#minchan fluff

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 4344

Summary: As the upcoming comeback gets closer, Chan starts isolating himself from you and Minho, getting overwhelmed. He can't quite deal with feeling so much and nothing at all at the same time and takes it out on the two of you. Minho and you try to help your husband out.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, argument, chan feels numbish, fear of flying, domestic married life, emotional hurt/comfort, angsty!chan, soft!min

A/N: I don't know where that came from, but enjoy me fabricating 4k of angst and domestic bullshit in like half an hour😭🥹

PART TWO

My mind is complicated Find it hard to rearrange it But I'll have to find a way somehow Overreacting lately Find it hard to say I'm sorry Still - Niall Horan

You gently knock at the doorframe to your bedroom to avoid startling your husband and step inside. “You have everything you need, darling?”

Minho's currently packing his suitcase for his trip lasting a week. He looks up, gently blowing his hair from his eyes. “I think so, yes,” he flashes you a warm smile. After checking everything once more, he nods and throws the suitcase closed. "Where's our Channie love?" he asks, pulling the zipper closed and fidgeting with the lock. 

"Working," Chan gives back from next door. 

"Of course you are," he says more to himself, making you giggle. Over the past few days, Chan grew very quiet, burying himself in work and avoiding you for most of the time. It happened sometimes before a busy schedule, and Minho had learned to deal with the fact that Chan needed this to recharge. Minho, Chan and you had been dating for four years before tying the knot five years ago. He knows the two of you inside out by now after almost a decade. Minho strolls into Chan's working area and rests his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, there." 

"Hey," Chan gives back, not looking up from his screen and staying seated at his desk. 

"You're hungry? I can order something," he tells him, gently running his hand through his hair. 

"Stop that," Chan grumbles and tilts his head away from him. 

"Okay, sorry," Minho nods calmly and pulls his hands back. For a moment, the sound of Chan's fingers hitting the keyboard is all that can be heard. "So?" he asks, his patience starting to wear thin. 

"I'll keep working," he shakes his head. 

"Chan," Minho says firmly. "I'm leaving after that, and it would be nice to have lunch with my wife and my husband." 

"Fucks sake, you're annoying," Chan sighs and waves him off. "I'll be there in a moment." 

"Thank you," Minho rolls his eyes and makes his way downstairs. "Someone's in a mood," he grumbles as he leans against the kitchen island beside you. 

“Don’t take it to heart, you know he gets sometimes,” you say soothingly, rubbing his shoulder. “What are we getting?”

“Whatever you want, honey,” he winks at you and lets you scroll through the options. “I don’t get him. It’s still a month until the album drops, and we have pretty much everything sorted out. Sure, I have to come up with two more dances, but that’s my issue, isn’t it?” he asks.

“You know Chan makes everything his responsibility,” you tell him and hand him back his phone. “He’ll calm down again; I’ll see what I can do.”

Minho sighs softly and orders the food, still seeming a little pissed off. Usually, Chan knows how much Minho needs a stable environment before a flight. He's scared of flying enough as it is, but especially when he's caught up in his thoughts. So it confuses you a little that he doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that today.

You call out for him twice as your food arrives until Chan finally joins you downstairs. 

Chan's staring into the distance, pushing his food around on his plate and staying quiet as Minho and you keep on talking. 

"Tastes good?" Minho asks after a while and gently nudges Chan beneath the table. 

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs and ignores the frown Minho gives him. 

"How's work going, Channie?" you try your luck. 

"Great," he simply says, shoving some food into his mouth, clearly signaling he doesn't want to talk right now. 

"Good," Minho nods and sighs softly. "I'm a little nervous." 

"Why?" he gives back, almost a little routined.

"I hate flying, as you know," he groans frustratedly. 

"You did fine before," Chan shrugs and takes a sip from his drink. "It's just a flight." 

"Yeah, that's the point, isn't it?" Minho asks, starting to get a little irritated. 

"Don't be a baby, you'll manage," he says, and Minho stares at him, unable to come up with a proper answer. 

"Thanks, very helpful," he presses out, gripping his glass tighter as his hand starts to shake. He has no time for a mental breakdown right now. 

“Channie,” you sigh softly, deciding to step in. The last thing you want is Minho to leave like that.

Looking up, Chan sees the confusion and anxiety clouding Minho's eyes. "Sorry, Min, you're not a baby," he says, not very convincingly, but it seems to be better than nothing to Minho. 

Minho glances at his watch and clears his throat. "I'll go and grab my stuff," he announces. 

Chan rolls his eyes once he's gone and braces his head on his hand, staring out of the window. He wonders how the hell he'll be able to finish everything he has to do in so little time.

“Channie, angel?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “At least try and be nice? He’s gone for a week after.” 

“You two are fucking exhausting,” he groans, and you raise your eyebrows, ready to answer as Minho comes back downstairs. 

You get up to collect the trash and decide to continue this talk later.

"I'll see you in a week then," Minho says gently, and Chan hums, agreeing. "You'll be okay?" 

"Sure," he nods and stares into the distance. 

Minho takes his hand and tries to meet his eyes. "Love?" he asks, and Chan very slowly turns to him. "You know you can call if you get overwhelmed or need help with anything." 

"Mhm," he hums and pulls his hand from his hold. 

"Okay," he chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Well, I'll be leaving then."

"Okay," he nods. 

"Can I at least get a kiss?" Minho asks quietly, and his heart sinks as Chan frowns. 

"No," he simply says. 

"No?" Minho echoes quietly, subconsciously taking a step back. 

"Don't feel like it," he shrugs and glances at his watch. 

"You don't feel like…wow, okay," he nods, trying to swallow down the sudden sickness spreading through him. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks timidly. Maybe this wasn't just Chan pulling back, but he had done something to upset him. 

“No, you didn’t, Min,” you say firmly, staring at him irritated.

Chan turns to look at him properly for the first time today. Minho's heart sinks at the carelessness in them. "Right now, you're keeping me from working. I have stuff to do, mate."

"Mate?" Minho presses out, taking a few steps back. "Alright, I'll see you in a week, bestie. Seriously, fuck you," he snaps and grabs his keys. 

"Minho, come on," Chan groans, rolling his eyes at him. "Stop overreacting." 

Minho fidgets with his wedding ring before slamming it on the table. "Know what that is?" 

"You're being serious right now?" Chan raises his eyebrows at him mockingly. 

"That stupid little thing means we're husbands, idiot. I've been by your side for nine years now; I think you can start using appropriate terms, Chan hyung." Minho says firmly, and for a moment, he considers leaving the ring here. But then he remembers he has a public image to maintain, and showing up without one of his wedding rings would raise questions. Also, deep down, it feels wrong already to only wear yours. 

"You're being ridiculous," Chan says and gets up, pushing past him. 

"No, I'm hurt. There's a difference, Chan," he tells him, grabbing his suitcase. "But fine, I'll leave like that. I'll see you in a week then." 

"Fucking great," Chan nods, walking upstairs and not looking back. 

Minho watches him, stunned, before finally leaving the house and slamming the door closed. 

You stand still for a moment, trying to process what has just happened. "You had one job, Chan! Be nice!" you shout upstairs. 

"Fuck you too!" he shouts back and slams his door closed. 

"You two are fucking ridiculous sometimes," you curse and search for your keys. 

Minho gets into his car and stays there for a few minutes, trying to calm down. Secretly, he hoped Chan would join him and make things right before leaving. But he doesn't. The door to his car opens, and you lean down to look at him, raising your eyebrows in amusement. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he groans and gets out quickly.

You giggle softly as he rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “Well, goodbye then, darling,” you tease him lovingly.

“I’m sorry, he pissed me off,” he groans, stifling his laughter in your shoulder.

“I know he did,” you laugh and soothingly pat his back. “Give him time to sulk; he’ll start missing you in two days top. He always does.”

“You’ll be okay?” Minho asks, pulling back and looking at you caringly. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s Channie,” you giggle, and Minho snorts. “Deep down, he just needs a cuddle and acts tough so we won’t notice how stressed he is.”

“You handle this way better than I do, even though I’ve known him longer,” he laughs, rolling his eyes at himself.

“I just have a little more patience for his bullshit,” you giggle and check your phone. “You should leave before you miss your flight.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groans. 

“You’ll do great, my darling,” you assure him. “Call me when you land?”

“You know I will,” he promises, lovingly kissing you goodbye. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Minnie darling,” you smile.

-

Minho has been gone for four days when he gets a call. To his surprise, it's Chan's number popping up on his screen only minutes before a fashion event. Minho searches for a quiet corner and takes the call. "Hey, I don't have much time. What's up?" he asks calmly and frowns at the silence that follows. "Chan?" 

"Something's wrong," he says quietly. 

"What do you mean?" he asks confused. 

"I don't…I don't feel good," he says monotonously. "Something's off." 

Minho swallows softly. "Where are you?" 

"Home," Chan tells him.  

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks.

“Left,” he answers quietly.

“What do you mean she left?” he frowns, nervously scanning the crowd around himself.

“Told her to leave me alone. She took that to heart,” he explains. “She’s with her best friend.”

Minho exhales relieved, knowing you are safe with your friend. "Channie, what's wrong?" he asks patiently. "You can't just push us away. We love you, and saying yes five years ago means you're stuck with us," he chuckles, waving off his assistant tapping her watch.  

"I know," Chan says and chews on his lower lip, unable to put it into words. "Remember when I had that episode of feeling worthless and overwhelmed back when we were trainees?" 

"Mhm, of course I do," he nods, swallowing hard as he thinks of Chan's emotional state back then. Nothing had worried him that much in a long time. "Is that what's going on?" 

"No…I feel..kinda numb," Chan admits and curses himself. "I feel so much and nothing at all. I feel like crying, but I can't, I can't focus on anything, I feel like everything I do is pointless and…Minnie, can you come back home?" he asks, his voice whispering. "It's starting to scare me whenever I have a clear moment." Minho rubs his face tiredly, and Chan takes his silence the wrong way. "I know you have shit to do…I just thought..I need you, please?" 

"Give me an hour to sort this out," Minho says, and Chan exhales in relief. "I want you to grab a blanket, make yourself some tea, and put on your favorite series. Get comfortable on the sofa downstairs. You think you can do that for me?" 

"Okay," Chan nods. 

"I'll let you know when I'm on the plane," he says, sighing softly. "Channie love?" 

"Yeah?" he asks quietly. 

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, his grip around his phone tightening. 

"I owe you a kiss," he answers, and Minho smiles sadly. 

"Damn right you do," he nods and is about to end the call. 

"Minho, baby?" Chan asks, almost a little timid. 

"Yes, dear?" he asks patiently. 

"Have a safe flight. You can do this, and I'll be there once you're back," he says, and Minho blinks back tears, gripping his phone tightly. 

"Thank you," he whispers. So he hasn't forgotten. 

-

You frown softly as Minho’s name pops up on your screen. Shouldn’t he be at some fancy fashion event right now? “Min?” you take the call confused. 

“Hey, honey,” he says sweetly. “You have a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod agreeing, and smile at your friend thankfully, who hands you a cup of tea. 

“Chan called,” he says and sighs at the silence following. “What happened?”

“Well, what did he tell you?” you ask stubbornly.

“Stop playing games, baby girl,” he warns you. “I should’ve been on some red carpet five minutes ago. So, what happened?”

You roll your eyes and subconsciously play with the two small rings decorating your ring finger: one for Chan and one for Minho. “I made the mistake of thinking I’d get a hug and kiss goodnight from my husband,” you tell him quietly, and he can tell you’re hurt. “He told me to leave him alone, so I did.”

“Fucking hell, Chan,” he breaths out and throws his head back in frustration. “I promised him to come home early, but I need some time to figure this out.”

“Oh, please, Min, it’s only three days,” you protest. That’s not what you had intended at all. “We can manage that, and we’ll talk once you’re back.”

“Well, he can’t,” he shakes his head.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“He called me to ask if I can come back because he’s not doing alright. He said something about feeling numb and like failing,” Minho explains, following his assistant, who had given up by now, to his car.

“Shit, Min, I didn’t know. I thought he was stressed and taking it out on us,” you say apologizingly. 

“Relax, I didn’t know either,” he sighs, getting into his car. “Listen, I’ll be back home in a few hours. You think you can go back home in the meantime?” he asks gently. “I know you’re hurt and-.”

“No, it’s alright. Of course, I’ll go back home,” you say, already getting up and gathering your things. “You have a key to get in?”

“I think so, yes,” he nods.

“Alright, I’ll see you later then. I’ll go check on Channie,” you promise, and Minho exhales, relieved. You quickly explain everything to your friend before driving home a little faster than you should. Closing the door, you kick off your shoes and rush into the living room. 

Chan looks up at you, confused, eyes widening at the sight of you. “Y/N?” he asks stunned.

“I’m so sorry, Channie angel,” you apologize and sit down next to him on the sofa. “I didn’t realize you were struggling that much. I thought you were stressed or something.”

