#minsung drabbles

[moansung]

Blocked but Blessed

Minsung twitter au(HEAVILYY inspired by a socmed au on twitter that I can’t find and I miss it.😭🥹)

Jisung meets up with a cute guy from twitter and thinks he gets stood up, until Minho shows up.

Soft Dom Minho, Eager Jisung, Blowjobs, brief crying, cum swallowing, and praise kink.

Jisung, assuming he just got stood up on his date with the cute boy he’s been flirting with on Twitter, sat down at a table, sobbing. Only to be patted on the back by the man who “stood him up”… 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!?" Jisung said with tears in his eyes, confused, mad, and kinda happy? This was followed by silence. "You came even after you blocked me…?” Jisung followed up, only for Minho to turn bright red. “Jisung-ah… I blocked you because… I posted something I didn’t want you to see..." He looked away biting his lip, then he showed him the tweet “I’m so scared to meet him but I’m hard asf”… god this was embarrassing for the both of them… Jisung wipes his tears and giggles at Minho. “What the fuck dude?" he says leaning in to hug him. “I feel embarrassed now… we should go to my car…” He looks away, knowing people were staring at him because he was just sobbing… he could practically scream… 

~later in Jisungs apartment bcs i'm way to lazy to write a car ride...~ 

“Hyung…” He  bites his lip. God, Minho was kissing Jisung's neck. “Pretty boy… M so sorry for scaring you…” Minho whispered on Jisung's skin, making the boy shake. “Hyung- m… please… m’ need it…” Jisung whined, palming at Minhos pants. “Mm… need it bad? Where do you need it Sungie?” Minho kissed Jisung’s lips. “M’ mouth.." he whispered into the kiss. "Say that again.." Minho said, pulling back. “Need chu n’ my mouf …” Jisung barely could get his whole word out before Minho was unbuckling his pants. “So bad?” He giggled.

"Mmm... get down on your knees baby…” Minho whispered, making the hair on Jisung’s neck stand up. Jisung quickly followed his orders and got on his knees in front of Minho. “Good boy..." Minho said as he petted Jisung's head. Jisung unexpectedly leaned into his hand and looked up at him “Eager, aren't we?” Minho teased, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down slightly, enough to drive Jisung crazy with his visible print in his boxers. Jisung looked up at Minho, then at the bulge in his pants… he kissed it and pouted, “mm… can I suck it now…?” This almost sent Minho over the edge... “god… yes.. of course you can..” he said, petting Jisung’s head again.

Jisung pulls Minho's cock out of his boxers, and kisses the tip like he’s done this many times… Minhos pupils widen as Jisung wraps his lips around Minhos's cock, “Good boy." Minho softly praises, watching as Jisung takes his cock in fully. After a few minutes of Jisung softly gagged, he got used to it. Minho was enjoying the new feeling, especially when Jisung’s tongue started to move more… “Sungie.. Fuck.. do that..." he said between moans. His hands gripped Jisung's hair, making the boy look up with teary eyes. God that almost sent Minho over the edge. He uses his free hand to hold onto the wall behind him. Trying his hardest not to thrust himself into the poor boy's mouth, failing pathetically, he’s slowly pushing himself deeper into Jisung's mouth, “nghh.. Sungie.. So good…” he moans, not expecting Jisung to take him deeper, tears running down his face. “Fuck-!” Minho manages to make a word come out before he starts whimpering, his legs shaking. “Gonna cum… Sungie I’m cumming-" he moans out before spilling his warm liquid into Jisung's mouth. Jisung pulls off Minho's cock with a pop “You can spit it here” Minho offers his hands, only to watch Jisung swallow it, "Sungie..." He wipes Jisung's tears, “so good… you did so good baby…” he says he's petting him. “Thanks… you taste good…” Jisung says giggling, making the older blush. “Should I get you off…?” Minho asked, not expecting Jisung to look away like he was embarrassed. “Sungie? You just sucked me off, why are you shy now…” he teases, only for Jiisung to softly speak, “I already got off…” Minho bites his lip, "Hm? When?” He teases the cute boy who’s still on his knees. “When I... uhm... sucked you off…” Jisung shyly admits. Minho stares at him, speechless, before finally murmuring, “You’re gonna kill me.”

