𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader
wc: 11.1k
cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment
synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.
a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re intrigued.
Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.
Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.
“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”
“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”
“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.
Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.
It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.
You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.
Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.
“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”
“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”
“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”
Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”
“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”
“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”
“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”
“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”
“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”
“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.
His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”
Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.
Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”
You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”
“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.
“It’s not a crush-”
“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.
“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”
Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.
The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.
A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.
It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?
The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.
Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.
The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-
A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.
“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”
“I-I-”
“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”
“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”
“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.
You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?
What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.
“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.
It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.
Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…
In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.
Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-
A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.
Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.
Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”
He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”
You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”
“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”
He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”
He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”
“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”
“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”
You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”
He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”
You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.
“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”
“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”
“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.
“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”
“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”
“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”
You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”
“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”
“I’m not telling you that-”
“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”
“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”
He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”
“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”
“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”
“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”
“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”
“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”
He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”
You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”
“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”
“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”
“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Can I know?”
He turns to you. “Know what?”
“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”
He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”
“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”
“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”
You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?
Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”
You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.
First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?
Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.
Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.
Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.
You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.
“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”
He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”
“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”
He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”
He gulps audibly. “Nope.”
“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”
“He, uh- really? Did he?”
“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”
Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”
“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.
Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.
“I knew it.”
He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.
“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”
“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”
He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”
You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.
“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”
“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.
“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”
You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.
“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”
“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”
You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.
“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”
He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”
“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”
Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.
You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.
“I- Jisung?!”
“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”
You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-
You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.
When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.
You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”
“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”
He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.
“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“
He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”
“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”
He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.
“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“
You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.
It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.
“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”
“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”
You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”
“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”
The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.
He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.
It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”
“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”
“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.
Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.
It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.
Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.
You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”
“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“
“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”
“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“
You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.
The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.
“You look fine.”
“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.
His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.
“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”
The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“
“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.
“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”
You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“
“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.
Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.
You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.
“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”
You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”
“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”
“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.
You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.
You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”
Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”
“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”
“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”
“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”
He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”
You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”
“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”
You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”
Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”
“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.
“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.
The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.
You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.
“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”
You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.
“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.
His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.
“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”
He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.
“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”
It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.
Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.
“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”
He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.
He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.
“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“
You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.
“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”
“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.
“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.
His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.
Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.
“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”
He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“
“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”
“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“
“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“
He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.
“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“
“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.
“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”
“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”
“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”
“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“
“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”
“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”
“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”
He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”
“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“
The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”
“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”
“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”
“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“
He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.
“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.
Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.
It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.
“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”
“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”
“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”
You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”
You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.
3K notes
·
View notes
The Star and the Waiter
(AU: Hobie is a Punk Star coming into a Puerto Rican restaurant and happens to meet a certain cute waiter, Miles! No Spider-man/super powers in this world)
"You fuckers been Ace!" Hobie finished the last song with a big bang having his electric guitar smashing on stage before he jump on to the crowd. The Spider-band kept playing their music while their lead singer stage dive.
The audience cheers out loud a mixtures of joy shrills, screams and tears. They tries to touch every part of the punker, while he sticks his devil horn hand sign in the air.
After another successful concert, the manager of the famous Spider-band got all the members back on the tour bus, "Fucking nice work, guys! Another best show! Ya'll are trending on all social media! Fucking beautiful! Hobie, I could kiss you man!"
Hobie walks in the tour bus with a big grin on his face, "Oh yeah? Never knew you find me attractive, Bruce?"
"Pfft, easy fucker. Figure of speech. Anyway, best way to end the tour. Tomorrow ya'll can rest." The manager chuckles.
Riri, the bass player finally rested on the couch, "Fucking finally! I'm so fucking tired!"
"For real!" Karl, the second guitarist.
"Ugh, I'm so sore!" Mattea groans being so exhausted. "I just want to sleep." She landed on Riri being exhausted.
"Fuck Mattea! Warn a gal!" The dark skinned bass player grunts.
Hobie stood wiping off the kiss marks from his face after they dealt with the VIP fans. There were so many girls than the last time. The popularity of the punk band had grown faster in the last year.
Honestly, Hobie didn't expect his band to made it into fame. Hell, he became one of the most popular, eye candy lead singer around! Anyone would want him. Model agencies, make-up companies, other artists wanting to collab- hell, he even got rich influencers and high class people wanting to pay him to be in a "relationship" with him for the publicity.
