Marvolo_R
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"You're tied to a chair."
"Loosely tied," Jisung corrects. "I could've gotten out eventually. Probably."
"Han," Minho says, "my guys are starting to think you're a training exercise."
Jisung laughs, genuine and bright. "Tell them I'm happy to keep providing realistic scenarios."
or: SWAT team leader minho keeps having to rescue reckless genius detective jisung from situations he shouldn't be in. so what if the line between professional responsibility and personal attachment keeps blurring?
Bookmarked by Marvolo_R
21 Jul 2026
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Jisung searches his face, genuinely lost.
“Hyung,” he says, softer now. “Why are you acting like this?”
Minho looks away.
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“Yes, you are. This isn’t like you at all. What’s going on?”
In which one poorly handled moment of jealousy forces Minho and Jisung to confront a side of their relationship they’ve never had to face before.
Bookmarked by Marvolo_R
21 Jul 2026
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He's at a table with his friends. They're sitting there and drinking and talking and Jisung's legs are spread, and his cock is hard, straining and twitching against his jeans where he had tucked it up and to the side to be less conspicuous. He can see it. It's right there. Under his eyes, it twitches. He rocks his hips. Nobody notices. He keeps going. Small, barely noticeable movements, but it's enough to make the toy slip in and out of himself. God. Fuck. He's fucking himself. He's looking at his own hard cock as he's fucking himself. In a bar. In front of everyone. A helpless whimper bubbles out of his throat. Not loud enough to be heard over the thumping of the music, but loud enough for Minho to hear, for his head to snap up.
OR
when jisung comes in his pants in front of all his friends - and likes it
Bookmarked by Marvolo_R
19 Jul 2026
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He flushes, red-hot. “I’m sorry, hyung,” he whimpers, pathetically, the throb of his pussy, the sheer magnitude of his desire muddling the guilt into something unrecognizable. Despite being almost entirely sober, his words slur. “I’m so sorry, hyungie, this is- ah, this is n-not the best p-position, let me get off—“
Once again, he tries to scramble off Minho’s lap. This time he even manages to lift his ass off Minho’s lap, but he doesn’t get further than that. Minho’s hands catch him before he can get away and pull him back, slamming Jisung back down onto his lap and this time, Jisung can’t hold it back.
He cries out, fingers scrambling against the wood.
Bookmarked by Marvolo_R
19 Jul 2026
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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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Bookmarked by Marvolo_R
12 Jul 2026