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"People can forget their bags." He responded instantly, almost regretting talking back before the man in front of him opened his mouth.
"Not in my kitchen they can't." He shoved the bag into his chest, the impact reasonably would've scared him more if he wasn't fired up a bit. "What 's your name?"
"Han Jisung."
"Well Han Jisung, if you want to be the guy I want to get to know, you better work for it."
As he left, everyone in the surroundings aware of the exchange, previously holding their breath, either started to disperse or, in Changbin's case, started to whistle. "Good job Jisung. You just earned an arch enemy who knows how to use his knives."(or: Minho is the new chef, Jisung is proned for disaster and ends up creating a one-sided rivalry with the boy, before realising his feelings towards the other were never as simple as he first intended.)
Series
- Part 1 of a little cheesy but still grate
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Minho doesn’t trust his own judgment at the moment, or his flirting abilities. And he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of appearing like a nice, normal, marriageable hyung if he says something like please let me sniff you until I fall asleep. So he only says “thanks.” Then he remembers to add, “sorry again for disturbing you so late at night.”
“My prime time usually starts after Hyunjin goes to sleep,” Jisung says, already shifting between his feet, signaling the end of their short conversation. “But he always likes to throw in little surprises like now, so— thanks. For taking care of him.”
Minho smiles softly. Forces himself to say, “well, I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good night—” He pauses. Decides to add a petname. “Jisungie.”
The color of his cheeks turning rosy and beautiful. Jisung smiles and nods. “Good night, hyung.”
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or: a case study in taking things slowly.
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It’s there, with Minho hunched over him, his hands moving in such a soft and delicate way; treating Jisung as a fragile artwork when he realizes it.
“Minho,” Jisung called. Minho was laser-focused on the spot he was shaving, so he just hummed to indicate he heard him, “I love you.”
or: Jisung loves many things, one of them being Lee Minho.
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He knew that there was something hidden under the pretense of a dinner in the palace when his mother had called earlier that day, but—frankly—not even Jisung expected to be told that, by April next year, he’s going to be a married man.
(Prince Jisung crosses too many lines and—to save their family’s reputation—his mother arranges for him to marry the Prime Minister’s son, Minho.)
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Minho’s breath was stolen when the boy looked up, his insanely wide, pretty eyes sparkling with embarrassment and worry, igniting something in his chest.
He breathed in deeply, and the faintest scent hit him—sweet like honey. An omega’s scent. But even if he hadn’t smelled him, his soft features, wide eyes, and flawless face were incredibly omega-like.
What surprised him was that he didn’t find his scent overwhelming. Usually, those with honey scents were far too sweet, thick, and sticky. But his was light, just enough to tickle his nose and make him breathe in a little deeper.
Or thirty-seven-year-old alpha Minho meets twenty-four-year-old omega Jisung, who works at the new convenience store across from his company. He learns quickly that Jisung has an eight-year-old son, and that behind his admirable strength, is a deeply painful past.
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After winning a long and brutal battle that had haunted his family for generations, Prince Minho takes command of a fallen kingdom. His reward: a conquered realm, a crown washed clean of tyranny, and the most coveted omega in all the land.
As two kingdoms unite, Minho discovers that seizing a throne is simple—taming its prince, however, is something else entirely. -
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It turns out, Jisung is really fucking good at kickball. He’s fast as fuck. Quickly rose up through the ranks to become first pick every game. A badge he wears with honor. Or, wore with honor.
Because he’s been dethroned. In his own domain.
Plucked from the heavens by a pair of well-muscled, thick thighs. Amongst his own peers. His closest friends. His community!
Lee Minho came and ruined it all. Because he’s an evil, evil man, with big, thick, strong thighs.
(OR: Minho dethrones Jisung as best in the gay recreational kickball league, and Jisung totally doesn't want to fuck him about it)
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A single hand makes a beckoning motion, fingers crooking like a cat's claws and a slow smile appearing, more a baring of teeth than anything else. The promise of scratches and pain, hidden beneath the sickeningly sweet softness of his gaze.
"Hyung's mouth," Minho accentuates, his hand stilling and tapping his own lips once, "It's right here, jagi. Right here for you, all you have to do is take it."
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Minho didn't mean to walk on his roommate touching himself on camera. He didn't even know Jisung was a camboy.
He certainly didn't mean to appear on camera with Jisung himself, but he's too in love with him to think twice.
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Jisung is bad at relationships and Minho doesn't believe in them, ergo they're just fucking. Absolutely just fucking. Really, truly. No strings attached.
Ignore anyone who alleges otherwise.
(or the one in which two commitmentphobes somehow fall into a relationship with each other.)[ Russian ]
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This only makes Jisung more outraged.
He says, “You’re so full of shit, you don’t even—”
Minho’s arm shifts again.
Only a little. Only enough that his hand moves from where it had rested easily over Jisung’s chest, up, to his neck. His palm settles there easy, thumb and fingers splaying out effortlessly on either side of his jugular. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t press. He doesn’t do anything more than simply rest his hand there.
It steals Jisung’s words away anyway.
“I told you already, jagi,” Minho says quietly. He taps the side of Jisung’s neck, soft. Nice and light. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Confidently, Jisung claims no one can fuck him as well as his ex. Minho disagrees.