No, he's not like that. Maybe that's why his band are so famous. They are the real deal! They never back down on what they believe in. Hobie always doing what he wants and no one can stop him. He is rawr to the core, he never believe in consistency, Chaos, no labels, staying true to his own words got him the fame he needs.
Let's not forget, his looks too! This handsome lad has all the women squealing at his feet. They would faint at the spot. "Hah, crazy you made out with that mum." Karl commented.
"Oh yeah, she was so proud about using her son's college fund to get here." Riri laughs, "Well, everyone wants to fuck Hobie Brown, right?"
Mattea laughs, "For real. Remember that popular celebrity send him a letter begging to be his girlfriend and she was willing to pay him."
"Expensive ass whore." Karl nudges his best friend, "Right, man. You turned down a multi-billion dollar relationship! You'll be set. I heard rich girls like that only into NFL or NBA players, especially black guys."
"That's so true. Didn't her sister marry a basketball player and then, divorce within the week?" Mattea asked, "I say stay away."
"For real, rich white girls like that only cares about flaunting their riches and you know how they love using black men for their sick twisted desire for a mix child. It's all shit." Riri let Mattea lay on her lap while they talk.
"Well, Hobie Brown is never going to be involved with transplants! I prefer the real thing in a person." He walks to sit on a lazy boy, his leather pants made a squeak sound. The lead singer wore all black with a spike battle leather vest jacket, leather black pants with three belts wrapped around his waist, buckled thick combat boots. The sexiest look for the singer, his heavy boots made sounds for every step.
"Hahaha, and that's why you got stalkers. That rich girl didn't take no so lightly." Mattea laughs, "She did a whole story on her social media."
"That's her problem." Hobie chuckles, "Anyway, I'm a bit famish. Is there any food?"
"We got leftovers, dude." Karl checks the fridge to find burgers, tacos, all sorts of leftovers. "I'm sure half of them are spoiled because this fridge stinks!"
"Unless you want leftover old Chinese?" Mattea hums.
"Eck, I'll go grab a bite." Hobie snorted, deciding to get his wallet and smartphone.
"Whoa. Whoa. Hobie," His manager stops his, "Your not going out, again! Last time you did, you got shitfaced and had an all out brawl!"
"Pfft, not my fault a couple of blokes wanted to fight." Hobie remembers he went to a pub to drink and ended up kisses some of these men's girlfriends or dates- Whatever it was. They wanted to fight him so he gladly fought them. That was a trend, all over social media.
Luckily, his fans and most people were on his side. Since it wasn't his fault those women didn't admit they were in relationships. Everyone loses their minds over a Star!
"Let him go, Bruce. Hobie can take care of himself. Besides, we're done with the tour." Riri was on her Smartphone seeing their concert was trending all over on TikTok.
"Hah, yeah. And we go back home tomorrow. So, let's just chill." Karl hums, "Anyway, I'ma order some pizza."
"Oh I'll take a stuffed cheesy crust with pepperoni." Mattea shouted.
Hobie was done with junk food, being on the damn road only got them eating junk. They had only beer, too. He wanted something different, something home-made? He wasn't sure. All he knows he's sick of these take out and expensive dishes that aren't good.
"Bro, you better hurry and get something to eat. Just because it's New York, doesn't mean some restaurants closes later." Riri hums.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be quick, besides I know where to look." He waves his hands away, "I'll be fine, pops." He left with a grin on his face toward his manager.
"Fucking Hobie..." Bruce groans being stressed out, "Send me your location, kid!"
"Fine. Fine!" Hobie rolled his eyes before leaving out of his tour bus, he saw how much the crowd died down. Checking his phone, he saw it was nine... shame, his band could've gone longer, but fucking Bruce warns them to follow the schedule.
Anyway, he saw an interesting spot when his tour bus pass through the city. It looked homey, warm with an interesting art wall on the side. Whoever are the owners of the restaurant, they were smart enough to have an artist to create such a beautiful artwork. Shame Hobie wasn't able to admire it long, since his tour bus speed up. He did remember the name... Morales' Kitchen.
"Hmm," He realized he needs to look it up to see what to order. Pulling up his expensive smart phone, he found the restaurant is Puerto Rican basis. It looked appealing and the reviews shows positive reviews.
Reviewers:
BunnyFox: OMG I loved coming here since I was a kid! Best Puerto Rican FOOD EVER!!!