“Min told you?” he asks, chuckling as you nod. “Typical, can’t keep a secret.”

“He’s worried,” you scold him gently and take Chan’s hand. “I’m worried.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “I don’t like worrying you. I just gave up hiding from Min because he witnesses most of it during work anyway.”

“Fair point,” you hum softly and hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. This time, he lets you. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “I’m not myself at the moment. Min has helped me out before when we were still trainees, I trust him with this.”

“Okay then,” you nod, smiling as he wraps his arm around you. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you,” he says gently.

-

When Minho gets home a few hours later, he feels drained, pushing his suitcase into a corner and kicking off his shoes. He's still wearing the makeup and outfit for tonight's event, having wasted no time with changing. He tiredly runs his hand through his hair and stares at it for a moment, still shaking as the adrenaline and fear of the flight slowly wear off. His eyes fall upon the wedding rings on his finger. His heart steadies, remembering why he's there as he looks at Chan’s. 

A pair of hands slip into his, taking his smaller ones and gently squeezing them. Minho looks up and meets the eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. Chan moves their hands up to his face, planting a tiny kiss on each of his knuckles. "Breathe," he tells him quietly, and Minho exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in. 

Minho can't stop himself and pulls him into a tight hug. He buries his face in his shoulder, stomach sinking as Chan stiffens for a moment in his hold. He pulls back, unable to meet his eyes. "Sorry, I should know better, you're not feeling up for this right -." 

Chan cuts him off by pulling him in and shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm a little slow at the moment." 

"That's okay," Minho assures him and gently rubs his back. 

"I can't do anything right at the moment," Chan says quietly, gripping the back of Minho's suit jacket tightly. 

Minho soothingly runs his hand through his hair. "Sometimes it's enough if the only thing you did today was breathe." 

"If you think so," Chan mumbles into the fabric as he buries his nose in his shoulder. 

"I know so," he tells him, resting his head against Chan's. 

“You told Y/N,” he speaks up after a moment. 

“Of course I did. She’s our wife, Channie love,” he giggles softly. “She should know, it’d worry her more not knowing what’s going on.”

He hums gently and tightens his hold on him. "I don't know what to do," Chan admits quietly. "I never felt so empty and isolated." 

"I know that's probably hard to believe right now, but I promise you'll always find me in these three places: In front of you to cheer you on, behind you to have your back, and beside you, so you're never alone," he starts out gently. "I'll find a way to make you feel full again…fuck, that came out wrong," Minho groans, and for the first time in almost two weeks, Chan laughs. 

"Idiot," he giggles and pulls back, meeting his eyes. He reaches out for him, hesitantly brushing back a strand of hair, fingertips tracing the features of his face. Once he reaches his lips, Minho plants a gentle kiss against his fingertips. Chan looks up, and he can't quite pinpoint the look in his husband's eyes. "I messed up that event for you, didn't I?" 

"It doesn't matter," he assures him. "You're more important." 

"You're mad?" he asks, squinting his eyes at him a little. 

"Do I look mad?" he asks gently. 

Chan frowns a little. "No…you look pretty." 

A soft smile covers his lips and travels to his eyes. "That's very sweet." 

"It's weird because I can tell what you're feeling, but…I have no clue how to grasp what I'm feeling," Chan admits, tears brimming his eyes. "I'm messed up, aren't I?" 

"You're struggling," he reminds him kindly. "We can work this out. We did that before." 

"Promise?" Chan asks, searching his eyes observantly. 

"I promise," he says, holding Chan's hand wearing the wedding rings. "I told you I'd be there, no matter what," he tells him, and Chan nods firmly, holding on to the truth of those words. "I need to get rid of the makeup and…whatever the hell that is," he says, looking down at himself. They've put him in some suit and casual clothes arrangement with way too many straps in a different fabric to his taste. 

"I'll help," Chan says, and Minho nods thankfully. 

“Channie?” you ask quietly. Minho turns in Chan’s hold and smiles softly, seeing you. You’re wearing one of his sweaters, and your hair messily falls around your face. You tiredly rub your face and squint at them before the realization hits you. “Oh, Minnie, you’re back,” you beam.

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, grabbing your hand and pulling you into their hug. He plants a tiny kiss on top of your head and giggles as you pout at Chan. 

“Got cold without you,” you tell him. 

“Sorry, baby,” he chuckles and rubs your back. "I had to check on Minho." 

"You're doing okay?" you ask him gently. 

"I'm glad to be on solid ground again," he snorts and lovingly brushes back your hair. "Let's go upstairs. Channie's helping me, and then we can all go to bed." 

"Sounds great," you nod and tiredly rub your eyes. "Channie?" you ask sweetly, making grabby hands at him. Chan snorts and rolls his eyes before lifting you up to carry you upstairs. You smirk at Minho as he follows the two of you. "Doesn't he look handsome?"

"Already told him so," Chan comments.

"You look like a prince, darling. So cute with that glitter around your eyes," you compliment him, and Minho blushes. 

"You're too kind, as always, my beautiful wife," he smiles shyly, and your heart swoons at his last words. 

"Careful," Chan says as he lowers you on the bed. He makes sure you're comfortable and tugs you in already, leaning down and planting a light, almost hesitant kiss on your forehead. "Thank you for coming home," he tells you quietly enough for only you to hear as Minho throws his bag in a corner of the room. "I feel more safe when you're here." 

"Always," you promise. Chan makes his way over to Minho, helping him with his outfit's many buttons and straps. He also removes his shirt and grabs a new one from the closet. "If I weren't so tired, I'd enjoy the show a little more enthusiastically."

Minho's ears burn up red, and he quickly slips into the shirt. "If you weren't so tired, I'd make sure you put that pretty mouth to use for something other than talking shit." 

Your jaw drops, and Minho smirks succeeding. "Fucks sake, you guys, I thought we'd be getting some sleep," Chan protests, making you both laugh. "Okay, sit down," he tells Minho and gets comfortable on the edge of the desk. He plants his feet on Minho's chair, left and right of his thighs. Chan places one hand beneath Minho's chin as he starts wiping away all the makeup, cursing softly to himself about all the glitter around his eyes. "As if you'd need any of this shit," he groans, and Minho giggles softly. 

"You know how it is," he shrugs and closes his eyes for him as Chan gently removes the last remains of his eyeshadow. His eyes flutter back open as Chan takes off the small diamond earring for him. "Thank you, love," he says softly, reaching for him. 

Chan slides off the desk and right into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. You smile gently, watching them, knowing their goodbye hasn't been that great. He sighs softly and brushes his nose against Minho's. "It's good you're back." 

"Yeah?" Minho asks with a shy smile. 

"Mhm," he hums, sinking deeper into his eyes. "Feels safe." 

"I love you," Minho says, rubbing his lower back soothingly. 

"I know," he nods and presses their foreheads together. "And I know I feel the same way about you…even now." 

"That's good," he says, squeezing his hips. "Don't force it, we have time." 

"Being with you feels..good," Chan tells him and subconsciously presses himself closer. It reminds you a little of what he said to you before you fell asleep on the sofa. At least he seems to be able to feel comfort as well. 

Minho very gently reaches up, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks. "How does that feel?" 

"Warm," Chan says, covering his hands with his own. 

"You like that?" he asks, trying to figure out how to start tackling the issue at hand slowly. 

"Yeah," he nods, a small smile covering his face. 

Minho thinks for a moment before he knows what to try next. After all, his husband was a sucker for compliments he couldn't take for shit. If that wouldn't make him feel something, he doesn't know what would. "You're so beautiful, you know, Channie love. Such a handsome husband with those sweet eyes and bright smile," he says, noticing a slight blush creeping up his face. "Don't get me started on those soft curls. Or the way my hands fit perfectly into yours." Chan shifts on his lap, eyes widening a little as he takes it all in. "Have I ever told you how much I love you being so cuddly?" 

"Minho," he protests gently. 

"Yes, beautiful?" he asks curiously. 

"He's right, Channie angel…but he forgot about your cute laugh and caring sweetness," you chime in. “Or the way your strong arms wrap around me, the way you let me rest on your chest when I’m tired, and how cute you get when you soothe me to sleep.”

"Stop," Chan groans softly. "Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside," he says, hiding his face in his shoulder as Minho chuckles. "Don't laugh."

Minho smiles and plants a tender kiss on top of his hair. "See? You're still able to feel good things as well." 

"I'm not fucked, in that case?" he asks so innocently it makes you and Minho crack up. 

"It's a good start, don't you think?" he asks, giggling. 

"I guess so," he chuckles and sighs softly as Minho runs his hand through his hair. "Keep doing that?" 

"Let's get to bed, I won't let go of you tonight," he promises. 

"What about me, Minnie?" you pout softly. 

"I'm in the middle in this case," he snorts, and Chan and you seem happy with that. He smiles as the both of you cuddle up to his sides, heads resting on his chest. Minho soothingly plays with Chan's hair, smiling as you take Chan's hand and intertwine them on his stomach. 

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @galaxycatdrawz @aaasia111 @channieaddict @kthstrawberryshortcake

#stray kids #skz #skz fic #chan #chan fic #minho #stray kids fic #minho fic #minchan #minchan fic #minchan x reader #minho x reader #chan x reader #chan angst #minho angst #minchan angst #minho fluff #chan fluff #minchan fluff #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #angst #fluff #requests open

[slytherinshua]

ALL YOUR IMPERFECTIONS

genre. fluff. warnings. marriage talk (i'm delusional). and kissing. pairing. minchan x reader. wc. 1.2k. a/n. missing minchan hours™️ (come back baby 😭) also im like soooooo delulu over warm domestic cozy fluff like actually someone needs to stop me cause this is all i write atp 😭 this probably also pretty self indulgent cause i fantasize abt a proposal being like this like??? hello??? there's nothing more perfect than this type of proposal im crying.

“When do you think we’ll get married?” The question comes to your brain after dinner. You’re sitting on the couch, contentedly watching Minchan strum on his guitar from across the room. The crackle of the fire makes it all the more cozy, and you can’t help but get a little lost in your thoughts over how perfect life seems in the moment. Minchan’s strums get a little quieter as he hears your question, and you watch as his lips turn up slowly into the softest of smiles.

“Do you want to marry me?” He questions back, though you both know that you do and so does he. And so, instead of answering it, you just smile at him. 

Minchan has noticed before that you have this certain lovesick gaze that is reserved for him. He’s seen it countless times in the past 4 years, and it’s the same one you unknowingly give him now. It makes his heart race wildly in his chest. It’s almost unfathomable how in love he is with you, but he hides just how smitten he is at the moment and changes the chord from D to F on his guitar, filling the room with a suspenseful minor chord.

“I think having our wedding in Spring would be nice. What do you think?” You mumble, your mind already racing with thoughts of it. At present, you aren’t even engaged to him, but the thought of marrying him has always felt so perfect and inevitable (in a good way) that your fantasies your head creates don’t feel unrealistic.

“Spring would be nice. I heard there’s going to be nice cherry blossoms this Spring.” He nods, agreeing with you, his strum pattern changing slightly.

“I want to have a small wedding. Just friends and family.”

Minchan hums in response. You know he would never even think of having a big wedding, though. It would be too overwhelming to have a long guest list for either of you.

It was one of the many reasons why you and Minchan worked so well. You had never found someone you were more similar to than him. It’s one of the reasons why you asked him out (cause he was too shy and nervous to approach you first), one of the reasons why being around him was so comfortable, and one of the reasons why marrying him felt like the most right thing in the world.

You two fit together perfectly without concealing or hiding any bit of yourself. You were honest and true with each other, and instead of it driving you farther away from each other, you found yourself loving his flaws and his imperfections because they were what made him him. It brought you closer to him and was the reason you found yourself falling more and more every day.

He was clumsy and stubborn at times, but for every flaw of his that you could list, you were sure you had 5 more. And he loved you all the same regardless. 

It was true that you sometimes got annoyed with him over little things, and you would fight occasionally. But it could only last for a couple of hours before one of you broke first and embraced the other in a much-needed hug. You would always stay like that for a long time— as long as the situation allowed. Because at the end of the day, loving him was a choice you had made, and you weren’t planning to stop.

Minchan stops playing altogether once he reaches the slow ritardando at the end of the song and sets his guitar aside. He strides over to where you are sitting with a loving look and serene smile.

“Care if I join you under that blanket?” He tilts his head and you think he looks rather like a cat in the moment. You open the blanket for him to slip beside you under it. He laces his right hand with your left one and holds it comfortably on his lap, gently tracing the soft skin.

“Do you think I could replace this promise ring?” He questions slowly, fiddling with the small silver ring that he had given you almost 2 years ago on your anniversary. “You’ll have to move it to your other hand.” He reaches for your right hand this time, and slips off the ring that was on your left ring finger, pushing back onto your right one.

