Fanfic_Bitchh
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Jisung truly didn’t mean to steal Minho’s jersey.
He didn’t even know whose it was - let alone who the hell Lee Minho was - he just grabbed it, not a thought in his mind as he tugged it over his head as he rushed to get ready for the game. He still barely knew his way around the locker rooms and the field - he had been a last minute addition, joining the cheerleading squad three games into the season.
In which cheerleader!Jisung gets on lacrosse-player!Minho's bad side and has to deal with the consequences for the rest of the semester.
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"Are you still nervous?" Minho asks, retaining that addictive nonchalance to his voice.
Jisung releases a pathetic little laugh between his gritting teeth. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Just a little bit.”
"Let me smoke you out, then."
Jisung makes the mistake of letting his curious gaze wander, allowing a mesmerized "How?" to escape him. He's done the moment their eyes meet, because then Minho's taking Jisung's jaw in his hand while the other holds what's left of his blunt, dark eyes trailing down to the lips he wants to coax apart.
"Open for me."
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Shotgunning: the practice of inhaling smoke and then exhaling it into another individual's mouth.
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- English
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Bookmarked by Fanfic_Bitchh
13 Mar 2026
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From closer, it’s clear that Minho is about his age. He’s handsome— very much so— in an untouchable sort of way. Straight nose, sharp eyes, a defined cupid’s bow. He looks sculpted rather than born. Jisung might shrink under the weight of his presence if the situation were different.
Knowing that Minho is dying ruins the illusion of perfection.
Jisung answers an ad online reading: "I'm going to die, but there's a lot of things I haven't done yet that I don't want to do alone."
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- English
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- 52,768
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Bookmarked by Fanfic_Bitchh
07 Feb 2026
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Jisung sighs wistfully. “Sometimes I just think about it.”
“About… sucking dick?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “they look so— I don’t know. It seems like it would be fun.”
“Fun,” Minho echoes distantly.
Jisung develops a new fixation and goes on a journey of self-discovery.
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“How do you just get roped into a bet for five hundred dollars?” Jisung snorts, sitting back down on the bed with one leg folded up beneath him. He’s still without a shirt, and Minho is having a hard time focusing while his tits are out like that. Jisung’s chest is unfairly sexy.
He forces himself to look in Jisung’s eyes, scowling when he catches the knowing smirk on his face. “I was being judged. He was testing me. That’s not the point—” he swallows the spit pooling in his mouth. “All you have to do is pretend to be my boyfriend for four months.”
“Sorry?” Jisung laughs incredulously, eyebrows shooting up.
“You heard me,” Minho grumbles. This is so fucking stupid. He realizes how stupid this is. “He bet me I couldn’t hold onto a boyfriend for four months. I told him I’m kind of seeing someone already, no big.”
(OR: Minho and his fuckbuddy pretend to date, Minho pretends he's not falling.)