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“Is… is that what you would do, then..?” Jisung asks in a small voice, scared to be even slightly too loud. “And if I call the police..?”
A silent moment passes, before a low chuckle rises from Minho’s throat, forcing Jisung’s stomach to twist into knots.
“I’d have you bound and in my hands before the police even get in the car,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb now digging just slightly painfully into Jisung’s jaw. “Is that really want you want, precious?”
(OR: jisung's stalker finally makes a move)
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LMCat_98
> Hey! Congratulations, I’m dming to let you know that you won the 50k giveaway for a private stream. You get thirty minutes free, can request whatever you want, and if you wanna keep it going after your thirty minutes are up, we can talk a little about payment. Please see my pinned tweet for more info about payments + what I will and won’t do! Hope to hear from you soon!Jisung drops his phone to his lap, slapping his hands over his face hard enough that it hurts.
“Fuck,” he says, to nobody but himself. “Fuck.”
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Or: Jisung wins a private stream with his favourite camboy. He stresses out about it a normal amount.
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splintering (soft love, like stone) by skzinger (thelittlestbug)
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
26 Nov 2023
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Jisung’s boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend now – says the quiet part out loud.
It ruins everything.
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His heart is pounding when he looks at Minho again, standing there in the threshold leading to the small living area, waiting for Jisung to explain what he’s doing here, in his apartment, at the most random time of the day.
So Jisung gives him what he wants.
He says, “Hyung, I need to have sex with you.”
(When Jisung was short of turning nineteen, he asked Minho to take his virginity. Three years later, Minho finally fulfills the promise.)
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“Want to kiss you forever,” Minho whispers between steamy kisses. His hands wrap around Jisung’s tiny waist, bringing him closer. “Want to fuck you, too.”
A broken whimper slips past Jisung’s lips, he is perched on Minho’s lap with his fingers running through his hair while Minho leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses on his neck. Jisung wants him so badly, damn. Wants all of Minho—his vulnerability, his gentleness and his harshness. But he can’t, not right now.
“Minho,” he says, his voice low and raspy. Minho gazes up, flushed and sweaty, and smiles at him so sweetly.
Minho kisses his cheek before saying, “Yes, baby?”
Baby. Jisung almost melts beneath the pet name and the kiss placed on the corner of his mouth.
“We need to stop.”
(Or: Jisung gets dared by his flatmates to give up sex for a week, but he's pretty adamant on proving to them that he can totally not hook up with anyone that he says it will be for a month. He just doesn't expect to meet a boy who makes it unexpectedly hard for him to go through with it.)
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“What are we doing?” Jisung whispers, voice shaking, as his right hand travels to Minho’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his lower lip.
“I don’t know…” Minho murmurs back, breath hitching, yet he pulls Jisung even closer, until their foreheads press together.
“Minho…” he whimpers again, body trembling and lips barely a breath away. His fingers dig deeper into Minho’s hair, drawing him closer, heart racing faster than ever before. “Kiss me… please… p—please, kiss m—”
Minho moves without hesitation, leaning forward, and their lips collide in a desperate, electrifying kiss.
Or: Minho, Jisung and the aftermath of them playing the Pepero Game
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“It was supposed to be me!” Jisung’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “There’s nothing I wanted more in this world than to be your Omega. To be yours, hyung.”
Their eyes met, shimmering with unshed tears, silent and helpless.
A strangled sob escaped Jisung’s throat, and he shut his eyes tight against the flood of pain.
“I’m in love with you, Minho. Always have been.”
The confession spilled out, heavy with truth and soaked in agony. Tears poured down his face, unstoppable.
His body shook.
He clenched his eyes tighter.
“And y-you broke my fucking heart.”
Or: After Minho presents as an Alpha, Jisung dreams of presenting as his Omega — but years pass, and it still hasn’t happened. When Jisung discovers Minho spent his rut with another Omega, jealousy and insecurity overwhelm him, triggering his own presentation at the worst possible moment. But Minho isn’t there to help him trough his heat.
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When Lee Minho's harmless little crush on this super cute boy in his Economics class starts becoming a problem, he proceeds to seek out an effective distraction.
He does find one, and don't get him wrong, Changbin is great! The only downside is that his roommate just so happens to be no other than Minho's little crush; the one and only Han Jisung.
written for #minsungficathon
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“Okay, so—I kind of looked at your Instagram before planning the date, and I saw you have three cats. Do—Do you like cats?” Jisung asks, and Minho sees him cringe at himself, but he only processes it partially, because his heart jumps at the mention of his cats.
No. No, abort the mission. We can’t talk about cats. Cats are forbidden territory because they’re too close to Minho’s heart. Once someone shows interest in his cats Minho enters the danger zone of latching onto them and showing everything cat related on his phone to him.
This is supposed to be a date just to get his friends off his back about that stupid dare, not to convince Minho that Jisung is actually a cute guy. He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself.
“Y-Yeah,” he simply answers, swallowing thickly and trying to contain his excitement. He really shouldn’t ask this, because if Jisung says yes, then Minho will certainly be gone, but he does so anyway. “What about you?”
"Yes."
Fuck.
OR: Popular Frat boy Minho asks out quiet Jisung as a dare, not expecting to fall for him. Hard.