->

OKAY THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING IN SO LONG IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD</333 OMG. If you like this reblogs are very appreciated

btw ill probly post this on wattpad and a03 bcs im desperate.

[solarfyn]

nailed it

♡ minsung

♡ rated gen, less than 1k words

♡ canon-comp fluff, nail painting, banter

also available on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63012613

“I need to make your nails cute for when we go out tomorrow. You agreed! You said I could.” Minho supposes he kind of did. Or at least, he was convinced. “I don’t need excess layers of chemicals on my nails,” he had said defensively. But then Jisung pulled out the giant watery eyes and the disappointed pout and what the fuck, Minho can’t believe it works every single time, without error.

“Stop twitching,” Jisung smacks his thigh. “It won’t come out pretty if I fuck it up.”

Minho grits his teeth, splaying his fingers wider. A wild streak of black nail polish hits his cuticle, and Jisung frowns.

“Hyung—I said stop moving.” Jisung sighs and reaches behind him for the nail polish remover. He dunks yet another cotton swab in the acetone, then rubs viciously at Minho’s finger, before tossing it into a small pile of already-stained swabs.

He’s so pretty, with his clipped-back hair and pouty little mouth. A couple of overgrown strands threaten to escape his cute hair clips (stolen from their stylist), and Minho has an urge to tuck the locks behind his ear.

Obviously, he’s going to act on that urge. He’s nothing if not impulsive.

Minho reaches out with his unpainted hand, curling Jisung’s long hair behind his ear. The natural black is starting to sprout from his roots, soft and undamaged, courtesy of the longer break. Here, Jisung is softer, more genuine. He hasn’t worn makeup in a week, his skin clean. Minho runs his thumb on the shell of Jisung’s ear, watching as it turns slightly pink.

Jisung leans instinctively into his touch for a split second before righting himself suddenly.

“No touching,” he says seriously. “Or I’ll have to—tape your hands to the table, or something.”

Minho blinks. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jisung flushes. “Stop,” he whines, stretching the word out. “I need to make your nails cute for when we go out tomorrow. You agreed! You said I could.”

Minho supposes he kind of did. Or at least, he was convinced. 

“I don’t need excess layers of chemicals on my nails,” he had said defensively. But then Jisung pulled out the giant watery eyes and the disappointed pout and what the fuck, Minho can’t believe it works every single time, without error.

Jisung had been so excited about it, even showed him a folder of nail inspo on his phone. They were all pretty cool, rockstar-esque designs, featuring stars and dark colors. Grungy. Very Jisung. He scrolled all the way to the bottom and clicked on a black design with white bunny faces to show to Minho.

“It’s you!” he said, cradling the phone in his hands, his own painted nails glittering with black and red hearts.

“It’s me,” Minho had agreed. 

So here he is, letting his cute boyfriend paint his nails the evening before Valentine’s day.

“It looks nice,” Minho says, trying to see around Jisung’s head. He’s not actually sure if it does, but he trusts Jisung (who’s neck is currently bent at nearly a ninety-degree angle, face dangerously close to a set of wet nails). “How many fumes are you breathing in today?”

“So many fumes,” Jisung says without looking up. “But it’s worth it, because you’re gonna have the best nails. Everyone’s gonna be jealous of us when we pick up our takeout.”

Minho hums, then breathes out of his nose, fighting the urge to squirm. “When can we take a break?”

Jisung grunts. “Not yet. I need to wait until this layer dries.”

“Why didn’t we just do gel? It’s faster.”

Jisung’s head snaps up, eyebrows scrunched together. “Who taught you about gel nails?”

“You like them. I researched.” The few times Jisung got his nails professionally done, he always made sure to shove his hands in Minho’s face and loudly proclaim that they’re gel. Minho got curious about how the process was different from regular polish, so he spent two hours learning about both types. He cares about his boyfriend’s interests. Sue him.

Jisung blinks about thirty times in a few seconds. “I love you.”

Minho smiles. “I love you too.” He wiggles his fingers, praying they’re not cramping with the position they’ve had to be in for the last ten minutes. “Break time?”

“Fine,” Jisung stresses. “But you have to promise that you’re gonna come back. We have to put the bunnies on.”

“What about just one bunny? It’ll still be cute.”

“All of them,” Jisung says, his eyes squinted. “We have to do all of them. My self-control is being tested today, and I still want to win.”

