#lee minho stop being in my brain goddammit

[straykidsholicleigh]

Sit On My Face

Pairing: bf!minho x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: kissing, cunnilingus, face sitting, reader is kinda insecure? subby minho kind of lol, implied second round

a/n: I hate it but it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

important: this is a work of fiction. none of the characters act this way in real life.

credits: deviders by @not-the-herb-sage <3

The sound of the clock made you anxious, waiting for Minho to come home. He told you he'd be home soon and for you not to wait up, but he should know you better because now it's 1:36 am and he's still not home.

You sighed, getting up from the couch and making your way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As if on que, the sound of keys rattling and the squeaking of the door made you put your glass down, walking over to the front door to see Minho standing there. His expression was cold, his eyes dark as he pulled is jacket off and hung it on the rack.

You wanted to be mad at him. To scream at him and ask him why he came so late. But seeing his tired and sleepy face made you feel sorry for him. It was comeback season and you knew how serious the boys take it. Especially Minho when it comes to choreo, so you decided not to be mad at him.

“Sorry...” He mumbled, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and chugging it down. You sighed, sitting on top of the counter as you looked at him. “It's okay,” You said, smiling weakly. “Did you eat something? I can make you a ramyeon cup-” “No.” He simply said. He made his way over to you, caging you between the counter.

He brought his lips to your neck, inhaling and letting out a shaky sigh. “You smell so good,” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “New perfume?” You nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing him closer to you. “Versace bright crystal. Hyunjin recommended it.”

Minho chuckled dryly. “Cute. You smell heavenly.” You blushed, looking away to the side as Minho admired you. “Your so pretty.” He said, kissing down your neck.

He slowly unbuttoned your shirt, sucking purple and blue marks on your skin. “Min, I have work tomorrow.” You said, rubbing down his back as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Call in sick. I want you now.”

He attached his lips to your neck again, removing your bra and pulling it over your arms before discarding somewhere on the floor. He hastily grabbed a nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly as you let out little moans. Your hand got entangled in his long brown hair as you gently tugged on it.

“I love your hair Minho. So soft and smooth.” You sighed. Minho smiled, his mouth moving down as he kissed your ankle. “Thanks baby. If you really like it that much I'll keep it for longer.” You desperately nodded your head, moaning as he gave your nipple a squeeze.

He tapped your thigh to get you to move, which you did. Once you were off the counter, he picked you up and carried you to your shared bedroom, throwing you on the bed and attaching his mouth to your stomach, grabbing your boobs in his hands.

“Fuck, such pretty tits,” He grunted, slapping your right boob and pinching the nipple. He worked his way into getting your shorts off before taking your underwear into his mouth. He gently removed it before looking down at you with an eyebrow raised, your panties hanging from his mouth, showing off his cute bunny teeth.

He dropped it onto his hand and threw it on the floor, before hovering above you as his mouth moved closer to your neck.

“Sit on my face, darling?” He asked. You looked at him with wide eyes, looking down at his hard on. You weren't sure if you were ready to sit on his face.

You shook your head, hesitantly wrapping your hands around his neck. “I- I don't know Minho. W-what if I'm too heavy for you or I suffocate you? What-what if-” Minho cut you off by smashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was firm as you grabbed him by his hair, pulling him closer to you if that was even possible. He bit your bottom lip and you whimpered, letting him in your mouth as he explored your mouth with his tongue. He was the first to pull away, a string of saliva keeping you two together.

“You won't crush my face. Now be a good girl and do as I say, hmm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew he wouldn't do anything if you weren't comfortable with it. Minho was that type of person. You knew that if he sensed you didn't want to do it he wouldn't force you.

You nodded you head muttering a small "alright" before rolling over so you were on top of him. “That's my girl.” He smiled, looking at you as you pulled his shirt over his head, a blush appearing on your face. You let out a shaky sigh, positioning yourself over his mouth. You stayed there, not sure when to sit down exactly, just hovering above his mouth.

He started to grow impatient. “Just sit, love,” He tried, his voice desperate. You hesitantly sat down on his face, not to much and sighed as he licked your folds. You let your hands fall in front of you and grip the headboard.

“God, you taste perfect angel,” He moaned, sucking on your clit making you whine. He hooked his hands under your thighs, pulling them down so now you were actually sitting on his face properly. “Fucking keep it there, don't move.”

You let out little moans and whines as he feverishly sucked on your clit, lapping away at all your juices. You felt the knot inside you slowly building up, about to burst any second.

“M-min, c-” You couldn't even form proper sentences as you felt your whole body was on fire, sweat dripping down beneath the valley of your breasts and falling down onto your boyfriends face.

