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“I didn’t order this.” The drink was pink in a tall glass with a small umbrella and a cherry. The image of it standing next to Jisung's simple scotch in a short round glass was frankly absurd.
“I know,” the bartender said. “He did.” He nodded down the bar at a group of young men that Jisung had noticed before. One of the boys caught Jisung’s eye and waved, mouthing, “You’re welcome.”
Jisung looked down at the drink in distaste. It was everything he wasn’t supposed to be. Pink, and frilly, and dainty, and cute, and just so very pink. “Seriously?” he asked the bartender.
“I told him it was pretty far from what you ordered before, but he said it fit your vibe.”
OR
Newly divorced, thirty-one year old Jisung goes to a gay club for the first time and meets an odd, but hot, young guy.
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Han Jisung makes a catastrophic financial mistake, where he buys an appliance that refuses to act like one.
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"Hey," Jisung whispers to Changbin, watching as the guy walks away to use a different machine. "Do you think I could pull a pretty guy like that, now that I have muscles?" He says, gesturing to his chest, now large enough to visibly bulge in his white t-shirt.
Changbin looks from him to the guy and sighs, "Dude, that's Minho," he says like that should explain everything.
Or
Jisung is a resolute top with a new gym crush, but the guy keeps rejecting him.
Series
- Part 2 of Thread to Fic
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He hadn't meant to, but he started visiting the park more and more. Rather than every other day, it became a religious event; every single day he was there. He abandoned all his other shifting locations entirely. He told himself it was just because he had so much fun climbing, but every night he spent more time watching the mystery man than playing. He got closer and closer, creeping along the branches until he was hiding in the last cluster of leaves he could, just a few feet from the window now.
Or
Jisung becomes obsessed with watching a stranger through his window, but he has no idea what's in store for him once the two finally meet.
Series
- Part 1 of Thread to Fic
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“Because that's us Minho, you and me. Out there in the danger zone, caught in each other's slipstream. You're unbreakable, I'm unstoppable, and we’ve hurtled towards each other in duel velocity…. We’re both unmovable, but you and me together? We’re indestructible, baby.”
Or,
When Minho’s friend, teammate and mentor, Eunwoo surprises everyone with his spontaneous retirement announcement, his world is thrown into disarray. Especially with the arrival of wildcard rookie, a complete unknown in the world of racing, Jisung. He’s arrogant—bratty—gorgeous, and Minho’s worst nightmare. Whose position on the team is secured only by his wealthy father’s investment offer of a sponsorship deal, saving their financial crisis. Driving fast cars comes easy for Minho, but controlling his pulse when sexual tension erupts with his new teammate is a whole different game…
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thanks for calling by Bangrychannie (Devyn), megaversenumber1fan
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
19 Feb 2025
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“H-hi, Is this the Soonie, Doongie, Dori show?” Jisung stuttered, immediately regretting it. He couldn’t even say hello like a normal person, for fuck’s sake. Obviously this was the Soonie, Doongie, Dori show! He went silent for a few seconds, before remembering that dead air is bad on the radio.
“It sure is. I can’t believe I have any listeners other than them,” Lee Know’s voice cut in, saving Jisung from the awkward silence.
“Yeah, I’ve been listening for a few weeks, actually. Your voice helps me sleep. I’m an insomniac, and nothing has really worked before I found your show.” Jisung rambled, his face flushing as he talked.
“So you called me to tell me I’m boring?” Lee Know asked, tone neutral.
Or: Jisung is an insomniac who's tried everything he can to get a good night's sleep. Nothing worked until he stumbled upon the Soonie, Doongie, Dori show on his college's radio station.
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Minho cringed to himself, flitting his gaze away from his computer screen to look into Jisung’s eyes, to tell him that it was a horrible, terrible, god-awful idea. That he would literally rather do anything else.
“I like free food,” he said instead, against his own will. Turns out he didn’t need the universe to torture him, he could just do it himself.
Or: Jisung asks Minho to be his fake boyfriend so they can get free food. Minho conjures up a fool-proof plan for it to keep happening. It goes exactly as planned.
