tomieimot
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“Sto—”
A damp palm clapped over Jisung’s mouth before he could finish speaking, snuffing his voice out mid-syllable. The unrestrained force shoved his lips back against his blunt front teeth, sending a sharp jolt of pain searing through his nervous system. Sticky, metallic warmth bloomed across Jisung’s tongue—faintly sweet, just as sacred as it had been at his first communion.
“Shh, ‘s okay,” the stranger—no, Minho—whispered into the shell of Jisung’s ear, his breath warm against the sensitive cartilage. Minho shifted his weight, using his muscular build to hold Jisung still as he explained in a soft, coaxing tone, “just making you feel good, yeah? I’m not gonna hurt you, Sungie.”
Or, Jisung’s weirdly distant roommate invites him for drinks.
Bookmarked by tomieimot
29 Jun 2026
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“I want you,” he says, voice certain. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you.”
Minho’s lips tremble, and his voice comes out wobbly.
“You’ll never be free of me.”
“That’s okay, hyung-ah,” Jisung breathes, voice steady. “I don’t want to be.”
OR: Minho is a vampire, Jisung isn't. He turns him.
Bookmarked by tomieimot
23 May 2026
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When Minho breaks into Jisung’s apartment, Jisung is certain he’s about to become the victim of something he won’t escape. But nothing about Minho’s presence feels accidental and nothing about Jisung’s fear feels entirely real either. As tension builds between locked doors, the line between intrusion and invitation begins to blur.
Or:
what looks like a break-in was never a break-in at all.
Bookmarked by tomieimot
22 May 2026
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Jisung is still shaking off the drowsiness clouding his mind when Minho comes back home, which is weird. It's around midday, Minho usually doesn't come home till later. Maybe something happened?
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Jisung mistakes the man who's just walked into his home for his boyfriend and pays the price for it.
Bookmarked by tomieimot
29 Apr 2026
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“Maybe you need a personal destress toy.”
A startled laugh comes out of Chan’s mouth before he can stop it. “What do you even mean?” he asks, ears heating up at the mortifying prospect that Hyunjin is going to say something about a fleshlight. Or worse. Chan’s mind runs rampant in an instant, wondering if it’ll be more embarrassing to lie and have Hyunjin see right through him immediately.
But Hyunjin just shrugs. “What? I have one.” Chan’s brow furrows, and he sips at the bottom of his drink — tries not to make a sucked-lemon face — just to have an excuse not to respond. Is Hyunjin really going to talk about his sex toys right now?
He doesn’t. Instead, he leans into Chan’s space. One elbow on the table and the other hand in his own lap, somehow dangerously close to Chan’s spread thighs. Hyunjin absently plucks the little umbrella out of an empty glass on the table and twirls it between his pretty fingers. “I suppose I could just share mine, right?” he says, somehow hushed in the loud club, like he’s sharing a secret.
“Jisung, I mean.”
Hyunjin offers to help Chan destress.
Bookmarked by tomieimot
30 Mar 2026