ShyGuy23: Man, this place is soo good. If you want to taste Puerto Rico, it tastes just like home! I missed my mom's cooking, so this comes close to it.
PuertoRicanGirlie: BEST PUERTO RICAN PLACE EVA!
And it went on with that. Many recommended the traditional plate which contain tostones, arroz con habichuelas (rice and beans), and a choice of chicken, pork, or beef. Many recommended pork or chicken with a side of salad. He'll probably get that, he never had Puerto Rican food.
Now, this might come a surprised from the Punk-Star with his family descendants of Jamaican and Haitian ancestry, he always loves trying Caribbean food. By now, he would've tried Puerto Rican, but nope. So far, he had Mexican and Dominican food as far as he knows.
Well there's a first time for everything.
He chuckles at his own thoughts, he never thought he would say that, again. The nineteen year old had been through every sexual, adventurous experience so his first times were long gone.
Walking in the slight cold night of the city, he pulled out his cigarette to smoke. His wicks bounces from every step he takes, enjoying his walk.
Ahh, this is nice.
Hobie isn't gonna lie, he so far hates being famous. He didn't think their whole life would be on watch.
Figures
In a capitalistic world, only Corporate Greedy, big evil money hungry businesses like the music Industries would leech the blood out of their artists. Do this or don't do this. Hobie thought if he can go back in time to prevent his seventeen year old self to sign his soul away from the contract... would he? Maybe. So far, he hated the constant fans budding in his personal lives, annoying blokes challenging him as they act he never threw hands.
It's funny how the PR teams always work overtime to fix his imagine for the sake of their record labels. There always something with them. That's why he lash out so much the last year, yet his soul takers still try to force him into this mold. A mold of being a basic Poster- HIM A POP STAR?
He would rather eat glass off the subway station floor. Or they try to make him be a rapper or join a Hip Hop reality television show to make a career out of it. They always say, Punk is never forever. Hobie conquer on that, he and his band worked too damn hard to stay true to themselves.
He threaten his bosses that he will make sure he's not going down a fight. There was many "scandals" like nudes, sex videos, drug use, and all to remain trendy and down right fucking true to himself. Controversy can be a powerful weapon, inconsistency is him! All the videos of him kissing men, women, none-binaries- ALL OF IT! He wouldn't care, he never believe in labels and believe in his voice.
His inky eyes saw a poster about Saving Gaza being torn or written. "Hmmm," He knew one of the main reasons to be famous was the amount of power his voice is.
The Punk Star took a photo of the poster, then posted on his Social Media with massive words, "SAVE PALESTINE! FUCK GENOCIDE!" He put the watermelon logo, Palestine flag and rock hand sign.
He's never one to back down for what's right. As he put his Smartphone in his pocket, his phone started to blast with notification of massive people liking, comments good or bad. A smirk on his face knowing the haters will write him a lot of slurs, curse words, but he didn't care. He laughs at them. His voice is POWERFUL!
Now, his record label... his bosses might not take it, too lightly. He didn't care. They got nothing on him and his band.
Then, a savory smell of tomatoes, garlic and cilantro tickled his nose. Huh, I'm here already? He saw the restaurant seeing the warm color scheme of brown, yellow and red. There was a massive Puerto Rican Flag next to the name of the place.
Hobie slowly walks to the mural at the most badass piece. It's a massive mural of black and brown people showing Empowerment with their hands raised into a fist, some figures had face covers wrapped around their mouths with different country flags. A lot of Latin American flags, especially Caribbean flags. There was an abstract city with so many small indication of past racist and discrimination history. What Hobie loves the most about the mural was the massive words that spread on the top, 'We are the People! We have the Power!'
"Fuckin' hardcore." Hobie decided to take multiple photos of the mural. He loves art like this. Art about empowerment in the black and brown community. People of color works on politics, installations about Capitalism ruining this damn world. He looks at the graffiti signature... "MGM?"
Maybe he can find the name on his social media. Hobie can already tell he's going to be a massive fan. The artists already checked off from his list on the art works: Empowerment, check! Representing POC, check! Different from the basic art, CHECK!
His stomach growls, "I should eat." He said to himself, he went to the front door to find the place closed at midnight. "Nice."