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Ever since anonymous letters began appearing on his desk, Jisung has felt a quiet thrill throughout the day, an awareness blooming in places that were once calm. Flutters in his stomach and a stumbling pulse that leaves him tugging at his sleeves, never quite knowing if the weight of fleeting glances he feels throughout the day belong to the alpha attempting to court him.
“Hey, hyung?” Jisung skips, batting his eyelashes as he pouts at Minho. “Can I ask you something?”
or: Minho, Jisung and the weight of what's left unsaid.
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Jisung meets Minho on a hot summer morning, the July sun unforgiving outside.
Walking into the diner makes Jisung feel like he is being sent back in time — to a time when he wasn’t born at all, but also to all those days in his childhood when he would come here with his parents. The checkered floors remain the same, the pink leather booths as shiny as he remembers them being; nostalgia stirs in his chest as the waiters skate past him, effortlessly balancing trays full of food on skilled hands.
Mel’s Diner is as pink and cozy as he remembers it being.
“Hi, welcome to Mel’s Diner!” the waiter in their signature pink uniform and white skates greets cheerfully. “What can I help you with today?”
When their eyes meet and Jisung is faced with the most beautiful man he has ever seen, he doesn't expect his life to change the way it does.
(A story about Minho and Jisung, about growing pains, and on how to fall in love over the years.)
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“Hello, this is Minho speaking. How can I help you tonight?”
There is no immediate response, just the sound of someone crying quietly on the other end, something Minho is unfortunately familiar with. He waits, giving the caller space to gather their thoughts.
Finally, a shaky voice speaks up. “I… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
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Or: Minho works on a mental health crisis line where he gets far too attached to one of his frequent callers.
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“I want to kill you,” Minho grunts in pain. “And yet you help me. Why?”
“I’m not sure, huntsman.” Jisung answers. “Why did you let me live?”
It’s like inhaling gravel when Minho swallows dryly. He thinks back to the day they met and Jisung’s wounded body. His brown eyes full of prudence, his serpent tongue and soft skin. The way the other angels seemed to cower behind Jisung like he was their keeper. The way Minho disregarded his safety when freeing Jisung from his shackles. The inexplicit trust Jisung put into Minho after mere moments of meeting, the way he knew Minho wouldn’t hurt them before Minho knew it himself.
Minho looks away. “I don’t know, angel.”
On the brink of death, Minho attempts to pierce the heart of an angel with his arrow. Everything that happens afterward goes against the grain of what’s conventional.
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“Make it so good that it’s… worth it. Worth the risk.” Jisung tugged him closer, voice steady even as his heart raced. “Make it so good that nobody else ever gets to touch me–because no one could compare to how good my best friend fucked me.”
Minho’s ears reddened, in disbelief of the words he heard.
“Jisung… what? You can’t just say these things…”
“Why? Can’t do it?” Jisung asked, challenging.
“No. I can do it,” Minho insisted, then shook his head. “You’re crazy, you know? What’s gotten into you tonight?”
Jisung’s lips twitched with an urge to smile. “You, hopefully…”
“Oh, you little–” Minho laughed, scrunching his nose and leaning in to kiss him again. “Such a little freak.”
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Jisung had enough breakups, so he went to the one he should have chosen from the start. Not for comfort, but something more.
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“Han Ji…Han Jisung what the hell are you doing here” Lee Know stood up from the chair, pointing at him and they just probably seemed two idiots from outside.
“Me?! What are you doing here!” Jisung said, accentuating the word 'you’.
“Well I work here so it's not me who shouldn't be here” The blonde said, waiting for an explanation from Jisung.
“Well I'm Minji’s father and some teacher is bothering her so I have the right to be here!” Jisung didn't even know why he was getting angry.
“You're Minji’s father?! How old are you? And I'm not bothering her!” Minho crossed his arms, and Jisung raised an eyebrow, offended by the question.
“Huh? Didn't seem to matter my age some nights ago” Jisung blurted out, maybe it wasn't the best thing to remember while they were at school.
[...]
“Okay so um…why are you tormenting my Minji?”
“Do you talk like this at every teacher or just the ones you fuck with?”
Or What if, after yet another argument with his teenage daughter, Han Jisung finds a bartender to have sex with? Just for one night...
