your ears burning red,” he murmured, his breath feeling almost like a whisper against your skin.

you forced your chin up, batting his hand away from your face with a sharp swat, even if your fingers were shaking.

“and you still think every girl who looks at you is falling all over herself. keep dreaming, jisung.”

a genuine, sharp laugh broke out of him. not mocking, but thoroughly amused, the kind of reaction that made your stomach flip uncomfortably. his eyes darkened with a sudden, localized heat.

“is that right?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his chest brushed yours, the coarse cotton scraping your arm raw.

your breath hitched, the witty comeback dying on your tongue as his sheer weight boxed you in. when you swallowed hard, he caught the exact flash of triumph in your eyes. his hand dropped to your waist, sliding down your top, his fingers hooking under the hem. 

“welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his face dropping close enough for the bridge of his nose to brush yours.

and before you could draw breath to give him hell, heavy footsteps hammered down the stairs. the furnace-heat of his body vanished almost instantly. his younger sister, and your best friend, hit the last two steps with a heavy thump, her face split by a wide grin.

“enough!” she barked, hal-laughing, half-fed up. “stop jawing in the hallway like weirdos. jisung, get lost!”

she threw a dirty look over her shoulder. jisung rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, flipping her off before crossing his arms over his chest and pretending his phone was the most fascinating thing on earth.

your best friend hit you with a bone-crushing hug, firing off a round of gossip about people you hadn’t thought about in months. 

“come on. the girls are already upstairs!”

you watched her sprint back toward the stairs, her voice echoing as she hollered to the rest of the room about your arrival. your eyes flicked to jisung one last time before you forced your feet to move.

as your shoulder brushed his chest, a heavy hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and yanking you backward until his lips were hot against your ear. 

“see you later, pretty girl,” he rasped.

with a slow wink and a sharp smirk, he turned and vanished into the kitchen. you dragged yourself up the wooden stairs, your legs feeling hollow and the suitcase banging rhythmically against your thigh.

upstairs was a disaster zone of old blankets, cheap room spray, and the sharp tang of wet nail polish.

shouts of welcome hit you and you escaped to the bathroom just to strip off your travel clothes, swapping them for soft shorts and an oversized, braless tee.

when you trudged back in, a stray pillow caught your chest.

“sit your ass down, we’ve been waiting to start the movie,” your friend laughed, pointing a half-empty bag of chips at the TV screen.

you dropped onto the floorboards, trying hard to blank out the phantom weight of jisung’s hand on your waist, but the residual heat between your thighs clung stubbornly to your skin.

hours bled together in a blur of bad rom-coms and stale snacks. eventually, sleep picked off the weaker links until one of them groaned, shaking an empty plastic bowl.

“we’re completely out of junk food.”

three pairs of heavy, sleep-glazed eyes turned to you. a chorus of pathetic pleases and we love yous did the trick. you rolled your eyes, grabbed the bowl, and pushed yourself up. 

the hallway clock dragged toward four in the morning as you padded barefoot down the stairs, the old wood cold enough to bite. the house was dead quiet, save for the sickly white glare of the LED strip under the kitchen cabinets. 

moving like a mouse, you crept to the pantry, looting the shelves until your eyes locked onto a stray bag of your favorite snacks perched precariously on the top wire shelf.

you let out a low huff, rising onto your tiptoes, stretching until your arm burned. your fingertips barely brushed the plastic before your heels slammed back down. 

refusing to quit, you stretched higher. the movement hitched your t-shirt up at the waist and plastered your shorts tight against your ass, the cool kitchen draft making you shiver. 

“fuck. this is ridiculous-”

a solid wall of dense, radiating heat pressed flush against your spine. a broad chest locked against your shoulder blades, hard hips pinning your backside, right as a long arm reached effortlessly past your ear, snagging the bag. 

his other arm slammed flat against the counter beside your hip, boxing you in. his breath rolled hot and heavy against the shell of your ear.

“you should learn to ask for help,” jisung murmured, his voice dropping into a low drag.

your heart slammed hard against your throat. the bag dropped between your chests, the crinkling plastic catching awkwardly against your fingers before he finally let go, his knuckles lingering against yours just long enough to make your pulse stumble. 

you reached past him for the edge of the pantry door, your fingers brushing the cool wood with a calculated intent to slip right out of his orbit. 

“excuse me,” you muttered, keeping your voice low and brittle.

but he didn’t budge an inch. you let out a short, thin sigh through your nose, tilting your head back to glare up at him. 

“... seriously?”

a single corner of his mouth twitched, that infuriating, crooked smirk catching the sickly white glare of the LED strip overhead. 

“thought you were in a hurry, sweetheart.”

“well, i am.”

“then why are you still standing here?”

heat spiked up your neck, burning hot and furious right under your ears. you dropped your shoulder, ducking hard beneath the long arm braced against the counter. or so you foolishly thought.

two quick, desperate strides carried you across the linoleum toward the dark mouth of the kitchen doorway. freedom. or at least, a fighting chance at it. 

“didn’t think you’d actually run away.”

his voice followed you into the shadows, dripping with a lazy amusement. you froze dead in your tracks, your feet halting against the floorboards. 

damn him.

slowly, you looked back over your shoulder. he hadn't moved an inch. his arms were folded across his chest now and one hip resting against the counter, watching you with that smug, crooked grin.

“i’m not running away,” you snapped, pitching your voice defensive as you crossed your arms. “i’m getting back to my friends. unlike some people in this house, i actually know how to behave.”

jisung let out a low, dry chuckle, peeling off the counter and uncurling his arms. he closed the gap between you in two unhurried strides, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a heavy, unblinking focus. 

“right. my sister and her little sleepover,” he drawled, his voice dipping into a low hum as heat radiated off his skin. “is that what you’re running back to? or are you just terrified of what happens if you stay down here another five seconds?”

