#lee minho x y/n

[booksndpoetry]

The Gratitude Series

A Lee Minho Fanfic

Prequel to "A Modern Love Story"

WC : 2.8k words

Pairing : Lee Minho X Fem reader

Genre : Fluff

Triggers/Warnings : Repetitions of two particular words and mentions of brownies; read at your own risk of temptation

A/N : This was inspired by my own conversations with my friends when they told me to stop thanking them. I hope each of you who reads this, gets someone who'll thank you from the bottom of their heart.

m.list

“Some days I adore you a little more than a human being can adore” – Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

To Lee Minho, you were an enigma of sorts. You were like a ball of yarn, threaded with your secrets. And he was the cat, ever curious. Each thread that unravelled, satiated his curiosity, until he wanted more. Until he knew it was never going to be enough. It was more of a depraved hunger than anything, but you didn’t have to know that. 

i. 

Minho had always considered his part-time job as a barista at the local café just as a way to spend his time wisely and earn some money. He did not expect the best people to be the customers, nor did he think the café was particularly interesting. It just…..was.

But that was his opinion before you came into the café. 

The first time he’d seen you, you had ordered a milkshake and sat down at one of the tables, book in hand, the nearly empty café a reflection of your quiet, poised state.

When he’d come to serve your milkshake, you’d stopped reading your book, the original volume of Howl’s Moving Castle he’d observed, as he approached you.

You read his name off his name tag, gifted him, a complete stranger back then, a dazzling smile and said “Thank you.” with the calmest voice he’d ever heard. 

He had been surprised. Not because you’d thanked him, more so because you stopped what you were doing just to acknowledge him and thank him, face to face. 

He hadn’t known what to do. Receiving thanks or compliments had always been awkward for him.

 And so he gave away his embarrassment with the tips of his ears glowing red, muttering something incoherent in reply, and your smile had become a little bit wider. 

Just a little bit, but he’d noticed it. 

That is how he remembers his first encounter with you, with him completely flustered by you and your bright smile. 

ii. 

After you had left the café that day, he had come in extra early to work every day, in hopes of catching you if you were an early riser. But to no avail. 

After two days, he thought himself stupid. He barely knew you. And you would’ve probably forgotten his name, he reasoned with himself. 

Still, his nights were filled with thoughts of you. He thought long and hard about you. 

Did you thank everyone that way? Or was it just him you thanked that way?

He had hoped, foolish as it was, that it was the latter. 

Had you found him attractive and hence given him your attention?

The question wasn’t entirely baseless. Lots of people frequented the café just to flirt with him. But he knew that it wasn’t the case, he would have remembered you if you’d come there before.

Would you come back again? Would he see you again? 

And so, he’d tossed and turned. He couldn’t get his mind off you.  

The two days turned into four weeks and the study group he was in at University, had set up a meeting at the music club. 

When he’d asked Chan, the person who had organized everything, why they hadn’t set up the meeting in the University’s large library, the latter had unashamedly said that the library wouldn’t allow food in and hence the spot was selected. 

Even on the walk to the meeting, Minho rolls his eyes. 

The library would have been much quieter. With no rules to maintain silence, he had no idea how to protect his ears from his group of extremely loud friends.  

He arrives minutes before the meeting. The tiny room was packed and he was already assessing the number of decibels emitted from the inside. 

Taking a breath, he pushes the door open and walks inside. The entire study group had assembled for the first time, and there were a lot more people than he’d expected. 

As soon as he sits down, Chan who had been chatting with someone next to him, turns and greets Minho. Minho nods in acknowledgement, looking away and that’s when he sees you for the second time. 

You sit in a corner of the room, nose deep in a book, just like the first time he’d met you.

Today, you’re decked up in a long winter coat, and a lemon-coloured scarf wrapped around your neck.

Just like the first time, you’re smiling as you read your book.

Just like the first time, you manage to take his breath away.

And just like the first time, he doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to do. 

Despite that, he knows that he might not have a chance to see you again and thus, musters up all his courage and approaches you, which is exactly when Felix decides to announce that he brought brownies for everyone. Minho has to clamp his mouth shut to stop a groan from escaping him. 

Great, he thinks, now he would never ever have a chance with you again and he would die an old cat gentleman.

Even in his head, he thinks it sounds ridiculous. He reminds himself not to hang out too much around Hyunjin. The dramatics were rubbing off on him. 

Shaking his head, he goes back to retake his seat when he notices Felix distributing scrumptious looking brownies (that he knew were delectable) to the large group of people, by himself.

He also notices another box, and maybe it is because he’s gotten so used to serving people, he takes the box up and starts distributing brownies to the other table.

Felix offers him a cheery thanks and Minho just waves him off. 

When he gets to your table, Minho holds his breath. He expects you to have forgotten him, but you lift your head and say,

 “Hey, Minho right? We meet again.” 

and all the practice he’s given himself goes down the drain. Clearing his throat, he pretends he isn’t affected by the fact that you remember his name, and extends a brownie towards you. You look at his outstretched hand and take the brownie, and just as he’d predicted, you look up at him, still smiling, and gift him a:

“Thank you.”

 He’s just as bothered, with the base of his neck going red at the words. However, in a burst of courage, he’s taking a chance with you just to lengthen the conversation. 

“I’m not the one who made them, Felix did.”, he informs you and you tilt your head slightly. 

“I know, I’ll thank him later.”, you reply, “I’m thanking you now.” 

“Why?” he asks. He doesn’t know, why you did it. He wanted to know. 

“Because”, you say, your words slow and deliberate, like you had all the time in the world,

“you could have let him distribute them to everyone, all the thirty five students, all by himself. It wouldn’t have been a big deal. But you chose to help him and give some of us a brownie, when you could’ve eaten yours first. So, thank you.” 

He’s stunned. Both by the sincerity of your words and the honesty you delivered them with. 

For a moment he stands there, absorbing your words. Before he can respond, one of them asks if they can have one more cupcake and he gets to his senses. You smile and wave him off. 

The second time too, he thinks, was just as delightful as the first. 

Maybe Chan chose the right spot after all. 

iii. 

Slowly, Minho eases his way into your life until you’re both latched together, like two sides of the same coin. He makes you milkshakes even when he’s not in the café and you smile and thank him for it, every time. 

He’s grown used to your words of gratitude, but he knows that you don’t throw the words around lightly. So, he makes space in his heart for all your thank yous, and slowly learns how to respond to them too. 

He wonders whether it is because you two aren’t close yet, that perhaps you feel the need to thank him for every little thing. He shrugs it off, feeling like you might stop your adorable habit once you fully get to know him. 

But mostly, he wants you to stop looking at him and smiling at him like he’s the candle burning on your desk at dawn, the only source of light when you need it. Because, he feels like it might never be enough when he falls for you. 

It was so easy to fall in love with you, your entire existence a balm to his soul effortlessly. 

He thinks about it then, when he jogs to get you your water bottle from your bag, placed at the very end of the basketball court you were running in to get your daily laps in. 

Just as he’d predicted, you tell him: 

“Thank you.” 

His chest feels too tight, like he’s been running for an hour, when he’s only been jogging for twenty minutes. 

He wants you to stop. 

He wants you to tell him those words for the rest of his life. 

Minho feels like collapsing in the middle of the basketball court, to hit his head hard enough. Just so he can stop this heady feeling from consuming him whole. 

iv. 

Minho feels himself flying in love with you. Why? Because he sees you are already in love with him too. 

It’s unmistakably your eyes search for him whenever he comes into a room.

It’s in how you always try to say yes to all his plans even though he tells you it’s okay if you feel otherwise.

It’s in the way you smile at him, something only for him to see.

But mostly, he knows it because of your eyes. Your eyes light up at his arrival, and they are transparent pools of your love for him, as clear as daylight.

And that, he learns, makes all the difference. 

v. 

Before you, Minho had a hard time trusting words. 

Why?

Because they were grand and promising at first, but empty if they weren’t followed by true actions. 

Most of the people early in his life only talked and talked, empty words with thoughts of what could’ve been, except they never were. 

But with you, Minho knew they were true to their meaning.

 He’d seen you bear the weight of them when you stayed behind for two hours in class to help a failing classmate.

He’d seen you fulfil them when you stayed up for hours writing something for the highest grade you had ever gotten, even if it was for extra credit.

He sees you stay true to them when you call your mom every single day like you’d promised, and when you call him without fail each time you go to the department store to ask him if he wants something. 

All he sees is you. 

You were an exception to his every agenda, every single time. 

He has no complaints. 

vi. 

One week before the finals, you're holed up in your room, ignoring all his calls, and Minho knows what's up. 

Your Psychology exams are what’s up. 

He drops by to your place and lets himself in, shoes placed in your shoe stand, just the way you do it. Going in, he gives a shout to let you know of his arrival. You holler something back & he takes it that you know.

Wandering to the kitchen, he spots a fruit bowl. Thinking that you could use a snack after all the studying you've done, he takes a few oranges from it and heads to your room. 

The sight of you hunched over your desk, buried in your books, your glasses barely hanging off your nose is what greets him.

 For a moment, all of it ceases to exist except him and his thoughts and you.

 He'd read all about the pinings of writers and poets who'd sworn that their lovers and muses were capable of taking their breath away at any time, even when they might look unflattering to the rest of the world.

 Minho had disagreed. One had to look unpresentable when they were buried in work and gave no thought about maintaining their appearance, right? 

 Wrong.

 He's rendered wrong. 

So, so, wrong. 

Because the sight of you then, bare-faced and bespectacled, puckered lips and furrowed eyebrows elicits an emotion he doesn't know how to name.

It's strong, this little feeling and every time you purse your lips or scrunch your nose, it grows stronger. He doesn't know what to do with the stubborn feeling, but he knows it's there to stay.

You were so engrossed in your reading that it took you a good three minutes to find out Minho was in the room.

After you do though, you abandon your textbook on the study desk and turn your attention to Minho. 

“Oh hey. Need something?” 

He chuckles, running a hand through his silky, wine-red strands as he takes you in fully, eyes subtle but greedy in their perusal of you.

 “I should be the one asking you that, you being buried in work and all.”

He gestures to your growing pile of papers, notes, and books. 

You let a whine in response.

“Don’t remind me of that. I’m taking a break. Seriously, I don’t get why I need to know the names of all the medical records used in the world. How am I supposed to treat other people, when I myself am slowly going insane?” 

You punctuate your rambling by sinking further into your chair until it shakes. 

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. But he does know how to make you feel better, that’s one thing he prides himself in. 

Coming to stand in front of you, he slowly reveals the arm behind his back and flourishes the oranges he’s fetched, like a magician exhibiting a miracle. 

You’re a magician of your own, giving away one of your dizzying smiles that he can see in his head for days on end. 

He slowly sits down on the floor, and starts peeling an orange. You join him and reach for one, but he swats your hand away. You frown, but abandon all thoughts of oranges when you remember your assignment, still very much unfinished. 

You abruptly get up, startling Minho out of his trance. He flinches before glaring at you. You cheekily smile down at him. 

“Sorry Min, I have to get this done before nightfall.” 

“Okay.” He says, even as gets up to shove a piece of fruit in your mouth. 

“Mo, yw don undastan-“ 

“Don’t talk while you’re eating.”

You glare at him, but do as he says.  

Even in your disgruntled state, you manage a quiet “Thank you.” 

You know how Minho left the comfort of his home just to come to cheer you up, even when he’s a homebody. And you’re grateful for it; you would’ve holed up in your room until you disintegrated into bits otherwise. 

He just shakes his head. 

Silence prevails in the room for a while, unless interrupted by the clicks of the keyboard and the quiet chewing as he feeds you slices. 

“You don’t have to say thank you to me all the time, y’know?” Minho begins, leaning beside you on your mahogany desk. 

You absently hum and finish typing the sentence. Only then do you fully process his words. 

“Huh?”

“We’re friends now, or at least I think we are. So, you don’t have to thank me for every little thing. It feels like you’re being formal with me.” 

This is the longest you’ve spoken with me, and it’s because of my thank yous. Isn’t that reason enough for me to tell you those words every time? 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down. They weren’t for now, this moment. 

You just exhale and give his head a ruffle. He dodges it, and glares at you, reminding you of his cats.

Your mouth curves upwards. 

“What are the words ‘Thank you’ for then?

I don’t think they exist just for a half-hearted appreciation for someone I barely know.

I think they exist so I can try and convey my gratitude to the people close to me. I won’t ever be able to fully convey the feelings in words, but I can try.

So think of each of my thank yous as a two-word love letter sealed with joy for being in my life.

Is that better?” 

You duck your head down, shy after your sudden outburst of emotion.

I won’t ever be able to convey my gratitude fully, but I can try. 

A two-word love letter sealed with joy for being in my life. 

Good god, he believes you’re an angel at that instant.

You were ethereal in every way, whether that be the way you talked, the way you walked or the way you looked at him with thoughtful eyes, like he was the star in each one of your universes.

No ordinary person could be like that, could they?

He’s at a loss for words, like usual. And that doesn’t surprise you. He was a man of a few words anyway. 

Stealing an orange slice, you get back to work. 

This time, Minho thinks, even the word ‘delightful’ doesn’t cover it. He’s sure that no word can encompass even a sliver of your essence, except maybe the words ‘Thank you’. 

And he hopes that now you’ll let him tell you that every single day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration to character. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

#+booksndpoetry #straykidsland #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #skz imagines #stayblr #skz lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #skz fluff #fluff #lee know fluff #writing #lee know #friends to lovers #writeblr #and shes done #im kind of proud of how this fic turned out #please give it lots of love

[gimmeurtmi]

slow mode — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, cockwarming, a lil masturbation, stressed reader, use of “bunny”, “baby,”, minho being ambidextrous in a hot way. this was supposed to be dirty but it’s mushy as fuck and not even that sexy. if you let an ace write smut don’t be surprised when that happens.

inspo: minho’s bubble messages and recent academic overwhelm

notes: can this be classed as my valentine’s day fic? here it is anyway. the title is a reference to sunshine which is my go to destress song. to anyone who relates to reader’s situation, may all your stresses be lighter from today my lovies 🩵

{ wc: 2003 }

you arrived home after another long day, one of many—maybe too many—and as soon as you put your things down and got rid of your shoes you walked over to the sofa, pouting at your boyfriend.

“oh, come here,” he said, putting his laptop away and opening his arms wide.

you crashed down on the soft sofa, head rolling onto minho’s thick thighs.

“how was it?” he asked, sympathetically. you rolled out of bed early, so early even minho wasn’t awake yet, and the sun had set hours before you’ve arrived back home.

he knew how hard things have been lately.

between all your work and deadlines and commitments, minho could see the stress was getting to you. minho could always tell.

“so many things to do,” you mumbled into his lap.

“i know. here,” he said, grabbing your arms and moving you to where he wanted you to be. he manoeuvred your thighs, placing them on either side of his lap and tucked your head into his warm chest. you sighed.

