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“You’re going to meet someone, and fall in love. Maybe they’ll be a toxin, or maybe not. But, either way, you’ll know. You’ll be glad you waited. Because you’ll realize that you’re worth more than any silly bloom could ever be,” Minho murmurs into his hair, hand making comforting circles over his back. “And your bond— it should be saved for them. That person you love so much that the blooms don’t matter. Because you deserve that, Jisung-ah. You do.”
Jisung doesn’t know how to tell him that he thinks he already found it. He doesn’t know if he should tell him. Because maybe Minho is right. Maybe he’s got it all twisted up, and confused. Maybe he’s too impulsive, and his brain is latching onto the only constant he has.
Or, maybe, he just knows.
(OR: Jisung chases a bloom he can't reach, and Minho is an expert in self-preservation)
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Jisung stutters his way through the asking. I like the chase. I want you to catch me when I run away. I need to know that no one can ruin this, you and me, not even myself. He barely gets the words out, and then tries to turn to hide afterwards, but of course Minho doesn’t let him.
His voice is smooth when he says, “of course I can hunt you down, honey, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want?” His eyes tell a different story. Already, his pupils are dilating.
Jisung nods jerkily in response.
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Always asking questions, always trying to gauge Minho’s comfort, always checking in on him, asking if it was okay to do this, if he could touch, if he could kiss, if Minho wanted to be left alone. There were moments, of course, where Jisung was confused, or where he had unintentionally hurt Minho’s feelings, or even Minho with him. Early on, certain lines were accidentally crossed, there was miscommunication, misunderstandings, hurt, arguments, apologies made, things forgiven.
Jisung tried—still does try—so hard for his boyfriend. Minho’s perfectly imperfect partner who does nothing but try to make sure Minho is comfortable and taken care of. Over the years, one would think it would become a facet easily glazed over, easily seen as “just another part of their relationship.” But it only makes Minho’s heart swell, each passing year together making his heart so big in his chest he’s scared it’s no longer going to fit inside.
Or the one where Minho finds himself wanting to connect with Jisung in a way they haven't before.
(ace spec!minho & allo!jisung)
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Jisung didn’t prepare for this. He was meant to just— tell Minho he’s gay— not ask him to have sex with him. The glass must have been a literal breaking point for his feeble self control.
“Because I trust you,” Jisung can’t even look Minho in the eye. “Because you’re attractive, and you’re always gentle with me, and I think you’d make it good.”
Minho’s hold tightens, squeezing Jisung a bit too firmly. “I’d make it good for you, Jisung.”
(OR: Jisung learns how to access the encyclopedia of his own emotions.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,315
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 149
- Kudos:
- 4,750
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Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
07 Jan 2024
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“Oh my god,” Jisung breathes. His thighs fall together on instinct. “Hyung. ‘S not gonna fit.” He feels a bit dizzy at the thought. The implication. That Minho is going to be inside of him— splitting him in two.
“It’ll fit, baby,” Minho steps forward, working his hand over himself a few times. “We’ll make it fit.”
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Jisung twists on the couch, eyes wide “we have the opportunity to do something hilarious, babe.”
Minho is sprawled beside him, and he sighs heavily before meeting Jisung’s eyes with a mischievous look. “You know my love language is causing problems. Go ahead.”
(or, the one where Minsung decide to lie about their relationship to their new gaming friends)
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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.”
—
Or: Jisung wins a private stream with his favourite camboy. He stresses out about it a normal amount.
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Felix had told him he’s lost it. That he’s asking for trouble, asking to die. Jisung doesn’t really care. He wants to fuck the monster that lives beneath the Denny’s. He’s going to fuck the monster that lives beneath the Denny’s.
(OR: Jisung gets himself pretty and delivers himself to tentacle monster Minho.)
Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
03 Oct 2023
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“ He’s oversensitive, crying, he’s never been so turned on, so desperate to be milked for all he’s worth, until he can’t walk, until his cock is dry, spent. ”
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There is a rumble in his chest, a start of a growl, upper lip twitching. His fingers curl tightly around Minho's wrist.