“Do you have it on you?” You ask in a giggle, butterflies already going wild in your stomach at the moment. You had always imagined what your proposal would be like— whether it would be grand or intimate. And you adored that Minchan had chosen the latter. To you, it felt even more special this way.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out another ring, this one a little bit fancier than the one he had just moved. He doesn’t even have a ring box and as he starts to try to slip it onto your finger with his shaky hands you laugh at the clumsy nature of it all.

“I’m sure you already know how much you mean to me, hm? I’ve probably said it a thousand times— I’m surprised you’re not sick of it by now.” He laughs, probably to brush away some of his nerves in the moment.

“Dongheon said I should go all out with this since it’s a special moment… But I just wanted to do what felt like us. I hope you don’t mind that it’s nothing big?”

You smile and shake your head, already overwhelmed at just the fact that he was proposing to you. It wasn’t a perfect proposal, of course, but just that made it even more special to you. 

“You still haven’t asked me the question, love.” You say through growing tears, but it breaks down into soft giggles at Minchan’s sudden look of shock.

“Oh no- did I mess it all up? I really should’ve taken Dongheon’s advice.”

“No, no. Nothing is messed up or ruined. I accept either way. You knew I was going to accept.” You prod him with a wide smile and he shrugs with a nod. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure that you were going to accept.” He says simply. 

The statement brings a rush of surety through you. Minchan was always steadfast and trusting with you. He liked the feeling of knowing how you would react to certain situations — in fact, he prided himself in knowing you better than anyone else. 

“But I should probably still ask, shouldn’t I?” He adds after a second of thought. His eyes flicker up to yours and the amount of love that he bestows in his dark irises is almost inconceivable. “Will you marry me?”

You hum, satisfaction evident in your tone, “You already put the ring on.”

You take the chance to pull him into a slow kiss the moment the formalities are all taken care of. Truthfully, you’ve been longing to kiss him since the moment you sat down by the fire to listen to him play, and the want only grew with every moment that he had you completely entranced with his every move.

Now that you finally felt his soft lips on yours, you can’t help but sigh in content. He is everything you have ever wished for or dreamed of, and yet he somehow surpasses all your expectations with his own unique perfection. And in these moments, loving him is as natural as breathing.

↳ verivery taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @ddeonudepressions,, @edensgardenn

#﹒fics 𓈃 ⵌ #k-labels #minchan #hong minchan #verivery #verivery minchan #vrvr #vrvr minchan #verivery fluff #verivery fic #minchan fluff #minchan fic #hong minchan fic #hong minchan fluff #verivery fanfic #verivery x reader #verivery minchan x reader #hong minchan x reader #fluff #fic #fanfic #kpop #minchan x reader #minchan fanfic #hong minchan fanfic #vrvr fanfic

[catiuskaa]

reggaeton & champagne.

PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan

SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.

REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3

CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.

WC: 2.3k

A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)

[🔹☆💠☆🔹]

The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.

It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.

Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.

And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.

You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.

The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.

Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.

One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.

Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.

“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.

You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.

Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.

“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.

Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.

They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.

“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.

“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.

With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.

“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.

The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.

“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”

His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.

Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.

“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”

You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.

“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”

And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.

You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.

Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.

“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.

“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.

“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.

But then, you felt a hand on your waist.

“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.

His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.

The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.

You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.

He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.

Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.

He smiled, and you held back a frown.

“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”

…

yikes.

That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.

The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.

The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.

“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.

You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.

Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.

If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.

He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.

“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.

Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.

The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.

Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.

Huh?

“All those for you?”

Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.

He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.

And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.

So he helped you by slapping them off your body.

As ‘gently’ as he could.

“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.

Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.

“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”

Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.

“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”

Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.

One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.

“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.

“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”

Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.

“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.

Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.

“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”

Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.

As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.

Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.

“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.

With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.

“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.

“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.

“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.

“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.

Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.

“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.

They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.

There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.

“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.

“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.

You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.

Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.

“What do you want to eat, kitten?”

You snickered.

“I want to have ramen.”

~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)

#im sorry #silly me hehe #for my pookie<3 #sharonxdevi! #hope you like <3 #lee minho fluff #stray kids imagines #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #minchan #minho x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #chan x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #kpop smut #stray kids minho #stray kids smut #bangchan smut #skz smut #soft hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #hard thoughts #chan hard thoughts #minho hard thoughts #skz scenarios #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids changbin

[minchanchivo]

Swimming Coach 🐺🐰

https://x.com/mnchnknow?t=xaX7TwHGBmrTmN4SnCCzBA&s=09

#minchan #stray kids #minchan smut #skz #skz fanart #stray kids au #skz au #skz edits #lee know #skz lee know #bangchan #skz bang chan #skzoo #skzoo fanart #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz ships #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids moodboard #digital art #bang chan fanart #lee know fanart #bang chan fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fanfic #bang chan fanfic #minchan fanart #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanart

[minminyoonjii]

What about minchan smut where they go out to a convenience store together to grab snacks for their movie night only to bump into someone and instantly fall head over heels with them and end up bringing them back to their house and railing them into oblivion turning them cock drunk and brain dead?

-🤍🦇 if I may

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Movie night snacks are always essential. Who knew bumping into a wall would lead to this?

💛AN

Definitely, 🤍🦇-nonnie hehe. First fic after a while, I hope it's good.

🌹CW

Cunnilingus|Oral Sex|Protection Used|Blowjob|Oral Fixation|Pussy Drunk! Lee Minho|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Dacryphilia|Needy! Reader|Slow to Rough Sex|Switch! Lee Minho|Spitroasting|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 2.3K

"Hyung, did you get everything?" Minho asked, hooking his chin over Chan's shoulder. "Looks about everything. Are you sure this is enough pudding?" he teased, running his fingers through Minho's hair. Minho tsk, nipping Chan's ear, "Very funny, hyung," he muttered. Chan chuckled, "If that's all, we should be good then," he said, walking ahead, facing Minho. A firm grunt escaped his lips when he bumped into something. 

You winced, thankful that the cans you held didn't fall on you. Chan's eyes widened, "Oh shit, sorry," he apologised, helping you up. You coughed up a laugh, "It's fine, but to my defence. I didn't expect a walking wall." you said, eyeing Chan's build. He chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "Yikes, sorry again," he said, picking up the things you dropped. Minho snorted at his boyfriend's blush-tinted cheeks. 

Chan gulped, taking a good look at you as he handed the cans. You smiled, oblivious to his blatant stare, "So, movie night snacks or just stock up?" you asked, gesturing to the handful of snacks. Minho blinks, hitting Chan's shoulder subtly, "Movie night, what about you? That's quite a number of canned fruits," he rambled, snapping out of his daze. Minho chuckled inwardly, "Don't you think it's rude to question a person's grocery choices, hyung?" he teased, rubbing Chan's ears. 

You giggled, "Well if he's being rude, then I'm ruder for bringing it up," you said, taking Minho aback. Minho's jaw dropped into a slight agape before he blinked out of it, "I didn't mean like that, I just-," he said, flustered by your comment. Chan chuckled, rubbing Minho's back, "Deep breaths, baby," he said, egging Minho on. Minho scoffed, biting his tongue before burying his face in the crook of Chan's neck. You cooed, "Aww, I'm sorry if I made you shy," you said, looking at Minho sympathetically.

"It's okay," Minho mumbled, peeking out briefly. Chan felt his heartthrob, "Since you have the drinks and we have the snacks, why don't you come to our place for a movie?" he suggested, letting his emotions take the lead. You freeze, "Huh?" you questioned, wondering if you heard wrong. Chan cleared his throat, "I meant what I said, would you like to hang out with us?" he asked, his fingers over Minho's firm arms wrapped around his waist.

You bit your lips, weighing the pros and cons until you decided 'Fuck it, they're hot,'. With a deep inhale, "I'm down," you agreed, smiling at them. Chan mimicked one back, "Great, our car is out front. If you don't mind we can ride it together," he prompted. You nodded your head, "Fine by me," you said, laying your purchases on the counter. Minho turned to face you, "My name's Minho," he said, waiting for yours in return. You chuckled, answering him, "And you?" you questioned, looking at Chan.

"Oh, I'm Chan. I didn't realise the late introduction," he said, carrying the items. You shrugged, "Me neither," you said, growing comfortable with their presence by the second.

"Nice place you got here," you said, setting the ingredients aside. Minho hummed, "It's very minimal," he said, pouring the snacks into containers. You nodded, "I bet your rooms showcase your personalities well," you said, mixing up the punch. Chan nodded, "Our shared bedroom has its spin, but if you really want to know our personalities I suggest a visit to our studio," he said, taking a sip of the punch you made. Puzzles connected in your head, 'They're a couple', you thought.

Minho stood far back behind you, instinctively eyeing the curve of your ass. He tried his hardest to look at something else but he wanted nothing more than to watch your bottom meet his palm. Chan was holding his composure slightly better than Minho, "What were the actual plans for your night?" he asked. You hummed, tasting the punch from the ladle, "Casual night in with shows to binge," you said, deeming the punch sweet enough. 

Chan nodded, feeling the drool pool below his tongue at the sight of your glossy lips, "Self-care is important," he said, bringing the things to a coffee table. You purse your lips, "Yup," you said, knowing damn well you were going to spend the night edging your aching cunt. A deep exhale escaped your lips as you tried to shake the idea away. Minho took a seat next to you, "What movie would you recommend to us?" he asked, subtly reaching his arm over your head. 

You hummed, "Well there was this show I wanted to start," you said, clicking it. Chan smiled, "Good choice, I think I heard it from somewhere," he said, getting comfortable as he took a seat. All was going well until you remembered why this show was infamous. You gripped the glass, staring ahead. Chan shifted, crossing his leg over the other to hide his growing semi. Minho took deep breaths through his nose, shutting his eyes every once in a while to distract himself from the sheer pornographic moans.

A weak whimper escaped your lips, body heated both from the alcohol and the initial neediness you had. Chan gulped, hearing your sweet whimper over the actor's grunts. Your thighs trembled, pleading for any form of pressure to subdue the craving in your abdomen. Minho grunted, turning down the show "Do you want our help?" he rasped, hair tousled from how much he was brushing it back to distract himself. 

You blinked, "Huh?" you questioned, voice barely above a whisper. Minho got on his knees, rubbing your calves, "Do you want us to help you, princess?" he whispered, careful to not make you uncomfortable. You gulped, embarrassment running through your veins at the thought of you being so utterly obvious, "Please?" you questioned, thoughts running through your mind. Chan stroked your hair, "Don't worry, we'll stop the moment you tell us to. Just give us the word and we'll back off," he reassured, patting your shoulder.

Minho nodded, "We just want to help you, sweet thing," he said, letting you rest your palm on the top of his head. You gulped, undeniably horny at the thought of two gorgeously looking men prioritising your consent. Chan hummed, "You can make the first move, little one," he said, tracing circles on your shoulder. You pressed your thighs close, "Kiss?" you asked, turning to face Chan. He chuckled, cupping your cheek, "Close your eyes for me," he instructed, pressing his lips against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling his plush full lips sync with yours. Chan groaned, slipping in his tongue, teasing the roof of your mouth with the tip. Minho grunted a whine, nipping at the fabric of your tights. "Shit, angel. You kiss so sweet," Chan chuckled, pulling back. Low heavy breaths huffed between you, and Chan couldn't help but lick your spit-glossed lip. You shivered a moan, lifting your hips for Minho to tug down your bottoms.

Minho wasted no time to mark your supple skin, nipping and sucking deep bruising bites. Chan cooed at his boyfriend's possessiveness, "Can't leave the kitten to his own devices for too long, princess. Why don't you tighten that grip of yours?" he prompted, kissing down your neck. Your cunt ached to be touched, soaking through those skimpy panties you wore on a whim. You tugged on Minho's roots, bringing his face closer to your warm pussy.

Chan removed his top, defined muscles on sight, "May I?" he asked, brushing his fingers up your top. You nodded, spreading your legs further for Minho to comfortably bury his face against your panties. Chan gripped your waist, pushing the fabric up to show your cute tummy, his thoughts spun at the idea of his cock bulging at that specific spot. "Fuck me," he mumbled, tugging the fabric past your head to admire your body. 

Minho worked his tongue the moment his face was inches from your clothed cunt. Drool pooled his mouth, soaking the panties you wore. He pushed the fabric aside only to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit. You bit back a squeal at the sudden zap of pleasure electrifying your abdomen. Minho moaned, hooking your thighs over his shoulders, "So fucking pretty," he grunted, licking down your slit. You whined, arching your back into his mouth "Ah! ah, ah," you moaned, breathlessly. 

Chan groped your chest, lips sucking around your sensitive nipples, "They're so hard, princess," he groaned, flicking his tongue. Tears pooled in your eyes, pleasure swimming in your head. Minho shifted lower, using his nose to press on your swollen clit as his tongue stretched out your hole. Your back arched at the intrusion, "There, please, please, please," you pleaded, clawing your nails into the sofa below. Minho huffed out a growl, adding his fingers with his tongue.