“bunny,” he cooed, his hand sinking into your hair. he slowly scratched at your scalp and quickly a warmth settled into your bones. you leaned further into it, further into him, and nuzzled your head against his chest.

minho wanted to ask you what else you had to do, what he could do to help, but the way your body fell pliant against his made him think maybe now all you needed was his fingers in your hair and his arm secured safely around your waist. he was right.

the soft glide of his blunt nails against the root of your hair, and the warmth radiating from his body—all of it enough to slowly melt away your stress. it was there, you knew the deadlines were coming, but for now all you could feel was the floaty feeling from minho playing with your hair and knowing you were there, in his arms, where it was safe.

maybe you accidentally deleted a three page essay you needed to hand in the next day or maybe your boss had a go at you or maybe your phone stopped working in the middle of your presentation and your notes were gone. but all of that didn’t matter now that it was over, now that you forgotten it completely, and now that your present was filled with lee minho.

“min?” you asked softly, after however many minutes passed.

he hummed underneath you, the vibrations soft against your cheek.

“why are you hard?”

minho chuckled awkwardly, slightly shifting underneath you.

“i was reading something before you got here,” he mumbled into your hair before planting a soft kiss on the locks.

“oh?” you lift your head up, eyes peering up at him. “what was it?”

“best positions to surprise your partner with this valentine’s day,” he recites the article headline. his ears change into a soft pink—it’s one of your favourite colours.

you giggle softly, straighting up to be eye levelled with him.

“and what did you find?”

“it wasn’t anything new,” he says, hand softly rubbing up and down your back, “but i was thinking of you doing them and…” he spares a small glance at his crotch.

at that you laugh loudly before tucking your head into his neck.

you breathe in softly, slowly, following the rise and fall of minho’s chest while his warm scent takes over you. you kiss his neck with a small peck.

“maybe i can help you?”

“bunny,” he rubs against your scalp, “you should be resting after a long day. another long day.”

“but min, i—“

“—did you even eat today?”

“of course! i ate the lunch you prepared yesterday and a few of us grabbed some food before the meeting. don’t worry,”

“good job,” he nods, resuming his soft scratching. you lean into it instantly. “i don’t want you straining your body too much. it needs rest.”

“i am resting,” you mumbled stubbornly. “it’s just i also want you inside me.”

the last part was quiet, defeated almost, and minho smiled against your forehead before peppering a few small kisses on your skin.

his other hand left your back and you felt him fiddling around near your thighs, before he softly told you to lean up. you silently followed his orders, looking down to find he pushed his sweats and boxers down to his knees.

you slowly sat back down on his bare thighs—but didn’t reach out to him. perhaps he was right, you were too tired to even move forward.

minho kept your head pressed into his neck, his ability to control both his hand and his dancer coordination proved exceptionally useful. he kept scratching your head, moving up and down and occasionally pressing softly into the back of your neck where most of your stress lived.

with his other hand, he stroked himself. once you realised what he was doing, you started leaving a few open mouthed kisses on his skin, kissing his pulse point and beneath his jaw.

“you need to prep too, bunny,” he said softly, voice breathy as it vibrated against your lips. “if you still want to.”

“i want,” you said quickly, tucking your hand into your pants and rubbing slowly. you were surprised to find just how wet you were, but then again, minho was right next to you stroking himself.

you needed him inside you.

you knew the prep you gave yourself probably wasn’t enough, but you needed him—you needed his warmth and his closeness and so you quickly lifted yourself up and rid yourself of your pants and underwear.

minho didn’t waste any more time, lining himself up to your entrance and guiding you down with a hand on your hip.

the pair of you sighed softly and you slowly and carefully sunk all the way down.

the stretch was more prominent than usual, but it was nice. so nice, and you let your eyes softly close at the fullness of having him inside you.

“there, baby,” he smiled at you, running his hands up and down your arms. he squeezed them softly before moving his hands to your back, rubbing up and down.

you didn’t realise how sore your whole body felt from the stress of everything the past few days had brought you, and you instantly relaxed.

“you’ve been working hard,” he said softly, nodding slightly as you lean your head back onto his chest. “you’ve done well, baby. so well.”

you melt at the praise, body weight pressed entirely into minho’s strong body as your mind slowly starts clearing up.

you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself even closer to minho as his arms both wrap around your back.

normally, you would be begging minho to start moving, to fuck you fast like he does when you’re stressed and need to forget the world around you. sometimes, he goes slow, when you need to be reminded of just how important you are to him. but now, he isn’t moving at all. and now, you think that’s exactly what you need. minho always knows.

you close your eyes, listening to the steady and reliable thumping of minho’s heart.

all other thoughts fade away. it’s nothing but minho, his smell and his warmth and his arms solid and strong around you. just minho.

———

your eyes are heavy, you must’ve fallen asleep as your brain feels empty and vague about the last few minutes. you slowly move your head to peer up at your boyfriend—a comforting smile on his face.

“did i fall asleep?” you grumble. you can still feel the fullness inside you, the pleasing pressure on your stomach so you know neither one of you has moved. you try slightly stretching out your thighs that have fallen asleep too, a soft tingling running through your feet at the numbness from the prolonged position.

you don’t move too much, but your pussy does instinctively squeeze around minho, and he lets out a delighted sigh as he leans his head back. still, he doesn’t move.

he runs his hands up and down your thighs, his smile still firmly in place as he looks up at you. he softly kneads your muscles, still working on helping you relax. your eyes lock together and the brown in front of you is swimming with adoration and a hint of pride you don’t know if you can even accept.

you feel yourself blush at the thought, know minho would scold you if you voiced it, and decide you’ll have to work harder on accepting the praise he gives you.

sometimes you think minho is the only person you’d ever let yourself be loved by.

most times you think that isn’t such a bad idea.

he licks his lips, swallowing in the way he does before he readies himself to say something important.

you tell yourself to accept his love, to let yourself be loved by him.

“you didn’t get me chocolate,” is what he says, “give me chocolate.”

you blink at him for a second, a habit you picked up from spending too much time around minho, trying to process what he’s even talking about.

it clicks a moment later.

“you never even asked me to be your valentine’s, so why should i?” you smirk at him.

he’s appalled by such an answer, eyes wide and mouth gaped enough for his bunny teeth to peek out slightly. you think you’d never love anyone as much as you love lee minho.

“you’re mine,” he says, simple. “why would i need to ask when you’re very clearly mine.”

you can’t help the way your body reacts when minho talks that way, and your pussy clenches tightly at his words.

minho doesn’t tease you, as you’d expect him to, but instead his eyes turn serious.

he runs his hands up to your hips, pushing you forward as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

“min,” your voice comes out high pitched and airy.

“i’m here,” he nods, “i’ll take care of you, okay?”

you nod.

he leans forward, kissing you firmly before bringing a hand back into your hair—softly scratching.

“my bunny,” he says, and it sounds like a promise. “and always my valentine’s. always mine.”

“always yours, min,” you echo firmly, and it sounds like acceptance.

minho brings a hand between your bodies, softly rubbing slow circles against your clit.

“and when things get stressful i’m here,” he reminds you, “and whatever it is you need.”

“m-me too, min, i’ll give you anything,” you moan softly.

“not chocolate, evidently,” he grins at you, his evil smirk out on full display.

you try and protest at his unfair accusation—you literally texted him earlier to ask if he wanted chocolate and he said no due to his personal trainer’s demands—but minho stops you with a fleeting kiss on your lips.

“i don’t need it anyway,” he decides, “you’re better than chocolate.”

at that minho grabs that back of your head and pulls your forward, kissing you urgently as his tongue softly moves against yours. he swallows down your moans as his hand moves faster against you, building and building and building.

you let the feeling take over you as you’re consumed by it, by minho and his familiar taste. the stubble on his chin and the softness of his lips and the way his soft hair feels between your fingers.

you let yourself forget everything else. the dates circled on your calendar and your unanswered emails and your appointments.

it doesn’t matter much when minho starts giggling into your mouth because you’ve knocked your teeth against his.

it doesn’t matter much when minho is all around you, inside you, kissing you. telling you, “mine, baby, mine,” as he starts lazily thrusting into you.

your thoughts, your anxieties, your responsibilities. for a moment they can all fade away—for just now. for as long as you and minho are together, connected.

for now, it doesn’t matter much. all you can think about is minho. just minho.

#all.works #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #minho x reader #minho x you #minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz smut #lee know smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut

[agnesafterhours]

trophy | lee know. smut.

As team captain, your boyfriend has his priorities straight. Minho doesn't take neither his training nor role lightly, and, sometimes, you like to tap into this inflexible side of his. (3.7k words)

CONTENT: smut, dom!minho but he's more persuasive than physically controlling, brat!reader, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, slight degradation kink. minors and empty blogs do not interact.

© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.

You shouldn't get under Minho's skin when he's training, you know that. The hurried whispers of his teammates leaving the field after matches told you this much. But still, it feels a bit unfair of him to make you sit here, after a whole game, having to watch as he leads his team through a “just, like, thirty minutes?” practice. Although annoyed, you understand why he's so hung up on practicing as much as possible—winning this game meant going to the finals, after all. You knew how much this meant to Minho, so you tried your best to be patient whilst sitting on the bleachers.  

Even though you're in a bit of a hurry to get him home, watching Minho play earlier makes it hard to deny that the field is his element, leading the team is his calling. You were completely stunned as you watched your boyfriend play—this being the first game of his you saw which you were actually rooting for his team. It was a bit of a rascal when the team captain introduced the cheerleader of their rivalling team as his girlfriend, but his mates eventually got over it. 

Your relationship with Minho was fun. You were together for a couple months and the freshness and excitement of it all never failed to make your skin tingle each time he looked at you in a certain way. Like the look he's giving you right now—chin up, eyes down, head slightly tilted.  

“I told you to wait.” His uniform's shoulder pads make him look even more intimidating, the bright spotlights behind him turning the white material almost blinding—his shadow casting on you. 

“I have been waiting! It's been like an hour, Min! And you said you'd take thirty minutes…” You hope a slight pout would help your case and soften his heart, but he simply turns his focus to the field for a moment, before looking back at you. Minho takes a few steps closer.  

“What’re you so eager to go home for?” He asks, voice a bit quieter. There's no need to speak this lowly when he's so close, especially when his teammates are so far away and everyone else has gone home by now—but you'll take advantage of whatever you can get from him. Even if it's just the feeling of his eyes on you. 

You look away, arms crossing under your chest as he smirks.  

“What? Cat got your tongue so early on, baby? Speak up.” 

“I'll tell you when we get in the car.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “I don't wanna wait ‘til we get in the car.” 

“Well, then maybe you should hurry.” You turn around, eyes lingering on him for a moment before you make your way to the parking lot. 

Your nerves make you jump a little when you hear Minho shout to his team they're wrapping up the practice—the parking lot getting darker and darker with the distance you put between yourself and the field's spotlights, a cool breeze awakening shivers up your arms as the night hugged you tighter and tighter. You (and the butterflies on your stomach) wouldn't settle until you felt Minho's presence. But you don't wait for him to catch up to you. You don't look back. 

The few minutes you sit in the car feel like hours, your phone's screen lighting up with a notification from your boyfriend finally seizing the constant checkups of your hair and gloss. 

min🖤: locker room  

You: why  im waiting for u  in the car 

min🖤: locker room:)  im waiting  

You: ive been waiting for longer  what if i just dont go 

You slam the car door shut, making a bee line to his location. 

min🖤: if you dont come you wont get what you want when we get home 

You: whatever 

The building's back door shuts loudly behind you.  

min🖤:  if you dont come ur gonna have made me end practice for nothing  

You: idc  ur already mad anyway  

You reach the locker room and as soon as your hand turns the door handle, you feel two hands on your hips pressing your back to the cold metal. 

Minho's tongue is in your mouth before you can even notice he kissed you, the cold air seeping through the open windows contrasting his warm palms on your skin. You're covered in shivers as he controls the kiss—one palm running up your chest to your neck until he reaches the back of your head, tilting it as he pleases.  

“Not mad enough to use numbing cream on you.” The bottle sits menacingly on the wooden bench. He spreads your legs with his thigh, pressing against your core. “So don't push me.” 

You're completely helpless, hands grabbing fistfuls of his uniform as he lightly pulls the hair on your nape every now and again—his mouth latching desperately onto yours. The room is dark, the campus so empty it almost feels like you're in a different dimension, completely by yourselves. Air fills your lungs for the first time in a while—you didn't realize you were that breathless until gasps fill the room as he kisses your neck. 

“I didn't even do anything.” He leaves a harsh bite at your words, sucking on the bruise a moment after. “Ah- I just wanted to congratulate you for winning-” 

“If you wanted to congratulate me”, his voice drips with sarcasm, “you would've sat there and wait for me to finish practice.” Minho hastily pulls the front of your tank top above your chest, not bothering to fully strip you out of it before his hand reaches under your bra, massaging your breast. “You would've been patient until I had the time to bring my pretty little trophy home, hm?” 

Air hitches in your throat when he rips your bra open, the cloth falling to the floor. You struggle through heavy breathing to talk back as he licks his thumb and brings it to your nipple. “I'm not just some trophy.” 

“You're not? What are you, then?” His lips leave your neck so he can look you in the eye, finally allowing to rest for a bit. You don't like the distance. 

You lean your head forward, chasing his smirking lips as he pushes you back against the lockers—the shuffling metal sounds strident in the dead quiet. Minho tilts his head back a bit, rejecting your kiss. “You didn't answer me.” 

“Because I wanna fucking kiss you!” You whine through gritted teeth, leaning towards him one more time. 

The grip he has on your hair stops you once again, but this time, he gets so close his lips touch yours when he whispers. “Tell me what you are, baby. ‘Cause sometimes you act like you're just a desperate little hole for me to fill." 

Minho's dilated pupils stare right into your soul. Your eyes shake but you don't look away. “I'm your fucking girlfriend. It's not my fault you're not good enough of a fuck that I'm never satisfied.” 

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.  

You see, Minho wasn't the type to growl his demands and manhandle you into whatever position he wants—he always tries reasoning with you. He lets you know what it is he would like to do, and if you don't comply, he'd show you why that was the best option for you in the first place. Minho gets off on proving he knows better, showing how he knows what's best for you. 

He takes a small step back, a click of his tongue letting you know his disappointment. “So I don't fuck you right? Okay.”  

“I just- I didn't mean-” 

“No, you're right, you're right. That's why I never make you come, right?” His sarcastic voice coming out a little bit breathless as he shoves your shorts and underwear down your legs, eyes fix on yours. You kick the clothes to the side with trembling legs, bambi eyes looking up at him. 

You didn't exactly know what the outcome of your stubbornness would be, but you did not expect Minho's knees to buckle—his gaze dead set on yours as he reached the ground.  

Suddenly, your boyfriend grabs your hand and latches it to the hair on the back of his head.  

“Why don't you fucking teach me then?” He speaks through gritted teeth, throwing your right leg over his shoulder pad—the unusual angle giving him all the access he needed and leaving you much more exposed.  

Unhappy with how limp your hand stayed in his hair, Minho grabs it once more, pushing himself against your core. 

“Come on, baby.” He mumbles, leaving wet kisses over your outer labia. When he looks up, resting his chin on the skin under your bellybutton, the dim light coming from the window makes his profile glow blue—pearly white grin hypnotizing you. Minho looked like an incubus—eager to suck the life out of you. “Where's your attitude, hmm? Show me what you like.” 