"Easy," Minho hums like it's nothing, "you don't wanna get fussy with me."
[or: Minho tilts the universe and reshapes everything Jisung has known his whole life.]
Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
17 Aug 2023
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"Okay?" Minho asks, voice a little strained and Jisung's heart does a silly little flip, safely hidden in his chest.
And— yeah. Jisung is okay. His instincts have stopped putting up a fight, stepping down and letting pleasure take over fully. Now, Jisung's warm, Minho's scent is all over him and he feels so, so full. So sated.
He smiles, all dazed and a little stupid.
"Oh, you pretty thing," Minho coos, kisses him slow and deep. "All this time you've been aching for a knot, haven't you?"
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“I can’t come again,” Jisung tries even though he knows it’s futile. Minho has that look in his eyes, the kind of look he gets when he’s hours deep into new choreography, the look he gets when they’re walking home from the convenience store and he sees a stray cat across the road, focused and alight.
Jisung’s probably not going to make it out of this alive and he can’t really bring himself to care.
Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
14 Aug 2023
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“ If, at some point, there was some scientific discovery that detailed how people, made from exploding stars millennia ago, could retain that same glow, that same luminescence, throughout the eons and ever evolving DNA, Jisung would not be surprised. Minho’s face often felt too bright, too piercing, to ever look at straight on.”
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When he sticks his hand in his coat pocket again, his fingers brush over the engraved handle of a knife that’s never been used, cold and sinister. He’d only needed a few drops of blood last time, when he’d wanted to call forth any fallen entity that wanted to show themselves to him, and had therefore only warranted a pin.
Summoning an entity by name, one as powerful as the one he seeks, requires a larger sacrifice.
(or: lonely witch jisung summons his favorite demon for a long-awaited reunion.)
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"Grief says, I hope summer is kinder because grief knows you deserve kindness."
Sorrow is a promise, Sanna WaniAt the end of August Jisung wishes he could close his eyes and open them to it being June again. Life doesn't work like that, but Minho reminds him that it will be June again one day.
At the beginning of June, Minho jumps Jisung's fence with beer in one hand and a cake in the other. And they meet for the first time, sort of.
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he texts me an eggplant, i text him a peanut by magicsoul (cherishiskisa) for taotu
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
24 Jun 2023
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“The last thing I need to worry about right now is you falling in love with me.”
“Ha!” Jisung says. He kicks a pebble, and it ricochets to land in Minha’s path. “Nah, don’t worry about that.”
“But I’m so lovable,” Minha says, kicking the pebble back and tilting her head—ugh—coquettishly. The only person she fake-flirts with is Jisung; where someone else might get confused by it, he knows better than to take her at face value. He knows how high her standards are. Also, she doesn’t real-flirt with anyone, what the fuck. “You sure?”
And here’s where Jisung ruins everything.
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Jisung blinks. Once. The pink darkens, chiffon blurring into raspberry, into a coruscating kaleidoscope of crimson until he looks how Minho feels. How he’s been feeling for five years.
“What?”
“You are,” Minho repeats because it’s hard to remember why he had spent so long stopping himself from saying these words when they’re at the bottom of the world, all by themselves. “You’re special. To me.”
Jisung lips part. “Oh,” he says faintly.
or: they're in Australia.
Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
16 Jul 2023
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Bookmarker's Notes
It’s close to what Minho imagine pure bliss must feel like—when he pushes into Jisung. When Jisung clenches around him, legs hitched up around his waist, squeezing him tight all over. When Jisung sobs, panting oh hyung, I can feel you, I can—you’re inside me—I can feel you inside me, hand pressed to his stomach, staring up at Minho with blurry eyes, mouth open, ragged gasps escaping him with every thrust.