“i’m not terrified of a damn thing,” you lied, your trembling fingers giving you away. 

you tried to sidestep him, but he matched your movement instantly, his free hand slamming flat against the counter to cage you in.

“prove it then,” he whispered, his face dropping inches from yours.

the absolute last thing you needed was your best friend wandering down the stairs to find both of you tangled up in this kind of wreckage. panic sat sharp and metallic at the back of your throat.

you shoved hard against his forearm. “i’m being serious, jisung. move.”

his expression hardened into something unyielding. the old wood dug sharply into your lower back, and a thin, shaky gasp slipped past your lips when he tilted his chin, his nose grazing yours.

“y’know what?” he started, his gaze locked onto your mouth. “i’ve spent years watching you play dumb. watching you turn red every single time i walk into a room. and you’re gonna stand there and pretend you didn’t think about this?”

“i’m not pretending shit,” you shot back, chin lifting on a spike of defiance. “your sister is ten feet away. the one who told me explicitly that you’re off-limits. have you completely lost your mind?”

jisung went entirely still. the casual arrogance in his posture fractures for a second, replaced by a dark, dangerous spark.

“off-limits,” he repeated, rolling the word over his tongue like it tasted sweet. he let out a dry huff. “is that what she told you? or is that what you tell yourself?”

his hand dropped to your hip, sliding straight under the hem of your shirt to span the bare heat of your spine. the skin-to-skin contact stole your breath.

you forced yourself to swallow, fighting to keep your grip on reality as his breath crashed hot against your mouth. your eyes dragged upward, locking with his in a slow, heavy blink. 

“your sister’s upstairs, jisung…”

a slow, wicked smirk hitched the corner of his mouth. his fingers dug deeper into the warm flesh of your hip, hauling you flush against him until you felt the rigid, undeniable heat of his erection pressing hard against your abdomen. your thighs snapped shut on pure instinct.

“bet she’s sleeping like a rock. just like the rest of them.”

his cheek rasped against yours as he leaned down, his lips trailing a line of hot, wet open-mouth kisses down the vulnerable skin of your neck.

trembling whimpers broke from your throat as his hand roamed from your spine around your ribs toward the heavy swell of your breast, his thumb brushing the edge of your shirt. you pulled him closer by the collar of his tee, your lips hovering mere millimeters from his.

instead of closing the distance, he froze. his lips hovered against your jaw, his breathing hot against your cheek. he pulled back an inch, his heavy-lidded eyes fixing directly onto yours with cruel, intoxicating patience. 

“go on,” he rasped, his voice a low, challenging gravel. 

you blinked, a hot flush spreading violently up your neck and across your cheeks as total confusion scrambled your thoughts. you stared up at him, your chest rising and falling in uneven stutters.

a deeply knowing smirk curved his mouth. he watched you drown in your own hesitation, his thumb pressing a fraction harder into your hip.

“you’ve been thinking about kissing me for years, haven’t you?” he taunted softly, his gaze locked like a magnet onto your parted, trembling lips. “do it.”

panic spiked hard. if anyone woke up, your entire life here would detonate. you were crossing a jagged, unforgiving line with the one person you were explicitly warned never to touch. 

every rational, terrified instinct screamed at you to shove him away, to step back, to pretend this madness never happened.

instead, with a reckless, hollow snap inside your head, you abandoned all reason, surged upward, and smashed your mouth against his.

a low, animalistic rumble tore from his chest. he grabbed your thighs, hauling you up in one brutal yank as your ass landed with a solid thud on the cold countertop. he stepped dead between your knees, the thick fabric of his sweatpants pressing obscenely over your soaked core. 

he rolled his hips forward, the hard ridge of him grinding straight through both layers of cloth. you arched your back, rolling your hips in a desperate, unthinking circle to chase the friction.

“look at you moving for me,” he muttered against your ear, biting down on your lower lip. “wanna go to my room? or are you still gonna run away?”

you shot him a glare that would've been convincing if your body hadn't betrayed you first.

“... just shut up,” your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, “and take me there.”

he didn’t waste another second. he grabbed your waist and lifted you off the counter in one fluid motion, your legs locking around his waist as his hands slid under your shorts to knead your bare ass. your vision swam as he buried his face in your neck, biting hard right where your pulse hammered.

he kicked his bedroom door wide with his shoulder and slammed it shut behind him, plunging the room into darkness save for the yellow streetlamp bleeding through the blinds.

he threw you onto the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest under your weight. he was straddling your hips before you could even draw breath, his mouth smashing back onto yours in a heavy, sloppy collision of lips that sent your head spinning.

a hand shoved under your tee, fingers splaying wide before he dragged his palm straight over your ribs and clamped over your bare breast with total urgency. a rough groan tore from his throat, vibrating straight into your mouth.

“you really came in here like this?” a breathless, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “god, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

with an impatient yank, he dragged your shirt over your head and tossed it aside.  the cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver. he stared down at you for a second, his chest heaving, before dropping his head like a dead weight. 

his teeth sank into the tender skin of your neck, his other hand tangling deep into your hair to yank your head back by the roots, your scalp burning with an intoxicating ache.

his teeth and tongue went to work with a greedy rhythm, sucking hard right where your shoulder met your neck, leaving a livid, bruised mark blooming against your throat.

“jisung- ah, your… your sister,” you protested, even as your hips twitched upward on pure instinct.

“screw her,” he panted, dragging his mouth down to your collarbone before dropping his face directly to your chest to take your swollen, aching nipple into his mouth.

you cried out low, your fingers clawing into his hair as he sucked hard enough to make your vision spot. when he finally pulled back, blowing a cool breath over the wet, gleaming peak, your spine bowed off the mattress. 