You can see your bare chest heaving with each breath as you look down at him. “Fin... Fingers?” 

He tilts his head to the side, big eyes full of mischief. “Fingers? You're asking?” 

“I… I don't-” 

“You don't know? Of course you do. You're just not thinking straight. Maybe it's stress, right? ‘Cause I'm not good enough?” Without a warning, the tip of his tongue lightly zigzags up and down your pussy. Up, and down again—avoiding your clit each time.  

“You see,” he says, letting his saliva mix with your arousal, “if I use my fingers now, you'll come too fast.” Minho leaves a long peck on your core. “I know that's what you want, but what about dragging it out a little bit? I think you'd like it better.” He flattens his tongue and your body squirms as he licks up. “But I mean, I wouldn't know.” 

Minho's being painfully annoying, but you deserve it. He takes his time dragging his tongue through your core, lapping your arousal and smearing it on your cunt—making your legs shake every now and again. His right hand keeps your squirming hips still as the left one slowly caresses it's way up your body, until he reaches your chest.  

He's looking up at you the entire time, watching every single twitch and reaction to the flow of his tongue on you. When he finally latches onto your clit, you swear you lose your mind a little. Your hips stutter and he follows you promptly, big brown eyes burning through you. The sight of Minho on his knees being illuminated by the moonlight is so ethereal it's almost haunting, and at that moment, you know you'll never really forget this view—you'll never forget how he's making you feel. He really is like a incubus in a way, imprinting his mark on the back of your mind forever. 

Impulsiveness takes over and you force your hips forward, the hand in the back of your boyfriend's head thrusting him against your cunt. Minho's eyes turn impossibly darker, his smirk much more noticeable than before. When he closes his eyes and his eyebrows furrow, you already know you're gone—instincts making you hold onto his locks harsher than ever. 

The soft sucking turns progressively rougher, your eyes squeeze shut as his tongue draws figure-eights on your clit very softly in contrast to how quickly his lips are working the same nerve. 

When your eyes start to water from how overwhelmed you feel, the telltale begins. As soon as your body starts shaking and your hips squirm away from his hold, you open your eyes to look at him just in time to watch as he completely removes himself off of you.  

Your heart drops, hot tears running down your shamed cheeks as you wobble a bit, trying to find balance without his hands on your hips. 

“Fuck, can you even feel anything, baby?” You feel the ghost of gentle fingertips on your labia, following up and down the slit. 

You can tell through your watery eyesight and the poor-lit room that he's now paying attention to the way his fingers play with your cunt, smirk wiped clean off his voice as he watches your arousal coat his fingers. “If I try something like this-” He gently pushes his ring and middle fingers inside you, slowly curling the tip of his fingers in come-hither motion, low voice filling up the emptiness, “does it feel good?” 

Does it feel good? You're long, long gone. Minho's voice sounds like it's coming from inside your head, the stimulation feels like it reflects in white orbits in your vision. You can no longer force yourself to open your eyes—it's for the better, anyway. You'd probably pass out if you caught a glimpse of his pretty brown eyes by now.  

Does it feel good? You don't remember how you got yourself in this situation—you don't even have the brain power to form a phrase involving anything but religious chants of his name. You've become nothing but a warm body for Minho to touch and use as he pleases, you'd be satisfied with the smallest of touch he'd be kind enough to reach for.  

His pouty lips find your clit again and suddenly, fireworks start setting off in your insides way too fast. Your stomach muscles contract in a way that's entirely new for you and you feel like you'll fall to the floor if he doesn't support all your weight. Your start to feel your throat straining, the constant whining suddenly getting higher. Your eyes are shut so tightly you can see blobs of colour behind your pitch-black eyelids. You think you're out of it for a little bit, but you can still hear his voice. 

“Yeah, I don't think I'm doing it right.” The raspiness of his tone almost puts you to sleep—his fingers are still inside you, now pumping back and forth, very slowly. You can hear the embarrassingly loud gushing sound of his fingers moving inside you, and you open your eyes to find your boyfriend's face and chest covered in your arousal. 

“I, I-” You don't know exactly what you have to say, but his loving eyes and the kiss he pressed to your thigh were not helping you find it out. 

“You ruined my fucking jersey.” His lopsided smile makes your breath hitch. 

“Need you.” 

He tilts his head again. “Do you? Really?” 

Your head is heavy as you nod, and you try your best to not lose focus. You know what he needs to hear to finally drop the act, and you know you should give in before your body gives out completely, but there's a little twisted voice inside your head asking how far you can take this—your body seems to be addicted to the thrill, moans immediately spilling out your lips when his fingers pick up pace. 

“You're not satisfied?” He asks, voice sugary sweet. His pouty lips pepper quick pecks on your inner thigh, expectant eyes looking up at you. “I’m not sure I can help you, though. I mean, if it doesn’t feel good it’ll just get painful at some point.” 

You stutter your words through a strained voice. “I’ll let you know if it does.” It takes your entire being to attempt to sound demanding. “We can keep going for now.” 

An amused countenance takes over his sharp features. “Oh, we can? Alright, ma’am. Thank you so much for letting me know.” He stands up, and the sudden shift in atmosphere rising goosebumps on your skin as he now looks down on you. 

Minho stands tall before you, the lighting no longer illuminating his doll-like eyes—shadows now cover most of his face, long hair hiding his gaze. As if he can hear your heartbeat picking up pace, he gets close to whisper against your lips, eyes hazy as he looks down at you. “I think we gotta stretch you out a bit more, hmm? If it didn't feel good, you're probably still tight.” 

Good God, you hate this man. You know what he’s trying to get out of you—you’re just not sure if you want to give him the satisfaction yet.  

So, you look up at him with the sweetest eyes you can possibly muster. “Don’t worry, bunny. You’re not that big.” 

He stares at you for a few seconds, the smile on his lips doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bench. On your back.” 

Although it seems you’ve worn his patience thin, you stare back. The cogs in your brain working their full capacity trying to figure out a way to make his life a bit harder. A disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he walks towards his locker, looking for his stuff to leave. 

As always, his action is effective. Minho really doesn’t need much to convince you to give in, after all, you know what you’ll get when you do. 

Silence fills the room as you discard your shirt all the way and lay on the bench, legs bent at the knees, heels resting on the cool surface. Anxiety bubbles under your sensitive skin when you hear Minho taking off his clothes. You rest you weight on your elbows to watch—his jersey was gone when you got to look at him, shoulder pads following suit. 

“What made you change your mind?” He opted to leave his white tank top on as he unbuckles his belt, one knee—supported by the bench—between your legs. The moonlight now shining entirely on him.  

“Don't like the emptiness…” Your voice trails off, and you don't mind staring shamelessly as he puts on a little show for you—one hand on your knee and running down your thigh, the other stroking his cock.  

He scoffs, “You say shit like this but doesn't like it when I say you act like a hole.” He taps his tip on your clit, earning a loud whine from you. “Make up your mind, bunny.” 

Minho stays kneeled before you, the cloth of his tank top so thin you could make out the lines of his chest and abs—the muscles on his pale arms shining iridescent in the lighting. 

Your boyfriend moved his hips, slowly grinding over your slit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head without much resistance, mouth watering with each nudge of his tip to your clit. “Whatever you said about me not being too big…” He leans down to leave a quick peck on your lips. “Keep that in mind.” 

With absolutely no warning and much faster than your brain would've been able to process, Minho buries himself as deep as he possibly can inside of you. He lifts your hips off the bench with ease, sitting on his heels—his hold on you so tight you bounced back against him with each thrust of his.  

The stamina of the man above you is unfaltering. You can't do much besides watch him: his biceps flex to support the weight of your hips every time he slams you back on his cock, veins prominent on his arms. Minho's face and neck are covered in the prettiest shade of pink—his wide chest, blushed with the same colour, is struggling with each breath he takes. The moonlight highlights the droplets of sweat sliding down his neck, and he can't seem to decide whether he wants to throw his head back or look down at where your hips align. 

Keeping himself together is the hardest when Minho looks down at you. He got his pretty girl all splayed out for him; her eyebrows furrowed in utter pleasure as the whiniest sounds constantly pour out of her pouty lips. The way your body reacts to him is hypnotic—it's so fun for him, how every little thing he does makes your eyes roll back. The power trip he gets when he watches your skin shiver wherever his hands touch is better than anything he's ever experienced. All because it's you. Because he gets you to feel like this. The fact you're so drunk on Minho gets him even more addicted to the feeling of your body shaking under him. So when your hips suddenly spring back to life rolling desperately against his and Minho's name seems to be the only coherent thought your brain can formulate, his desire increases tenfold. 

You have no control over how loud your moans or the smack of Minho's hips against yours are. He lowers you back on the bench and is fully above you in the blink of an eye—holding your face as he kisses you so deeply you struggle to keep up. His thrust become less timed but continue as deep as they were. Minho throws his head back, moaning loudly, but quickly brings his gaze back to your lips. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips touching yours as he whispers. 

“Come on, baby. You know how much I love to feel you coming around me. Be good.” 

Be good, be good. Of course you want to be good. When his lips touch yours again, euphoria explodes inside of you. Your eyes being squeezed shut seem to enhance your other senses a bit—you feel every inch of Minho's cock grinding inside you, his hands burning hot where they touch, his loud moans and the wetness spattering between your legs being the only things crystal clear in your cloudy mind.  

“Holy shit, fuck. I'm close, I'm so close.” He pants, face buried in your neck.  

Your weak hands gently soothe his back, you mindlessly mumble your words, “Wanna feel you coming inside me, love. Want it so bad.” 

His strong arms wrap around your waist when he comes, cock buried deep inside of you. Minho shudders with each movement of your hands against his skin, as you now gently scratch his back under his tank top. It feels like a long time has passed until he breaks the silence. 

“We're taking the numbing cream home, by the way.” He gets his face off your neck and rests his weight on his elbows. His right hand cups your jaw, thumb playing with your drooled lips. “You're not done paying for that attitude.”

#can u tell minhos outfit at kcon also inspired this #can u tell #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho smut #skz x reader #lee minho x y/n #stray kids x y/n #skz x you #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader

[sunboki]

🛒 SKZ TEXTS — “there’s a man in my bed”

including. ot8<3

warnings. threats?

notes. it’s been too long since i did a text headcanon, enjoy!!

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #straykids x you #straykids x y/n #straykids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #straykids fluff #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x gender neutral reader #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #seo changbin x y/n #seo changbin x you #seo changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin x you #changbin x reader

[stayinlimbo]

cat walk

pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡

if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him. 

it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are. 

minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.  

the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold. 

minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat. 

“what are you doing?”

dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.

“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother. 

you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–

“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms. 

okay, so maybe not. 

minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.

hold up. 

“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.

“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands. 

“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come. 

“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”

“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone. 

“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”

the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball. 

no, ready isn’t the word minho would use. 

you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because  this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt. 

“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes. 

minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point. 

he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”

“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest. 

as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe. 

you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own. 

and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.

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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz x reader #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #skz fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids #kpop imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stayinlimbo

[setsugekka]

❥outsourcing (m)

↳ With monogamy as the assumed, standard relationship model, what happens when a few years down the line, you and your husband come to the understanding that both of you are interested in exploring more?

You call his friend over for dinner and entertainment, of course.

husband!bang chan x fem!reader x bull!lee minho — ethical non-monogamy, explicit sexual content. [5,8k wc] cws: hot wifing/cuckholding!!, dom/sub dynamics (dom!minho), penetrative sex (unprotected), oral sex (m), hair pulling, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation, pet names (incl. slut).

Renegotiation of terms.

There are always terms and conditions.

We don’t typically refer to it in such a crass way – the agreed upon conditions of a relationship upon entering it. The expectations and boundaries each individual may have for the other. Typically, most things that would constitute the terms and conditions are assumed upon entry.

Monogamy is assumed. The standard. This is the baseline, unless otherwise stated. The end all, be all of a relationships' foundation, in many cases. Do you want to fuck other people, or not?

Sometimes, when entering a new relationship, we agree to terms that at the time we are happy with. Of course I don’t want to be with anyone else, I love you, why would I? You’re all I could ever need.

The concept of one person providing any and everything you could possibly ever need. Such a socially common set up for failure. An impossible task we ask of partners without even truly stating it. Be everything at all times for me, and I will be the same for you. The idea that seeking anything outside of a partner is bad – when that is precisely what friends, family, colleagues all provide, without the logical connection being made.

Is one person ever truly enough? Is it logical to even believe in such a fairy tale?

The truth of the matter, is that you are not enough. There is comfort, serenity, freedom upon accepting this as the case. We are only human, after all. Being human is okay.

“Do you ever think about it?”

You watch the back of Chan’s head from your seated position at the dining room table – you watch his arms still only briefly from the chopping motion of him working into the onions on the counter before he turns slowly to look behind him – at you, and his brows furrow in confusion. “Think about…what?”

The innocuous conversation about your time together as a couple – now married – had started simply enough, discussing the past and present and all of your little journeys together in between, sexual and not – but naturally, as the hours wore on, the sexual nature had begun looming more and more in the foreground of the talk.

Besides, you had been thinking about it for months, now. How to bring it up. If you even should. Suppose now was as good a time as ever.

It was difficult sneaking it in there, between some recollection of dirty talking and fantasy discussion. He was the one that had brought it up to begin with, after all. He put the thought in your head. Nothing you were too keen on in particular at the time – three or so years back, and in the middle of sex – but the idea stuck with you, creeping back in with more and more frequency. He brought it up. He mentioned it. It was his idea.

But did he even remember?

Bringing an elbow up to the table and placing your chin in your palm, you grin towards him. Your husband. Love of your life. It wasn’t as if you wanted to replace him, after all. He was perfect, amazing, wonderful, and the sex was, too. It wasn’t about any of that.

You weren’t really sure what it was about. Curiosity? Taboo? A sort of itch unable to be scratched, but also lingering without cause. The truth was this: you had perfectly fine dick at home, so why were you wanting more?

He brought it up.

“Remember that anniversary night that we got pretty drunk, you said that thing,” you begin, taking the utmost care in how you traverse your words. “About…someone else?”

It always was cute, the way you could watch Chan’s ears redden in real time.

“Were you serious?”

Chan sets the knife down and turns slowly, leaning the small of his back up against the counter edge as if in need of the support for the conversation that is about to take place. Chewing on the inside of his mouth as if just as carefully attempting to choose his words, he silences for far too long for your own liking, before finally allowing a response from himself.

“Do you want that?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question!” you whine, jokingly throwing a hand towel in his direction and only for it to fall flat on the floor in front of him. He flinches regardless and smiles.

“Fine,” he says, before making his way to sit across from you at the table. “Then we need to like…talk about this.”

Chan reaches forward and takes your free hand into one of his own, gently rubbing his thumb over the top of it and bashfully smiles at you. Ears still bright with shyness, and he pulls his eyes down and away from your own briefly before answering the question.

“For me? Yeah, I mean,” he pauses, once again thinking through his response carefully and in real time. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything but…I think about it, yeah.”

“Do you jerk off to it?”

“Oh come on, really?”