When he enters the shop, he saw a very homey restaurant. The walls painted of beautiful scenery of Puerto Rico with people dancing, food, and instruments. The lights were warm, the shades of brown and tiles brick color gave it a very mom and pop restaurant. There was a bar and television up high on the corner next to the bar and other places. So far it's empty.
The punker's inky eyes look down at the Wait list; so far a decent amount people came by through out the day. Then he hears someone coming out of the back of the kitchen, it sounded like two people speaking Spanish.
The person walking out the kitchen to the main floor, his footsteps light which got Hobie to glance up. When he did, he never thought he saw someone so beautiful in his life.
The hostess smiles at him, "Hello, welcome! Is it just you?" His eyes are colored of Honey brown with big doe like eyes.
Hobie had to take a moment to analyze such a beautiful man. He had a tapered short afro with a fade on the sides and zig-zag design on the side. His ears are pierced, nose wide and plump lips with such shimmer warm brown skin tone. Oh shit, Hobie was awestruck.
"Um.. Umm, yeah. Just me." Only a few words came out of his mouth. He wanted to stare at this Host, he had such a beautiful smile it felt like sunshine sending warm kisses.
The host nodded, "Okay, come with me. You want booth or a regular table?" He asked going to the side of the desk to take out a menu.
"Booth." The Punker's voice low like a mumble.
"Okay, I'm Miles by the way. I'll be your waiter." He turns to Hobie with a soft smile.
Miles...
Such a cute name for a cute lad. Hobie stares at Miles' behind seeing his rear, nicely thick. The young waiter had a basic white and black waiter outfit, the collar white sleeves rolled up showing off his left arm with tattoos.
A sleeve tattoo ain't too shabby.
Hobie couldn't tell what it looks like, but he can tell it looks unfinished from the elbow to the wrist. Then he saw Miles showing him a booth in the middle. "Here's the menu, for now do you care for water or your ready to order a drink?"
"I'll have a water, luv." Hobie casually said being a flirtatious, he sat in the booth looking at the menu.
"Okay. I'll give you a few minutes." He let out another smile. Hobie study those big beautiful plump lips, they were moisturized looks like chapstick.
Miles happily went to get a glass of water for the punker. Damn, he's so cute... Hobie didn't look at the menu but had his eyes on the waiter this whole time.
When Miles came back to place a glass water, "Ar-are you ready?"
"Hmph?" Hobie looking stupid.
"To order?" His waiter arched his eyebrow.
"Oh, um... actually." Hobie felt a bit embarrassed for wasting time. Staring at Miles got him feeling like a little lad. "What's your popular dish? Or what you recommend?"
"We have the traditional plate; it got rice and beans, tostones, salad, and choice of meat. I prefer pollo guisado." Miles flips the menu to show the poplar dish being serve, "But if you want something more meat, pernil with a side of tostones. These are our popular dishes for..." He eyed on Hobie, "new customers."
"Heh, because my accent, mate?" Hobie did have a thick cockney accent.
"Hahaha, pretty much, man. Unless you tried Puerto Rican food." Miles giggles.
Damn, even his giggles are cute.
Hobie felt his cheeks warm. If he can turn pink, he would. "No, luv. Never."
"Then I say pick the first one." He gave another smile this time his eyes seem to be gleaming at the punker.
"Alright, the first one. The way you said it. I'm not into pork..." He casually said.
"Okay, coming up." Miles wrote it down, then took the menu. "Any drinks besides water?"
"I would say beer but I'm underage." Hobie chuckles.
Miles' blink a couple of times being surprised, "What? Really!"
"Yup, I'm nineteen years old. I know I don't look like it." Hobie chuckles.
"Oh wow, you do look like you would be around twenty one. Awe, too bad, man. Can't serve you alcohol if you're underage." Miles look side to side with a small whisper, "Don't worry, I'm nineteen, too!" Then winks at him.
Hobie blinks at couple of times, he felt his mouth dry. "Really?"
"What? I look too young?"
"Nah, your tattoos gave it away." The punker said as he took a sip of water.
Miles arched his eyebrow with those Amber eyes gleaming at the punker like enchanted gems. "Oh yeah, how do you know I didn't get when I was sixteen?" He gave an amusing grin.
"You look like a good lad who follow the rules. Something about you seems like the type to never take risk." Hobie grins at him.
"Hahaha, well you're right I do follow the rules but I wouldn't say I don't take risks." Miles winks at him being flirty.
Oh, he's flirting with me?