“holy shit… been dreaming about this for way too long,” he muttered thick and raw.

“shut up,” you panted, shoving both hands against his shoulders. “you’re acting like a lunatic.”

a sharp bark of laughter tore out of him as he caught your wrists effortlessly, pinning them to the mattress beside your head. 

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he breathed, a wicked smile splitting his face. “you’re lying under me completely soaked, and i’m the lunatic?”

“you’re impossible,” you spat back, twisting against his grip, though your breath was hitching. “if she finds out, she’ll never forgive us-”

“you really think i'd let this happen if i thought she'd hate you for it?” a single corner of his mouth twitched.

the heavy bulge in his sweatpants ground hard against your shorts, pressing a direct, bruising line of friction right over your swollen clit through the fabric. you threw your hips up to meet him, and he slammed down in response, the dry friction turning wet and slick in a matter of seconds.

“jisung, i- oh my god...” you sobbed, your mouth hanging open, your eyes hazy with overstimulation.

you began grinding your hips in tight, desperate circles, short, frantic thrusts that sent blinding shots of electricity straight to your toes.

jisung didn't let up, alternating between punishing your chest with his mouth and grinding his weight down until the friction was nothing short of agonizing. he bit the soft underside of your breast, sucked the tip until it burned, and then dragged his tongue lazily across the wet flesh to soothe the sting.

every time you whimpered against his ear and arched your spine, his erection drove an inch deeper, heavy and relentless. the wet, obscene sound of his mouth working over your chest was driving you completely unhinged. your own breath came apart in jagged, broken pieces with every stroke he took, your legs locking tighter around his waist.

“i’m gonna come in my pants if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice cracking into a rough, gravelly rasp. “i can feel you through everything.”

“p-please… don’t stop, please, jisung-”

he clamped his teeth down on your nipple and gave it a sharp, punishing tug. the sudden sting collided head-on with the throbbing heat between your legs, tearing a loud, uninhibited moan from your throat. he slapped a hand flat over your mouth for a second, letting out a dark, wicked laugh at how fast you unraveled.

his hand dropped away, sliding straight down to the elastic of your shorts and panties, shoving them down in one impatient sweep. his thick fingers found your soaked heat instantly, making him groan.

he dragged a finger through your folds without pushing inside just yet, tracing the swollen flesh and collecting your slick. he teased your entrance while holding your gaze, a smug, triumphant grin cutting across his lips as he felt you part for him of your own accord.

“off-limits, right?” he taunted quietly, his thumb pressing a heavy circle against your clit while his fingers hovered right at your entrance.

“shut up,” you whimpered, your hips bucking up against his hand before you could stop yourself. “just… fucking do it.”

he sank one finger home, sliding it slowly to the knuckle while his thumb clamped straight down over your clit, holding a heavy, unmoving pressure.

“look at me,” he commanded the second your eyelids fluttered shut.

you forced your eyes open, your chest aching at the raw intensity in his face. his lips were swollen, his chin slick with the saliva from your chest.

“don’t hide. been waiting too long to see this.”

he pushed a second finger in right behind the first. you stretched around him, a choked sob tearing out of you as the friction spiked past your limits. he started working them in and out at a steady cadence, though his rhythm stuttered as your face screwed up and your moans turned ragged and desperate.

his thumb began to grind your clit in tight, punishing circles while his fingers curled upward inside you, hunting for that deep, sensitive spot. the ruined pile of shorts and underwear was bunched mid-thigh, cutting off his movement. with a rough jerk, he stripped them entirely off one leg and tossed them aside.

now you were completely bared open to him. the cool bedroom air hitting your slick core made you shiver, and a loud, shameless cry broke from your chest when he jammed a third finger inside. the wet, echoing sounds of skin and friction filled the dead quiet of the room.

you threw your forearm over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound as the overstimulation pushed you right to the edge, tears hot in the corners of your eyes. he snatched your arm down, gripping your face in one large hand and pressing your cheeks hard.

“no. i wanna hear you begging me to take you.”

“j-jisung, please- s’too much, just- ah, fuck…”

“clearer, pretty girl.”

his fingers slammed harder, driving deeper with every stroke. his thumb never relented, circling in a torturous rhythm that built a heavy, agonizing knot deep in the pit of your belly. an ache so massive you couldn't breathe around it.

“p-please… fuck me. i… i need-” you were sobbing now, his free hand returning to your chest to twist your nipple without mercy.

“need what?”

you bit your lip until it bled, trying to drag your scattered mind back together. your tear-blurred eyes locked onto his. the enormous, arrogant grin spread across his face, even through his desperate pants, made your core clench and throb violently around his trapped fingers.

“i need your dick inside… right now. please, please-” you begged through choked sobs, your voice trembling past recognition. 

he yanked his fingers out with a wet pop and slowly sucked them into his mouth, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. the heavy swallow he let out afterward was obscene. he rose up onto his knees between your thighs, tearing his t-shirt over his head in one violent motion. your eyes tracked the broad lines of his chest down to the dark trail of hair leading straight to his waistline.

his sweatpants and boxers hit the floor together, kicked away with zero patience. his thick cock sprang free, heavy, hard, and leaking a clear bead of precum at the gleaming red tip. he wrapped a calloused hand around the base and gave himself two slow, heavy strokes, groaning low as he watched you sprawled open across his bed.

he shoved his hand into the nightstand drawer. the foil tore between his teeth, and he rolled it down his length with clumsy, hurried hands. the second it was on, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your hands and knees by pure instinct. you looked back at him over your shoulder, wild-eyed and shaking, waiting for his command.