“I feel like that’s the best indicator of how into something you are,” you joke, “if you come to it, then you’re into it. At least, the idea of it.”

Pulling his hand away and sitting back in his chair to cross his arms, playfully huffy at the way the conversation has turned, he rolls his eyes before reluctantly answering. “Yes! Is that what you want me to say? Yes, I have.”

“Okay, good,” you say, reaching forward again with a grabby hand indicating that you wish to receive physical affection from him just as he had been giving prior to the line of questioning. “What is it about it that you…like?”

You can tell that your husband struggles with coming to terms with the conversation taking place. Not from a place of humiliation, or dissatisfaction, but rather that it was one he hadn’t intended on ever having, most likely. A conversation that he had never once played out in his head, or practiced. A passing whim one drunken night, locked away into the back of his mind – only to be indulged between him and his hand – now bare and laid out on the table for questioning. By his wife. In regards to a monogamous marriage.

…Unless?

Chan shifts in his seat and gives his hand back to you, bringing his elbow up to mirror your own posture before responding. “Suppose…something about watching you – would just be incredibly sexy to me. Making eye contact with you while it happens even if I’m not involved.”

And now you’re really taken aback, because the original assumption had been one of a threesome, but now with new information present – you realize the two of you had been on much different pages all along – and the difficulty of not expressing your shock at the revelation holds firm as it paints your facial features. “Not involved?”

But he only smiles in reply, as if the initial timidity had already worn off with the one, single expression of his desires. However, perhaps he had merely passed it to you, now, feeling the tips of your ears heat up at the implications racing through your mind.

Not a threesome. Watching.

“You think about watching another man fuck me?”

Just right out with it, then.

Chan chuckles at the fact that you’ve finally caught up with what’s actually being discussed and squeezes your hand in affirmation. “You know I’ve never been the jealous type, babe.”

“I mean, yeah,” you stumble through your words, “I just figure…most men would at least want to be involved.”

“I would be involved, I’d be there, just wouldn’t be the one fucking you.”

“You’ve really thought about this before?” you ask, suspicious.

“More than you even know.”

Your eyes widen in silent shock at the admission. You learn so much about your husband everyday, suppose today would be no different, would it?

“Besides,” he begins again, “you’re the one that broached this conversation, so obviously you’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Yeah, a threesome, not-”

“Fucking another man, in general. The details are just that, really.”

Chan saying it like that makes you feel a little guilty, you realize. Shying away from the topic both verbally and physically – gently attempting to pull your hand from his own you watch the way his face Changes from playful to concerned – he always was incredibly attentive and quick on the pickup. “Whoa, whoa,” he stammers, “what’s wrong?”

Concern lacing your own features, you refrain from making eye contact with him – unsure of the turn that the discussion had taken. “I don’t want you to think that you’re like…not good enough or something, or like I’m constantly fantasizing about other men, or-”

“Aww, babe,” Chan coos, motioning you out of your chair and over to him. He seats you on his lap and quickly wraps strong arms around you. “I don’t. I am not even a little insecure about this – or about us – you have to know that.”

Chan kisses your arm, the only thing in direct kissable range and smiles up at you as you look down at him. “Trust me, that I know what I’m okay with, yeah? You don’t have to babysit me, I promise.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“So, shall we dabble, then? Wade in the pools of non-monogamy?”

Hearing him say the words, non-monogamy, it sort of makes your head spin. Obviously, that is precisely what is at hand, so it being said shouldn’t elicit such a bizarre reaction deep within you. Innate guilt, worry, almost a sense of dirtiness begins to bubble up in your gut – and realistically, you know why.

Monogamy is the implied social standard. Anything outside of that is wrong. That’s what you’ve grown up being told…by everyone, by everything. Is it really okay, to bring someone else into your marriage, even if both parties are enthusiastically on board?

Hell yeah it is.

The truth is, renegotiating the terms of ones marriage – even just for a night, takes time. It takes work. It takes numerous conversations – and as a result, it’s approximately six months that go by before the logistics ever really feel ironed out enough to make the dive. Discussions of friends? Mutual friends? One-sided friends? Strangers? Each coupling will have their own preference of whom to invite in, even be it only for an evening, but upon settling on the first term, it’s only a whole slew of others thereafter. After a point, you begin to consider if sex is ever even going to happen, or if the two of you will simply talk about it forever.

But such is how it must be, to help ensure that the night – and relationship – not end in catastrophe.

It does, however, sneak up on you faster than expected – once a third and the date arrive. Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, clipping the backing of your earring on – is when you hear the voice of your husband greeting another of only semi-familiarity.

Lee Minho was Chan’s friend. He was in the wedding party. The two of you had spent just enough time together that you felt comfortable around him but not so much so that he felt too close to you, specifically. The perfect candidate. Drop-dead gorgeous. Not shy about his particular…endeavors, either. He fit the bill, perfectly.

Because you and your husband were searching for something quite specific for the evening.

It was in that moment, though – knowing that the two men were both in your home now, that it felt truly real. Of course, there was still much conversation to take place before anyone's clothing would be coming off, but he was here. Your husband was here. You were here. You were…going to have sex with another man for your husbands viewing pleasure tonight.

Probably not a story for the future grandchildren.

“Hey.”

There they are. The two men of the night standing in the doorway, now both looking at you as you slink into the living room slowly – as if not to disturb, and you can’t help but carefully scan the expressions on both of them – as if looking for the tiniest sign of reluctance.

But Minho knows why he’s here tonight – naturally, best not to spring this sort of arrangement on an unsuspecting party.

“Hey,” Minho says, continuing to shrug off his coat and hanging it on the rack next to the door. With shoes already off, he makes his way over to you and kisses the air next to your cheek. “Long time no see, huh? You look nice.”

It feels normal, in ways. It also feels incredibly bizarre. Perhaps you expected him to act some way, some way different – although you’re not sure how. But he wasn’t. He was the same as always. You aren’t sure if it makes it feel better or worse. Weird?

You look over at your husband, once again looking for any signs that this should end now before it even gets started.

But Chan only smiles. All lights green for go.

Chan handles dinner as he typically does, and it goes smoothly as expected. Catching up with Minho as if he’s any other house guest – except for tonight, a careful consideration for the alcohol intake by all parties. A soft ‘two drink maximum’ is agreed upon long before his arrival by all participants, as to not get too carried away on any end. Once food is eaten and plates cleared, Chan pours everyone their second and final glasses of wine for the night before taking his seat at the shared table again and he inhales deeply, purposefully.

Because it’s time for negotiations.

“So, suppose we should talk about the rest of the night, then?”

You shuffle in your seat a bit at the idea of how the talk will go, despite having already had similar discussions previously over the months. Minho is no stranger to the topic at hand, and it’s not even his first time being a third to a couple – information he casually mentioned upon the first inquiry – it was comforting to you in a particular way, that at least someone involved in tonight's festivities had been here before.

“Pretty much,” Chan starts, and surprisingly confident, “the two of you just have fun. I don’t have any particular boundaries of what you can and can’t do, but I think it’s best if we use the color system for safety, just in case.”

Green means “everything is good,” yellow means “slow down, I need a moment to recollect myself,” and red means “immediate full stop.”

“Yeah, that sounds best,” Minho agrees, and then turns his sight to you across the table. “Are you okay with that? Is there anything you can think of that you do or don’t want me to do?”

Just the question itself makes you feel a little light-headed. You had thought about this numerous times already, for months, and yet your mind still felt empty in the moment. As if not even a second of consideration had been had prior. It was excitement, but it was also fear. The fear of doing something wrong. The fear of the potential aftermath of tonight.

Sensing your hesitation, Minho looks at Chan before reaching his hand across and taking your own. “Hey, you don’t have to do this just because I’m here, seriously, we don’t have to do anything, I can go home now, later, right in the middle of it – it’s all fine by me.”

“No, no!” you insist, realizing how standoffish you appear. Reluctant. scared. You are a little bit, but in no way are you rethinking. “I do, I want to…I'm just, nervous? I guess?”

“Is it because I’m here?” Chan asks suddenly, and you realize upon hearing the words that yeah, it kind of is. He smiles and nods at your admission, gently reaching over and adding his own hand onto the pile of reaffirming ones already laid out atop the table.

“Don’t worry about me, if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

Arms pull back and negotiations continue, easier than before. Minho asks about the common things; condoms, anal, penis in vagina, oral…along with some less common things that are more within the scope of the role he’s meant to play that night, and with boundaries more or less set, the three of you stand up, and head towards the bedroom. Minho walks ahead, taking your hand into his own to lead you – briefly looking back at your husband, with a smile on his face – it’s the first time that the guilt and fear truly subsides – and is replaced with excitement, anticipation, desire.

Pulling up a chair, Chan sits himself down a bit distanced from the corner of the bed as to allow ample space for the scene that is about to take place before him. You suspect that perhaps he had downplayed his interest in the whole thing, with how the smile on his face never diminishes even once Minho starts kissing you.

You think it’s charming, but you know that eventually, you’re going to have to let the thought of your husband fall by the wayside to truly enjoy the fun that the night has to offer.

Standing at the side of the bed, Minho gently wraps one, strong, arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him before kissing you on the mouth – and the excitement of another man kissing you, lips completely unfamiliar after years of familiarity, immediately sends a rush of anticipation to your groin. Gently sucking at your bottom lip, teeth ghosting against the flesh – you’re reminded that Minho had been invited to play a very particular role that night – one that Chan never had been all that willing to play, even after all of your years together.

Minho was there to use you.

Pulling back from you, you already feel a bit dazed from the rush of adrenaline – looking at the man before you as he begins unbuttoning his white dress shirt, looking at you through long lashes and whispy, black hair, he smiles briefly before quickly kissing you again.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, remember that,” he whispers as he continues fiddling with his buttons. “Ever. You can tell me to stop any time.”

“I know,” you respond, a bit breathier with want than you had liked, and Minho chuckles under his breath at the effect that he’s already had on you before shrugging his shirt off and bending down for the bottom of your dress – carefully pulling it up and over your head.

Now it was very real.

Minho kisses you again, arms pulling you against him, and you revel at the way it feels to have the heat of another man on your skin. When you had imagined the moment, you hadn’t thought it to feel anything like this. The excitement, the anticipation, the needy want of another man inside of you, and already? Truthfully, you were a little humiliated at what he was doing to you.

“I’m gonna start the scene now,” Minho says quietly, looking you in the eyes and scanning your features. “Remember what I said.”

“Yeah, okay,” you exhale, and it’s shaky.

“Are you okay?” Minho chuckles again before starting, and you can only laugh at yourself in response.

“Yeah, you’re…I want to fuck you.”

You hear Chan off in the corner, and he’s laughing at your admission, which only causes Minho to laugh a bit, himself. “Okay well, we’ll get there, needy.”

Hearing Minho call you needy certainly doesn’t offset your desire for him, but watching his expression harden and his eyes darken right before you – as if settling into character – only sets off the growing desire in the pit of your stomach more.

“Get on your knees.”

Minho is already unbuckling his belt and prying his zipper down as the demand leaves his lips, and you’re all too happy to follow suit, dropping quickly and placing your hands on his thighs for leverage as he exposes himself to you. Slightly thinner than Chan, but also slightly longer – the idea of taking a dick that you’re not familiar with rushes to the forefront of your mind and the familiar ache of want begins to settle between your legs.

You haven’t even touched it, yet.

“Why don’t you go ahead and make coming here worth my time, then?”

And you’re all too happy to oblige, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and slowly working him before gently running a circle over the tip of him with your tongue – Minho’s breath hitches as he watches you then take the majority of his length into your mouth. Three strokes of your lips onto him, Minho brings a hand up and into your hair, gripping slightly and pulling you off of him. He smiles, rubbing the head of himself against your already red lips and watching the way you already – seemingly desperately – wish to have him in your mouth again.

“Look at you,” he says, satisfaction lacing his tone, “so desperate for strange cock. Color?”

It almost gives you whiplash, but you answer right away, “green.”

“Good, that’s what I thought – now show me just how bad you want it.”

And you do, in quick fashion. Combining the motion of your mouth and your hands as you work him, tongue lapping circles over the tip of his cock when you pull off, you love the way he watches every motion of you on him – and almost with a look of disdain. As if he doesn’t respect you, as if you’re nothing but a place to come for him.

Precisely everything that Chan could never do.

Working him quickly, you feel his fingertips curl into your scalp as the words leave his lips – except that they’re not intended for you.

“Mmm, your wife sucks cock pretty well, might have to make a regular arrangement of this.”

You think in that moment, that you might come untouched after all.

But just as quickly, Minho pulls you off of him and motions for you to get onto the bed as he pulls his jeans from his legs the rest of the way. You quickly oblige, and it’s not long before Minho is up and between your legs – meeting you face to face again and kissing you rough, with teeth. needy and hard between your legs. Hands snaking up his toned arms – not as thick and built as Chan – but enough to be strong, you feel all of the ways that he’s different from the man that you married. That you love. The thought brings your attention back to Chan, seated across the room – hand firmly and slowly wrapped around himself.

He was enjoying watching it. Suppose it really was his ultimate fantasy all along: watching you fuck another man for his entertainment.

And naturally, the fact that he was enjoying it, touching himself to it, only made the desire pool between your legs that much more.

“Don’t look at him,” Minho says, pulling your face over and towards him with a finger, “you’re mine, tonight.”

Oh my god.

You feel Minho’s hand slink down your body and between your legs, fingers pressed up against your clothed pussy, and you watch the way genuine shock takes his features – it’s almost out of character in the split second – it might actually be out of character.

You wore lace panties. Can’t hide much with that.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims, barely touching the soaked fabric between your legs, “you’re so wet.”

“Minho!” you shyly reply, swatting his arm as it holds him in a hovering position over you, and he only laughs in response.

“Sorry, I’m just – wow – good.”

And it’s as if he remembers to slip back into a more domineering character, that he adds, “I was going to eat you out, but suppose I don’t have to.”

Pulling himself up and seated on his heels, Minho slips a finger on each side of your hips into your panties, “can I take these off?” and you nod hurriedly in response. Minho’s eyes follow the string of arousal that connects the fabric to you as he pulls it from you in near awe – and playfully shakes his head at you before crawling back up your torso and settling down against you – head of his length just faintly pressed against your folds.

“Sure you don’t want me to wear a condom?”

“No, I-” and you pause, eyes pulling towards your husband again – his own eyes intently gazing upon the display in front of him – and you snap.

“I want to feel you, I want to feel all of you.”

Minho only smiles, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck as he reaches down to line himself up with you. Kissing your skin, his lips make their way to the shell of your ear as he slowly presses himself forward and in.

“God baby, you want me so bad, hm? Don’t worry, I’ll have you drooling for me…”

It’s a whisper, dialogue only to be heard between the two of you – not for your husbands ears, and the implications make your head spin, along with the slow stretch of unfamiliarity prying you apart in new and different ways from what you’re used to. Once pressed hip to hip, Minho stills and pulls himself up and off of you to look at you – taking you in visually.

“Can I move?”

“Please,” you just about beg.