“Gonna cum?” He mumbled against your clit. “Cum baby, squirt all over my face. U-use me.” And use him you did.

You pathetically rutted against his mouth, like a dog in heat and pulled his hair to keep him in place. You were rough and Minho seemed to like it.

Your breathing became heavier, more sharp as you let out a silent scream, your juices splashing all over your boyfriends face and making a mess as he tried to lap it up. You really felt like you suffocated him now.

You legs shook as you gently got off of him and sat on his abs, about to apologize but stopped as you saw his face.

He looked fucked out, happy even as a lazy smile spread across his face, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Thank you...” he mumbled, you smiled leaning down and kissing along his jaw, smirking as you could finally take care of him the same way he always took care of you.

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©straykidsholicleigh (2024) – all rights reserved. reposting/copying of any kind is not allowed.

DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARISE, COPY & REPURPOSE.

[dalamjisung]

timeout ❁ lee minho

genre: fluff

word count: 2484

pairing: dancer!reader x lee minho

description: a timeout is not as bad as it seems.

It was supposed to be easy; up on four, down on six, pirouette on eight, and repeat. You almost had it, if not for the slight tumble in the end when you finished. You’d do every move perfectly until you had to come back from the pirouette, and then something would happen with one foot having to be behind the other and gravity would just basically grab you by the shoulders and pulls you down. It’s your third time falling when your instructor sighs and stops the music.

“That’s enough for today,” She says, disappointment clear on her face. Midterm presentations were coming up and if you didn’t have this trained to perfection, you knew it would be bad for her too. “Let’s pick up tomorrow. I need you to get that final step, Y/N. I meant it.”

“Let me try one more time,” You ask, and you are not sure if it the confidence in your voice or the desperation in your eyes that makes her smile and nod. 

Up on four. Down on six. Pirouette on eight. And. 

You make it. Your foot lands perfectly behind the other. It’s only a few seconds after, once your legs gives out because of a muscle spasm, that you feel the pain. Your ankle folds and your whole leg fails. 

“Y/N!”

Up to your feet on four. You lean on your instructor, tears spilling silently, as she calls for the medics in the building. 

You are in the ambulance on six; six minutes for them to get to you, which, having seen many of these accidents before, should’ve been a record time. They give up some painkillers a couple of minutes after, and everything is spinning on eight. 

You repeat the process until you are settled in your examination room; x-rays taken, ankle prodded, whispers exchanged. You were simply waiting for the bad news you’re sure were coming. The constant beep of your heartbeat in the monitor is the only thing keeping you grounded.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Up.

Beep. Beep. Down. 

Beep. Beep. Spin. 

And.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” You nod at the doctor, although you never open your eyes to see the face of bad news. “I’m sorry to tell your, Ms. Y/L/N, but you’ve ruptured your ligaments. Badly, I might add. You have to step away from dancing for now.”

Beep.

It’s been about two weeks since you hurt yourself and this is what happened, in a chronological orders: you were forced to drop your class, afraid that failing that class would mess up your GPA. You started counting the days until the month examination came around. You binge watched New Girl on Netflix and got to first name basis with the poor delivery boy that came over to give you your order of the day. Usually ice cream– vanilla, your favorite. 

Talking about ice cream, there you were, now binge watching Criminal Minds, waiting for the murderer to revel themselves when the buzzing of your intercom makes you jump out of the couch, luckily landing on your good leg. You jump your way to the door, and without a fail, there he is.

“Lee Minho!” You shout, throwing your arms up into the air and stepping aside so he can come in. This has been the set up since your first delivery; you’d open the door, he’d tell you that you shouldn’t be walking, and you’d let him in so that he could get you your spoon from the kitchen. 

Now, you weren’t stupid enough to let a completely stranger into your house, but this was not a stranger; you’ve seen him many times before during your dance classes. He was a dance major in your school, and this was his job. So you assumed it was safe enough to let him in your apartment for a few seconds.

“Got sit down,” He sighed, smiling nonetheless. “I’ll bring you the spoon, you brat.”

“A true hero,” You’d wink at him and laugh away to the couch. 

“Criminal Minds?” He squinted at the TV. “Finished New Girl, already?”

“Nah,” You shrugged grabbing the spoon he was extending to you. “It just got boring after Jess and Nick got together.”

“Oh my god, Y/N…” He rolled his eyes. “That’s not how binging a show works.”

“It is for me,” You mumble, savoring the coolness of the sweet in your mouth. “Hey, do you have any deliveries after this one?”

“I can’t stay.” He’d say that every time.

“Please?”

“No,” Then head walk away, waving goodbye and leaving you alone once again. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Y/N,” Your doctor always started consultations like this. I’m sorry, he’d say, buy was he really? “The ruptures were worse than we initially predicted. You’ll have to stay off your feet for another month.”