“on top. i wanna see you ride it,” he rasped, his voice dripping with raw, unchecked lust.

you swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to his erection before you straddled his hips. the blunt head brushed your soaked clit before sliding between your lips. he anchored his heavy hands on your waist, lowering you downward inch by inch. the stretch burned like fire against your skin, thick and unyielding.

then, you took him, every heavy inch filling you in one long, uncompromising push. you both let out a sharp gasp at the exact same second, and a breathless, disbelieving chuckle rattled in his chest. his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as your inner walls clenched around him in a tight, frantic reflex.

“jesus… so tight,” he growled, tilting his head back up to look at you from below, his jaw locked hard. “made for me. knew you always were.”

you started moving a second later, dragging yourself upward at first just to get used to the heavy, stretching weight of him. you pulled up until only the tip was holding you, then dropped your weight down until your ass smacked against his thighs, knocking the wind straight out of you. he was bigger than anything you had ever imagined.

he let you set the pace for a moment, his hands sliding up to your breasts, pinching the tips as he watched you work. his pupils were blown wide, black pools in the dark room. he couldn't tear his eyes away from your flushed face, your teeth biting hard into your lip, your eyelids heavy. you were a disaster, and he loved every second of it.

then he took the wheel. his hands locked around your waist, and he thrust upward from below, meeting you halfway with hard, brutal snaps of his hips. the sharp slap of skin against skin echoed off the walls, every collision hitting that deep, impossible spot that scrambled your thoughts.

you pitched forward, pressing your palms flat against his sweat-slicked chest, and he yanked your hair back, crashing his mouth onto yours while he fucked you breathless.

“good girl,” he panted right against your lips. “bounce on it for me.”

your brain was melting down into static. your entire body was trembling, buzzing with an electric current every time the thick head of his cock brushed your cervix. you started bouncing faster, chasing the ragged edge of your orgasm with blind desperation.

“harder, baby. use me to get off. i’m all yours,” he groaned, a sharp smack landing hard across your bare ass cheek.

you sped up, the climax climbing the walls of your stomach, heavy and violent. he felt you tightening around him and let out a dark growl. and with one heavy, clumsy shift, he flipped you flat onto your back, shoving your knees up to your chest and driving back inside you with a relentless, punishing rhythm that showed no mercy.

the wooden headboard hammered a dull, heavy thud against the wall behind the bed, but neither of you gave a damn. he held your gaze the whole time he drove into you, sweat beading on his forehead, his lips parted.

“you’ve always been mine, haven't you?” he bit out through his teeth, using that broken, wrecked voice that meant he was losing his mind. “since we first met. since we kissed behind the bleachers. since- fuck, since the very beginning. say it.”

you forced your rattling frame to hold still for a second, hunting for words in a mind fried by pleasure. your fingernails scored deep into the skin of his shoulders as your body bounced with every erratic thrust. you nodded frantically, your lower lip trembling as his thumb found your clit one more time.

“yes! oh fuck, yours- totally yours, jisung- shit, m’coming-”

“come for me. right on my dick. do it,” he repeated like a prayer, completely unhinged.

the orgasm tore right through you. your legs locked around his waist in violent, spasming waves while he kept driving through it, slowing the pace to sink in deeper and harder until he finally went dead still.

buried to the root, he let out a long, ragged roar against your neck, his entire body going rigid as his release flooded the latex inside you.

you could feel him pulsing hot against you, both of you wrecked, chest-to-chest, breathing like you'd just run a marathon.

neither of you moved for a long time. carefully, he pulled out, stripped off the condom with practiced ease, and tossed it into the trash can without looking.

he crawled back onto the mattress, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you flush against his chest, sweat-slick skin sliding against skin. the heavy scent of sex hung thick in the air. he slotted one of your legs between his, pulling the duvet halfway up over your shoulders.

from the second floor, absolute silence drifted down, blowing away any lingering shreds of guilt faster than they’d arrived.

his hand traced slow, lazy patterns down your spine, moving from the nape of your neck to the curve of your hip and back up. he didn't waste breath on cheap romance, because he didn't need to.

his thumb lingered over a rising bruise on your hip, pressing just firmly enough to make sure you wouldn't forget it by morning.

“first night back home,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with oncoming sleep. “and i’ve got you right where you belong. lucky me.”

you didn't answer him. you just let out a soft, boneless hum, pressing your face against the solid wall of his chest as your eyes drifted shut, already wondering what excuse you’d give your friends when they asked where the hell you’d slept.

“There isn’t anything you could do?” Han pleaded, practically begin the head of student support, Jeongin, to support him.

“Sorry Han, I’ll let you know if we have any more students requesting tutors, but for now business is a little slow.”

“That’s okay, just let me know, okay?” Han said, defeated.

Han was a Junior in college, straight A student, full ride scholarship, and a tutor at the student support building.

But he had one problem.

His ancient sound system had finally given up its last breath, but he had to find a way to replace it. The thing is, a setup like the one his friend Chan has, is extremely expensive.

So Han just picked up extra shifts at the gamer cafe...but that didn't make him money fast enough. So he decided to beg the people at the student support office to let him tutor as many people as possible.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Felix, Han’s roommate, was laying on the couch when Han got the call. Han was lazily strumming his guitar, laid out on his pillows and staring into space.

He practically jumped when he saw it was form the student support center, sliding his guitar off of him (careful not to drop it ofc) and throwing some socks and shoes on to run to the office.

.

“But we have to warn you Han, she’s a bit…difficult…she’s already gone through 8 tutors.”

“Gone through?” Han asked breathlessly, coming from the other side of campus.

“They all quit.”

"Oh..."

Han bounced his leg rapidly where he sat in the lobby, waiting to get the details about this mystery girl who everyone seemed to be afraid of…or something.

“Han, here you go.” Jeongin, at the desk handed him a paper containing the student information, and he just smiled and ran off, eager to get started.

.

After looking over your scheduled requested tutoring time, he found your dorm listed on the form and was now right in front of your door. You were in a single dorm, and your door had a ‘Fuck Off’ sign on it.

