florastorm
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A tattoo parlor opens next to Jisung's bookstore and run by the heavily inked Lee brothers, he knows nothing good can come of it. Until heartbreak finds him falling into the arms of the demon next door and he discovers that just maybe, he'd judged a book by its cover.
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“You know… you’re pretty nice for a guy who probably lives in his mom’s basement.”
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Minho’s sharp eyes are filled with sincerity and want as they study his face. “Princess, in my dreams I’ve traced your lines a thousand times.”
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Sure, alcohol messes with Jisung’s brain, but Minho definitely checks him out just then, eyes traveling down Jisung’s body before they move up and settle on his lips—shiny from the lip gloss he applied earlier. He wanted to look good, and, now, Jisung wonders if Minho thinks he looks pretty, or at least that his lips do. Kissable. And perfect to be stretched around Minho's cock… if Minho wanted him to, Jisung would. He would willingly follow Minho to the restroom and get down on his knees. He doesn’t care, and Minho is so fucking hot. Jisung would do anything to have him. He would happily sign an NDA if asked.
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or, seasoned actor Lee Minho and rising star Han Jisung meet at a brand event; things escalate.
Series
- Part 1 of mind over matter
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“No need to be nervous Jisu it’s just me. Besides I’ve seen your boobs before.” “Omg just because you caught a glimpse at Lixie’s pool party doesn’t mean you’ve seen them! It was just a side boob anyway,” Jisung giggles, seeming to loosen up a little. “Fine, here you go” Jisu sighs with a little smirk on her face.
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Jisu shows her new piercings to her best friend Minhee, and things escalate quickly.
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44-year-old Lee Minho needs a place to live after divorcing his wife. 27-year-old Han Jisung needs a roommate after the previous one moved out.
Jisung is not homophobic. Why is he losing his mind over his roommate hooking up with his coworker?
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paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3
Fandoms: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
10 Oct 2020
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Summary
To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.
He comes close, though.
By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.
What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.
“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”
Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.
(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)