“The whole month?!” You shrieked. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” The doctor looks at his watch and sighs again. “I have to go, but the nurse will be here shortly with your medication and to answer any questions you might have.” You had none. The shock of the bad news had been exactly that– a shock. You felt as if you had just been electrocuted, and your brain had just been fried, leaving you useless and incompetent. And you hated that feeling; you really really hated that feeling. 

This meant no more dancing for the rest of the semester, at leas. Your major would be all messed up without these classes and, honestly, so would you. You grew up dancing; it’s how you learned to express yourself and your emotions; it’s what you knew you were good at. Like, really good. It’s what gave you confidence, and a sense of self. Without it… well, without it, you weren’t really sure what to do, simply because you had never done anything else. 

Your instructor drops you back in your apartment; you were lucky enough to have managed to snag an apartment two blocks away from campus, so she wasn’t really worried about you getting to your classes, since you were on the route of the shuttle. But she was worried about your future, although not once she decided to talk about it. 

That afternoon, you don’t order ice cream. You are not really feeling like eating something sweet. You just want to sleep. So sleep you do. 

And the same happens the next day. And the next. And the next. And when you realize, a week has passed. Although you only realize that when your buzzer goes off at 10PM. Groaning, you jump towards the intercom.

“Yes?” You cringe at the sound of your voice; hoarse and unused. 

“Delivery. Let me up.”

You sigh.

“I didn’t order anything, Minho. Wrong apartment.”

“Let me up.” He says again and you are to tired to fight him, but not tired enough to leave him outside in the cold night. 

He is at your door in a minute, and you have to hold your breath. He is not wearing his usual red uniform, but a simple hoodie and jeans. And goddammit, he looked good. You are suddenly self-conscious and you hide behind the door, allowing your head enough space to pass, but only that. 

“I’m telling you, I didn’t or-“

He rolls his eyes– a nasty habit of his that you absolutely hated– and pushed the door, gently so that you wouldn’t fall, and then closing it behind him. He grabs your elbow and guides you to the couch, where he sits you down and makes his way to the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” You mumble, curious but somehow frozen in your seat. 

“I talked to your instructor today,” He says, voice echoing in the badly lit room. “I’m sorry. I got you soup. And ice cream.”

You are not sure what happens, of if something even happens, but you suddenly have an urge to cry and you are doing your best to hold it in, but as soon as he sits next to you and grabs your hand, you can’t anymore. You’ve been alone for so long now, and that damn apartment, and you felt so useless; you couldn’t even jump to your intercom without panting after. You missed training and rehearsing and just feeling. But you didn’t have that anymore, and you didn’t even mourn your loss. You just binged stupid tv shows. 

“Let it out,” Minho whispered next to you. “You have to cry, or else it won’t heal.”

You stay quiet. You feel like there’s something more to this, and he tells you exactly what.

“I got hurt during Sophomore year,” He whispers when your sobs no longer shake your body. Your head is on the back of the couch, and he does the same; laying down his head, and the turning to look at you. “I couldn’t dace for three months… and it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.”

You sniffle, turning to look back at him. From where you were, the tip of your noses touched, and you could feel his minty breath fan your face. You could see everything; from his eyelashes to the deep brown of his eyes. For a moment, you think you saw that pain he was talking about– the one that hurt him way beyond the physical realm. It flickers, and then it disappears, leaving only a frown behind. Your hand squeezes his and the frown disappears, too. 

“I need you to know,” He says, shuffling a bit so that now he is closer, maybe too close, and his body is facing yours. “You’ll be fine. Classes and grades don’t matter when your health is at play. So trust me, yeah?”

You nod.

He squeezes your hand.

“When I got hurt, my biggest issue was the loneliness,” Minho’s body just kept getting closer and closer, and you are sure that some time in the middle of him moving, you moved too– closer and closer. His lips brushes yours. “You’re not alone. I’m not leaving you alone, Y/N.”

“Promise?” You peck his lips. “Promise me?”

“Promise.”

After that night, Minho came to your apartment every day for the next month. During his shifts, he would always make sure to deliver you something; be it ice cream, dumplings, or even once, a flower. You weren’t sure about where you two stood– relationship wise– but that wasn’t your biggest priority, if you were being honest. 

You were on a taxi to the hospital, praying so that this time the doctor wouldn’t apologize. You made sure to follow procedure to the smallest detail; not once putting your foot on the ground, keeping it elevated, icing it, and so on. You were good. You had been good, and Minho had been there just to make sure. You deserved to be okay.

Your instructor was at the entrance with a wheelchair, so that you could keep your foot resting. You were so nervous, you barely notice the x-ray, and the rest of the exams. You wanted the end game– the result. 