Real welcoming.

It didn't help that you were blasting heavy metal either. He knocked twice, waiting for an answer. None. He knocked harder, practically banging on the door.

The music lowered a few decibels. "What?!" You yelled loudly, making Han flinch back from the door.

"U-uh...I'm Han, from student support, you needed a tutor, right?"

A moment of silence passed before the music cut completely. The door swung open in almost an aggressive manner. "Unfortunately."

Han was stunned. Terrified.

Han knew of you, as most people did at your university. You were somewhat infamous. Some people knew you as the girl with 'incurable anger issues', who flipped a professors table for calling her 'problematic', who made a kid cry for breathing too hard, and was involved in many, many more incidents.

Han had never been so intimidated in his life.

It all made sense now, the whole 'going through' 8 tutors. He was gonna be working with a monster.

It didn't help that you wore pretty much all black, everyday, giant platform boots, and an absurd amount of studded and spiked cuffs. Your nails were always black, and you always had intense eyeliner that made your eyes almost cat-like. You looked like you ate guys like Han for breakfast.

"You gonna stare at me or get to the point? I'm busy right now." You scowled.

"Oh- yeah, right. Uhm. I'm Han Jisung, a junior from student support, and I've been assigned as your tutor. Could I ask what schedule works best for you?" Jisung asked, trying to sound as polite and professional as possible.

You smirked, letting a huff of air exit your nose on a laugh.

Han gulped. He felt like a sheep in the den of a lion, but the lion was simply standing there licking it's lips, taunting him.

"Okay, well I'm free Tuesdays and Thursdays whenever, just make sure it's not before noon because I don't have classes those days and wanna sleep in. On Fridays just make sure it's not every Friday, but when it is on a Friday it has to be before 7pm because its the weekend. Same thing as Friday for Saturday, and then don't bother me on Sunday whatsoever, that's my rest day. Mondays and Wednesdays are Fine after 5pm which is an hour after my last class." You explained.

Han just stared.

"You getting all of this or what?" You said, your smirk instantly dropping.

"Oh- yeah sorry...what was that again?" He winced.

You practically growled with irritation.

"Give me your phone." You said flatly.

"Uh- okay sure." He said, fumbling for his phone and almost dropping it before handing it over. Way too easily, by the way.

You stared at it. "You gonna put your password in or do you want me to guess it or something?" You tilted your head, raising a brow, and Han almost started shaking.

"Sorry..." He snatched it back, putting in his password, handing it back.

You plucked it from his hands, typing a few things.

You handed it back, your contact on his screen.

"That's my number. I'll text you what I just said later." You said, done with the conversation, slamming the door in his face, making him jump back.

Before Han could even say 'thank you', your heavy metal was unpaused, completely muting his chance.

"Okay..."

He looked down at his phone screen, the contact you put in his phone was simply under 'Fuck You'.

Great, you hated him. You hated him and now you're gonna kill him.

-

"You wan't me to tutor HER!?" Han slammed the paper file on the student support desk.

Jeongin winced. "Sorry man, you were the only one willing to..."

"No. No I did not." Han says assertively.

"You specifically said ANY students, you needed it, you begged me." Jeongin reminded him.

"Okay, well I think someone who could kill me should be the exception!"

"Han, you're being dramatic, she's not gonna kill you." Jeongin deadpanned.

"I'm serious! She's crazy! I may be a nerd, but shes a genuine freak!" He whisper-yelled.

"Do you want the money or not?" Jeongin asked, rolling his eyes.

Han sighed. "Yeah..."

"Alright then."

-

Shit.

Han was running late to your tutoring session, cramming in his own homework between his busy schedule.

"She's gonna fucking kill me." He winced, feeling like he was gonna cry.

His soul almost left his body when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took a deep breath before picking up. "Hello?" His voice cracked.

"You got somewhere more important to be right now?" You sounded irritated.

"No! No- i'm so sorry, I lost track of time, I'm on my way right now I promise!" He wheezed.

You simply hung up, making his anxiety spike, his mind racing with all kinds of ridiculous punishments you might implement on him. He walked faster and faster with each image, wondering if he'll be the ninth tutor you would 'go through'. How is this even allowed???

He finally made it to your door, knocking, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Come in!" You yelled from somewhere inside.

He hesitated, taking a deep breath before twisting the nob, pushing the door open and stepping inside before closing it behind him. His eyes scanned the room. He assumed you were in your room, standing in the entryway awkwardly, not wanting to walk in there without permission.

"Just give me a second, take your shoes off and sit down!" You shouted from the room, and Han had never obeyed orders so fast in his life. He sat on the very end of the couch, squeezing his legs together in an effort to make himself as small as possible, stiff as a board.

Your footsteps were heard, and his head snapped in your direction. You came in, tying your hair in a ponytail. "Next time your late, I won't be very graceful." You said, but Han didn't catch it. With your hand busy above your head, your slightly cropped, loose-fit band tee rode up your stomach, exposing a sliver of skin between it and some very tiny black shorts. It rode up just enough to expose the metal bar going through your bellybutton. And yeah, Han was a little weird, but he could swear he never had a bellybutton kink...

What?

"Hello? What are you looking at?" You sneered.

"NOTHING!" He accidentally yelled, ears burning beside his head. "J-just spaced out, sorry...thinking about- uh...equations..." He cringed, praying he didn't look like a weirdo pervert.

"Whatever, lets just get this over with." You rolled your eyes, laying back on the couch, legs crossed, but you still seemed to take up the entire space. Han noticed the slight smell of weed and nicotine that emulated from your presence, the earthy concoction surprisingly calming.

"So, I saw you need help with calculus?" He said, voice small and shaky.