“You always win in my heart.”

“I know. Which is why I’m allowing you one make out session.”

Minho’s hands twitch forward—

“No—hands to yourself. Bad cat.”

Minho wrinkles his nose. “This is stupid. Your nail polish hates love.”

“Hyung, they have to dry. You have to listen to me.”

“What am I gonna do? I have to sit here, a beautiful boy hopefully perched on my lap within the next five seconds, and I can’t even grab his waist? Should I just die?” Minho slouches against the couch.

Jisung rolls his eyes, and clambers over the table to seat himself on Minho’s spread thighs. His knees press against Minho’s hips, arms settled on either side of Minho’s neck. 

“Just sit still, okay?” Jisung’s head tilts to the side, hair flopping everywhere. Then, he leans in and kisses Minho oh-so-softly.

“This better give me the strength I need to get through the rest of the nails,” Minho says, all muffled against Jisung’s mouth.

Jisung smiles, close-lipped, making his cheeks look all round and squishy. “You’re so dramatic. Of course it will.”

Then, he leans in again.

[secretlyseungminbiased]

JiSung’s hand traced softly along the side of his bed. He was struggling to keep his tears at bay. His head was pounding. His ears were ringing.

“Please no. Please not now,” he mumbled, letting his fingers trace over the screws holding his bed frame together, “breathe. Count to ten. Feel things in your hand…”

It was no use. The panic attack was coming whether he wanted it to or not.

To JiSung this was the worst kind. He wasn’t freaking out. The world wasn’t collapsing around him. It was squeezing him. He felt as if the whole world was pressing against his lungs. He couldn’t think straight. The world was blurring around him. All he could feel was the tightness in his chest.

JiSung tried hard to stay focused on the feeling of his fingers running over his bed frame. On the way his fluffy blanket felt against his skin. On the way he could faintly hear the younger boys playing games in the living room. But honestly all he could feel was the overwhelming need to shut down.

“Han-ah.” The only voice that had meaning to him right now. The one who always managed to save him.

MinHo let the door to JiSung’s room fall shut behind him as he made his way to the boy laying on the bed. He could tell from the way the younger’s hands were shaking and his position that the blonde haired boy was having a panic attack.

“Baby come here,” he whispered, kicking off his shoes and crawling under the covers next to his boyfriend, “it’s okay. I’m here for you.”

JiSung was instantly scooting into the arms of the older, his tears finally starting to fall.

“I- I thought you were working,” JiSung sobbed, hands shaking as he held onto his boyfriend.

“Han-ah you know I’d never leave you alone when you’re like this.”

“But the choreography-“

“Isn’t as important as you,” MinHo cut the younger off, beginning to gently run his fingers through the younger’s hair.

JiSung softly purred, snuggling further into MinHo’s chest. He could feel the younger finally starting to relax and stop shaking.

“Sing please.” MinHo smiled, starting to quietly sing the words to Sunshine.

He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that their manager, and Chan for that matter, wouldn’t be happy to hear that he’d blown off HyunJin and Felix and their dance practice to stay at home and yet he didn’t seem to care. As he listening to JiSung’s sniffles slowly stop and his breathing even out he knew nothing mattered to him more than the boy in his arms. Right now JiSung needed him. The whole world could wait.

[leeminlikesdaises]

I have a little minsung thingy written down but like

it's not sexual, self-insert, or heavy topics. Would that be okay to post? Just because of their little date that just went on with the museum :)

[solarfyn]

return of the arctic fox warrior

minsung

teen & up

900 words

bluesung, canon-comp, crack treated seriously

also available on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61640170

“Oh shit.” Jisung hasn’t had colored hair for years. Last time had been what—when he was freshly eighteen? God, he hasn’t had to think about this for ages! It completely slipped his mind and he’s fucked up, majorly. He looks down in horror at the white towel. Well, previously white towel. It’s got a huge, dark blue stain in the middle of it now, roughly the size of his head.

“Oh shit.”

Jisung hasn’t had colored hair for years. Last time had been what—when he was freshly eighteen? God, he hasn’t had to think about this for ages! It completely slipped his mind and he’s fucked up, majorly.

He looks down in horror at the white towel. Well, previously white towel. It’s got a huge, dark blue stain in the middle of it now, roughly the size of his head.