A silent scream escaped your lips as your orgasm broke over the edge. "Shit, shit, fuckk," you dragged, moaning. Minho licked your orgasm clean, sucking on the entrance of your cunt. Chan pulled off your chest, "I need to see that expression again, princess," he groaned, manhandling your body across the sofa. You moaned at his strength, arms wrapping around his firm thighs, "Chan," you whined, looking up.

Minho groaned at the aches in his knees, "Hyung,  the condom?" he slurred, shaking off the pussy drunk haze. Chan leaned back, grabbing a box, "Here, baby," he said, handing them to Minho. You furrowed your eyebrows, "Fuck, I forgot to ask if you both are clean," you grumbled, the underlying pleasure still clouding your mind. Chan chuckled, brushing your hair back, "We are. I'm guessing you are too?" he asked, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, "Got a test a few weeks back," you said, eyeing Chan's clothed bulge. Chan followed your line of sight, "Ask and you can have it, little one," he said, holding your jaw to face him. You bit back a whine, "Please, Chan. Let me suck your big cock, please," you begged, needing to feel the weight of his throbbing cock on your tongue. Minho moaned at the sight of your curved back, finally able to touch the mounds of your ass, "Sweetheart, this might just kill me," he grunted, slicking his wrapped cock against your folds.

Chan cooed, stripping off his boxers, "Such a sweet little girl," he praised, stroking his cock. You whimpered, slacking your jaw, sticking your tongue out. Minho spread your folds, lining the tip of his cock with your stretched hole, "Relax for me, darling," he whispered, pushing inch by inch into your cunt. You moaned, pressing your cheek against Chan's thigh, "Fuck," you hiccuped, crying at the burning white heat stretching your ribbed walls.

Minho grunted, leaning forward to pant against your shoulder, "She's so fucking tight, hyung," he chuckled, easing his length with gentle strokes for you to get used to. You mewled, urging Chan to shift closer so you could wrap your lips around his throbbing cockhead. Chan cooed, "Aww, don't cry, princess. My cock isn't going anywhere," he said condescendingly, tapping her bottom lip with his leaking slit. You whined, sucking on his sensitive cockhead, melting at the sheer taste of his precum hitting your taste buds.

Chan threw his head back, "That's it, gorgeous," he growled, thrusting his cock firmly. Minho groaned in tandem, dragging his hips to make languid thrusts. He smirked, hitting your ribbed gummy walls "Just look at her fall apart," he grunted, angling his thrusts just the way you needed it. You choked on a sob, bobbing your head to Chan's pace as he held your hair firm. Chan growled, "Uhm, she takes it so fucking well," he praised, feeling the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

Your face slicked with tears and drool, broken moans muffled by Chan's girth filling your mouth. Minho slipped two fingers into his mouth, drenching them in spit before reaching down to rub figure eights’ on your sensitive clit. A muffled cry vibrated through your throat around Chan's cock. He groaned, feeling the air get knocked out of him as your throat convulsed around his cockhead. Your body quivered, teetering at the brink. You sniffled, peeking up at Chan's half-lidded eyes.

Minho noticed, quickening his pace when your warm pulsing walls tightened around his cock, "Is our sweet princess about to cum? Go on and cum for us," he grunted, gripping your waist to lay merciless pounding. Chan felt his knees buckled when you sank your nails into his thighs, "Fuck! Gonna, shit, cum," he growled, thrusting his whole length down your throat. You choked, sputtering around his orgasm, trying your hardest to swallow every last drop.

Chan hissed through his teeth, easing his cock out, "Good girl," he chuckled, pushing back his sweat-drenched hair. Minho nosed your neck, marking your skin, "Please, please, princess. Need to feel you clench around my cock," he rambled, grunting into your ear. You whimper, moans falling freely as your body gave out, abdomen tense when your orgasm broke "Fuck, fuck, ah," you mewled, clenching hard around Minho's girth. 

He choked on a groan, veins on his neck apparent, "Oh fuck," he keened, filling the condom to the brim. Chan chuckled, kissing you to ease down your high, "Such a perfect little girl," he hummed, pampering kisses all over your face. Minho lifted his head, kissing your cheek, "Took my cock perfectly, princess," he praised, shifting to pressing his lips against yours. You weakly mimicked his movement. Chan brushed your hair back, "I've got a warm bath prepared, do you want to wash up now or more kisses?" he asked.

You gave him a fucked out smile, "Kisses, please," you whispered, growing sleepy by the second. Minho grunted, slipping his cock from your warm walls, "Let me help you up, angel," he rasped, lifting you onto his lap. Chan smiled, standing in front of Minho with your back facing his chest, "More kisses, as granted," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you until you're satisfied. 

#secretmoonlight #˗ˋˏ°•𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴•°ˎˊ˗ #✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘪 𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆ #stray kids bangchan #bang chan x you #bang chan smut #kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #bang chan imagines #lee minho x reader #skz lee minho #lee minho x y/n #minchan #lee minho x you #bang chan scenarios #skz imagines #kpop imagines #fluff smut #kpop fanfic #kpop moodboard #stray kids moodboard #mood board #skz minho #skz bangchan #smut fanfiction

[solastalgiart]

🪥night routine

for my giftee @/lillyandcat (tinkerbell) as part of the minchan secret valentine’s exchange on twt. i hope you have a love-ly day~ 💗

#happy valentine’s day from your resident minchanner artist on tumblr #skz #skz fanart #minchan #minchan fanart #bangchan #leeknow #bangchan x leeknow #bangchan fanart #leeknow fanart #au in which minho stays over at chan’s for the first time and is Not Prepared #domestic fluff #boys kissing #and other cheesy nonsense #skz leeknow #skz bangchan #stray kids #stray kids fanart #staysart #bystay #staytists on tumblr #comic #comic art #digital art #kpop fanart #solastalgia art

[softiejoon]

for @in2heartz who enabled my minchan thoughts ; a little more chan-focused but i hope it brings you some comfort <3

.・゜-: ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　✧　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

for the third time that week, your body decides to wake you up in the middle of the night.

you produce a silent groan, looking over enviously at minho's sleeping form. his hair has fallen into his eyes, but you don't dare brush the length away in fear of disrupting his slumber.

returning to lay on your back, you direct your attention to the ceiling. however, after several failed attempts to coax yourself back to sleep, you slip out of the covers and pad towards the living room, where the lights are still on.

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

if there's anyone you can rely on to be awake at this hour, it's your workaholic boyfriend. chan is seated on the couch, headphones over his ears and fingers dancing across the laptop as he works on a new song.

when you drop onto the cushions next to him, he startles slightly, oblivious to your initial entrance. chan slides the headphones off as you lean on his shoulder.

"babygirl, are you okay? why aren't you in bed?"

you give him a look as if to say, shouldn't i ask you the same thing? and answer his question with a shrug. "couldn't sleep."

chan frowns. "again?"

you only hum as you make yourself comfortable, attaching to one side of him to allow him some mobility to work. he moves to take his headphones off completely before you stop him.

"it's okay, channie. i don't want to disturb you. i’ll just lay here if that’s alright?"

he smiles. "more than alright, darling. i’ll finish up on this then i'm all yours. sound good?"

you nod, yawning as you recline your head back on his shoulder. it's soothing as you watch chan rearrange the chords, his head bouncing along to the beat every so often, a satisfied grin when it all comes together. as if to reassure you he hasn't forgotten his promise, chris leans over to give you intermittent kisses on the forehead, and you're not one to complain as the recipient of his affection.

true to his word, chan saves his work shortly after, slipping off the headphones and shutting the screen to his laptop. he places them on the coffee table and turns his full attention to you, opening his arms wide.

"c'mere, babygirl."

you let chan envelop you in his hold. the natural warmth of his body makes you a little sleepy, as does the soft tune he hums close to your ear.

"you're singing me to sleep?" you ask around a yawn.

he smiles. "i think it's working."

"hm, maybe.” you sigh out and wrap your arms tighter around him. he begins to sway you gently in his hold, and after a while, your body steadily succumbs to near-sleep.

chris scoops you up when he notices, making his way towards the bedroom with you in his arms. "better get you back before min realises you're gone," he murmurs.

you make a sleepy noise in response and chan lowers you onto the soft mattress, making sure you're tucked under the covers. instinctively, you roll over to circle your arms around minho, still sound asleep with his back to you.

before you drift off into slumber completely, you feel chan slide into bed behind you and pull you closer into his chest.

the last thing you're aware of is a whispered "sweet dreams" before sleep finally finds you, surrounded by the warmth of your loves.

~

© softiejoon | send me feedback/requests | support me

#minchan #bang chan #lee know #skz #chan x reader #lee know fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #minho x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #minho x you #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #lee know x you #lee know angst #chan x minho #poly!skz

[skz-fanfic-recs]

"i was just asking if you wanted to hang out...just two bros..." "i literally sucked your dick last time we 'hung out'..." "isn't that what bros do?"

#skz #stray kids #ao3 #archive of our own #lee know #lee minho #bang chan #minchan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #skz chan #skz bang chan #skz lee know #lee know skz #lee know stray kids #stray kids lee know #skz lee minho #minho #skz minho #stray kids minho #fluff #angst #happy endings #skz fanfic recommendations #fanfic recommendations #brojobs #oblivious skz #minchan skz parents #chatfic #twitter

[pupch4nn1e]

Soft minchan cuddly minchan minchan where Minho drags Chan to bed when he says up too late and asks him to hold him and Chan does, because he can't say no to Minho, and ends up finally falling asleep and Minho gives him a little kiss on the cheek and falls asleep next to him and and and I love my Minchan :(((

#minchan #skz fluff #stray kids #skz #skz ships

[laniminchanlix]

I lowkey need help on what to write I’m sTrugGliNg 😩 (I write smut,fluff, only angst now and then, skz ships bxb) (skz ships x Reader!) (threesomes) just lmk 😝

#minchan #minlix #chanlix #smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz scenarios

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.6

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 5362

Summary: Once you're back home, your husbands try their best to support you, but the circumstances are taking their toll on you. It all goes well until you find out who was the one driving that night...

Warnings/Tags: mention of amnesia, angst, tiny mention of blood, fluff, cuddles, anxious!soft!min, caring!soft!channie, domestic stuff, husband!min, husband!chan

A/N: I know, I know it looks like shit in the beginning but trust the word count, it'll get all good, soft and domestic🖤

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

Minho slips out of his shoes and stands still for a moment. Chan closes the door and hesitantly slips his hand into Minho's. “Kitten?” he asks quietly but gets no response. “Min, look at me, please.”

Minho does, looking at him with wet eyes, still not saying a word. Chan gently rubs his shoulders before cupping his face and flashing him a small smile. “I know I should be happy,” he finally says. “I know I should be relieved that she's awake and talking. I know I should be happy that we finally got her back. I know I shouldn't still be feeling like shit,” he rambles, and Chan soothingly fondles his cheeks. “But you know how much she hates losing control. You know how scared she gets of change,” he hiccups helplessly, and a few hot tears slip down his cheeks. “Once it'll all settle in, she'll hate me, and I-I can't even blame her because I did-didn't do anything else those p-past two months a-and-.”

“Hey,” Chan says so softly it makes him shut his mouth. “I won't let that happen, baby. It was an accident and there was nothing you could've done,” he says firmly and pulls him in close. “I'm so thankful you're both alive, you know? I don't know-” his voice breaks, and Minho's heart sinks at the sound. “I don't know what I would've done if…,” he stops himself, not daring to put his deepest fear into words. “I get it, Minnie because it would've been a lot easier without the memory loss. I'm terrified of hurting her because I'm not fully feeling well yet. But as long as you won't let go of my hand in all this, I know I'll be okay.”

Minho carefully pulls Chan's hands off his face and intertwines their fingers. “I won't let go,” he says.

“I'll always have your back, okay?” Chan asks timidly, and Minho nods quickly. 

“And I'll have yours,” he promises and squeezes his hands. 

“I could really use a hug,” Chan admits, and Minho doesn't hesitate, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. He gently sways them from side to side and exhales softly. “I love you, Min.”

“I love you too, Channie,” Minho whispers back and squeezes him tightly. 

-

Minho gently helps you out of your jacket and hangs it up for you. Neither Chan nor Minho had remembered that you only moved in here one and a half years ago, so the house was another factor. He watches you glance around the hallway timidly and swallows softly. “Anything familiar?” he asks gently. 

You swallow hard and shake your head. “Not besides…some of the interior,” you tell him. 

He notices how anxious it makes you and carefully slips his hand into yours. “Let me give you a tour, come on.”

You follow him through the house and recognize some bits of your old home. He tells you where to find the most important things, and seems like he's afraid to say anything wrong. It makes you sick seeing your husband try so hard to make you comfortable in a suddenly so unfamiliar place. “I-I'll go use the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, and he nods, telling you again where to find it. 