If you were honest, Minho was being much less domineering than you had expected – you assume that it’s due to this being the first time that this arrangement is taking place – that he’s playing it safe and not wanting to take too many risks. You kind of wish he would be riskier, but the excitement of a new partner is already doing majority of the work for him as it is – mind racing at how wrong it is, allowing another man to fuck you, and raw at that.

And come inside of you?

With just the thought, your walls tighten against him and he feels it, humming at the sensation in a slow build up to a pace that suits the both of you – Minho hovers over you with both palms flat against the mattress to either side, looking down at how he enters and exits you – and then back up at the absolute delight splashed across your face.

Biting your lip as his pace builds, the overwhelming need to vocalize threatens you, and it feels all too real in the moment. Moaning as another man fucks you, for your husband to hear, but Minho’s too quick on the uptake and he recognizes it. Another easy win, for him.

“You worried he’s gonna hear you?” Minho groans as he finally settles into his pace – fucking hard into you and the sounds echoing throughout the room. “Worried he’s gonna hear how much you love my cock? He can hear you, he’s going to hear you, it’s okay.”

You can’t even control it at that point, exasperated fuck and oh my God escaping your bitten red lips as he fucks into you, and it only makes him thrust against you harder – so hard that it pushes you up the bed. “That’s right, don’t hold back, let him hear you, baby, let him know you like it.”

Head spinning, and muscles tightening, you scramble to grab onto anything that you feel will give you any sort of leverage as you feel your first orgasm quickly threatening – Minho’s forearms seeming as good a choice as any as your nails dig in, and he hisses in response with a smile, all the while continuing his relentless pace into you.

“You can come” he insists with a soft, gentle utterance, “you can come for me, and you can come for him.”

And for whatever reason, that’s what makes you snap.

The orgasm tears through you in violent fashion, eyes darting down to watch your husband as he pulls at himself at the sight. Looking back up at the man taking you through it, he grins down at you with his bottom lip pulled up between his teeth in satisfaction.

As Minho finishes riding you through it, he presses himself down against you again – mouth against the skin of your cheek, hot breath against you as he breathes out, and you can feel him begin to withdraw from you.

“That one was for me, now one for him, hm?”

Before you can think through the implications of the words, Minho pulls up and away – taking your limp body with him and turning you to face Chan across the room – your arms barely able to catch you from face planting into the mattress, and the man steadies your hips up and towards him and just as fluidly sinks himself into you again with a groan as he leans forward and settles a fist in your hair – ensuring that you’re watching your husband just before you.

“You like having him watch you?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter out and against the sheets.

Minho looks up and at Chan, “you like watching her get fucked?”

It’s breathy and shaken, but a “yeah” escapes from him in response.

“Good,” Minho says, burying himself deep into you from behind – so hard that the force and weight of him pushes you down and flat against the bed beneath you – now straddling you from behind, he brings his hand back, flat against the between of your shoulders to hold you in place as he continues into you. “She’s so wet, think she’s going to come watching you.”

Chan groans at the words, and the truth of the matter is that he might be right – feeling the familiar coiling between your legs again, and already at that.

“You gonna come for him, baby?” Minho growls, his motions harsher and rougher than before, getting more comfortable in his role as a sort of dom for the night. “Gonna let him watch you get filled up with my cum, maybe?”

“Fuck, Minho,” is all you can manage through gritted teeth, fingertips curled into the sheets beneath you begging for any purchase onto reality, but the truth is, you’re watching Chan – watching the way he palms himself at the sight of another man fucking you, talking to you like this, saying that he’s going to come inside of you – and Chan is enjoying it. He’s close.

It only gets you there even faster.

“Oh, hear that? Thought of me coming in her has her moaning my name,” he says smugly, thrusts harder than ever before, “well go ahead then, milk me, slut. Earn it.”

Quickly, you feel Minho lean down and against your ear, “can I cum inside of you?” and you just as quickly answer in affirmation. You had discussed it prior, but you appreciate the check in, nonetheless. He pulls back up, both hands gripped into the flesh of your behind as he rocks into you, desperate pleas for him not to stop falling from your mouth as you bring your attention back up to your husband – and with finality, you deliver the final blow of the night.

“I’m coming, please, please, i-inside, I want-”

Your incoherent babbling is enough to set both of the men over the edge, but it’s Chan who is the first to go, breathy curses leaving his lips in what you think might be the hardest he’s ever come – and you think to yourself in one split-second moment of clarity how lucky you are to be in such a position where you can simply witness it, as almost a bystander of sorts – to the absolute visual glory that is your husband stroking himself to completion as milky-clear ropes of cum coat his abs and fingers upon the display before him.

You’re the second to find your end, tightening hard around Minho’s cock at the visual of watching Chan finish, and it’s all it takes to topple the man inside of you over the edge – fingernails gripped deep into your skin as he fucks into you hard – three, four more times – throbbing through his release inside of you before slowly coming to a halt and slumping over your back with a heaving chest.

As sanity begins to come back to you, you consider the fact that there’s a lot of post-nut clarity to wade through right about now.

But Minho takes over, just as he had majority of the night – being the sort of guide throughout – he soon after finishing withdraws from you and peels himself from you altogether, lying down next to and brushing hair from your face.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?”

It takes you a few moments to answer, but the concern across his face pushes you forward. he’s worried. He needs to hear that you’re okay. That it’s all okay. That he didn’t fuck up and that you’re not feeling regretful, guilty, remorse.

“Yeah,” you finally exhale, “yeah, I’m okay, I feel good.”

And Minho smiles at the response, feeling relieved. He reaches down and finds your hand, lacing his fingers with your own, before leaning forward and kissing you on the forehead. “Good.”

With that, he then slowly cranes his neck up and over to get a visual of Chan, still breathy and spent just a bit across the room. “You good, champ?”

But Chan can only chuckle in response at first, before nodding and acknowledging the mess before him, “if she’s happy, then I’m happy.”

“Thanks for everything again,” Chan says, handing Minho a bag of food to take home in the morning. “You do good work, very professional,” he jokes.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m work for hire, oh my God,” Minho scoffs, pulling his jacket on and taking the bag from Chan. “I did you the favor!”

“Fucking my wife is a favor to me?”

“Evidently, I didn’t invite myself.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you smile, playfully slapping Chan on the arm before reaching towards Minho and hugging him goodbye. “Thanks for last night, you took really good care of us, it means a lot.”

Minho sort of rolls his eyes, as if embarrassed by the idea of being complimented for a job well done, but says that you’re more than welcome to you before turning back towards your husband, and with an elbow to the arm and a sly grin, “be careful buddy, might steal your girl.”

And Chan rolls his eyes in response, thanking Minho again for his time before pushing him out of the front door in envious jest.

With the door closed, and an end to the chapter, Chan pulls you into his embrace and hugs you tightly, much to your surprise. “I love you,” he says.

“Babe,” you start, apprehensively, “are you really worried he’s going to take me? You don’t have to-”

“No,” Chan interjects, pulling you from him and just as lightning quick hoisting you up and over his shoulder before heading to the bedroom.

“But don’t worry, I’m about to undo everything he just did.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan imagines #lee know smut #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #lee minho smut #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho scenarios

[hanichani]

soft minho thought, soft minho thought!!!! ✩‧₊˚

min dragging you everywhere by the hand and constantly holding it because that’s what brings him the most comfort (not that he would ever say it.)

you’re late for something? he’s taking your hand in his and dragging you behind him, complaining about how the guys are going to be so annoyed with you two. but his thumb is rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

when you’re sitting at an important dinner with important people and minho needs to make a good impression, his hand is wrapped up in yours under the table. your fingers squeezing his whenever he stumbles over his words. he wants to kiss you now and then because you don’t even realize how much it calms him.

when you’re sitting on the couch at his parent’s house, soonie in your lap, dori in his and doongie sitting in between you guys. your hand is tracing the veins on his arms absentmindedly. his eyes leave the tv for a brief second to follow the movement and he’s enamored. when he sees your head turning to follow his gaze, he looks back at the tv immediately. he can’t be seen being soft.

whenever he can’t fall asleep, his fingers find yours in the dark, wrapping around them. he might even scoot closer to you, until your noses are almost touching but it usually wakes you up right away.

“min?” you ask, squeezing his fingers. he only hums in response but the puff of air that escapes him surprises you since you didn’t think you fell asleep that close to him. “all good?” you ask, your hand, the one that’s not holding his hand, sneaking under his shirt to rest on the warm skin of his torso. he sighs, deciding whether to bother you with his troubles of not being able to sleep or whether to let you go back to dreamland. he decides for the latter and lets out a little “mhm” in agreement. you pause for a second trying to figure out whether to press him for an actual answer or just let him be but you figure he would tell you if he really wanted to and so you opt for the silent act of reassurance.

your finger draws a little heart on his back before it moves to your other hand. both of your hands now enveloping one of his. you feel him adjust on his side before he moves his face closer to your intertwined limbs. he kisses the back of both of your hands that are holding his before closing his eyes again and finally drifting off.

#stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know soft hours #lee know soft thoughts #skz drabbles #lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader #lee know drabbles #lee minho drabbles #skz x y/n #lee know x y/n #lee minho x y/n

[saturnnelahy]

𝑺𝒌𝒛!𝑩𝑭𝑭 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (Hyung line)

Part 2: Maknae line

「 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 」

#skz fake texts #skz x reader #stray kids fake texts #hwang hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan #changbin x y/n #seo changbin #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x y/n #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x y/n

[blurboki]

american football player! lee minho who can’t keep his hands to himself in the locker rooms after seeing you cheering for him in the stands, pretty skirt he’d bought for you hiked up where he could hold your thighs and absolutely dine.

every time you make too loud of a sound he stops, feline-like eyes looking up at you in warning, and you don’t have to hear it to know he’s telling you to behave.

you try, you really do, but his face is buried in your cunt, licking fat stripes all the way up to your clit has you seeing stars — especially knowing how good he’ll fuck you once you’re home. for now, you have to be a good girl and keep quiet so his teammates outside don’t hear.

when you squirm excessively (courtesy of his nose bumping your sensitive clit whilst his tongue devoured you), he peeks from below, looking up at you with your fluids coating his mouth and chin that has an utterly desperate sound creeping from your throat.

so while his fingers replace his heavenly tongue, scissoring and stretching your hot walls (enough to have you crying), minho marks your inner thighs with his attention. no shorts for a week at the least thanks to the deep purples decorating every inch of you, those bitten close to your pussy already aching a soft pink shade.

although as you cry against your palm, body violently twitching with ecstasy while riding the blissful waves of your orgasm, minho kisses your skin, whispering praise while admiring the stickiness collecting and leaking down to stain his sleeve.

rest assured, you’d be purchasing a new set of bed-sheets the next morning.

#stray kids x reader #straykids smut #stray kids smut #straykids x reader #lee know smut #skz x reader #leeknow smut #lee minho smut #straykids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #leeknow x reader #skz smut #skz x y/n #skz x you

[khrtzu]

‘MINHO DRABBLE 1’

PAIRING — boyfie!minho x fem!reader

GENRE — smut

SYNOPSIS — minho has an oral fixation

TW — none :)

NOTE — soo i sent this in an ask for @hyunsvngs and thought is was sexy so im posting it here too >&lt;; (side note go follow juno theyre an amazing writer and they support all my delusional hard thoughts..)

nav :3

minho has the biggest oral fixation. its starts innocent, hes always chewing on his pens and pencils, licking and biting at his own lips, mindlessly sucking on a lollipop while he works. then he constantly has his mouth on you. kissing your lips, cheeks, shoulders and down your arms. he even presses little kisses to your knuckles and tips of your fingers, but the pecks on your fingers slowly turn into him taking it in his mouth sucking and biting just slightly and he scrolls on his phone. he doesn’t really notice what he’s doing. poor baby just wants to be as close as he can to you :(

then one day as minhos thrusting into you at a controlled pace making your eyes roll and drool slip past your lips slightly. hes got his hands all over you, your right leg pulled up and ankle resting in the dip between his shoulder and neck so he can hit extra deep inside you. his hand thats not holding your leg comes down to tweak your nipples before he wipes the drool from your chin. “such a messy girl” he coos at you. his fingers going from your chin up to your bottom lip trailing against it so lightly. he looks almost hypnotized staring at your plumps lips that fall open in a silent moan as he leans forward and lets his pointer finger slowly dip into your mouth.

and lord its so wet and hot and he cant help but let out a whine at the feeling of it. your eyes stay locked on his as you take his finger, your lips wrap around the base of it before sucking as he pulls his finger back just to push it in once more. “holy shit.” he mutters and he realizes the simple action is gonna push him over the edge. “gonna cum.” he whimpers breathlessly as you continue to swirl your tounge around his finger sucking, drooling, and biting at it softly. he cant take his eyes off your mouth as his pace quickens, chasing his high.

the vision of you drooling all over him and god the feeling of it. it’s unexplainable and before he knows it hes toppling head first into what he thinks is the most intense orgasm hes ever had. his eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth hands open in a silent moan brows scrunched together in nothing but pure pleasure. his hips still and you feel his hot seed fill your aching cunt. the hand holding your leg comes down to grip your hip dimpling the supple flesh to try and stabilize himself. he huffs out a breath coming down from his high before his fingers ripped from your lips and its replaced with his own. is nothing short of passionate and needy. he lets out a moan into the kiss before pulling back with your bottom lip caught between his teeth.

#khrtzu: lino drabbles #lee know #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee minho #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #kpop #kpop smut #smut #fluff #angst

[gimmeurtmi]

what you want — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, pwp, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, riding, hickies, very slight nipple play (m receiving), just pure filth no plot

inspo: skz talker episode 61, 16:25.

notes: it’s been so long and i’m still shaking off the rust on my writing muscles!! please lmk your thoughts. feedback is v appreciated <3

{ wc: 2389 }

you’ve been waiting for minho to come home all day. you could barely focus on anything since you woke up, a selfie from your boyfriend waiting for you.

‘i’m gonna die pt is gonna kill me’ was attached underneath the selfie he sent you. minho, in a black tank top that was admittedly a size too small for him, sweat and redness coating his skin.

it was cruel of him to send you such a selfie, turning you into a needy mess with something as simple as that. you had to write a paper—and now was not the time for him to be plaguing your thoughts. you managed to write most of it, in between thoughts of his strong arms and sculpted chest. in between thoughts of lining his skin with kisses and hearing his moans.

it was evening now, and minho was due home any minute—your excitement to see him growing to the point you checked your phone three times in four mintues just waiting for his arrival time to show up on your phone.

the sound of keys in the door brought you to your feet, rushing towards your boyfriend.

“hi jagi,” he smiled at you, leaning closer to kiss your cheek sweetly. “how are you?”

“horny,” you blurted out. you quickly gasped, covering your mouth with both your hands. minho raised an eyebrow at you, a one sided smirk sitting proudly on his face.

“i’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “it’s just—well, no never mind! did you eat?”

minho chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him.

“i did. why are you horny?” his hands slipped underneath your shirt, the one you took from his side of the closet, trailing his fingers across your skin.

“your selfie..” you admitted, sheepishly.

“i sent you that in the morning,” he states, “been that way all day?”