But what if he soon finds out that the bartender he's infatuated with is also his daughter's teacher? -
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Summary
Jisung might have a problem.
It isn’t that big of a deal, to be honest. She’s just—being dramatic, probably. She’s about to text Yongbok to see what she should do about it. Like, it isn’t a big deal.
Losing your favourite dildo in your own apartment isn’t a big deal. It isn’t.
The problem lies in the fact that she doesn’t live alone.
★☆★
“Hey,” Minhee greets her, sitting up and reaching for the dildo. She pulls it off the table. It unsticks with an ominous pop. “Looking for this?”
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“Why do you care? He’s just a stupid alpha, probably like all of them.”
“If he’s like all of them, why are you still thinking about him?” Yongbok presses.
Jisung kicks at Yongbok but doesn’t respond. Why is he still thinking about Minho? Why does seeing his face in his mind make his chest feel tight? Makes his head pound? This isn’t normal.
Jisung groans in frustration, rubbing his face with his hands. “This isn’t normal.”
“Maybe you imprinted on him.”
alpha hater jisung imprints on an alpha. what could possibly go wrong?
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“Minho, listen to me. Whatever you do, don’t bite him, okay?”
“Bite,” Minho repeats foggily, liking the way the word feels in his mouth, between his teeth.
“I wouldn’t usually be concerned about your control, but with you two…”
“Us two.” He thinks about it. He’s never let himself think of them as an us before. Jisung continues to linger by the door, so close, painfully close. Within claiming distance. Just a scant inch or two of door between them.
“He’s your blind spot,” Chan says matter-of-factly.
“Blind spot?”
There’s a short sigh. “This conversation is going nowhere. I’m coming over, okay? Minho? I’m coming.”
“Minho?” Jisung asks again, and he can feel himself smiling, sunning in the sound of his voice.
“Sung-ah,” Minho says warmly, phone slipping from his hand and thunking softly against the carpeted floor. “Omega.”
Jisung presents late, panics, and hides it from his friends. As the weeks pass, Minho is haunted by a mystery scent that calls to him like nothing ever has before.
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She’s not sure how she managed to pull a girl like Minhee. Sheer dumb luck. Right time, right place. Pity, probably. Jisung can make people feel sorry for her if she widens her eyes a little. She doesn’t usually go around rizzing people up. She mostly just says “skrr” and panics. Hyunjin says it’s off-putting. (But what the fuck does he know, when she said skrr at least three times on their way to the bar and Minhee still wants to—)
Anyway, she needs to leave this bathroom soon, before Minhee comes looking for her. Or worse, before Minhee decides she can do better and leaves.
She can do this. She’s seen Minhee naked.
or: jisung struggles through a life drawing class and makes out with the model.
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Seungmin checked his tablet. “Physical proximity increased your sync rate by 0.3%. Keep it up.”
Jisung leaned toward the panel, whispering like they were conspiring against the world.
“…So should I hold his hand longer, or do we upgrade to cuddling?”
Minho froze mid-step, the word cuddling short-circuiting his brain.
“Please don’t.”
Soulmates were supposed to be miracles. Minho filed his under potential felony.
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Something about the library turns Jisung on. Maybe it's the smell of musty paper, the creak of the old wood floors—warped by time, or the need to keep quiet. The rumbling hush of whispering voices, the flick of pages turning, and the faint tapping of computer keys.
It hasn’t always been like this.
Or
The one where Jisung fucks the books, and later maybe even the librarian.
Series
- Part 3 of Thread to Fic
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Han Jisung doesn’t date. Don’t waste your time.
I heard he has erectile dysfunction.
He’s weird.
Never seen that dude with a hickie.
I’m gonna break him.
★
“What’s your name?” The guy asks.“Minho,” Minho offers. Clears his throat. “Lee Minho.”
“Nice to meet you, Lee Minho.” The guy smiles. “I’m Han Jisung.”
“Do you have erectile dysfunction?” Minho finds himself blurting out. Oh god. Why would he say that?
Jisung barks out a laugh. “So you’ve heard about me, huh?”
Series
- Part 1 of you kissed me (just to kiss me)