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Jisung’s brain can’t process it. They’re in the middle of a convenience store—their convenience store, the one that sees enough idols to know exactly who they are, even if they weren’t being conspicuous—and Minho is kissing him.
Minho comes down with something after a fanmeet. Jisung does what he can to take care of him.
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“I’m not gay,” he breathed, when the clock blinked two in the morning and Jisung asked if he could kiss him. “I— I like girls. Women. You know that, right?”
Jisung pouted, and Minho almost wanted to rip out a page from his sketchpad right there and then. “That’s a shame. From how much you’ve drawn me, I thought you’d be a little attracted.”
He sunk against Minho’s side, exhausted, and Minho wondered if he’d always been this soft. Jisung’s brown hair fell over his tired eyes in a tempting curtain that made him itch to reach out and push back, because nothing could ever hide Jisung’s eyes from him, because he thought he’d drag Jisung’s eyelids apart while he slept if he knew it wouldn’t wake the boy. That boy sighed then, murmuring something about taking a nap, and he licked his full lips.
Just this once, Minho thought, when he grabbed the side of Jisung’s face and dragged him in. Just this once.
or, Minho forgets how to create, until he finds a muse in an anxious boy and the fire behind his eyes.
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Suddenly everything links together in Jisung’s brain—the elaborate ceremony, the adjoining chambers, the foreign crown atop his head. Fuck—are they married?
“Fuck,” Jisung swears. “Are we married?”
Minho cocks his head to the side, as if he’s not quite sure if it’s a joke or not. “Well,” he says, frowning, “obviously.”
Series
- Part 1 of ✨minsung royalty brainrot✨
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 22,718
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 76
- Kudos:
- 2,683
- Bookmarks:
- 601
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- 36,566
Bookmarked by ReadingCandle
14 Apr 2023
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Bookmarker's Notes
Minho doesn’t, continuing to abuse the same spot until Jisung snaps, shooting white over himself and making a mess. Yet Minho’s hand doesn’t stop, not even when he’s twitching and squirming from the sensation.
He whines in confusion, weakly trying to tug at his arm, but Minho shushes him again, imploring, “Be good.”
So Jisung tries his hardest to lay still, even as the sensation sends tears down his face. Eventually, the tender pain he feels crosses the border back into pleasure and he sinks into the mattress.
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How could someone this handsome guard anyone? Wouldn’t he be more of a distraction than a threat? Maybe that’s his secret weapon—maybe he uses his face to hypnotize people into leaving the person he's protecting alone. It sounds like the plot of an anime. There should be an anime like that out there; Jisung makes a note to search bodyguard anime when he’s home for the evening.
Jisung hires a human anti-anxiety pill.
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han isn't the type to depend on anyone. minho doesn't care.
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Jisung is busy, and he's content being busy. He doesn't have time to mess around. It's his senior year of college, he's glad to be making money where he can, producing music in his free time, and performing in the subway station near campus three times a week. But when flirty stranger drops his number in the tip jar, he can't help but be intrigued. And when what he swears to keep casual starts to feel like anything but, Jisung realizes maybe he can make time, especially for those important.
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"He’s, like, the sexiest man I’ve ever seen," Minho insists. “Seriously, I wanted to jump him the moment I saw him.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act like this before.”
“Please. You’ll understand when you meet him.”
When Minho drags his boyfriend to meet his friends during lunch, however, Chan decidedly does not understand.
The supposed sexiest man that Minho’d ever seen shows up in a bright red hoodie that looks much too big for him. His ripped jeans might have looked sexy, especially from how they clung to his legs, but his stance reminds Chan startlingly of those girls in the anime that Felix plays in the background. When he waves at the group, the hoodie accidentally gives him sweater paws, and Chan is idly aware of the matching red sneakers that barely give the boy any height.
“Hey,” he greets, clearly nervous. His hands instinctively reach over to play with his own fingers, and he almost looks innocent. “I-I’m Han Jisung."
or, five times their friends thought Minho and Jisung were the weirdest couple they'd ever seen.