“no!” you quickly shake your head. minho pulled you closer, your hands having no choice but to rest on his firm chest. your fingers splayed across his tight shirt, feeling the thick muscles beneath the fabric. you let out softly that, “i wrote my paper.”

“good job,” he smiled at you, kissing your lips softly.

you smile back at him before you let him pull you in for another kiss.

you wrap your hands behind his neck, feeling around his shoulders as you do, and if you’ve moaned just a little at the touch you’ll just blame it on minho’s tongue against yours.

you let him move you around, fingers digging into your waist as you both blindly make your way to the couch. you feel the couch against your legs and minho softly lowers you onto the cushions, kissing around your jaw as he climbs on top of you.

you let him settle between your legs, sucking the skin on your neck while you run your hands up and down his firm back. feeling the way his muscles contract as he leans most of his weight on his arms and not you. with how strong he’s gotten lately you’re sure it’s not even that hard for him now. the thought makes your heart skip a small beat.

it’s when minho rolls his hips against yours, biting on your collarbone softly, that you realise this isn’t what you wanted. this isn’t what you’ve been fantasising about all day.

you push at his shoulders, causing him to look up at you with his big round eyes. they sparkle up at you, like they always do, before a question starts swimming in them.

“this okay?” he asks, bottom lip slightly pouted in confusion. his front teeth are more noticeable that way, when he’s a little confused, and you can’t understand how someone can be so hot and so cute at the same time. it makes you want to devour him.

“it is, min—“

“but,” he concludes from your tone, lifting himself up so your crotches are no longer touching. you can see his arms tensing as he does.

“there was something i wanted to do, if you don’t mind, i know you like taking control so it’s okay if—“ you can’t say more once minho kisses your cheek, ever so softly, and all you can do is sigh at your own rambling.

“what was it you wanted, jagi?” he asks softly, humming as his eyes search yours. a warmth covers your chest you aren’t too sure is appropriate for just how wet you are—but minho has always had that kind of effect on you.

“wanted to ride you, min,” you let out quietly.

he lets out a small chuckle, humming as he nods his head softly. “we can do that.”

“if it’s okay?” you ask, eyes wide and eager.

“i mean if you absolutely insist,” he rolls his eyes, smiling wide at you.

you scoff at him, shaking your head before you watch minho settle himself on the couch, patting his thick thighs in invitation.

you quickly climb onto his lap, settling in as minho slaps your ass lightly.

“i love watching you on top of me, you know,” he smiles, moving your hair behind your ears. he settles his hand on your ass, squeezing lightly, “and i can do this as much as i want.”

“you have a problem,” you giggle at him, rolling your eyes at his undeniable obsession.

“now you tell me all the reasons you love riding me,” he grins, much like a cheshire cat, as he rubs your hip with his other hand.

“well,” you start, running your hands across his chest, “i get to admire your body and all your hard work.” he hums in acceptance. you move your hands to his arms, up and down his biceps before you settle on his shoulders, “i love how strong your shoulders are, how i can put my whole weight on them.”

minho blinks at you a few times, nodding along as he eagerly waits to hear more. the hand once on your hip has now moved to your lower stomach, tracing back and forth over the hem of your pants.

“from this angle your cock reaches so deep inside me, too,” you say lowly, and minho ears turn a deeper shade of red than they were before, “i get to feel you so so deep, min.”

“i love how your tits look when you’re bouncing on top of me,” he says, trailing one finger from the hem of your shorts to your clothed pussy.

“i love when you slap my ass as i’m riding you,” you let out, breathing heavily.

minho laughs, squeezing your ass firmly. “i knew you like it when i touch your ass.”

“i never said i didn’t,” you defend.

“you like it when i touch you here, too?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised as he rubs two fingers over your pussy—finding the exact spot easily. you nod quickly. “should i keep going? or do you need my cock already?”

“need it, min,” you groan, “need you inside me. now.”

after a bit of fumbling around and some uncoordinated kicking you’re both naked, and you quickly climb back into minho’s lap.

now that his shirt is thankfully far far away from him, you take a moment to stop and stare. shamelessly drinking him in. you squeeze his shoulders before trailing down to his arms and then you run your hands over his chest, down his stomach, across the dip from his chest to his waist.

you can feel minho watching you, but you’re far too distracted by the sight of him to feel ashamed. he’s yours, after all, and taking a moment to appreciate what’s yours should be allowed.

however, there’s a want inside you you aren’t able to ignore, and so you lean forward and press slow open mouthed kisses onto his chest, fingers splayed on his waist. you suck on the skin, too taut to move, and bite lightly before you move on to the next bit of skin. kissing everywhere you can reach, taking your time now that minho’s finally here.

you let your hands wander, let yourself feel the warm and soft skin of his stomach, the way it sends shivers down your wrist.

“jagi,” he sighs as you start sucking a few centimetres away from his nipple, “jagiya, let me feel you.”

“i’m here,” you remind him, bringing his hand into your hair. he cups your head, sighing as moved down slightly to suck on a new piece of skin.

“need your pussy, baby, please,” he moans, as you softly rub your hand against his pec, lightly tracing his nipple.

you can’t deny him, and the emptiness inside you is starting to ache, so you quickly grab him by the base as you line him up to your entrance.

you slowly sink down, feeling his cock stretch you out until you’re pressed flush against his thighs. the pair of you moan loudly at the feeling.

“god,” he lets out, hugging you closer to him. minho buries his face in your chest, breathing you in. “you’re so warm.”

“i’m so needy, min,” you chuckle, wrapping an arm around his beautiful back. “i want you so bad.”

minho thrusts upwards at your words, a small squeak like noise escaping you. he repeats his actions, over and over, barely letting himself pull out and focusing only on pushing in deeper.

he’s deep inside you, so deep you can feel a tingling in your neck, and all you can do is moan as minho takes control of the pace.

you can barely feel your thighs but you try as much as you can to meet his thrusts, leaning heavily on his shoulders as you push up and down.

the way his cock stretches you isn’t something you’re used to it, despite the many months you two have been together, and everytime minho fucks you like this you can feel it all the way to your toes.

you aren’t even sure your eyes are open but when they are, all you can see is minho’s sparkling brown eyes—looking so enamoured by you it makes you want to cry.

“min, s-so good, so good like-like this,” you let out in between punctuated breaths.

“giving you what you wanted, yeah?” he groans out, words light and breathless, “riding my cock like you wanted, jagi.”

“you always give me what i want, min,” you try your best to say, “always fuck me so good.”

you squeeze his shoulder tightly, supporting yourself as your thighs start to ache from the repeated bouncing. but the way his cock brushes against your soft spot makes it too hard to stop—the feeling so exhilarating you can only moan each time it happens.

you look down at where your bodies are connected, watching as your wetness glistens on his beautiful thighs.

you bring your hand to his chest, cupping his side as you rub across the few marks you’ve managed to leave behind. you smile softly at them before tracing the natural line between his pec and his stomach—much more prominent now he’s grown more muscles.

“had to mark me up, huh?” minho chuckles as he follows your line of sight.

“you’re mine,” you say before thinking, “wanted to mark what’s mine.”

at that minho picks up his pace as he brings his hand between your bodies, pressing on your clit lightly.

“keep talking like that and i’ll cum inside you, baby,” he moans.

“you’re fucking mine, minho,” you say, kissing him messily, “you’re so beautiful and it’s all mine.”

minho’s fucking you so fast and so hard, you fall forward, burying your face in his neck as you feel his release spilling inside you—minho moaning loudly in your ear. he stops for only a second to catch his breath before rubbing your clit just as fast, encouraging you sweetly as he says, “go on, baby, cum for me.”

your whole body shakes with it and you grab minho’s arms for stability, feeling them flex in your hold from his exertion. then, your vision starts blurring for a moment or two, your orgasm hitting you at full force. it’s sweet and so good with minho still buried inside you, your walls squeezing around his thick cock.

minho groans into your chest, kissing messily against your skin as he lets you ride out your high for a few more minutes.

once you exhale heavily, the fluttering of your walls relaxing, minho looks up at you with a lazy smile.

“you’re incredible,” he decides.

you giggle at him, kissing him firmly on the mouth. “so is your personal trainer.”

minho groans, rolling his eyes before he lets his head rest against the back of the couch. “please don’t take his side. one day he’ll end up killing me and then you’ll regret this.”

“you’re so dramatic, min,” you chuckle at him.

he hums in agreement, his lips a firm line as he nods. “i’m yours, though. you even said so,” he points out, a childish glint in his eyes.

“yes, and i think your cum inside me is further proof,” you scrunch your nose at him. minho groans softly, and you feel his cock bouncing lightly inside you. you can’t help but laugh.

you slowly run your nail across one of the marks you’ve left sitting proudly on his chest, smiling at your little creation.

“should i feed you now or are you gonna stare at my chest some more?” he eventually snaps you out of your minho induced daze.

“can you cook shirtless?” you raise your brows hopefully.

“that’s probably against some health and safety regulation, but if that’s what you want,” he kisses your forehead lightly before tapping your hip in a silent request to get up.

minho quickly grabs something for the mess, cleaning up the couch and your thighs before he gets you a change of clothes. he doesn’t bother wearing a shirt, as per your request, while he finds something quick to cook for you—insisting on feeding you before you get too sleepy.

minho let’s you run your hands all over his chest as he works, attached to him from behind as you kiss his strong back muscles. he doesn’t complain, not at all, and twists his head to meet yours every few minutes—pillowy lips puckered up dramatically in a silent beg for kisses.

you, of course, happily oblige. you’d give minho whatever he wants.

#all.works #minho x you #lee minho smut #minho x reader #minho smut #lee minho x reader #minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids smut #kpop smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader

[mykoreanlove]

just another day at the dorms - minho version

“Where is she? Where is y/n?” Minho searched the dorms frantically, ravaging everything in his way.

You were about to leave for the night, eager for your first real blind date. Dating was still forbidden, so you had to be sneaky which made the whole thing even hotter.

Your hand was already on the door handle but before you could open it you felt yourself getting yanked to the side. His lips crushed onto yours without a word, forcefully dancing with your tongue. You didn’t need an introduction though; you would have recognized Minho in every universe.

His hands travelled down your body, kneading, and groping his favorite parts. He lifted you up and walked both of you towards his room – not breaking the kiss even once. You felt yourself falling on his big bed, he was attached to you like glue.

“Don’t leave me y/n, please. Don’t ever leave me.”

Minho thrusted onto you, showing you exactly just how much he needed you. Your clothes were gone seconds after and you found yourself on top of him, taking him all in as you circled your hips around his dick.

“Mmhmm, my kitty cat is doing such a good job”, he hummed in pleasure.

He was right, you did a very good job – at fucking a taken man.

You threw your head back, intensifying the rhythm of your circles as he sucked on your perky tits forcefully. “Fuck, kitty, this is gonna bruise tomorrow”, he smirked.

You slung your arms around him and whispered in his ear: “This is the last time, Min. I’m ditching my date for you and you better-“, your speech got cut off by your moans, as he was thrusting from underneath you, hitting all the right spots.

“You were saying?”, he retorted. You grabbed his full hair and pulled his head back; you had him looking up to you now. “Don’t play with me, Min. I mean it.”

Before you could even blink, he spun you around, making you lay on your belly as he was thrusting into you from behind. His sweaty body lay on yours, his heaviness pushing you into the soft mattress. You felt his hot breath on your ear as he whispered: “But I like playing with you the most, kitty.”

Minho raised his upper body and started leaving kisses all over your backside – starting from the neck and working his way down to your ass. “God, you are perfect, y/n”, he hummed in appreciation. Minho spanked your ass before thrusting the hardest, making you see stars for a minute. He emptied himself inside of you and collapsed on your back.

“Sorry about your date.”

You sighed into the fluffy cushions. “What about your girlfriend, Min? Are you even sorry for her?” He nodded his head, still buried in your neck. “I am. But I can’t help it. She is not-“, he paused.

“What? Giving you attention? Fucking you properly? Caring about you?”

Minho got off of you and rolled on his side. He caressed your face with the palm of his hand, he was in total agony of your beauty. “She’s not seeing me for who I am. To her I am Minho, the idol, the perfect guy. I am up on a pedestal in her mind. She really has no idea who I am. Who I really am.”

You frowned at his explanation. Ever since you met him you were very well aware of his flaws – he had anger issues, he rarely flossed, he could be too cold at times, he loved cats more than humans, he left his damp towels all around the dorms and got impatient when you messed up his choreographies.

How peculiar to think that he, or anybody really, would be perfect.

“But you, y/n”, he inhaled deeply, “you are different.” His fingers brushed your lips, making him inhale in anticipation. “Different how?” He got up and towered over you, his body only inches away from yours. The silver chain around his neck fell right in between your cleavage, making you squirm at the coldness of the metal.

“You”, he kissed your swollen lips,

“see”, another one on your left cheek,

“me”, followed by a kiss on the right cheek,

“for”, a kiss on the nose,

“who”, followed by a kiss on your temple.

“You are”, you whispered in realization. He smirked and crushed his lips onto yours again, for the second but not last time that night.  

#mykoreanlove #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz x reader #stray lex you #skz lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho #stray kids x you #lee minho x y/n #lee know scenarios #lee know angst #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee know fluff #skz smut #skz lee know #skz minho #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids minho #stray kids x stay #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic

[sunboki]

merry christmas to everyone that celebrates! gonna drop this off…

what about dad! minho baking cinnamon rolls with his little girl. PLEASE.

it’d be a lazy morning, a day he finally got to take work off and spend time with the two loves of his lives. of course, his baby wakes up just as early as he does — both of them nearly cracking up while trying to carefully tip toe out of your room without waking you up.

while Minho ties the apron around his waist, he turns around, met with the cutest sight of his daughter surrounded by kitties, Soonie and Doongie purring their delight as the toddler giggles.

he’d scoop her up in his arms, bringing her face up to his own to touch noses and hear that adorable laugh — just like yours.

her grabby hands too tempting to resist, he fastens the curious girl on his shoulders, humming the sweetest “Want Daddy to cook something?” to which she replies an eager “Cinammon rolls!”

And who is Minho to deny her of her precious cinnamon rolls?

So, the chef and his mini chef get to work, her fingers gently holding onto his hair as he maneuvers through the kitchen, hands periodically tapping her legs to ensure she’s safe (a habit).

Nevertheless, your heart utterly melts upon witnessing your husband gently teach her the ropes of making her favorite breakfast, answering all of her eager questions and reaching up here and there to pop a bit of the sugary goodness into her mouth.

Sure, there was doubt upon first starting a family, but as you watch, whether it’s how you can sense that newfound protectiveness he’s developed or the way he’s always interested in whatever she loves to do, there’s no other person who fit the role better.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #straykids fluff #skz fluff #leeknow fluff #leeknow angst #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #lee minho angst #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz x you #straykids x you #straykids x reader

[stayinlimbo]

love at your fingertips

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: established relationship, fluff disclaimers: tooth-rotting fluff, will (hopefully) make you smile, slight suggestiveness, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 681 note: i had this idea and just had to do it. i love love ♡

minho has never been good with words.

it’s a fact he’s had to accept throughout his entire life. sentences spew past his lips before he has time to process what he's saying and his mouth won’t form the intended words clawing at the back of his throat. his attempts at conveying emotions fall flat due to his dry tone of voice, the only noticeable tells articulated by his ever-changing demeanor. 

it must be ironic that he considers himself an extrovert. 

or maybe it isn’t, because although minho may not be able to express himself verbally in his native korean, he is fluent in the universal language of love through touch (as if his obsession of slapping his friends’ butts wasn’t proof enough). and now that you’re in his life, it has become one of his primary means of communication. 