Hobie felt stupid for giving a weak response, "Hah, risk taker?" He added, "What kind of risk you take?"
"Well, this tattoo." He lift his left arm showing his sleeve, "Not an easy project."
"What is it about?"
"Many stuff. I design the tattoo myself and went to a tattoo artist to do it." He got closer to show a beautiful collage works of graffiti characters, stars, clouds, sun and moon, and florals. A lot of Sunflowers.
"Bloody hell, mate. You design this? This looks fucking amazing. Maybe I should ask you to design me-self a tat." Hobie admires the work. "I got a spot empty at my right side."
"Nah, you wouldn't want a design from me." Miles chuckles in amusement.
"Come on, Miles. I'm being for real. Look, to show how of honest man I am," Hobie pulls out his Smartphone letting all his accessories from his clothes clank and click together, "give me your social."
"Wow, showing social. You're pretty forward, huh?" Miles giggles feeling his cheeks warm by the punker.
Then the other teenager realized he's basically demanding Miles' social. "Ah, my bad, mate."
"No! No-no," Miles chuckles, "It's cool man. Look let me give you my social. But don't be too surprised about my selfies." He gave a mischievous smirk.
Hobie felt the color from his face drain being replaced by a warm shade of red being so damn bashful. Luckily his dark skin tone didn't reveal anything, but maybe his wide eyes did and the way his mouth slight hang open. "Huh?" He could only say then handed his phone to Miles.
The waiter happily gave him his social, "Here's my art account... it's also my personal account." He hums giving some indication about himself.
Hobie took his phone back to look through, "MGM? Wait, are you the lad that did the mural outside?"
"Yeah, that's me." He admits holding the menu close to his chest.
"Mate, that's a fucking fantastic piece. It's bloody powerful!" Hobie said to him being so impressed. Miles is cute, and an artist! So far, he's peaking more of his interest.
"Awe, you're making me blush, man." Miles giggles with one hand hiding his shy smile.
Cute.
"Mijo, ya esta!" The two stop hearing a woman's voice from the kitchen.
"Oh your dish is ready. I'll get it." Miles said as he went over to put the menu away and rush into the kitchen.
Hobie had time to look through Miles' social, he found out the teenager likes to read comics, watch cartoons and anime, and cosplay. He had photos of Anime-Con or Comic conventions. His mouth watered when he saw photos of the cute waiter cross dressing, some with complete makeup with a beautiful design wigs.
He's very talented...
Then, what got Hobie very hype was a photo of Miles having two hip tattoos, showing them off with his sweats low enough his happy trail showings, and if any more probably show more than just hair. Sharply inhaling as he saw Miles wearing a crop top with some booty shorts. He's not afraid of being himself that's for sure.
Hobie really likes that, even seeing Miles' at Pride Parade with a group of friends. They were huddle together wearing the skimpiest of outfits. Miles wearing fishnets with bright yellow top with sunflower ankle jeans and converse shows. He certainly knows how to dress colorful, too.
"OKay, here's your meal. Enjoy." Miles came by with a massive plate of food to set down. Those golden honey brown shines over at the punker looking through his phone. "Enjoying my pics?"
"Hmph? Oh um..." Hobie quickly set his phone down seeing the massive plate filled with rice and beans, chicken smothered with a special tomato sauce, hot tostones and salad. "This looks delicious." He sniffs the delicious aroma of Puerto Rica spices like garlic, tomato, cilantro, and so on. With such deepen scent, it reminded him of his mother's Caribbean spices.
"Thank you. Hopefully your'll like it." Miles nodded with a soft smile on his face, "Enjoy your meal. If you need anything I'll be over there." He pointed by the host desk to wait.
Hobie pouted for the moment, then quickly grab Miles' wrist which cause the waiter to look surprised. "Sorry, luv. Um..." Damn, normal Hobie is such a charmer, he can flirt his way through anything or anyone, but Miles sure left his tongue tied. "How about you sit here? I'm curious about your art."
"Well," He took a moment, "I would but-" Hobie being desperate, he let his hand go, "There's no one here, darling. Come, sit by me, Sunflower."
That looks like it worked because the nineteen year old gave a shy almost flustered smile. "Sure, normally it's not busy around this time anyway. My dad will be fine with me talking to our customers." He sat across the punker with his face resting on both his hands, "Demi lo, Papí. Cómo te llamas?"