"Ugh, yeah...fucking hate that class." You grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Okay....uh, then lets start there, yeah?" He swallows.

"Whatever."

"Okay, so..."

And he gets going. One thing about Han is that he is a total brainiac, and when he gets into certain academic topics, he enters a flow. He keeps glancing back at you, making sure you understand, and if you don't, he simply breaks it down, no frustration.

After some time, you get restless.

"Holy fuck this is boring." You cross your arms, feeling your brain throb in your skull.

"Oh- okay, do you wanna move to a different subject..?" He suggests, flexing his hands in his lap.

"No, I want this stupid tutoring thing to be over..." You grumbled, turning away from him.

"Oh- i'm sorry, is there a way I can make it less boring?" He offers.

"Its calculus." You deadpan, facing back towards him.

"Well...I mean sometimes I find calculus fun..." He mumbles.

"Yeah, well i'm not a stuck up little nerd who knows everything." You bite.

Silence.

"I don't know everything..." He feels small under your gaze, and yet he cant help the blood rushing to his face...and elsewhere. Something about you putting him down but saying he 'knows everything' makes a dark, dirty feeling curl in his abdomen. "Do you...wanna take a break?"

"What?"

"Take a break, like get a snack or take a short walk...or something." He says, voice getting smaller with each syllable.

You let out an amused little puff of air through your nose. "Y'know what, I have something I need to do, and I need you to come with me." You smirk, standing up and walking over to the door.

"Me? Uh...what is it?" He asks, mouth going dry.

"Doesn't matter, you're 21 right?" You ask, grabbing your keys.

"Yeah? Wait why do I have to-

"Han, stop asking fucking questions." You spit, opening the door.

"Okay...just as long as it doesn't take too long." He said in defeat, dragging his feet out the door.

"Eh, shouldn't take too long...probably." You shrug.

-

"The liquor store?" Han stares out the window at the shop.

"Yup, and you're gonna do something for me, got it?" You lower your lids, smirking at him with a sinful look. So unfair.

Han gulps "Okay.." He nods obediently.

"So, this guy caught me stealing some shit like a week ago, and I can no longer go in there and buy my shit, so that's where you come in. I need some fireball shooters for a kickback with some friends." You explain.

"Wait- you want me to buy alcohol?? I-I don't think I can, I've never bought it before!" Han starts panicking.

"You're 21 right?" You ask.

"Yeah.."

"And you have your ID, right?"

"Mhm..." He was sweating bullets by now. Han could barely buy groceries with shaky hands and you want him to buy alcohol, and stealing?? What if the guy finds out you sent him? what if he gets in trouble? What if something happens???

"Hannie..." You say, your voice now low, and in a suspiciously soft tone. "You can do that for me, I know you can."

Han lets out a shaky breath, jaw slacking. The praise. The nickname. Your voice. Han was ready to run head first into a war for you, as long as you keep calling him that in that sweet tone with praises littered here and there.

You handed him a sum of cash, and the contact was enough to completely break him.

"Okay." Han said, opening the door before he can even process he said yes, and thankfully before the heat can rise to his face.

By the time he stumbled into the store, the dread of what you got him to do so easily hit him all at once. He felt nauseous, scanning the bottles, feeling so out of place. He was sweating, making up scenario's In his head where the store clerk thought his ID was fake and he'd be sent to jail, where the store clerk thought he was stealing and he'd be sent to jail, where-

He closed his eyes, letting the memory of your voice, your praise, motivate him to get this shit over with.

He's got this.

He scanned some more bottles, finding the shooters, looking for the red and orange devil beverage he had once during a party Felix dragged him to his freshman year. He couldn't understand how people drank that shit, It burned and made him want to throw up within seconds of downing it. He shook his head, not wanting to remember such an awful taste.

Finally finding it, he grabbed it and walked straight to the counter, putting all his fears aside for the mere idea of you telling him he did a good job. He brought the case to the counter, giving an anxious smile.

"College students..." The cashier shook his head, ringing the case up.

Han payed, grabbed the case, gave a quick nod to the cashier, and made his way out, all without shaky hands. He got back in your car, a giddy smile threatening to break out on his face.

"Wow, that was faster than I thought, figured you might throw up by just walking in there." You snickered.

Han felt his cheeks warm again, the praise going straight to his brain and making him melt. "I thought I was going to too..." He feels dazed.

"Alright Han, maybe another hour of studying won't be so painful anymore."

-

And an hour did pass, concluding the 2 and half hour tutoring session. You stretched, letting out an exhausted groan.

"Jesus, that was agonizing." You exaggerating.

"We actually went through a lot, we're on track." He smiled.

"Don't smile at me like that."

"Sorry..." He said, turning his head, cause he simply couldn't stop.

"Alright, now get out, I have a few people to torture..." You joked, smirking before getting up.

Han froze. What?

"Joking." You said before slipping into your room.

Han sighed, disappointed in the fact that he was done for the day, and that he wished he did more so you would praise him more.

Fuck.

-

That was okay, cause the next day he was there bright and early. That was unfortunately a mistake.

He knocked. "Y/N? I'm here early this time!"

He heard something crash to the floor. "One second!" You called out, sounding irritated once more. "Fuck..." He heard you say under your breath, shifting some things around. Your footsteps pounded against the floor, and he wasn't prepared for what he was about to see once you swung the door open.

"Why are you early?" You grumbled, and Han could barely make out whatever the hell you just said.

Cause fuck.

Your hair was slightly disheveled, flipped over lazily, your lips were blushed and wet with saliva, and your eyes. God your eyes. Your eyes were hooded, looking at him like you wanted to eat him.

Whatever that would entail...

Your chest was slightly heaving, and you had a slight sheen of sweat coating your forehead. Fuck. Were you having sex??? Did Han just interrupt you fucking somebody??