“i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not when the simple brush of the back of his hand with yours hints at his affection for you before starting dating. not when he clasps your hand with his to carefully guide you through a crowded area, occasionally looking back to ensure you’re okay and always to be met with a smile that melts his heart.

he expresses it in the way he ruffles your hair when he stands behind your seated form on the couch, laughing as he defends himself against your playful swats. minho remains tied to you, playing with your fingers under the restaurant table when on a group date with your mutual friends.  

careful love as his hand presses against the small of your back, letting you walk slightly in front of him on the sidewalk at night, making sure you’re always in his line of sight. 

passionate love as he pushes you against the bedroom door, the grip on your hips tightening when your mouth detaches from his and trails down to his neck. he radiates it through the act of intertwining his fingers with yours by your head as he pants into your ear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your temple, a silent thank you for vulnerability you’ve never hesitated to unveil for him. 

unconditional love when he pulls you in for a firm embrace after one of the worst arguments the two of you have ever had in your relationship. his thumbs wipe your tears away, an unspoken apology for making you cry. 

it’s the love minho knows will be there when he wakes up in the morning as he stretches his hand out towards the middle of the bed, close to where your half-asleep figure peacefully lays. 

it’s the love he knows is reciprocated, for you speak the language of love too. 

minho hears it, sees it, in the way you took his shy hand in yours, intertwining them together with a beam on your face at the way his face flushed from your confident action, and it’s the way your fingertips dig into his shoulders, kneading away the tense muscles after a stressful day. 

you make his annoyance at the world disappear when your fingers card through his wet hair, creating spiky towers pointing in every direction that he can’t help but laugh at himself at how ridiculous he looks (yet never smooths them back down unless you do it for him). 

it’s your careful love too, existing in the lip tint you applied on him transferring onto your lips as you tilt his head and pull him in for a sweet kiss. it’s worth the smudged kiss stains adorning his face when he sees you admiring your work, squishing his cheeks together because he’s just “so cute.”

you love every extension of him, including his cats that yowl and parade around your feet until you give them all equivalent attention with gentle pets. 

love is imbued in your touch, even when you’re half-asleep, yet still reach out to meet his open palm to loosely interlace your fingers.

no, “i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not if it’s with you.

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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz x reader #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #skz fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids #kpop imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stayinlimbo

[dreaming-medium]

Thanksgiving With You

Relationship: Lee Minho x reader

Tags: Pure fluff

Summary: Your plans to go home to America for Thanksgiving are uprooted the night before you're supposed to leave. Unable to stand seeing you upset, Minho decides to take matters into his own hands and make sure you get to celebrate no matter what.

------------------------------------------

The TV was on in the shared apartment, all of the boys were laying all over the couches in various comfy positions. Legs tangled up in knots, blankets draped over different laps. 

Living in the same building as one another definitely had its perks, that’s for sure. Even if everyone starts their days in their own apartments, by dinner time, everyone congregates to one. 

Today, you and Minho’s apartment was the lucky winner.

When you answered a roommate ad two years ago, you didn’t know it would come with seven other men on top of that. But, you wouldn’t change anything that’s happened since then.

Felix’s head rests on Hyunjin’s lap while he plays on his phone with Changbin watching over his shoulder. Seungmin takes up two seats while Jeongin sits on the ground next to his legs. Minho is lounging in the corner seat of the couch, Chan on his left, Jisung on his right. 

For the first time, they’re all silent. Each of their conversations were cut short when a news broadcast cut through the movie they were “watching”.

A female news anchor sat behind a desk looking directly into the camera. 

“We interrupt your program with a breaking news report from The National Weather Service. Please be advised that there is extreme adverse weather expected to affect Seoul beginning tomorrow. All airports, roads, and businesses will remain closed starting tomorrow, November 22nd, until further notice.”

Normally, none of the boys would care about a storm. This meant time off from work, time to relax and stay inside while everyone gets some much needed rest but…

“Minho!” your voice calls out into the living room. Your roommate perks up off the couch, tearing his eyes away from the news broadcast. “Can I borrow your neck pillow? I’m going to need it for the flight. Sixteen hours on the plane is going to be killer without it.”

His jaw clenches and he looks around at the other boys on the couch who all have equally flustered expressions. They each stare at one another like deer in headlights. 

“Ah,” he hums and looks around the room. 

Oh, you were so excited to go home for Thanksgiving, how was he going to tell you that the airport is closed due to the incoming storm? Why does he have to be the one to break the news to you? 

The news anchor continues talking about the snowstorm, predicting record levels of snowfall and high speed winds. 

All month, all you could talk about was how much you missed Thanksgiving: the turkey, the parade, the pie, everything. 

He didn’t really understand it.

“Minho?” You ask again when he doesn’t answer. Your figure appears in the doorway into the living room. 

As soon as you stand in front of all of them, their heads snap towards you.

Your eyes widen, obviously startled. “Guys?” You ask, laughing nervously. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Felix moves a bit, his mouth opening to say something before the news anchor cuts him off again. 

“Again, we repeat the broadcast:  Please be advised that there is extreme adverse weather expected to affect Seoul beginning tomorrow. All airports, roads, and businesses will remain closed starting tomorrow, November 22nd, until further notice.”

Your mouth drops open and you step further into the room to look at the TV. 

“What?” You say to yourself, your heart dropping to your stomach. Everyone else’s does as well from your devastated tone.

Chan reaches forward with the remote, turning the volume up for you to hear. 

“No, no…” you whisper.

Minho watches you, feeling his own heart break for you. 

“M-Maybe I can book a flight for tonight. The storm starts tomorrow, maybe I can get out at the last minute.” You practically run back to your room, frantically looking for your phone. 

All of the boys stay silent. 

Apple pie this, mashed potatoes that, homemade pineapple … something. Minho couldn’t remember what you had said. You would always talk too fast when you were excited. 

It only got harder for him to understand when you would go into English. 

On top of all of this, you haven’t been back to America since you moved here two years ago. It was going to be your first time home.

You were just so busy when you started your new job that there was never any time to take off. 

And now that you finally could? It’s falling through your fingers. 

“Such a shame…” Hyunjin is the first one to break the silence. His voice carries the same sadness that they all hold on their shoulders. 

Minho keeps looking down the hall where your room is, hoping to try and hear anything— any news of an earlier flight, a phone call, anything. 

Only a few moments pass before Minho gets too antsy to sit still. He stands up from the couch and makes his way down the hallway. 

Your door is cracked open a bit. 

When he gets closer, he hears you on the phone. “N-No, you don’t understand, I was going home for the holidays— Yes… Yes I understand that everyone else is too, b-but I haven’t been home in two years.”

You sound so heartbroken, it’s physically killing him. 

“There are no open seats? ….. the 5:30 flight? That’s in… that’s in ten minutes I live forty minutes away from the airport!”

Minho leans against the wall behind him, your open door to his left. 

“There’s nothing else? … No, I understand. Thank you very much for your time... You as well.”

There’s a long moment of silence and a thump against your mattress. 

Ten more seconds pass before he hears hiccups and sniffles coming from inside your room. That’s when Minho caves in, coming up to your door frame. 

He can never withstand hearing you cry, on the rare occasions that you do.

You look so small curled up on the edge of your bed, your head in your hands. Your suitcase is open on top of your bed with various clothes and toiletries all over the place. 

Your shoulders shake as you sob quietly into your hands. 

A frown pulls at his face. Minho reaches up and knocks gently on the doorframe. 

Your head shoots up in surprise, hands furiously wiping away the tears under your eyes. 

“Oh, hey Minho!” You try to smile, but the tears won’t stop, but you continue wiping them away. “Sorry, um… I don’t think I need your neck pillow after all.”

A sob wracks your chest. 

“Sorry,” you apologize again and wipe the tears some more. 

His frown depends and he walks over to the bed, taking a seat directly next to you. 

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N.” 

You sniffle and look down at your lap, the sleeves of your sweater coming over your hands. “It’s dumb to be this upset, I know. I was just really looking forward to Thanksgiving, you know?”

His entire side is pressed against yours. His warmth seeps into you in a comforting manner. 

Minho listens to you carefully. He’s never been the best at comforting a crying person, he knows that, but he’s learned that all you ever crave when you’re upset is someone to listen. 

“We have this tradition in my family, god, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do it,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “We wake up around nine, and my sister and I make cinnamon rolls and watch the Macy’s parade from New York while we eat them. Then, while we get ready we watch the National dog show and ugh…” 

He leans back on one of his hands placed behind you on your bed. The cogs in his brain are already turning. 

Cinnamon rolls… Parade…

“God, I really missed my mom’s Pecan Pie.”

“Pecan Pie.” Minho mouths to himself. You don’t see it. 

You sniffle. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, his hand coming up to rub your back gently. 

“It’s alright, there’s always Christmas. The airline said they can move my ticket without me losing money. I guess it’s better to go then.” You hum and wipe the tears off your face again. 

Not knowing what else to say, Minho stays quiet, his hand continuing to rub up and down your spine. 

He knows next to nothing about Thanksgiving; it’s an American holiday. All he knows are the little things he’s seen in movies: turkey, hats with buckles on them, eating until you explode. 

What parade did you say? Macy’s Parade? Okay…

Minho loses track of how long you both sit there, you trying to pull yourself together while he rubs your back. 

His eyes dart around the floor unfocused as he makes a mental checklist in his head. He’s definitely going to need to employ the help of the seven other men in his living room if he hopes to pull this off. 

“Thank you, Minho.” Your voice pulls his attention. He looks over at your face, hand pausing between your shoulder blades. 

Your eyes are red rimmed and cheeks are rosy from all your crying. A sad smile sits on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responds, getting a bit flustered under your gaze. 

You move your head to rest on his shoulder, like second nature, his arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you close. 

Butterflies swirl in his stomach at the contact. Yes, you’re his roommate, but it was in the last six months or so that his heart started seeing you as so much more. 

It all started with you cooking his favorite dinner when you knew he had just had one of the worst days of his life. 

He had texted you around noon complaining about the rough day he was having, you consoled him shortly, and that was that. 

The day had dragged on, getting worse and worse; he opened the door to your shared apartment around midnight to find you moving around the kitchen. 

When he peered over your shoulder and saw his favorite meal, his heart melted. 

“To cure your bad day,” you smiled at him. 

He fell so hard for you, there was no coming back.  

Minho turns his head to rest his chin on the crown of your hair. 

“Well, I have off work; maybe I can take the day to catch up on a project without being bothered to join meetings.” You trail off. 

“Or you could take the day to relax.” He chuckles. 

You pause. “Nah.”

He laughs again and hugs you close. 

“I better unpack everything.” You peel yourself out of his arms. Minho’s body already feels so much colder without you pressed against him. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” Minho stands up from your bed and makes towards the door. 

“Minho,” you grab his attention. He turns back to look at you. 

You’re smiling at him again, but the sparkle is missing from your eyes. 

“Thank you, really.” 

“Of course, Y/N.”

Minho pulls your door closed behind him and makes his way down the hall. He has a mission and a checklist. 

And he needed to get to the grocery store tonight if he wanted to pull it off.

----------------------------------------------

Three quick knocks rap against your door at 9:00 AM sharp on November 23rd. 

With a disgruntled groan, you shift around in bed and pull the blankets up over your shoulder more. 

After a few seconds, the door cracks open slowly, the hinges creaking loudly in the silent morning air. 

A huff-like laugh forced through the invader’s nose. 

Slippers pad against the carpet of your room and the mattress dips down on the side of your bed. 

Gentle, warm fingers push your hair off your forehead. Your eyes squint a bit and you snuggle further into your blanket. 

“Minhooo…” you whine without opening your eyes. “I have the day off, remember? I don’t need to wake up.”

“Ah,” he hums, fingers still carding through your hair. “But the parade is on.”

Your brain is still booting up. All your movements pause, your eyes snap open and you look at the man sitting on the side of your bed. 

He’s in his cooking apron; the blue one you got him for his birthday last year. 

“What?”

That smirk of his spreads over his face, his eyes squint the more he smiles down at you. “The parade is on, Y/N, don’t you want to watch it?”

With wide eyes, you stare at your roommate. “The.. parade? The Macy’s Day Parade?”

He hums with a beautiful, genuine smile. “I didn’t think you wanted to miss it.”

You sit up and kick the blankets off, leaping out of bed and down the hallway. Minho’s laughter follows you. 

Sure enough, playing on your TV, is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, from New York City. 

“Wha…” you trail off. If it’s 9 AM here… it’s only 7 PM the night before Thanksgiving in New York, how is he…?

Your eyes scan the TV to see the small graphic that displays “2022” in the corner. 

He’s playing a recorded broadcast of last year's parade. A laugh of disbelief bubbles out of your chest and you whirl around to look at your roommate standing in the hallway. 

“Minho!” You squeal. 

“We still have to bake cinnamon rolls, come on.” He waves you to follow him to the kitchen. Your jaw drops and you can only stare at him. 

Minho looks over his shoulder and sees you’re not following him. “Are you coming? I’m not baking them by myself!”

Another snort of disbelief forces its way out. Your one hand reaches over and pinches your arm. 

“No, I’m awake,” you whisper to yourself. 

The sound of the parade announcers talking in their thick New York accent makes you feel right at home. There was a specific sound quality of audio that comes from these events and it brings you right back to the East Coast. 

Minho walks into the kitchen and you follow after him with an extra spring in your step. 

———————————————

“And here comes Snoopy and his good friend Woodstock!”  The TV announcer says happily. 

You take another bite of your cinnamon roll, chewing happily and watching the TV. Doongie  curled up next to you, tail swishing around. 

Minho can’t decide what he wants to watch more: you or the TV. You’re positively beaming, and he hasn’t even told you the best part yet. 

He scratches Soonie’s head absentmindedly.

There’s a couple knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Minho calls out. 

The door creaks open. “Minho, your timer went off. I think you need to baste the turkey.”

Your head whips around to see Felix poking his head into the apartment. He makes eye contact with you and his smile brightens instantly. 

“Hi, Y/N! Happy Thanksgiving!” Felix chirps from the door. 

“Thank you?” 

Minho stands up off the couch, “Thanks, Felix, I’ll be right over.”

“Gotcha, see you soon, Y/N!” Felix closes the door behind him. 

You look up at Minho. “Turkey? You’re making a turkey?”

He stands in front of you and smiles. “I am, you can’t have Thanksgiving dinner without turkey, right?”

“You– Are we..?”

“We are. But not until after the parade, and the dog show, of course. I told everyone to come around 2:00, that works, right?”

You stare up at him, cinnamon roll still in your hand. 

“Y… Yeah, that works.” You truly cannot believe your ears. Are you sure you’re not still sleeping? Do you need to pinch yourself again?