Ohh, he speaks Spanish, too. Did he call me, Papí? Maybe I can...
"Mi nombre es Hobie." He finally answered as he took his fork to dig into his dish.
Miles' smile widen showing his teeth, his eyes seem to sparkle. "You know, Spanish?"
"I know about five languages."
"Wow, look at you. I only know English and Spanish." Miles giggles being impressed.
He will be the death of me.
"I'm a bit choppy with Korean."
"Oh wow, you know Korean? I know a lil bit, my best friend is Korean." Miles explained, "I wouldn't put it on my list. What else?"
"Let see, Patios, Haitian Creole, French, Spanish, English, Korean, Chinese, a bit of Japanese.... and I'm trying to learn Sawhili and Arabic." He counted with his fingers as he took a bite of his meal.
"Dude, that's more than five languages." Miles giggles having his eyes on the punker who's eyes widen after taking the first bite.
"I mean, English and Japanese don't count." Hobie said while chewing.
"It's still more than five."
"I know a little Swahili and Arabic." Hobie hums, "Not on the list like someone mentions."
"Hehe, still six, Hobie." Miles giggles with amusement.
"I don't believe inconsistency."
"Really? So you mix your info a lot?"
"Yup!" Hobie got a piece of chicken then let out a satisfying sound, "Mmm, this is fucking good, mate. Finally something good! Tastes like home."
"Good, huh?" Miles grins widely.
"Good? This is bloody amazing. I tried a lot of stuff before and this," He nodded with approval, "Tastes the fucking cake."
"I'm glad. I'll let the chef know." Miles hums happily, "So, Hobie... where ya from, man? You got a British accent and what's Hobie short for?"
Hobie grins widely, "Hobart and I come from good ole' London, luv."
"Hmm, Hobart? I never heard a name like that before. It's kinda foreign."
"Haha, not many have this name."
"But it is cute," Miles saw the way the punker look at him, "Hobie. That's a cute nickname."
"Not cute, mate. I'm dangerous." Hobie chuckles, "Look at me."
"Then what should I say? Handsome? Dangerous? Sexy?" Miles flirted being more bold.
"Sexy? I do like the sound of that." Hobie slowly chews with his eyes on his waiter.
"Hahaha, I prefer cute." Miles gave a smug smile, "Your cute."
"Stop, mate. Ya makin' me blush." He wasn't lying.
"Awe, that's cute." He laughs.
Hobie snorted before eating slowly. He wonders if Miles knows who he is. "So, Miles. What's does MGM mean?"
"Miles Gonzalo Morales. That's my full name." He answered rather quickly. "MGM keeps it fast and neat."
"And your works?"
"Mostly the struggle in living in New York, black and brown empowerment. Sometimes about my sexuality, or how we're often silence. You're lucky you got to see this painting. It's fairly new. Last one, I did a Free Palestine and- Oh Boy, the amount of hate we got. I mean, the tagging and pure hateful groups were making threats." Miles winced, "I don't think I'm strong enough for that kind of stuff... it's pretty scary."
"Fucking nazis. Nothing terrible happened?" Hobie asked.
"Thank god nothing did. My dad use to be a the Chief of Police so many cops respect him and we got lucky with that sort of protection." Miles rubs his neck about his latest work, "I know, it's risk making works like that. So this time I play it safe now with murals for empowerment and aesthetics for this place, but my personally gallery works I go crazy."
"You got a gallery?"
"Eh, it's a small one not far from here, but I do make works here and there." Miles shrugs, "It's my passion."
"Good, you should keep it that way. Trust me, nothing beats creativity, bruv." He took another spoonful, to his surprised he was eating the plate clean. Normally, he'll take a few bites and leave the rest for his friends. Never much of eater, but this meal was too damn good.
Thanks for the advice, man." Miles nodded.
"Also, how did your pops work in a place like this? You say he was a pig?" Hobie commented.
Miles noticed the insult for cops, it makes sense. Nobody likes cops in this day and age, especially with all the shit they been doing. "He retired early from an incident and uses the money to built this place. It's actually my mom's dream, so that food you're eating is from my mami." Miles hums.
"Well, your mom cooking is perfection." Hobie took a bite of a tostones with a loud crunch sound, "Mmm, normally I don't eat much."
"I can see, your very skinny."
"But my height balances out, Sunflower." Hobie added.