You close the door and take a deep breath, hugging yourself tightly. “Fuck,” you whisper and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. If you wouldn't know Minho and Chan had been your boyfriends for four years and then husbands for another five you would've freaked out at the hospital. You couldn't remember the past two years of your marriage, but the seven years before are enough to trust them. Still, it all feels so weird. You don't notice how much time has passed until Minho gently knocks at the door and lets himself in. He sits down next to you, and for a moment, you're both quiet. “Minho?” you ask timidly. 

“Yeah?” he asks gently, turning to look at you. 

“Have I been a good wife to you and Chan? Did we have fights? Did I hurt you? Did you hurt me?” you ask, and he inhales deeply. “I know this sounds weird, but…I have no idea where we left off.”

Minho fidgets with his wedding bands and hums thoughtfully. “I can't remember anything big concerning the two of us, we usually get along very well,” he tells you, a small smile on his lips. “We were on a date before the accident. I was very tired, was fighting with Chan over the phone, and…you said you'd take me out for dinner. You were trying to cheer me up, and you did, you always do,” he says and gently clears his throat, pushing away the images of what happened after. 

“What about Chan?” you ask timidly, sensing something off. 

Minho straightens up and pinches his nose, trying to figure out where to start. “About…six months ago, Channie wasn't feeling very well. He was overwhelmed with work and had no resources left for either of us, including himself. He pushed us both away, and one night, when I was abroad, he called me, saying he got into a fight with you and something was seriously wrong,” he tells you and chews on his lower lip. “I called you, asking you to go back and check on him as I flew back home. Chan was feeling numb for quite some time, and we did our best to support him figure out ways to make him feel again. After a while, he decided to visit his family in Australia, take a break, and everything. I stepped in for him at work, and it was killing me,” he admits. “I missed him like hell. I had to lead our team, and I felt lost without him, but you never gave up on me,” he says and his hand subconsciously slips into yours. “He caught me on a bad day, we got into an argument, and well…then we had that accident. Channie got onto the next plane and came back home as fast as he could.”

“Is he still struggling?” you ask hesitantly, and Minho smiles weakly. 

“I don't know, Y/nnie. This whole thing has taken a huge toll on me. I broke down repeatedly and Chan took care of me as best as he could. He even got me a therapist, imagine that,” he laughs, and you can tell he's not really doing well with any of this. “I don't think he had much time to figure out how he truly feels. I should've been there for him more, but I…I could barely get myself out of bed sometimes.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologize timidly, squeezing his hand. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

Minho shakes his head firmly. “None of this is your fault,” he says and searches your eyes. “None of it, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod hesitantly. 

Minho inhales shakily, a suspicious shimmer covering his eyes. “I know this whole memory thing is shit, honey. I feel selfish for saying this, but I'm just so glad you're alive and back home.”

You smile weakly and squeeze his hand firmly. “As long as I have you two, I'll be okay sooner or later.”

Minho gently squeezes back and looks up as Chan steps into the doorframe. “Oh my, am I interrupting something?” he chuckles. 

“Hey, Channie love,” Minho says softly and Chan leans down to give him a kiss. 

“Hey, kitten,” he smiles, gently caressing his cheek. Chan turns to you and gently brushes back your hair, kissing your head, unsure if you feel like kissing. “You're okay?”

“More or less,” you nod, and he sits down on your other side. 

“We're always here if you need someone,” he tells you and gently pats your knee. 

“Thanks,” you nod tiredly. “I really appreciate it, this can't be easy for you either.”

Minho remains quiet this time and glances at Chan. “We're just glad to have you back. The rest we can figure out together,” he assures you. “Just let us know, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod gently. 

-

You turn onto your side heavily and are met with a sight that used to bring a smile to your face. Minho's asleep next to you, his hair hanging into his face, lips parted, and his bunny teeth showing a little. His lashes throw their shadows on his cheekbones and you once more notice how beautiful he is. You've been home for a week now and Minho took another two months off to keep an eye on you. You like being home with Min because he's there when you need him but lets you be when you don't. He doesn't push, he doesn't talk your ears off, and he tries his best not to handle you like you're made out of glass. Still, you can tell he doesn't see you when he looks at you. He doesn't see his wife. He sees the accident and the woman he lost due to the memory loss, and the guilt in his eyes suffocates you sometimes. 

You haven't dared look up the accident yet, but slowly, you can't fight the urge to see what really happened that night. Minho doesn't like talking about it, and Chan wasn't there. 

You slip out of bed and grab your phone, leaving your husband on his own. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you start researching and soon find article over article. Pictures of the crashed car send shivers down your spine. Investigating some further you can tell how worried your friends were about Minho during their interviews, who looks nothing but truly exhausted. You can tell he hasn't been sleeping much; his eyes look glassy in most of them, and Chan never leaves his side.

-

Minho looks up as you come downstairs to join him for breakfast and gets up, putting some waffles on your plate. “Thought you'd like something sweet,” he says and flashes you a smile. 

“Who was driving?” you ask, making him freeze for a second. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, but the slight tremble in his voice tells you he knows exactly what you mean. 

“The accident. Who was driving?” you ask again, stopping in front of the table. 

Minho carefully puts the plate down in front of you. “Does it matter?” he asks timidly. 

“It does,” you nod, tilting your head at him. “Will you be honest with me, or do I have to ask someone else?”

He stares at you, wondering what you're aiming at with that question, but gives himself a push. “I was.”

“Were you drunk?” you ask, and Minho's frown deepens. 

“No.”

“You said you were tired, was that it? Was that what made you miss something?” you ask, and he subconsciously takes a step back. “Were you so upset about Chan that you weren't paying attention?” 

“Y/nnie,” he pleads quietly. “Don’t do this.”

“Min,” you say firmly. “I can't remember the past two years of my life. I don't know what happened and no one can tell me because that'll only be your version of every day,” you say and take a shuddery breath. “Chan hasn't kissed me once since I'm back home, and you look at me like I'm something broken you're too attached to to get rid of. That hurts, Min. I just want my fucking life back!”

Minho raises his hands in defense and steps closer to you. “Honey, I'm sorry, you're right. I can't make up for all that time. But she said they'd come back to you in a few months, at least that the chance is very, very high,” he tries, but the way your eyes darken, he knows you don't want to hear any of it. He tries to brace himself for the emotional outburst that's about to happen, but he can't prepare himself for what you say next. 

“No, you really can't make up for it. Not if you're the one causing this whole mess,” you say, noticing the fear flickering in his eyes, but you don't care. “You were the one driving, you're the one feeling guilty, and now I know why. My whole life went to shit because of you!” you snap at him. Minho doesn't say anything, simply stares at you as your words sink in. His body trembles, his stomach tightening painfully, and his eyes filling with tears. “You fucked everything up, and you're trying so hard to make up for it by staying home with me. Now I know why you so desperately try to make me feel better, and I thought it was because you loved me!”

Minho looks at you as if you just hit him right in the face. A soft whimper leaves his lips, snapping you out of your rage, before tears start running down his face, and his body shakes with a sob. “I know, okay?!” he snaps right back at you. “I know it's all my fault! I-I know I fucked up, and I-I'm the one to b-blame,” he hiccups helplessly, taking a few steps back as you reach for him timidly. “I'm sorry, Y/nnie, I swear, I did-didn't want this.”

“Min,” you whisper guiltily, but your husband shakes his head firmly, biting back a sob. “I'm so sorry, darling, I didn't mean it.”

“Don't lie,” he says, voice cracking. 

“I'm sorry, please,” you try, but Minho pushes past you and goes back upstairs. You let him, knowing he can't handle you, seeing how badly you just hurt him. Helplessly, you grab your phone and call Chan. 

“Hey, baby girl, I'm on my way home. Is everything-.”

“Channie,” you whimper. 

“What's wrong, baby?” he asks worriedly, putting you on speaker. 

“I hurt Min,” you tell him, hugging yourself tightly and sitting down on the sofa. 

“Hurt him how?” he asks nervously, taking a turn left. 

“I said some dumb stuff about him being responsible for my life turning to shit and that the accident was his fault,” you say, and it's quiet for a moment. “Chan?”

“Ynnie…please tell me you didn't,” Chan says lowly, heart sinking to his stomach. “Please tell me you didn't.”

“I'm sorry, Channie, I didn't mean it,” you whisper timidly. “I was just…I don't know what got into me.”

“I…fuck, okay, I'll be home in a bit,” he tells you, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. 

“Thank you,” you sniffle. 

Chan stares at his phone as you end the call and slams his hand on the wheel. “Fucks sake Ynnie, not when I finally convinced him otherwise,” he curses and finally reaches your street. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Chan quietly pulls the front door closed behind himself and swallows hard as he meets your anxious eyes. “Where is he?” he asks. 

“Upstairs,” you tell him. “Channie, I'm sorry,” you tell him, tears filling your eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

Chan sighs softly and opens his arms for you, pulling you into a tight hug as you get up. “I know you are. I know you're struggling, and I know we can't take that pain away,” he says, soothingly rubbing your back. “But baby girl, you can't forget Minho is a victim here too. He might have been the one driving, but he's also the one who saw you unconscious, covered in blood, and not knowing if you'd ever wake up again,” he tells you gently, without sounding like he's blaming you even a little. “He still feels guilty because he'd rather be the one getting hurt. He's been having nightmares and panic attacks and had a really hard time believing that it isn't his fault, you know?”

“I just fucked that up, didn't I?” you ask timidly. 

“I don't know,” he answers honestly. 

“I asked him if he was drunk,” you admit shamefully. 

Chan bites back a sigh, trying to be patient with you. “Okay, come on,” he says and pulls you to the sofa. “The police provided us the security camera footage, where you very clearly see who's at fault,” he says and grabs his phone, showing you the clip. 

You can see your car pulling up at the crossroads. Suddenly, a car races down the street from the right and crashes right into your side. It's raining heavily, making the road slippery and causing both cars to slide to the side a few meters. Once the video is over, you look at Chan horrified. 

“That other driver was drunk,” he tells you gently. “He was speeding, ignored a red light, and honestly, looking at this, it's a miracle you two are still alive. So please, don't blame anyone else but that guy, hm?” 

You nod quickly and chew on your lower lip anxiously. “Channie angel?”

“Yeah?” he asks gently. 

“Can you tell him I'm sorry? I don't think he wants to see me right now,” you say timidly. 

Chan nods and kisses your temple. “I will. We'll fix this, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, relieved. 

“I'll go check on him, alright?” he asks, and you nod bravely. Chan grabs a blanket and wraps you up in it, flashing you an encouraging smile. “We'll be okay.”

You timidly grab his hand and search his eyes. “I love you.”

Chan's face softens. “I love you too, baby girl.” 

-

Chan opens the door to the room he uses to work from home, suspecting that's where he'll find Minho. His heart breaks a little as he sees him sitting on the small sofa there, his legs hugged up to his chest. Minho's wearing a sweater of his, burying his face in its sleeves as he takes shaky breaths, clearly trying to calm down. He silently closes the door and walks over, kneeling down in front of him and soothingly rubbing his thighs. “Bunny?” he asks so softly Minho looks up with wide, teary eyes. It's a term reserved for their most private, intimate moments and it never fails to make Minho feel so safe and loved. 

He doesn't say anything, body moving on its own as he slips from the sofa and crawls right into his lap. Chan welcomes him with one of his most loving and healing hugs, nuzzling his nose into his hair. 

“I love you,” Chan whispers, cradling his head. Minho slumps against him, burying himself into his arms as deeply as he can, growing so small it breaks Chan's heart. 

“I'm so tired, Chan,” Minho says, voice raspy from crying. “I'm so fucking tired.”

“I know,” Chan says and turns with him in his hold, leaning against the sofa. “How can I help?”

“There's nothing you can do,” he answers quietly. “She hates me. I fucked up her life.”

“You really think that?” he asks patiently. 

“Doesn't matter. She does,” he says. 

“Do you?” he asks. “You think you fucked up her life?”

“Apparently, I'm not exactly making it easier,” he answers. “Since I'm the drunken, heartbroken, distracted fuck who got us into that accident.”

Chan mindlessly rubs his lower back. “Apparently…so you don't believe it.”

“I-” Minho grows quiet before pulling back and searching his eyes timidly. “Does that matter if she does?”

“To me, it does,” he nods. “You've been blaming yourself for months, saying the most hurtful shit about yourself…I think you made some progress,” he says calmly. 

“Not really,” he shakes his head. “The minute someone throws it at my face, I agree with them.”

“Bunny, can I tell you something?” he asks, and Minho nods tiredly. “She called me the minute you left, saying she fucked up. She asked me to tell you she's sorry because you probably wouldn't want to see her now.”

Minho's eyes fill with tears. “Really?” he asks timidly, and Chan nods. “I really thought she hated me now.”

Chan gently cups his face and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. “She doesn't, I promise.” 

Minho messily wipes his cheeks with the sleeves before stopping in his movement and groaning at himself. “Fuck, I completely messed up your sweater.”