He can’t believe he forgot about being a teenager and complaining every time he had to dry his dyed hair with a dark t-shirt rather than a soft towel—or when Hyunjin had his long red hair during the summer. He had underestimated how hot it was, sweated in his sleep, and found himself in a bed that looked like a murder scene.

Using a white towel with wet, bright blue hair is a rookie’s mistake. 

“Fuck,” he hisses as rushes to pump at least half a bottle of soap onto the towel. It’s not too late—he can still save it! If this doesn’t work, they still have some stain removers or something—

Jisung scrubs and scrubs and scrubs all while he’s butt-naked in the bathroom, his hair still dripping blue onto the floor.

No luck. There’s still a horrendous blue spot. And—oh man—does it look bigger now? Did he fuck up even more somehow?

Jisung heaves for breath—scrubbing takes a lot of energy. Then he wails as quietly as he can. Those towels were expensive! And he picked them out with Minho—they were custom-made with embroidered cat paws in the corner of each one.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Jagi? Are you okay?”

Jisung’s eyes go wide. He clears his throat, then scrambles to lock the door.

“Fine! I’m fine!”

The handle jiggles. Jisung can see Minho’s shadow peeking out from the crack underneath the door.

“Hey, why’d you lock the door?”

Jisung panics. “I’m jerking off!”

There are several benefits to being Han Jisung. For one, lyrics flow out of his mouth like it’s nothing—his brain moves quickly and his mouth moves quicker. Which can often lead to drawbacks like these. Sometimes Jisung says the first thing that pops into his head. And he gets himself into situations.

Minho’s shadow starts shifting from side to side. “Oh, let me in! I wanna see.”

“You can’t—because—it’s really unsexy. I’m trying a new—technique?”

“I can help.”

Unfortunately, Jisung’s stomach swoops a little.

No, he has to stay focused!

“Fine—I’m not jerking off!”

MInho’s shadow stops moving. Jisung’s sure that if he was to open the door right this second, he’d be met with Minho, his arms folded and wearing a disappointed pout.

Jisung side-eyes his towel, now wet and soapy, drooping sadly over the edge of the sink. “If I let you in, you have to promise not to get mad, okay?”

“Did you kill someone? Do I have to hide a body?”

“What is wrong with you—why’s that your first thought?” Jisung sputters.

“I support everything you do, jagi. Now did you kill someone?”

“No! You still have to promise you won’t be mad, though.”

“Okay, I won’t be mad. Let me in.”

“I’m naked!”

A pause. “Jisung, I just saw you like an hour ago. Naked. In the bed.”

Fuck. Minho’s got a point there. 

“Okay, just—close your eyes. It’s bad.” Jisung unlocks the door gingerly, then opens it. 

Minho shuffles forward, one hand over his eyes, and the other waving around wildly in front of him. He slaps Jisung’s chest a couple times to make sure he’s there, giving one of his pecs a hearty squeeze.

Underneath his hand, Minho grins.

“Can I open my eyes?”

Jisung bites his lip. “Okay, yeah.”

Minho drops the hand from his eyes, then looks around, frowning. “I don’t see—” he starts before his gaze drops on the towel in the sink. 

Minho’s eyes flick towards Jisung and his dripping hair, then towards the sink, then at the floor where there are droplets of blue following Jisung around.

Then, he starts giggling.

“Wait—this is what you did? Jisung, I thought you broke the mirror or something.”

“I ruined our towel!” Jisung wails. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just—I forgot my hair was dyed, and it’s been years since I last got it colored, and so I wasn’t—”

Minho grabs him by the chin and smacks a kiss on his lips.

“You’re so cute.”

“The towel—”

“We can replace that, it’s fine. We can replace anything you stain. My little blueberry.” Minho bites him on the cheek, then on the neck. “Hey, but while you’re naked—”

Jisung groans. “I’m not showering again, you monster.”

“What about shower sex?” Minho says, all giddy. He’s starting to nip at Jisung’s collarbones like the freak he is. “You don’t even have to do anything. And hey, now that you’ve stained one towel, you can just keep using it! Look at that, a win-win.”

Jisung is so lucky that Minho’s a logical person. He’s making so much sense.

“Yeah, okay. Shower sex.”

Minho whispers a little fuck yeah into Jisung’s neck, then promptly lifts him up to deposit him back in the shower.