"Yeah, you're very tall and this is from someone who's six' two"."
"Ah, I'm six'five"." Hobie chuckles at Miles' expression, he couldn't believe it.
"Dude, you're so tall. I think my uncle is the tallest in my family and you passed him." Miles said being in shock.
"I'm always been the tallest around my family." Hobie added as he lift his glass of water.
"Oh let me get you a refill." Miles got up.
"Oi, um... what about a soda pop, luv? Anything Puerto Rican drinks?" Hobie asked.
"We have Good Ole' Kola, it's a popular Puerto Rican soda." Miles said.
"One please, Sunflower."
"Coming right up." Miles went over to the bar to get a freshly cold can, "Say, why do you call me, Sunflower?"
"Your tattoos and your social." The other teenager said seeing Miles handing him a cold can of soda, he opens it hearing the hissed sound from the soda. "Does it offend you, Miles?"
Miles sat back down with his head shaking, "No, it's actually my favorite flower."
"Really?" Hobie could use that. "Why?"
"You know that Post Malone song called Sunflower?" Miles asked.
Hobie took a moment, "Maybe... not into pop."
"Well, that's one of my favorite song, and I like how pretty Sunflower looks. They always make me smile." Miles leans over to rest his face on one hand, "And fun fact, when there's no light or sunshine, they turned to each for energy. Isn't that cute, hm?"
Hobie sips his soda giving a nod, "So you're saying I'm a Sunflower since I'm cute?" He flirted back having to give a slight grin.
"Hmmm, I wouldn't say you look like a Sunflower. Maybe a Moonflower." Miles hums, "My second favorite flower." His honey eyes seem to glisten at him.
This lead the singer awestruck almost too flustered, he never felt like this in years. He didn't know what to say instead he shove rice and beans into his mouth. "Did you know Moonflowers only open at night and closes during the day?"
"No, I didn't know it existed."
"Maybe I should call you, Moonflower since you call me, Sunflower." Miles seems to be very interested in him.
"Oh yeah? Heh, nobody ever called me something nice like a flower."
"First time for everything." Miles added, "So, what got you coming here so late?"
"Oh... um... I was in that concert not too far from here?"
"Oh I heard some punk band, right?" Miles asked being clueless, "That place was packed! What's the band called... Spider Punk? Spider... hmm, Spider Band!"
"That's the one." Hobie nodded, "Listen to them?"
"Nah, I heard one song from them and it was their latest single." Miles shrugs, "I'm very into hip/hop, rap, R&B, Reggaeton, um... hmm a lil bit of pop. My little sister seems to like the song, it got her to sleep through it."
"Oh cool, she's a Spider-head?"
"Hahaha, she likes chaos." He play with hands together, "She's two."
Hobie never laughs so loud, "What, mate? You're pulling my leg?"
"I'm serious. One time I played a song and she started to sleep through it. I dunno I guess it's her Puerto Rican side loving loud music."
"Well, I'm honored a two year old sprog loves m- punk music." Hobie added, "Though, I hate labeling it punk."
"Oh, your that kind of punker? Hate labels?"
"I don't believe in them. I hate the AM and I hate the PM." The punker shoves the rest of his meals into his mouth then wipe his hands with a napkin. Man, he should've ate slow to keep talking to Miles, but the food was so good. "Never believed sticking to one thing."
"That's punk of you." Miles giggles, "Sorry, terrible joke."
"It's fine. I'll let it pass since this food- Mwah, chef kiss." Hobie kisses his two fingers together into the okay hand sign.
"Awe, good thing, too. I don't wanna piss you off." The waiter saw the plate being so clean, not a crumble left behind. "My mom would be so happy to see this plate so clean."
"It was so good, I want a second one to go."
"I can make the order if you want?"
"Please, do." The punker being very polite with him, never did he become so polite to people he's attractive.
"Alright. It'll take a few minutes." Miles got up to pick up the dirty dishes and utensils, the he went back to the kitchen to submit the order. Hobie nervously sat up straight then he sniff his breath wondering if it smell bad.
Smells like cigarettes... shit.
When Miles come back, all he did was giggle to himself while holding a dessert, "You got my mom super happy. She told me to give some tembleque."
"What now?"
"It's coconut pudding. It's really good." Miles places it in front of Hobie with a spoon next to it. "Trust me, you'll want to lick the plate."
"That's kind of your mum to give me a free dessert." He never experience such kindness before.
