littlestspoon
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A part of her feels dangerous: femme fatale out on the prowl, men dropping like flies around her. Another quieter part of her feels foolish: little girl playing dress up in her mother's fancy clothes. She's never done anything this bold before.
"Doesn't it get you wet, baby? Thinking about your boyfriend coming to look for you only to find my tongue buried in your pussy?"
[Jisu's date is a disaster. Minhee swoops in and saves the day.]
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Jisung's no longer the person he was when he first walked into that basement. Or, more accurately, he's exactly who he was then, but there's a part of him that exists that didn't before. A part that sees the world in a whole new light. A seedling that hadn't bloomed until Minho commanded it so. Yes, he was terrified down there. But he now knows this: that he had room to feel scared at all was just another courtesy Minho extended him.
[Jisung wants to be held captive. Minho obliges. But Jisung may have bitten off more than he can chew.]
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Jisu cooked and cleaned and fed the chickens. She pruned the flowers and taught the small children. She spread her legs for The Father and took her punishments without complaint. She never thought about what lay beyond the fences.
Until Minho.
[Jisu has never met a woman like Minho before.]
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Jisung wants to fit his mouth against the edge of Minho's jaw. Wants to bite down and feel the crunch of it. He's never been this aware of Minho's body before. The heat and heft of him. He smells like smoke and leather. Like the dangerous thing Jisung knows he's going to one day become.
[Minho collects strays. Jisung would know. After all, he was the first.]
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They hadn’t talked at length about the future. Jisung thought they were forever, though, the kind of bone-deep, unfaltering devotion that you would put a match to everything you had for, that turned half-smiles into love songs and drove you a little mad. The kind that could break your heart.
They were forever, Jisung used to think.
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Bookmarked by littlestspoon
30 Jul 2022
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Bookmarker's Notes
he does get it. curiously detached from the hollowness in his chest, jisung understands. he’s the one walking around with someone else’s name on his body, after all. jisung gets it, but it doesn’t make it hurt less.
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they hadn’t talked at length about the future. jisung thought they were forever, though, the kind of bone-deep, unfaltering devotion that you would put a match to everything you had for, that turned half-smiles into love songs and drove you a little mad. the kind that could break your heart.
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“Are you going to throw a fit again?” Minho asks warily, voice barely above a murmur.
Jisung gives him a wide-eyed look of innocence, and Minho responds with an equally fake sigh. He knows he’ll have an obsessively needy, whiny Jisung on his hands, as if Minho should feel guilty for letting his own boyfriend touch him. Minho will mock Jisung for it and pretend to be annoyed, because these are the rules of this little game of theirs.
It’s not as fun if one of them is so in love he’s choking on it, sweating it out of his pores and wrestling back the words with every breath, and the other just likes to get his dick wet where he shouldn’t.
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Bookmarked by littlestspoon
30 Jul 2022
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"i'm in love with him," minho says, & the words ease out of him like a sigh. he’s ashamed of everything else, of himself, of what he’s done, but not this. never this.
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The whistle from behind him is weak. Minho shouldn't dignify it with a response, but he can't help himself. He looks over his shoulder to see Jisung, propped up on the pillows, one arm behind his head and the comforter down around his hips. Lazy, cocky, eyelids sleep-heavy, posed like some kind of underwear ad. "Nice view," he says, lingering on Minho's ass.
Bookmarked by littlestspoon
13 Mar 2026
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It's hard to leave him when he looks like that. Easy to come home again.
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Jisung shifts, tugging Minho’s hoodie up higher, nose buried in the collar. His eyes are closed, but Minho can see his ears twitch at his words. “Look at you, mmh? My little omega’s been busy nesting.”
Usually, that would spark a huff, maybe an annoyed snap about being an alpha too. But instead, Jisung preens. His lashes flutter, his cheeks flush, and then it happens: a soft, high chirp slips out of him, as if it’s instinctive, almost subconscious.
Minho goes still.
OR: Jisung and Minho are both alphas— Jisung gets bitched.
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salt & shelter (call me home) by neme_sis for AstrayInSound, skybluefics
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
17 Aug 2025
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Jisung aches for that smile.
He dreams of it—wonders what it might feel like, to be seen, to be wanted, to be ruined by a mouth never made for killing, yet still leaving wreckage in its wake.
He could lure him.
He knows how.
Just a breath of a melody, and the man would fall—eyes glazed, chest heaving with salt, arms reaching for the phantom beneath the waves.But Jisung does not sing.
He lingers beneath the skin of the sea, silent, starving.
Because the sea devours all things.
But him—his voice, his living breath, the curl of his smile—
Jisung would follow them to the edge of the world.Bookmarked by littlestspoon
28 Aug 2025
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That’s when he knows: this is what he bargained for. Not just a body, but the quiet, golden gravity of Minho’s presence—the tether that draws him closer, again and again. The witch’s bargain pulses sharp in his chest now, a quiet ache that will not let him forget what he stands to lose.
He cannot imagine letting this go. Not now, not when Minho is no longer a longing, but something real—warm and near, more vital than breath.
And Jisung cannot fathom how he will ever stop wanting him.