“That's okay,” Chan giggles softly. “We can wash it.”

Minho hums and smiles shyly. “Just really needed you close after that,” he tells him. 

“You're so cute,” he smiles happily. “Also-” he gets interrupted by the door opening. The two of them look up and see you standing in the doorframe, shaking with sobs. 

Minho moves before Chan can fully comprehend the sight and wraps you into a tight hug. “Shh, honey, it's okay.”

You hug back tightly and shake your head. “Nothing is okay,” you sob. “I hurt you. Just be-because I can't cope with what's happening.”

“It's okay,” Minho whispers gently, caressing your head. “I promise we're okay.”

You timidly grab his sweater a little tighter and bury yourself into him. “I'm sorry, Min. You didn't fuck up anything,” you hiccup. “I love you so much.”

Minho buries his face in your shoulder and shakes his head. “I know,” he whispers and squeezes you gently. “I love you too, my pretty girl.” 

“I just wanna feel normal again,” you whimper, and Minho's hold on you tightens. 

“Try and give yourself some credit, honey. You went through some shit, and you're still dealing with the aftermath,” he says softly and kisses your hair. “Try being a little more patient with yourself.”

Chan smiles sadly, remembering himself saying something so similar to Minho only weeks ago when they went for a walk. So he did listen. 

Two weeks later

You anxiously meet your reflection in the mirror before staring down at your products on the sink. Chan said he'd take you both out to dinner, and you just wanted to look nice but you had trouble remembering your routines. You talked to your doctor about it, and she told you it's completely normal to get confused easily by those things at the moment. 

Minho walks into the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt, and flashes you a gentle smile. “You're alright, beautiful?” 

“Yeah,” you nod quickly and stare back down at your things. “I…I think I need help,” you tell him, glancing up at him as he fixes his hair. 

“Sure, what do you need?” he asks, not quite picking up on your struggle yet. Minho grabs your concealer and carefully hides the dark patches beneath his eyes. He's still not sleeping well, and it shows. 

“I uh, I forgot what I usually do,” you tell him, waving at the various items displayed at the sink. “Like…did I have some sort of routine? Because if I did it's nonexistent in my brain right now.”

“Oh,” he nods and puts your concealer back down. “Uh, I'm not sure, but I can still help,” he tells you, and you smile relieved. “One second,” he winks at you and leaves the room, coming back with a chair. “Alright, take a seat, honey.”

You giggle softly and do as you're told. Chan joins you, chuckling in confusion as he sees you. “Min's helping me, my brain is letting me down right now.”

“Oh,” he laughs and watches Minho grab some of your things. “Yeah, it's good you asked him and not me.”

“I had a feeling,” you tease him lovingly.

Chan chuckles and turns back to the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He fixes his hair that frames his face in those beautiful curls you love so much and you can see the frown forming on his face before it’s fully there. It’s beyond you how both of your husbands were this stunningly pretty and still had their trouble believing so, Chan much more than Min. “Channie?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “You look very handsome.”

Chan meets your eyes through the mirror, face softening. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says with a sweet, shy smile. Minho turns around, taking in the sight of his husband, and hums agreeingly before slapping his bum. Chan snorts and fondly rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“That’s your own fault wearing those trousers,” he smirks before getting started with helping you. “Who even allowed you to leave the house in those, huh? Surely not me. No one else should be allowed to see how well-.”

“Minho,” Chan whines in protest, blushing heavily. “Shut up, will you?”

Minho smiles softly and then you realize he must’ve noticed Chan’s insecurities getting the better of him as well. “Only because it’s you,” he tells him fondly. “So, I think you started like this,” he tells you. He talks you through it, checking in with you if what he’s doing makes sense, and tries his best to make you satisfied with the result. Only a little later you’re ready to go and thank him happily. “Always, princess,” he assures you kindly. “You need help with your hair as well?”

“No, thank you, darling,” you smile at him. “I’ll be done in a bit.”

“No rush, honey,” he tells you and kisses your cheek before leaving you some space. He joins Chan downstairs, who’s standing at the kitchen island, bent forward on his elbows as he checks his phone. Minho smiles at the sight and steps behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Chan gently intertwines their hands on his stomach and finishes his message to Lix with one hand. “You’re alright, kitten?”

“Yeah,” he nods and nuzzles his face into his neck. “Ah, you put on my favorite cologne,” he smirks, burying his nose deeper into his skin. 

Chan hums, agreeing, and turns off his phone, turning in his hold. He smiles as their eyes meet and gently nudges his nose with his own. “Pretty boy,” he whispers, and Minho blushes softly. “I miss you.”

“Miss me?” Minho frowns gently. “I’m right here, love.”

“No..like,” he leaves the sentence unfinished, gently squeezing Minho’s hips. 

“Oh,” Minho laughs brightly and kisses him sweetly. “I can stop by the company tomorrow, just make sure Sungie and Binnie aren’t around.”

“I think I can arrange that,” Chan chuckles, gently cupping his face.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish now,” Minho warns him, and Chan rolls his eyes, kissing him lovingly. Minho kisses back sweetly and pulls back soon, knowing Chan could get lost in kissing way too quickly. They really didn’t have time for this now. Not with you coming downstairs any minute, still finding your way back into your marriage. “Channie…is that place you picked in walking distance?” he asks. 

“I figured there’s a chance she doesn’t feel safe to drive yet, so yes,” he nods, and Minho hums, relieved. “Also, you aren’t exactly keen to sit in a car yet, either.”

“Not really,” he chuckles agreeingly. “Thank you, Channie.”

“For what?” he frowns softly.

“For being so considerate and caring,” he smiles, shaking his head as Chan is about to respond. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing now, I will kick you.”

“Oh,” Chan nods, holding back a laugh. 

“Idiot,” he giggles fondly, poking his side.

“I’m ready,” you interrupt them gently, standing a little away from them.

Chan smiles at you sweetly. “You look beautiful, baby girl,” he tells you, and you mirror his smile. 

“Our beautiful girl,” Minho agrees proudly, taking your hand and pulling you closer. “We should probably leave, right?”

Chan checks his watch. “Yeah, we should.”

You swallow softly and glance at them timidly. “Can I sit in the back?” you ask.

“I thought we could take a walk, it’s close by. If we’re lucky, we can see the stars on our way back home,” he says, watching your eyes brim with tears. “Or we can take the car?” he asks nervously.

“No,” you shake your head and laugh weakly. “I would prefer walking,” you assure him. “Thank you, Channie angel.”

“God, you two sometimes,” he breathes out, squeezing Min’s and your hand. “It’s nothing, really an-ey!” he breaks off in protest as Minho punches his shoulder.

“I told you, it’s not nothing. It means a lot, my love, and we’re very happy to have you,” he says. “Also, be glad I didn’t kick your pretty a-.”

“Okay,” Chan laughs and pulls you both with him. “Enough of this now, you’ll make me get all sappy, let’s go.”

-

You enjoy your first evening out immensely. It makes you feel less like something’s wrong with you. Both Chan and Minho focus mostly on you, making sure you’re alright and comfortable. The many smells and loud noises are overwhelming at first, and they try their best to distract you. Once you allow yourself to relax, things get easier. Dinner is delicious, but what truly makes your evening is the laughter, gentle touches, and the way they make sure you’re part of the conversation. 

On your walk home, you indeed see the stars painting the dark canvas of the night sky. You’re walking between them, holding onto their hands, and feel a lot closer to Chan as well. Minho occasionally points out constellations, sometimes playfully bickering with Chan about the correct name. You find yourself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in a while. You think about your day and suddenly stop in your tracks, leading to your husbands turning in confusion. 

“Y/nnie?” Chan frowns as your eyes fill with tears. “Are you okay?”

“I remember that place,” you breathe out, and they both stare at you with wide eyes. “We had dinner there the week we moved in, didn’t we? Channie, you spilled your drink all over Min’s pants. Min, you wouldn’t stop cursing because it got all sticky and-” you break off in wonder as your mind forms such vivid pictures of that day. 

Minho laughs wetly, a hot tear falling down his face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

Chan still stares at you in wonder before laughing weakly. “You remember?”

You nod happily, messily wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I know that’s not much, but-.”

“No, baby, this is huge,” Chan smiles through tears, wrapping you into a tight hug. “That’s your first breakthrough after only three weeks, baby.”

You giggle happily and beam at Minho, who’s still frozen in place. Reaching out for him, he takes your hand and lets you pull him into your hug. Minho cups your cheek and kisses your forehead softly. “I’m so happy for you,” he tells you genuinely.

-

Back home, as you prepare for bed, the weight of the day slowly settles on your shoulders. For the first time since you got back home it doesn’t feel like the burden of another wasted day but a blanket of comfort. It reminds you of the love and care that surrounds you in the presence of your husbands. Minho brushes your hair as Chan takes off your makeup for you, both as gentle as they can get.

As you lay in bed between them, the events of the past few weeks replay in your mind. The argument with Minho feels like a very distant memory now, simply a hurdle you’ve all overcome together. His forgiveness, his understanding, and his undying love for you feel like a balm for your wounded, anxious heart. Chan’s patience, kindness, and unwavering support for the two of you remind you of the strength of your bond.

In the quiet of the night, with Chan’s steady breathing on one side and Minho’s warm presence on the other, you feel a sense of peace lull you in. The road to your recovery would still be a long one, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any more challenges.

You whisper a quiet “I love you” into the darkness, and in the soft murmur of their responses, you find a promise—a promise of healing and a love that will never leave you. You don’t know why, but right here, you understand that no matter what comes your way, you’ll face it together as a family. With that thought, you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that with Chan and Minho by your side, you’ll be okay. You would talk to Chan about the distance you feel another day, and you’d work through your shared trauma with Minho another time, supporting him through his share of the deal as well. For today, you’re glad to be able to fall asleep between the loves of your life.

PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

If your name is marked red I couldn't tag you for some reason.

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @harshaaaaa @lost-in-avoidance @dprkbyn @bear8585 @lee-knows-cats @mintchip17 @zdgx1 @lost-in-avoidance @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj

#stray kids #skz #chan #minho #minchan #bangchan #lee know #poly!stray kids #poly!skz #chan fic #chan x reader #chan fluff #chan angst #minho fic #minho x reader #minho angst #minho fluff #minchan fic #minchan x reader #minchan fluff #minchan angst #bangchan fic #bangchan fluff #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #lee know fic #lee know angst #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader

[slytherinshua]

　　　verivery masterlist ⟡₊ ⊹

⋆˙⟡ = author's pick !

　　　　dongheon

nothing yet . . .

　　　　hoyoung

husband hoyoung headcanons

genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 1.3k.

　　　　minchan

all your imperfections ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 1.2k.

　　　　gyehyeon

lovesick ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. hospital au. | wc: 1.6k.

just pretend

genre: fluff. fake dating. friends to lovers | wc: 1.4k.

the little mole under your eye (req) ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. comfort. | wc: 689.

　　　　yeonho

nothing yet . . .

　　　　yongseung

summer kisses ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 544.

　　　　kangmin

super special

genre: fluff. period comfort. | wc: 814.

skin care ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 589.

#divider by cafekitsune #﹒slytherinshua 𓈃 ⵌ #verivery #verivery dongheon #verivery hoyoung #verivery minchan #verivery gyehyeon #verivery yeonho #verivery yongseung #verivery kangmin #verivery fluff #verivery fic #verivery fanfic #lee dongheon #bae hoyoung #hong minchan #jo gyehyeon #ju yeonho #kim yongseung #yoo kangmin #dongheon fluff #hoyoung fluff #minchan fluff #gyehyeon fluff #yeonho fluff #yongseung fluff #kangmin fluff #fluff #fanfic #fic

[aesteraceae]

Boiling Over

Pairing: Minho/Chan, Minho & Chan

Rating: Gen

Summary: Chan has a nasty habit of throwing his health to the wind, and when his mind finally cracks under the pressure, Minho is there to help him through it.

Word count: 4.1k

Tags under the cut!

Tags: SFW, Age regression, hurt/comfort, stress relief, Chan is overworking himself as usual, Minho has Things To Say about that, angst, little Bang Chan, Caregiver Lee Minho, stim toys, panic attacks, crying, autistic Bang Chan

Also posted on ao3 here.

Notes: This will be part of a series of Chan age regressing because I am contractually obligated to project on Chan whenever I can. This is also for his birthday. No I'm not 2 weeks late shut UP.

Also, this fic isn't explicitly romantic in any sense beyond Chan calling Minho pretty like once, I wrote it with the implication that they like eachother (bc I'm a minchan truther at heart) but you can 1000% read this fic as platonic with no trouble at all.

Tags: @simpracha @sunnyville36 @toastyseungmo @sstarryyoong @decaffedthoughts @bunnypig18 @xcookiemonsteer

This is not going well.

Chan forces himself not to slam the studio door behind him, slumping down into his desk chair and shoving his hands into his hair.

