: I Am So Glad Minsung Is Becoming A Thing (hopefully) - Tumblr Posts

Mica it's insane how everything you write turns out to be gold.

The Guy Next Door | hhj

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐦𝐚𝐧.❞

↳ Interim chapter ½ of The Guy Next Door: should be read after chapter 6. Interims are optional therefore not crucial to the main storyline but do provide extra context and background on side characters, their arcs and sub-plots.

↳ Minho x Jisung focused, other characters included/referenced 

↳ 8.3k

! Strong language, mxm, film student Jisung, porn star Minho, angst and tension, background/history on Jisung, explicit sexual content, pining, alcohol consumption, frequent reference to pornography, filming, voyeurism and exhibitionism, a shared pornography experience, so much soft praise and validation, wet and messy making out, anal sex, Jisung just worships Minho and it’s so endearing, mild dacryphilia, dirty talk, the start of something dangerously beautiful, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© January 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Jisung loves sex.

The sight of it, the smells of it, the meaning of it (or lack of). How it may be used as an artful representation of humanity or conversely to evidence the sheer deprivation of the race; everything about sex appeals to Jisung and so will never escape his clutches.

Save for one thing most bafflingly; the actual having of it.

Scenarios where that would have been possible have done well to elude him for the duration of his young adult life, and when Jisung thinks back on the hormonally driven hellscape that was high school, he supposes that’s probably to blame.

Jisung’s sexuality was no secret or hard-to-swallow pill. He knew, from an earlier age than most, that his attraction to both sexes wasn’t something he could combat, and neither was his personality something he could alter.

Jisung was built to operate at intense, wired to act and speak and exist at a pace beyond most people’s comprehension or level of tolerance. Life ran fast for him, as did his brain, and growing up it was never treated as a problem. Jisung’s adoptive mother—his favourite person before God gave him the tripod—was a believer in positive reinforcement, accepted him for who he was and catered to Jisung’s eccentric whims at a level perhaps thought extreme by any other parent, but it worked for her, for them, and that surely had to be all that mattered. The love of Jisung’s mother was unwavering enough that he oftentimes forgot he was a product of someone else, even aspired to follow in her high-heeled footsteps and become a lawyer before other interests claimed him.

It was only in stepping into high school that his small, rose-coloured world was blown open, and he quickly came to learn getting too physically close to his peers made him ‘the freak that doesn’t respect personal space’, that sharing facts he’d learned from the Nat Geo documentary he watched the night before made him ‘that rude asshole that always interrupts’, that dressing in the bright colours he liked made him ‘the attention seeking bi’.

Still; Jisung was never one to take it to heart. His mother would tell him he was surrounded by bubble wrap; could withstand the knocks and bumps with unexpected resilience while staying warm at his core. He supposed she was probably right, if only because the alternative was simply too dire to consider should he ever let it all get to him.

And as high school life ticked by and Jisung became slowly accustomed to the idea of never really having friends, of never getting to date, of trying to be okay with being perpetually misunderstood, something inexplicable happened.

Sophie happened.

Jisung met Sophie during art class, their mutual admiration of each other’s mindless doodles forming the beginning of a friendship. She was accepting of his sexuality and everything else about him, encouraging him to be himself and to pay no mind to the cruelty of other kids; they just didn’t get him, she said. Not like she did. Sophie understood him, Jisung thought, and so they spent a lot of time in each other’s company, in each other’s bedrooms, whereby the friendship naturally transformed to something not nearly as platonic. Jisung fully believed this was his good luck finally coming through; his big high school break, the one he always hoped would come. So content was he with the relationship that he found no reason to question Sophie’s apparent reluctance to take the next step of intimacy; Jisung supposed it would come when the time was right, that he could get by until then.

Things were going well, he thought, one thing leading to another in the manner one would expect; until it didn’t.

When Jisung discovered Sophie was cheating on him, it was by accident. He’d trained himself to tune out locker room talk—such concentrated levels of testosterone in one place gave him cystic acne breakouts—yet it was the use of a single word that piqued his attentions that afternoon.

‘Slut’.

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