Han immediately turned red, even the thought of it making his cock twitch embarrassingly. "U-uh, I could totally come back later- I just thought- Yesterday-

"Han." You stopped him. "It's fine, I'm not busy, but next time just send a damn text." You rolled your eyes, stepping aside so he can come in.

You weren't busy???

Han's eyes looked around, assuming someone must have been in there. Your boyfriend, maybe? Han hates the thought of that.

Meanwhile, you were trying your hardest not to seem at all guilty, wiping the sweat off your forehead. In all truth, before Han came, you figured with about 20 minutes before Han came, you could maybe...get some thoughts off your mind.

You didn't mean to let your hand drift down your body and under your shorts, but you couldn't help the thought of how absolutely pathetic Han was for you, and the look in his eyes when you so easily got him to do whatever you wanted. He was so utterly pure, and it made you wanna do bad things to him, corrupt him for everyone else. The fact that he was so smart and servicing turned you on, more than you predicted.

"Well, I was thinking we could get started on econ and then towards the end review some more calculus?" He asked, sitting down before you sat next to him.

"Sure.." You sat, crossing your arms.

And things were normal, for a good two hours and some change.

"...and then you would square it. As long as you memorize the formula, you honestly got it." He says, in his usual state of being a total genius.

"Gosh Hannie, sometimes it pisses me off how smart you are..." You scoff, getting a bit frustrated.

Han froze. He couldn't believe you said that. Not only did you directly praise him, but you called him Hannie again. His breathing caught in his throat, and he couldn't stop the blood rushing to his face, and certainly not the blood rushing the opposite direction.

He let out a noise, startled at how his dick reacted before he could. You raised a brow, looking at his with a smirk. Fuck, did you know?

"Hannie? You all good there?" You ask, tilting your head.

Han wanted to die in a hole.

"I'm fine..." He started to sweat.

"Can I help you with anything?" Your smirk widened.

God he wished you could.

"No, its okay, really!" He said frantically.

"Okay, if you say so..." You let him be, turning back to the papers, even though you know what's going on.

"S-so- if you take this variable, and pair it with this-

His words were cut short when he felt the tingle of your fingertips brush his knee. "Y'know Hannie...I'm getting kinda bored..." You trace a circle with your finger on his thigh. "Lets take a break, yeah?" You said playfully, completely aware of what you're doing to the poor boy.

He lets out a shaky breath, feeling himself fully harden, having to solve his folder into his lap to hide his obvious bulge. "Y-yeah..." He honestly didn't even know what he was saying yes to.

"Don't worry, I won't make you do anything for me this time..." You smirked.

He just nodded dumbly.

"Now...I actually wanted to ask you something Hannie." You slide your hand to place your palm directly on his thigh.

Han seemed to slightly snap out of his daze, always ready to serve.

"Not about econ, not about calculus...I wanna ask you a personal question." You said, making sure every syllable was clear.

"Anything..." He said, he eyelids fluttering. The way he said it with no hesitation whatsoever had you clenching around nothing, feeling yourself dampen your panties.

"Anything? Do you really mean that Hannie?" You pressed.

"For you..." He said, feeling himself turn impossibly more red, he didn't even know what he was saying, he just wanted to hear your voice.

That made you horny in a way he'll probably never understand.

"Then Hannie..." You leaned into his space, and he stayed completely still, feeling his breathing pick up it's pace. "Are you hard right now?" You whispered in his ear, lips tickling him.

He gasped softly, feeling like his cock was going to explode, but also like his face was gonna start oozing blood from how embarrassed he was. You knew he was hard.

"Be honest Hannie..." You said.

And Han couldn't find a single shard of his being that wanted to disobey you.

"Yes..." He whispered, but it ended in a quiet whine.

"Hmmm...poor baby, hm?" You taunted, and Han whimpered.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to touch himself while you told him how good he was, but he just couldn't. He was so nervous.

"What was that Hannie? Do you want me to help you?" You asked, trailing a finger under his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

He gasped, lashes fluttering as he pressed his folder down on his crotch, his erection becoming unbearable.

"I guess not..." You frown.

"NO!" He gasps.

"Oh?" You smirk.

"Please..." He closed his eyes.

"Please what, baby?" You ask, nudging his chin, signaling him to open his eyes.

"Please..." He whined. "Help me..."

"With what?" You were torturing him. "You gotta tell me what you want."

"Please touch me." He said on a broken sob.

"See? was that so hard Hannie?" You asked.

He shook his head, and you stroked the side of your face.

"I'll take care of it..." You said, licking your lips, pulling the folder off his lap and tossing it on the floor. His jeans were painfully tented, a small wet patch where his tip probably leaks pre-cum like its crying for attention.

"Face me Hannie." You said. Han immediately slid one leg up on the couch, facing his lap towards you.

You then leaned into his space, dragging a single finger up the underside of his cock through his jeans, causing him to let out a breathy moan, his hips twitching up into the touch.

"So sensitive..." You smirked.

You then crawled closer to him, between his legs, fully placing a hand on his bulge and squeezing.

"Fuck!" He moaned, clasping his hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare cover your mouth." You spit.

He took his hand off his mouth, choosing instead to grip the couch. You continued, giving him a few more squeezes.

"Hannie, what's your safe word?" You ask.

"W-what?" HE asked, out of breath.

"Your safe word, you say it if you want this to stop."

"I don't wan't this to stop..." He said breathily, making a wet patch form on your panties.

"If, Hannie. But I need you to have one, or i'll stop." You explain.

He looked to the side, eyes raking over the papers and books from the abandoned tutoring session. "Economy." He said, impatient.

You laughed softly. "Alright baby..." You look back down at his bulge, finally reaching to unbutton his pants.

"Fuck- thankyouthankyouthankyou..." He babbled, the feeling of his cock being freed taking off the painful pressure.