His entire morning was spent talking with department executives and marketing managers and other producers, all asking him the same question; when will the next title track be ready.

And Chan has had to tell every single one of them, multiple times, that no it isn't finished and yes he's working on it and no he doesn't need any help.

It's almost finished, is the thing. He has the guide, tentative lyrics, he's even shown it to the other members, but he doesn't like it.

He's been doing this a very long time, he knows what a good song sounds like, knows what he's capable of making, and this is so far from his best he's terrified to show it to anyone.

The other members said they liked it, of course, but Chan knows better than to take their words at face value. He doesn't think they'd lie out of malice, of course, but they can all see the way Chan has been... Strung a little tighter than usual, lately.

He wouldn't put it past them to just say the song is good to not anger him or stress him out further. And he can't even blame them, really— if anyone said anything about the song to him right now, positive or otherwise, he doesn't know what he'll do.

Break something, probably. Or cry.

He wants to do both right now, but he shoves the urges away and opens up the editing software. He grabs his headphones a bit too hard and knocks over their stand, and he just watches it clatter to the floor, loudly.

He leaves it there.

Maybe kicks it a little, just for good measure.

It's probably not good to let this anger simmer underneath the surface like this, especially if one of the others comes to check on him, but he doesn't have time to go blow off steam in the gym.

Instead, he puts his headphones on and opens the file, shoving his anger into a box to be dealt with later.

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Chan's anger never lingers, at least not when it's because of stress.

By that night, nearing 2 in the morning, all of his anger has fizzled out into bone-deep exhaustion.

His ears ache under the headphones, but he left his earbuds in the dorms so he ignores the pain. Similarly, something in his back keeps sending sharp pains throughout his body every time he shifts wrong, and it's unpleasant, but it fades after a moment so he doesn't bother worrying about it.

He's listening to a new version of the track when he feels the anger starting to bubble up again, except it's decided to show itself in tears this time rather than violence.

He will not cry over a song, he won't.

But it's horrible. It feels like every change he makes somehow makes the song worse, even the tricks he's relied on in the past. He's searched for inspiration, looked at old songs, even rewritten entire sections but it's still wrong.

He claws the headphones off and presses his hands into his eyes until bright colors flash behind them, forcing the tears back. The burn of it forces his brain to reconnect with his body, and he realizes that he hurts all over.

How long has he been sitting here?

Shakily, he reaches for his phone.

There's a few messages in the group chat, an email from the project designer that he swiftly ignores, and 3 missed calls from Minho.

Fuck.

He's trying to calculate the math of how long he's been in here and how he missed his ringtone 3 times in a row when someone knocks on the door.

Chan considers not answering, pretending the room is empty. He can't let anyone else see him in this state, he cant. tears are clinging to his lashes, he's in pain, and he doesn't even remember the last time he slept.

There's a moment when he thinks it will work, if he stays very still, but then the door clicks open.

Minho pushes into the room, placing his key card neatly back into his bag.

He looks like he just got out of the shower, hair still damp and fluffy, cheeks still a bit flushed from the heat. He's pretty, because Minho always is, and Chan almost says so before he gets a hold of himself.

"Minho!" He says, instead, running hands through his hair both to tame the rat's nest it must be and to hide how wet his eyes are.

Fuck, his back hurts. When did just moving his arms over his head start to hurt this badly?

"Chan. It's like 2 in the morning, why are you still working?"

Minho has that disapproving look in his eyes, dark and unquestionable. He must be here to drag Chan back to the dorms, but he can't go back yet, not with the song like this.

"Oh, you know how it is. I, uh, got in the zone, I guess."

Minho shoots him an unimpressed look and reaches into his bag, pulling out a bottle of water.

He must have grabbed it from the breakroom downstairs, and the tiniest sliver of affection breaks through the panic buzzing through his veins.

He doesn't wait for Chan to take the bottle, just uncaps it and forces it into his hand. Chan knows better than to fight when Minho gets like this, so he drinks.

And... Fuck.

The water feels like heaven in his mouth, cool and refreshing and perfect. His head relents in its pounding, and he slumps down into the chair.

Minho passes him another bottle and takes the empty one, and Chan doesn't have to look at him to see his disapproving look.

"How long have you been working in here?" Minho asks, picking up his headphone stand from across the room. Huh, he'd almost forgotten about that.

"Couple hours," He lies, trying and failing to figure out the real answer. For some reason he can't wrap his brain around the numbers, the passage of time — he isn't sure when he even got here, just that it was daytime... Maybe morning? Noon?

"Bullshit. None of us have even seen you today, and you missed dinner. What's going on?"

Chan ducks under the anger in Minho's voice, trying to hide the tremor in his hands.

"Nothing's going on," He tries, "I promise I'm fine. I grabbed something from downstairs a little while ago." It's a flimsy lie, and he knows it doesn't land the moment he finishes speaking.

Minho just clicks his tongue and walks over to the trashcan in the corner, perfectly empty. The studio is immaculate, no trace of a wrapper or package.

Minho is silent for a long moment, only speaking when Chan starts to squirm, practically burning alive with the awkwardness and disapproval. He doesn't know why it's bothering him so much, but Minho looks upset, upset with Chan, and it almost hurts worse than his back.

"I thought we agreed not to lie to eachother, Chan." Minho finally says, and there's a hint of pain, there, under the anger.

Chan honest to God whines, trying to curl in on himself and stopping with a wince. He doesn't want to lie, especially not to Minho. He doesn't want to be a disappointment, doesn't want to be bad.

Minho doesn't like being lied to, he hates it, they've had so many arguments over little white lies that Chan or the others didn't think we're important but hurt Minho deeply. Chan knows Minho hates being lied to, but here he is doing it, without a second thought.

He's horrible.

"M' sorry," He mumbles, twisting his fingers into his jeans. He's being bad, and Minho is disappointed in him, and he has every right to be.

Part of Chan is screaming to correct the issue, but a far stronger part wants to sit in this discomfort, squirm under Minho's pained and angry gaze. He deserves it, Chan thinks. It's a fitting enough punishment, this gnawing ache in his chest that begs for praise forced to receive the opposite.

It hurts, but Chan deserves it for being bad, for hurting Minho.

... Wait.

Chan blinks, vision refocusing on a spot on the wall. Being bad?

No. No no no no no-

"I'm really okay," He says, a little bit frantic, heart rate picking up, because this cannot be happening.

The only reason he'd be thinking like that, thinking he deserves punishment or that he was being bad is if he was slipping, and that cannot happen with Minho in here.

"I'll be back home in an hour, okay?" He says, spinning in the chair so he doesn't have to look at Minho. Something about him being here is making Chan slip, hard, And maybe looking away would solve the issue. He just has to get Minho to leave, then he can handle this on his own and everything will be fine.

"No, you've been here long enough. I'm taking you home."

No.

"Min, I'm not-"

Minho just holds up a hand, pulling Chan's chair away from the desk and back to face him.

"This isn't a discussion. I won't let you weasel your way out of it, either— you've been in here for at least nine hours, that's enough. You need food and sleep."

"I'm fine. I'll grab something from downstairs, alright? But I really need to get this finished."

Minho doesn't answer— he just reaches over the desk to save the file. Chan doesn't realize what he's doing until his hand shifts to the power button, clicking off his laptop.

"Minho!" Chan snaps, trying to swat his hands away, but Minho just closes the laptop and shoves it into his bag, zipping it up tight.

"Are you seriously— Minho, give that back!"

Minho ignores him, grasping his arm and pulling. Chan stumbles out of the chair, and any other day it would be perfectly fine, but his back immediately protests at the movement.

He collapses down to his knees, trying to breathe through the pain and keep himself from crying. He will not cry in front of Minho, he won't.

"Chan? Hey, what's wrong?" Minho is crouched in front of him, anger entirely forgotten in favor of worry.

And Chan tries, he really does, but his back hurts and he knows he's already crying, and he can feel his grip on everything sensible slipping away.

"Leave," He begs, even though he knows it's futile. Minho won't leave him like this because he's a good friend, and he cares, and right now that care is going to burn Chan alive.

"I'm not going anywhere, Chan. I'm right here. You're safe, I've got you."

Chan whines against his will, listing forward, further into Minho's arms. He takes him easily, sitting completely on the floor to pull Chan into his lap. And Chan goes, because Minho feels so much bigger than him right now. He doesn't stand a chance at resisting, and he wants to sit in Minho's lap, wants to cry into his shoulder and know that the world won't end once he's done.

"Min..." He mumbles, wet and pathetic and sad, and Minho makes a noise like a wounded animal.

"Come here, Chan." He urges, even as Chan tucks his head into Minho's neck.

He puts a hand on Chan's neck, gently playing with the hair curling there, and the other slips underneath his shirt to rub massaging circles into the small of his back.

Chan doesn't even stand a chance— he drops so hard and so fast that he has to blink his vision back into focus.

His eyes slip right back closed, though, because Minho is still massaging him, both his neck and back, steadily loosening the knots and aches there.

It's good, it's blissful, and Chan lets his mind go entirely blank.

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

The thing with Chan is that he never knows when to quit.

Well, that's not quite true. Most of the time, he's perfectly happy to quit, when necessary; scrapping a song or going back to the foundations of a dance, but sometimes, like now, he gets so caught up in finishing something that he can't even fathom the idea of stopping.

Minho knew Chan was spiraling, he’s known since this morning when Chan refused breakfast and left the dorms in a hurry for a meeting. He knew when he didn’t respond in the group chat, he knew when Chan missed three of his calls in a row.

Guilt settles deep in Minho's stomach as he holds Chan, shuddering and shaking and hurting. He talked himself out of dragging Chan back for dinner because he thought he was worrying too much, but now he cant help but think that he didn’t worry enough. There are headphone marks around his ears, for god's sake.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just relax, Chan, I’ve got you.” And god, Minho didn’t think it was possible to feel fondness and fear at the same time, but here he is. Chan nuzzles further into his neck, trembling all over, and Minho has absolutely no idea what to do. Chan rarely cries in front of them, and even if he does the very last thing he wants is to be comforted.

It makes Minho’s chest hurt, sometimes, how insanely solitary Chan gets when he’s upset, but this is almost worse. He’s so far gone that Chan cant help but cling to him. Minho blinks tears back.

“Let’s get you to the couch, yeah? Come on, Channie, it’ll be more comfy there.” Chan whines, unwilling to move, so Minho does something a bit stupid.

He shifts Chan just enough that he can loop his arm underneath his legs, settling the other around his back.

Chan is heavy, but not too heavy for Minho to carry a few feet. He settles them back onto the couch, lying down so Chan can stretch his back a bit. The new position seems to switch something in Chan, and his sobs quiet, somewhat. He slips one of his arms up to cup Minho’s neck, like he’s… Oh. Like he’s feeling his heartbeat. His ear is pressed right over his heart, as well.

God, Minho is going to explode from all of this sympathy one day.

“That’s it,” He soothes, “I'm here. Feel my heartbeat? Try and breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?” The words come easy — Years of helping the other members through panic and anxiety attacks make things like this nearly second nature. In any other scenario Minho might feel awkward about speaking to Chan like this — not condescending, exactly, but something akin to it — but right now, anything else feels like a cardinal sin. Chan needs softness, right now; he needs a gentle voice to guide him, to remind him that its okay for him to relax.

It takes him a while, maybe 10 minutes, to completely match Minho’s breathing, but he’s so determined that it's almost cute. His voice hiccups every now and then and Minho can see the frustration on his face, but he just tries again with the same determination.

Minho is besotted. He knows it, and he doesn't really try to hide the love in his eyes as he looks down at Chan, whispering sweet encouragements into his ear as his breathing steadily evens out.

“Good job, Chan,” he whispers, when the last of the tension drains out of his shoulders. Chan hums and shifts to look up at him, eyes wide and glossy and vulnerable, and Minho forgets how to breathe.

“I was good?” He whispers, voice rough from crying but still somehow higher than normal, so sweet that Minho has to take a long, deep breath before he can respond. “So good. Look, you’re breathing smooth again, right?”

Chan nods, settling his head back against Minho’s chest, and Minho almost feels bad for being relieved, but Christ. That look, his eyes, so trusting and soft and loving, its—

It’s a lot.

It’s good.

“Breathing with Hyung,” Chan says, sweet, almost sing-song, and Minho…

Hm.

Minho starts to pet Chan's hair again, smiling when he melts against his chest, and takes advantage of it to think.

Minho knows a lot of things. He’s researched a lot of things, either for Jisung or Felix or Jeongin, ways to deal with stress or handle panic attacks or sensory overloads, anything he might need to make sure he knew what to do if one of the members needed him.

This… Minho thinks he knows what this is.

It would make sense, really. Chan joined the company at 13, barely a teenager and still very much a child, put into a stress-filled environment in a new country alone. It would make perfect sense for Chan to cope with that stress by regressing into a younger age, where he wouldn't have to think about training or producing.