“Are you ready?” You instructor asks you, her hand shaking as much as yours.

“Yeah,” You laugh nervously. “Get me back out there, coach”

“You never left, Y/N, you were just on timeout, yeah?” And in you two go, sitting in front of the doctor that read your results so intently.

“Well Ms. Y/L/N,” He sighs and you feel like screaming. It was time. “Everything is back to normal.”

He proceeds to explain how and why and when, but you couldn’t care less. 

“I can walk again?” You ask, breathing heavily. “I can dance?”

He laughs at your childish enthusiasm. “Not quite at the pace you used to dance,” He explains. “But with some physical therapy and slowly picking up your dancing classes, I’d say that in two weeks you are back to where you left off.”

And if these weren’t the best news you’ve had all year, you didn’t know what was. The car ride back home was magical; everything was beautiful and amazing. The couple crossing the street was beautiful, and so was their dog, and so was the tree and its flowers, and the sky. Wow. The sky made you wanna dance. And you would, as soon as your got home and called Minho. 

Minho. What would you’ve done without him? He had been your main source of support.

Come over?, you text him as soon as you enter your place, slowly walking around just because you finally fucking could. Your ankle was still stiff, and it felt a little awkward to walk on it, but goddammit did it feel good. 

Be there in 5.

When you saw the text, 4 minutes had already passed, and knowing Minho he’d be exactly on time. Your heart goes insane at the thought of finally hugging him standing up. Of getting on your tippy toes and-

Buzz. Buzz buzz buzz buzz.

“Calm down, I’m coming!” You shout, and jog to the door with a huge smile on your face. I can jog to the door again, you think, giggling at the silly thought. “Hey-“

“How did it go?!” He shouts, cutting you off and entering the apartment. His eyes were wide and his mouth was stuck on this perpetual pout and you just really really really wanted to- “Earth to Y/N! How did it go? Can you dance again?!”

You giggle. Like a damn fool, that’s all you manage to do, because he looks so cute and you’ll be damned if you don’t get on your fucking tippy toes and kiss his fucking pouty lips. And you don’t want to be damned. So you kiss him. You grab him by the ears and pull him down, mouth moving on his before he can even understand what is happening. But Lee Minho is no idiot; he caught on fairly quickly, and his hands fly to your waist, bring you closer and closer and closer until you drown on him. 

When you separate, he smiles.

“I’m assuming you can walk again,” He mumbles, kissing your cheek. 

“You got that right, sir,” You giggle again. 

“Can you dance?” There is a strange light in his eyes, ones that make your squint in suspicion.

“Not as intense as before,” You shrug. “But with some physical therapy and slowly getting back to my feet– quite literally, ha!– the doctor says I’ll be able to dance in just two weeks.”

“Your jokes suck,” Minho sigh. “But I’ll ignore this for now.”

His hands get to work, then. They grab yours, and pull your arms around his neck. With two taps on the back of your thighs, you get the gist of it. Your feet are positioned over his, and to no music at all, you two sway. 

And you smile, with your head on his shoulder. You’re good. 

You are so good. 

–––––––––

aaaaahhhhh I’m officially back! I apologize for disappearing, but college takes up most of my free time :(

anyways! what do you think of this? Yes? no? let me know!!!

[straykidsholicleigh]

You Want It Down

warnings: clothed clit rubbing, spanking (just one-), choking (yay) that's basically it-

a/n: my second disgusting drabble

credits: dividers by @cafekitsune & @not-the-herb-sage ♡

You strapped your heels up before sitting up from the bed, admiring your outfit in the mirror in front of you. You wore a black dress that came just above your knees, a see through material as the sleeves, paired with black heels. Your hair was tied into a messy bun and you wore light makeup.

You looked sexy, to say the least, but only one thing was missing...

The zipper.

“Minho!” You called out, grabbing a bracelet from the dresser. Your boyfriend of two years came walking into the room. “Yes my love?” He questioned leaning against the door frame. “Could you zip this for me please?”

You had already pulled it halfway, but found it difficult to pull the rest. He smirked, walking over to you and turned you around.

“Up, Minho.” You said, rolling your eyes, but instead he wrapped a hand around your throat, keeping you still. You gasped as he let his free hand roam between your legs, pushing your dress up and rubbing circles around your clothed clit.

“No baby, I think you want it down. Don't you?” He whispered, smirking at the way you moaned under his touch.

“M-minho, we're going to be late- fuck-” you choked out a moan as he gave your right thigh a loud slap. “Oh, but I've got my dinner right here baby.”

Well, looks like you guys have to cancel dinner tonight.

©straykidsholicleigh