You tug his pants down, fingers trailing over the tip over his boxers where a dark patch had formed. He twitched and whined under your hands.

He was feeling embarrassingly close, just the idea of you touching him going to his head, making an insane amount of pre leak from his desperate tip.

You hooked your fingers in his waistband, finally taking his boxers off, laying your eyes on his length. He had a good size, a pretty pink tip, and a nice curve to it that you knew you'd like later. It twitched up onto his stomach, the slick already dripping.

"Your dick is so pretty Hannie..." You praised, and he had to stop himself from cumming on the spot, his hips stuttering as he let out a high pitched whimper. You lifted the hem of his shirt, exposing his soft stomach, a ghost of abs being there, but they were still visible.

You finally wrapped your hand around him, and he couldn't stop his body from falling back on the couch, his shoulders pressed against the arm as he moaned like a fucking pornstar.

"Fuck..." He whimpered, your hand starting to pump him base to tip, his legs already starting to shake. "You're going to kill me." He swore, but honestly, Han would love nothing more for you to kill him by touching his dick.

"Y'know Hannie..." Han gasped loudly, feeling the familiar tightness in his abdomen. He would never get over that nickname. "When you came early...you actually interrupted me..." You said.

"I'm sorry- i'm sorry..." He sobbed, feeling guilty, remembering what happened.

"I was touching myself Hannie...thinking about you."

"Oh shit!" Han gasped before letting out the sluttiest moan ever. He was cumming. He moaned over and over, feeling himself shoot onto his own stomach, hips stuttering and shaking as you kept going.

"Can you go again Hannie? I know you can, you're doing so good baby." you stroked his face with your clean hand.

He gasped, the overstimulation becoming too much, having to stop himself from saying stop as it borderlined painful. But he couldn't, he needed to please you.

"Fuck..." He whined, shaking, feeling tears prick in the corners of his eyes. "Oh God..." He sobbed.

You continued to stroke him, thumb sliding over his sensitive tip, making him twitch and gasp. "You're so pretty like this Hannie..." You said in a sweet voice, making his breath stutter.

He felt his release build up again. "God please please please- fuck- i'm gonna cum!" He wailed, tears finally falling down his red cheeks.

You didn't let up, rotating your wrist like some succubus sent to torture his dick in the best way possible. He gasped, "fuck- I love you..." He moaned, making you smirk, fully understanding the depth of this.

You knew he didn't mean it, he didn't mean to say the L word. It didn't take away from the fact that that was your confirmation of how obsessed he was with you already, and you loved it. He was so fucked out he didn't even know what he was saying, just completely and utterly obsessed with your touch.

Then he was cumming. Hard.

His hips jerked one more time before he was spilling on his stomach one more time, chest heaving like he ran a marathon.

You smirked, happy with your results. The sight before you was gorgeous. Han was laid back, face flushed, stomach absolutely covered in cum, his arm laid over his eyes, hiding the fact that he was crying.

You took out your phone.

Han sat up when he heard the camera shutter. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Don't worry, just keeping a little something for myself." You stroked his thigh. "Do you want me to delete it Hannie?"

No way. Not when he can just imagine what you'll do with it. "No."

"Good." You caress under his chin before getting up. "Alright, that's about it for today, yeah? I'm going to my room, you can use the bathroom right there," You point at a door next to the kitchen.

Han nods, exhausted.

"And i'll see you next time, yeah?" You nod, turning away.

Han slumps back against the couch, sighing. "Fuck..." He realizes you were probably just toying with him.

"Oh, and Han?" You said, peeking your head out the door.

"Yeah?" He sat up immediately.

"If I ace this quiz tomorrow, I might just have to ride you." You say, winking before closing the door, leaving him stunned.

"Fuck."

~~~~~

I dream about the day I can have my own little pathetic nerd 🤤

You got home from your job one night, tired and sweaty, you work as a dance teacher. The small apartment you live in is empty, Han not to be found anywhere. “Well maybe he isn’t home yet” you mutter to yourself.

The apartment feels empty without Han there, leaving you all lonely. You go to the bathroom down the hall to run a bath for yourself, removing your clothes as the water warms up. As soon as you plop yourself into the tub and lay back to relax you hear keys rattling and the door opening, assuming to yourself Han must be home.

He sees your car keys and your house key already hanged next to the door as he goes to hang his. The apartment seems really quiet, usually you’re blasting music in your shared bedroom with him. He looks around for you “Baby? I’m home” then he stops and smirks as he passes by the bathroom and sees how steamy it is.

With a gentle knock to the door frame he comes inside the bathroom, taking off his shirt revealing his well worked for abs and the rest of his clothing following suit. You giggle as he sits down in the warm water with you “Not even gonna ask before you join, Jisung?” you smirk as he pulls you onto his lap and against his chest.

“Why would I ask if I already know the answer is going to be yes, my dear?” his bare chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles. You rub your hands along his thighs underneath the water “Been missing you” you say as he shutters lightly. “Is that so?” his hands quickly grip your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.

“Mhm…” your eyes light up with excitement as he starts to drain the water from the tub, your arousal pooling. Han places you off him so he can lay back in the now empty tub “Come and take a seat then, baby. Sit here” he gestures to his face. You don’t waist anytime as you gently take your seat on his face, your warm and already soaked core envelopes him completely.

Han groans against you, the vibrations from it sending jolts throughout your body and up your spine. “Gonna eat this pussy” he says against you before diving into you, his tongue going to work at your sensitive bud, sucking on your clit. Your thigh clamp around his face as he eats you out with favor “H-Hannie! So good!” you moan aloud.

“Such a good girl for me… letting me hear your pretty sounds, keep’em coming” ....

𝓐𝓾: I was tired so this is all ig😛🤞