"Don't worry about it. She does it all the time when a customer being sweet and cleans off the plate." Miles winks at him, again.
"Can you tell her, thank you. I appreciate it." Hobie got a spoon to try the dessert, "Mmm, this is amazing." He mumbles with awed.
Miles could only smile at him, "You know, I really think you're cute." Slowly sway his upper body being a little shy to say.
That caught off the punker, he nearly choked on his pudding, The had to drink his soda then let out a low, "Wha?"
"I think you're cute. Your eyes grew wide like a kid. It's cute." Miles shrugs as he went back to sit down.
"Um... thanks." Hobie didn't know how to react.
"Oh sorry, didn't mean to weird you right." Miles frowned for the moment seeing how the punker looked uncomfortable. "Oh great, Miles. You thought you met someone else that's into the same team. I'm so sorry if-" Hobie quickly said, "No! Nono! I'm just- I was told many things but not cute. Sorry, for being weird about it, Sunflower."
"Oh, so you're gay?" Miles asked, "Sorry if that comes off rude. Normally, straight guys give me that look."
"Haha," Hobie sat back with a low deep chuckles, "Remember I don't believe in labels, luv. I play all the teams. I believe in connection."
"Oh very pansexual." Miles teased a bit.
"Maybe. Never consistent. Also I jump around with multiple partners."
"Ah, I'm bi-sexual and monogamous. To be honest, I don't like share my partners." Miles shrugs, "But that's just mean. Whatever float your boat, y'know?"
"Don't like sharing, huh? I'm into that." Hobie smirks widely at him this time being bold.
"Oh yeah?" Miles' eyes gleaming, his left leg shakes from being a bit nervous.
Hobie nodded with his hand placed on Miles' hand, "Yeah." His thumb gently massage into Miles' soft hand, it felt so tender. Miles couldn't help but let out a boyish giggle.
When the punker finished his dessert, Miles placed him the bill and brought out the take out.
"Say, this is a little heavy?" Hobie noticed two containers.
"I left you a slice of cake. Maybe you'll like it." Miles' voice went to a whisper, "Shh, don't tell my dad." Hobie let out a low chuckle.
"Cheeky minx."
"Shh. Anyway will that be cash or card?" He asked placing the plastic bag with take-out in it.
"Card, Sunflower. Maybe next time, I can DM you?"
"Sure. Anytime."
Hobie pulls out his black card which got Miles tilting his head to the side. He never seen a black card before. Aren't those for rich people? Anyway, he went ahead charging the card and placing it back on the table with two receipt and pen. Miles went to clean up the tables getting ready for closing time.
Before Miles went over to pick up the receipt from Hobie's table, "Miles, mi vida. Can you help me?"
"Sure, mami." He pouted over to Hobie, seeing the punker is going to leave soon.
Hobie could only give him a small smile, watching his Sunflower go to the back of the kitchen. He thought about waiting for him until his manager is blowing up his phone like crazy.
Bruce: Where are you asshole? Get your ass back to the bus.
Hobie: 🖕🏿 fuck off. I'm busy here.
Bruce: Hobie.
Hobie: 🙄 fine. I'll be there soon.
He cursed himself at his manager. Fucking Bruce. Always ruining his game. The punker went into his wallet pulling out a wad of cash, then leaving Miles a wonderful tip.
Hopefully we'll meet again.
Just like the wind, Hobie was gone from the restaurant. With beautiful thoughts of his Sunflower and hoping for the next time to meet... maybe go on date.
When Miles came back after helping his mom put somethings away in the fridge, he rushes to the main floor to find no one around. He pouted, slowly going over to the receipt. To his shock he saw a five hundred dollar tip. "What?" He almost chokes on his gasp.
Then his hand saw the receipt with Hobie's number and note.
See you later, Sunflower 😉
Hobie's number: xxx-xxx-xxxx
Text me when you want to hang, luv. I'm open this week.
The teenager put the number into his smart phone never feeling so bashful.
Miles felt his cheeks warm, "Wow..." For the first time, his heart was beating so fast and palms were sweaty. To think this cutie Punker would give him, his number. Who is this Hobie Brown? And how he got so much money? Miles' curiosity is getting to him, maybe that's why he found the punker so attractive. He's so mysterious, sweet, beautiful like a Moonflower.
He wants Hobie Brown.
26 notes
·
View notes