“Good, I’ll be right back.”

Minho moves past you towards the door, scratching your head a few times as he passes by. You make no move to fix your hair after he leaves. 

Slowly, you take another bite of the roll, eyes spacing out watching the parade. 

Inside your chest, you can feel your heart stutter and swell, heat rising to your cheeks and turning your ears red. He’s really doing so much for you, isn’t he?

----------------------------------------------

“Y/N! Come on out, Chan and Jisung are here and Jeongin needs help with the mashed potatoes!” Minho calls down the hall. 

Like a kid on Christmas, you peel down the hall, adjusting the earring you’re wearing. 

You’re in a black turtleneck tucked into a cute light brown pencil skirt with black tights and fuzzy socks. The most typical Thanksgiving outfit. 

Your favorite jewelry adorning your body. 

The four boys turn around and greet you happily. Each of them in their own fuzzy sweaters and comfy pants. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” They all say to you in unison. 

“Ah, happy Thanksgiving!” You cheer back and wrap Jisung and Chan into a tight hug since they were the closest. “Thank you so much for this!”

Both of them wrap an arm around you with giddy smiles. “It was all Minho’s idea,” says Chan. “If you wanna thank anyone, thank him.”

“Or you could help, instead.” Minho teases from behind the kitchen counter, sliding over a can of cranberry sauce.

“Oh my god!” You squeal and come around to grab it. “Where did you find this? I didn’t think any stores in Korea sold this!”

Minho hums happily and stirs a pot on the stove. “There’s an American store a few blocks away. It’s where I got most of the groceries for today.”

A timer beeps at the same time the door swings open. 

“Hot bird coming through!” Felix calls into the room. “I have a turkey too!”

Everyone gives Felix a pity laugh as briskly walks towards the kitchen and places the cooked turkey onto the counter. The smell that wafts through the house is heavenly. 

Jisung hands you a glass of sangria with a wink. You clink glasses and take a small sip. 

Changbin walks through the door after Felix, holding a stack of about three pies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” he calls inside as he kicks his shoes off.

Everyone responds with the same greeting. 

 “Minho, where do you want desserts?” 

“Just put them on the side by the main table for now!”

There’s more hustle and bustle next to you while Jisung attempts to use the can opener for the cranberry sauce. 

“Y/N, could you help me? I don’t think I’ve ever made mashed potatoes before…” Jeongin trails off in front of a pot of boiled potatoes. 

You beam at him and skip over to his side. “I absolutely can, it’s a lot easier than you think!”

Chan walks over to the living area with the couches. 

“What do you usually have on the TV at home?” he calls in to you.

You’re dumping all of the potatoes into a mixing bowl while you answer him. “Typically, my dad commandeers the TV and has football playing all day, but I really don’t want to watch old football reruns.”

Jeongin watches over your shoulder as you shake the bowl to settle the potatoes. “Could you grab the butter and milk from the fridge?” You ask him and he nods and walks off.

Seungmin comes in with Hyunjin, both of them holding trays of food.

You greet the two of them happily.

While Jeongin is gathering the ingredients from the fridge, you take a moment to look around at all of the boys in your apartment. 

They must have looked up ‘What to wear to Thanksgiving’; each of them is in a sweater and dress pants. Some of them have turtlenecks underneath the sweater, some don’t, but they all look like the same font as one another. 

“What can I do to help?” Seungmin asks, him and Hyunjin further crowding the kitchen.

“Go set the table with Hyunjin.” Minho points to the long dining room table, shooing them out of the already small space. Plates, napkins, forks, knives, glasses– everything you can think of, is placed on the corner of the table in stacks and piles.

“I’ll help too!” Felix chirps and makes his way over with the two men.

“Y/N!” Changbin calls your attention. Both him and Chan have beer bottles in their hands, bodies facing the TV. The two of them look like dads with the way they’re standing. “What about a Christmas movie? Is that allowed on Thanksgiving?”

Jeongin plops the milk and butter on the counter next to you. 

You call back into the living room. “Yeah, that’s fine! But make it a good one– a classic! Oh! What about Christmas Vacation? That’s my favorite!”

“I’ll find it, don’t worry!” Chan responds. 

Another timer beeps, Minho opens the oven and pulls out a tray full of fresh rolls. Jisung finally wrestles the can of cranberry sauce open. 

Your heart grows three sizes. 

“Ten more minutes on the Pineapple Bake.” Minho says to himself but you hear it.

Your head snaps around so fast it might tumble off your shoulders. “Pineapple Bake? You made Pineapple Bake?”

A flush crawls up Minho’s neck to his ears when he turns and meets your sparkly eyes. 

“You had mentioned it…” he trails off and finds something else on the counter to fidget with.

“How did you get the recipe?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I have your mother’s number from when you first moved in and all.”

“You texted my mom?”

“Is that alright?”

The hustle and bustle of the seven other bodies around your apartment fades into the background. Even with Jeongin standing directly next to you, he seems to disappear. 

“You texted my mom and asked for her Pineapple Bake recipe?” You choke out again, your eyebrows raising, lips parting in an emotionally shocked expression.

Minho visibly gets a bit more nervous at your repeated question. His jaw clenches and he plays with the tie of the apron. “Did I overstep?”

Without any warning, you cross the few steps of the kitchen towards him and throw your arms around your roommate, burying your face into his shoulder. Small tears of joy well in the corners of your eyes, throat constricting with so many emotions.

After a moment of hesitation, Minho wraps his arms around you and rests his cheek on top of your hair. 

“Thank you, Minho,” you whisper to him, squeezing him even tighter. 

Minho’s shoulders visibly react from your hug, relaxing from the tension of the past few moments. 

He smells like the holidays, the softness of his sweater is so comforting against your cheek. You just want to bury your nose in it and drown in the scent.

“This means so much to me.” Your words are so sincere, he could cry from hearing them. His arms tighten around you, eyes closing to relish in your hold.

He basks in it. Despite a third timer screaming in his ear, he continues to hold you like if he let go, you would disappear forever.

Having you in his arms like this has always been the equivalent of drinking warm tea before bed. It sends a wave of comfort and safety through his entire being.

The timer continues to beep.

“You can thank me after you eat.” 

You giggle, any sadness he’s ever felt disappears for a split second.

Hyunjin calls into this kitchen. “Can you please turn that thing off before I go insane?”

Minho sighs, the air blowing into your hair. He keeps you close for a few more heartbeats before letting go.

“It’s time for dinner anyway.”

----------------------------------------------

Everyone was quiet, the TV still playing Christmas movies in the background. The streaming service that Chan had put on had autoplayed movie after movie while you ate dinner and then dessert.

The last surprise Minho had for you was that he also had asked your mother for her Pecan Pie recipe two nights ago. 

Everything about today left you floored and speechless. Your heart has never felt this full in your life. 

All eight of them sat around the table looking uncomfortably full. The table that was once filled with every side dish known to Thanksgiving enjoyers, every dessert you could dream of, was now littered with empty dishes. 

“We should just be thankful for being together. I think that’s what they mean by Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown.” Marcie’s animated voice rings through the apartment.

Again, your throat tightens up with so many happy emotions, you clench your jaw to keep them down.

From directly next to you, Minho must’ve noticed your expression, his hand reaching under the table and resting on your knee, squeezing it once to comfort you.

You look over at him.

His heart catches in his chest.

There’s that sparkle in your eyes. The one that disappeared two nights ago, he got it back. His entire face softens as he stares at you as if you hung the moon and vice versa.

“I need a nap,” Felix groans from his chair.

You hum and look over at him. He’s slumped in his seat, head back, eyes closed. 

“That’s the best part of Thanksgiving, sleeping with a full stomach.” You tell him.

“Full is an understatement.” Jeongin adds.

“I think I found a new favorite holiday…” Changbin trails off.

“Ditto,” adds Chan.

“Yeah? Well maybe we can have a Friendsgiving next year and do it all over again.” You tell the table.

Minho groans. “I’ll need more help next time, then!”

Everyone grunts in agreement.

You reach under the table and take a hold of Minho’s hand still on your leg. Your fingers wind together and you beam at him again with that dazzling smile. 

“I would do anything to do this again.”

----------------------------------------------

“I still can’t believe they took that many leftovers,” Minho mutters, dipping the sponge in the sink.

“I can’t believe we had that many leftovers.” You dry a dish with the towel and place it on the other clean ones. 

The exhaustion from eating is still heavy in your bones; but both you and Minho decided it was better to get all the washing out of the way so that you could just relax for the rest of the night.

It felt like you’ve been washing dishes for hours. 

Soft twinkling of Christmas music plays through the speakers of the TV from the movie. 

“Minho?” You ask suddenly, your voice is a bit weak and unconfident.

He looks over at you with his undivided attention, one eyebrow raised.

“There’s one more Thanksgiving tradition I didn’t tell you about.”

His eyebrows furrow more and he puts the dish down in the sink full of sudsy water. “What is it?”

Smiling, you put the towel down.

“Will you dance to Christmas music with me? To ring in the Holiday Season.”

Minho’s taken aback for a moment, he laughs– almost in disbelief. “Really?”

You bite your lip nervously, nodding once.

With a playful smile, he grabs the towel and dries his hands. “You want to dance? We can dance, Y/N.”

Squealing, you happily skip to the living room. “Alexa, play Christmas music!” You call out and she immediately begins to play music at the perfect volume.

Frank Sinatra’s ‘I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm’ plays through the speaker. The happy saxophones and trumpets blare and your spirits lift even more than you thought they could.

You bounce on your heels to the beat a few times, swaying with the rhythm in a silly way. 

When you turn around, you see Minho stepping towards you to the beat. One of the happiest looks ever on his face. His hair still slightly styled from this morning, just a bit more relaxed as the day went on.

His sweater is so cozy with a black turtleneck underneath, heather gray dress pants on the bottom. Lee Minho looks like the Holidays wrapped up in a warm, cable knit package, and he’s currently dancing towards you.

Once he is up on you, he takes your one hand and places the other on your waist. Both of you look like absolute goof balls, swaying and bobbing to the rhythm of Frank Sinatra in your living room. 

The scent of Thanksgiving dinner still hangs in the air; the warmth from the ovens and stove hasn’t faded one bit.

Minho leads you all around the living room in a beautifully clumsy dance. The smiles on your faces never drop, even for a moment. They only grow with each giggle passed from one to another.

His eyes stay locked with yours the entire time. Nothing could interrupt your moment,

You mouth the lyrics to him; it’s English, so he’s not really able to keep up as much. But the emotion is there. And just the idea that you’re singing to him makes his heart soar. 

“What do I care how much it may storm,” you sing, “I’ve got my love to keep me warm.”

Minho spins you around, you squeal with happiness with your arm above your head. He brings you back in and grabs your waist with both hands, lifting you into the air and twirling more as the music swells. You place both of your hands on his shoulders for balance.

He gently places you back on the ground, the song ending and fading into the next one. 

Michael Buble’s ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ follows it up. The rhythm of the song slows down the energy in the room dramatically.

Neither you nor Minho let go of one another. Instead of backing away, the two of you step even closer. Your arms wind around his neck, his hands interlock on your lower back.

Your eyes look all around his perfect face, meanwhile his stay locked on your eyes. He’s so enchanted by you, it feels like you placed him under some sort of spell.

If he could, Minho would do this entire day over and over again until he died, just to see this beautiful look in your eye each time, to hear your glee filled laughter after each surprise. 

Instead of moving around the room, the two of you simply sway side to side in time with the beat of the song. Minho spins the two of you very slowly in place.

A beautiful, festive, Christmas bubble begins forming around the two of you. 

“I cannot even begin to tell you how much today meant to me, Minho.” You break the silence between the two of you.

He chuckles. “I’m glad I was able to do it for you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever run to the store that fast in my life.”

Mirroring him, you laugh softly. “I can only imagine what you looked like trying to get everything together.”

He moves his head side to side. “I had a lot of help.”

You shake your head. “This was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You deserve it.”

Another laugh from you. He just watches you. He watches each emotion cross your face with such admiration, with such a fond, sweet gaze, it could rot your teeth. 

Piano keys tinkle in the music. Michael Buble’s smooth voice wrapping around your private bubble.

“I am endlessly thankful for you, Lee Minho.” 

His gaze softens even more. 

You’re his soft spot. You– beautiful, wonderful, joyous you– are Lee Minho’s weak point. 

Slowly, the swaying to the song begins to slow down as you both get lost within one another. Everything about the scene was like a movie, down to the storm swelling outside your window.

Minho’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second.

You grin. His heart thuds in his chest.

“I don’t suppose you got any mistletoe?” you ask cheekily.

His eyes widen for a second, but he quickly catches on to your joke. “That wasn’t on any of the Thanksgiving websites I found.”

“Oh well.”

Without another word, and with the goofiest of grins on both of your faces, you pull Minho in for a kiss. 

His entire world stops when his lips meet yours, everything pauses and the only thing that exists is you. Nothing else matters except for the girl in his arms.

The world could end right now and he would be the happiest man on Earth.

Both of his arms tighten around you, one hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling it softly. 

Your arms around his neck bring him even closer to you.

His kiss is everything, it’s sugar cookies rising in the oven, it’s a sunrise on the beach, it’s waking up to the smell of cinnamon rolls on Thanksgiving– everything.

It’s everything you’ve always needed. He is everything you’ve always needed.

Eventually, the two of you pull away from one another, but not without a last few stolen pecks on the other’s lips. 

The kisses end up short, you both keep smiling and pulling away, too happy to continue. 

Minho keeps his eyes closed, his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “I think I have a new favorite holiday.” Another peck to your lips. 

You giggle and kiss him again and again, “Me too, Lee Minho.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know drabble #lee minho x y/n #lee know reader insert #lee know fanfic #lee know is the definition of If He Wanted To He Would #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n

[f9clementine]

Enchanted to Meet You Masterlist

⋙ pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader

⋙ synopsis: When Minho is accidentally turned into a cat by his warlock roommate, he ends up in the home of a veterinarian student.

⋙ genre: non Idol au, college au, magic au, strangers to lovers.

⋙ rating: PG-13 (swearing tho)

⋙ status: COMPLETE

⋙ taglist: closed

⋙ dividers by @cafekitsune

[The Animal Farm] || [SKZ Coven]

『••✎••』 = written parts

00. preview

01. we don't talk about homeward bound

02. i tried my best. time for nap.

03. meow, asshole

04. because I'm a cat 『••✎••』

05. movie night. 『••✎••』

06. do you have a boyfriend?

07. i don’t like him.

08. just this one time. 『••✎••』

09. pick up the phone. 『••✎••』

10. the roommate situation

11. ...simp

12. I need a favor

13. no natural predators.

14. cute couple

15. i wish i knew 『••✎••』

16. two christmases 『••✎••』

17. the roommate situation pt 2 『••✎••』

18. shut in boyfriend

19. i like you

20. it's the little things 『••✎••』

21. everything out in the open『••✎••』

22. the amulet pt. 1 『••✎••』

23. the amulet pt.2 『••✎••』

24. the amulet pt. 3 『••✎••』

25. whatever you want [the end]

#stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #skz smau #lee minho #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know #enchanted to meet you smau