That guilt pokes at him again — Chan has been stressing over this song for ages, and Minho knew, but he thought Chan could handle it, or at least that Chan would ask Jisung or Changbin for help.

None of that mattered now, though. Now Chan needs him, and they can talk about asking for help later.

“Hyung?”

Minho has to bite his lip to keep from cooing at how cute Chan sounds, schooling his expression into something calm and attentive.

"Yeah, baby?"

Chan takes a moment to preen at the nickname, but takes a deep breath and sobers. Minho can't help but frown— the serious expression, while familiar, doesn't seem to suit Chan, right now.

"I'm sorry for lying. 'was mean. I know you don' like it, but I was scared. Sorry."

Minho's heart breaks.

A million microscopic pieces, each and every one sucked into Chan's eyes, big and just the slightest bit teary.

"Oh, Darling. It's okay, I understand. It's okay to be scared." He bites his lip before continuing, but... well. It did hurt, and Minho would only feel worse about it if he didn't even express it.

"But, baby, in the future, you can just tell me what's wrong. I promise, I won't judge or be angry with you for telling the truth, okay?"

Chan nods, crawling up slightly to tuck his head underneath Minho's chin.

"I will, promise."

Minho can't help himself, he presses a soft kiss against Chan's hair. "Thank you for apologizing, baby. You're very sweet."

Chan is silent for a moment, and then—

"Chan?" Minho yelps, gasping a little, because Chan is... sucking on his collarbone?

He jerks back, already babbling out apologies, but Minho pets his cheek to soothe him. "It's okay, it's okay, I was just startled, baby, that's all."

Chan quiets, staring down at his hands in his lap, and there's something in his eyes, a hint of awareness, and... well. Maybe it's a bit selfish, but Minho doesn't want Chan to come out of this headspace just yet. He seems relaxed, less worn down by racing thoughts, more willing to be honest and ask for what he needs.

And Minho wants to provide. He wants to keep helping Chan like this, and maybe it does make him selfish, but Chan needs this, and Minho won't deny him.

"Here, can you hop off of me for a moment, little one?" The nickname does the trick— Chan whines a little and backs up so Minho can move, leaning against the couch like he can't sit up on his own. It's adorable, and Minho moves quickly so he can hold Chan again.

He brought his bag up here because he suspected that Chan would need some things— water, earbuds, painkillers— but there's also a little pocket full of stuff for Seungmin. Noise-canceling headphones, a few stim toys, and what Minho's after now, chewable toys.

Headphones are probably a bad idea now so he leaves those, but he takes out everything else and spreads them out in his hands.

The chewable toys are brand new— they're in the bag for emergencies, but Seungmin is just as overly prepared as he is so they're hardly ever needed — so he opens one of the bags and offers it to Chan.

"You can bite and suck on this for now, okay?"

Chan takes it tenderly, looking awestruck. "But... this is yours?"

Minho puts the other toys on the side table and sits beside him again, suppressing a smile when Chan immediately burrows back into his side.

"They're for whoever needs them, and I think you need them right now. I can... get you something else later, once we've talked about it, but if you just want something to do with your mouth, that should help."

Minho adds a few more things to his list of Things To Talk to Chan About When He's Big Again. Pacifiers, maybe, and Minho specifically caring for him, definitely.

Chan eyes the toy warily for a moment, like he doesn't believe that he can actually have it, but eventually he bites down on it.

His eyes light up.

He doesn't really chew it so much as he sucks on it, but his eyes droop a little and his shoulders slump.

Maybe Minho doesn't entirely suck at this, at least.

"There we go. Is that better?"

Chan nods, eyes slipping fully closed.

"Good. Come on, I'll put on some music, how about that?"

Chan perks up at that, slipping the toy out of his mouth to babble, "Can you sing? Please, Hyung? I'll be good!"

Minho blinks, "You don't have to be good." It comes out without his permission, but he doesn't backtrack. "I don't want you to worry about being good or not disobeying. You're perfect, Chan."

Chan stares at him for a beat, and then he breaks. He whines, high in the back of his throat, and tears flood over his cheeks in waves.

"Whoa, baby, baby, it's okay," Minho is on him in an instant, pulling Chan into his arms and rocking them like he did before.

"M' not, not perfect, not-" He cuts himself off with a painful-sounding hiccup, and Minho's heart aches.

"Shh, little one, it's okay." He says, growing frantic, because it isn't working. Chan is trembling, and instead of hugging Minho back he's covering his face, sobbing into his hands instead of Minho's chest. This is different, this is new, and Minho needs a different approach.

So. He sings.

It starts out shaky, because he's on the verge of tears himself and hasn't sung at all today, but he settles into it easily.

It's a song Chan wrote for him months ago, unreleased because he hasn't had the time to record it. It's short, unfinished, and Minho prays that it'll work.

He's on the second chorus before he notices any change, and it feels like the first sip of water in a desert. Chan shudders, cries quieting, finally tucking his head into Minho's neck.

He tightens his grip, remembering that Chan liked tight hugs, and he breathes.

He sings through the end of the song and Chan finally stops sobbing, just tiny little whimpers against Minho's chest, and he leans them back against the couch.

"I've got you," He murmurs, thinking of the first lines to Chan's favorite song, "I've got you, baby."

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Chan wakes up a few hours later, cheeks itchy with dried tears and more relaxed than he's felt in years.

He's... hm. He's lying on Minho's chest.

Minho is asleep, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyelids shift, and Chan can't help but settle back against his chest.

Minho hums, readjusting his hand to hold Chan a little more securely.

"Go back to sleep, little one," He murmurs, voice thick with sleep and fondness.

Jesus. He hasn't slipped up like that in front of someone since he was a trainee.

Chan flushes pink, hazy memories flooding back. He remembers crying, a lot, calling Minho hyung...

Chan can feel mortification creeping up on him, but Minho must notice that he isn't relaxing, because he tightens his grip. One of his hands comes up to hold the back of Chan's head, guiding his ear over Minho's chest.

The steady thump-thump thump-thump of Minho's heartbeat makes Chan melt, against all his better wishes.

"...thank you, hyung."

#stray kids #dahlia writes #bang chan #lee minho #skz #skz fluff #minchan #this was a bitch and 3 quarters to post tumblr my beloathed

[minchanchivo]

Unforgettable Moment 🐺🐰

https://x.com/mnchnknow?t=xaX7TwHGBmrTmN4SnCCzBA&s=09

#minchan #stray kids #minchan smut #skz #skz fanart #stray kids au #skz au #skz edits #lee know #skz lee know #bang chan #skz bang chan #skzoo #skzoo fanart #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz ships #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids moodboard #digital art #bang chan fanart #lee know fanart #bangchan fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fanfic #bangchan fanfic #minchan fanart #stray kids fanfic #straykids fanart

[nusquam-cordis]

“=⌕ [h.minchan; stop! reading time] //﹫

h.minchan x reader (fem! in mind); fluff; 443 words

PREMISE: you two were supposed to read a book. of course, it escalated.

as the snowflakes slowly fell on the ground, making piles of white powder snow covering the city, you snuggled up in the arms of your boyfriend. the comfy, big blanket covering you two and warm tea made sure none of you would catch a cold. the christmas lights underneath the ceiling blinked from time to time, creating a one-of-a-kind atmosphere. a satisfied smile appeared on your face when minchan started brushing your hair with his fingers.

“can i flip to the next page?” he asked, looking at you and then at the book he held. it was another of your reading-together sessions, but this time you focused on something totally different.

“what?” looking at him and frowning, you remembered what you two were doing. or at least, what you were supposed to do. spotting the book in minchan’s hands, you giggled innocently, trying to cover up your distraction. “uh, yeah...”

“you sure?”

“yes?” mission failed miserably since the hesitation in your voice was showing very much, definitely not convincing your boyfriend. he raised his eyebrow and stuck his gaze in you, trying to say: “are you sure about that?”, which quickly brought results. “no...”

the apologetic look you gave him made his heart melt. tilting his head a bit, minchan put the book beside you two and fixed the blanket, so it covered you even more. then, hugging you, he rested his head in the crook of your neck. his slow and calm breathing made you tickle, so little giggles escaped your mouth from time to time, and when hearing that, minchan smiled. after couple breaths, he lifted his head, and after giving you a series of small kisses on your shoulder, he pulled you even closer to him.

“did you know?” he started, looking you deeply in the eyes when you turned to him.

“did i know what?”

“that i’m in love with you.”

you laughed nervously. that was cheesy as hell, yet it was awfully cute. you had to admit, even if you hated these, you needed such small things and reassurances from time to time. it made you flustered though, especially when it was so unexpected. but when would it be expected?

after covering your face with your hands, you finally looked at him. smiling widely and joyfully, you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers, tucking his hair behind his ear with your other hand.

“did you know?” now you wanted to make him cringe a bit.

“did i know what?”

“that i have the best boyfriend, which happened to be you, and i couldn't be happier than i am now. i love that i’m in love with you.”

TAGLIST: @slytherinshua @ahncosette @blue-jisungs

#writing time #fic: minchan #fic: verivery #hong minchan #verivery #verivery fluff #minchan verivery

[softiejoon]

it's stupid, he knows, but sometimes minho thinks you love chan a little more.

there are no ill feelings to the sentiment, and he doesn't harbour any bitterness towards either of you for it. in fact, sometimes, he considers it only natural that you do. you've known chan longer than you've known him; not by much, but he understands there's a certain familiarity that comes only with time. the two of you are similar in a lot of ways, leading to constant sighs and eye-rolls on minho's end. especially when you and chan start a slew of terrible jokes or fuel each other’s squeals during movie nights. it’s common that minho falls asleep trying to keep up with the hour-long conversations you and chan have in bed, and, more often than not, he chooses to bury his head into the pillow rather than participate in your early-morning sweet nothings. you and chan simply share more love languages, minho concludes, and it's never bothered him before. if anything, he finds himself annoyingly endeared by your antics. for some reason, though, he can't shake the thought of it today.

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

the following day, minho is reading in bed when you come home. he hears your keys drop into their place by the kitchen counter and your footsteps as you pad into the entryway. he knows your routine like clockwork: you deposit your things and have a glass of water in the kitchen; you check to make sure the door is locked and survey the shoe rack to determine who's home. then, on the way to your room, you head into chan’s studio to straighten his desk, and say hi to minho before stepping into the shower.

this time, as minho mentally maps your route, he hears you head straight for the bathroom. his brow furrows and he places the book down. a minute later, the water runs.

:-゜・．

"min?" your whisper of his name wakes him.

he sits up and rubs a hand over his face, blinking to make out your figure in the dark. you hadn't come to bed after your shower, mumbling a 'no thanks' when he'd asked you to join him. you didn't want to sleep yet, you said. the television was playing distantly in the living room when minho fell asleep.

"kitten?" his voice is raspy. yours is stuck in your throat.

you crawl into his arms without waiting for him to open them. minho doesn't miss a beat, gathering you towards him as he pulls the covers over both of you. his hand comes away wet when he runs the back of it over your cheek.

"what's wrong, angel?"

you sag against him, unwilling to respond.

"are you hurt?" he feels you shake your head, but you don't say anymore, so he opts for the question chan always does when you're upset. "do you want to talk about it?"

you're quiet for so long that minho thinks you might have fallen asleep; that is, until your breathing becomes uneven and he feels his shirt dampen where you lean against him.

"shh." he hopes he sounds soothing, rocking you gently in his hold. "it's okay." you tighten your grip on him but the pace of your breaths only seems to quicken.

minho feels his own worry rise; it's rare that you ever cry in his arms. of course, you've found comfort in him plenty of times before, but usually chan is the one wiping away your tears. he's good with words in a way minho thinks he’ll never be. instinctively, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

"it's okay, kitten. i'll get channie, okay?"

you shake your head quickly, reaching out to grab his hand. "no," you croak.

"he's not here?" minho frowns. chan always makes an effort to be home by midnight, even if he’s in his studio.

"want you," you whimper, wrapping his arm back around you.

minho's heart stutters. you want him to take care of you?

"just me?" he whispers, because he can't help but be a little selfish when it comes to you.

your words are muffled by his shirt, but he hangs onto each syllable. "just you."

if you weren't so upset, he would have laughed. not at you, but at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought that bothered him yesterday. how could he have missed it before?

it’s you who nags them about eating regular meals when minho isn’t around or feeling up to it. it’s you who hums songs around the apartment like he does, singing in the shower when you think no one’s listening. it’s you who indulges minho in his pudding fixation, searching new ones out and sending pictures to him at the store. and it was you who sat alone, craving your love’s affection, before remembering all you had to do was ask for it.

"i'm here, kitten. always here for you, hm?" you snuggle into him, breathing calmer than before. "always gonna be here for you. channie too."

you shift positions so that your head lays over his chest, listening intently to his heart beat. he wonders if you can hear just how hard it thumps when he thinks of you.

it's stupid, he realises, to think you ever loved one of them more.

~

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