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godslino · 4 months

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2:45a.m. | minho established relationship. fluff. dad!minho.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k summary: when a storm hits, minho makes sure your daughter is able to fall back asleep

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You’re not sure what wakes you first: the crack of thunder or the resulting cry.

Your entire body jolts, the room painted in a flash of white that disappears just as quickly as it came. The weather report had stated that there would be a storm, however ones this bad were uncommon, especially in Seoul.

Another cry. It crackles through the baby monitor on the nightstand at the same time it echoes off of the walls of the other room. You move to kick the covers off when an arm stops you, warm and heavy where it’s thrown over your waist. You instantly relax into the touch, sighing when the tip of a nose brushes against the shell of your ear.

“I got her,” Minho mumbles, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It’s okay. You have an early morning, I can do it.” You argue, but make no move to get up.

Minho doesn’t respond, instead he knocks a kiss to your temple and tightens the blanket around you once he’s out of bed. You hear the soft pads of his feet against the floor and crack one eye open just in time to see him slip out of the room, his voice floating into the hallway, ‘Uh oh, what happened to the princess?’

The way the crying stops almost immediately is proof enough that it was a good thing Minho went in place of you. Seola is a fussy baby; she cries loud and wants incessantly—more than the usual ten month old. She can’t go anywhere without her elephant binky and hates wearing hats, if she doesn’t like a food she’ll snap her lips shut and turn her head until her face is pressed into the back of the high chair, when she’s angry she shakes a tiny fist in your direction and pounds it against your arm. But perhaps the most difficult thing, the one that has you wanting to pull your hair out most of the time, is that sometimes the only way to calm her down is if Minho is the one to do it.

A part of you always knew that your baby would favor Minho, as funny as it sounds. When you first got pregnant, one of the things the two of you were most excited for was being able to feel the baby kicking. Minho sang to your belly every night after you first broke the news, even as you laughed and told him that he or she didn’t have ears yet.

“So?” he questioned, glaring at you from where he had his head pressed against the bare skin of your stomach.

“You also know you don’t have to lift my shirt up, right?”

“Yeah? Well then I can’t do this,” he’d said before blowing a raspberry straight onto your belly button. His laughter then quickly turned into a string of apologies as he came to the realization that the sound might have been too loud, his hand rubbing soothing circles along the lower part of your stomach while you watched with fond eyes.

Minho never missed a night. He made sure that he was always home before you went to bed when he could be, oftentimes fighting with his manager to be let out early or skip practice entirely, promising to show up early the next day and put in the work on his own time. On the nights where he couldn’t make it or the two of you were separated by distance that made him want to give it all up, he called and made you press the speaker into your gradually hardening baby bump.

You and Minho found out that you were having a girl on the day of the first snow. The two of you watched with tear-filled eyes as the ultrasound technician pointed to the monitor in excitement, her smile detectable even beneath the mask she had covering her face.

“Congratulations! It’s a girl!”

Minho called his mom first. Her shouts of joy were so loud that he had to hold the phone away from his ear, his smile the brightest that you’d ever seen. Pride. He was so proud of his little family that he thought his heart might burst.

You called your parents next, and Minho held the phone up so that the two of you could give them the news through the camera, his free hand squeezing yours tightly as you cried and told them that you couldn’t wait for them to come visit once the baby came.

The members were last, all seven of them piled on top of one another on the couch in the practice room, Hyunjin and Changbin fighting over the fact that ‘I can’t see, asshole!’ and ‘You’re tall enough just stand in the back!’

Finding out the gender of the baby made everything more real. Bows and dresses and frilly socks—every time Minho came back to the apartment he had a shopping bag hanging from his arm. He spent most of the time on his phone looking at baby things and stuff that was completely unnecessary.

“What about this?” he asked, pointing his phone down to where your head was resting in his lap.

“Minho,” you scolded, glancing up at him with furrowed eyebrows, “I am not buying a booger straw for the baby.”

“It’s not a booger straw—”

“That is one hundred percent a booger straw. You literally have to suck the boogers out of their nose. Can’t we just buy a nasal suction like normal people?”

“What if it’s not efficient enough? I hate when my nose is stuffy, what more our baby? She won’t even be able to communicate with us, I feel so bad for her.”

“Oh God,” you groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over your face as Minho continued to explain in thorough detail why a booger straw was a necessity in that very moment, even though your due date was still months away.

As time passed and your stomach grew, so did the nerves Minho had about not being present enough. With the nature of his career, it was hard for him to not feel like he wasn’t excessively absent most of the time. Stress took a toll on him, mentally and physically. It wore him thin until the circles under his eyes were the worst you’d ever seen and his mornings couldn’t start without a mandatory dosage of ibuprofen to dull the headache he had the minute he woke up.

Minho was doubtful. He had dreams that his daughter wouldn’t know who he was and that his moments with her would be spent through a phone call rather than with his arms wrapped around her tiny body. He felt like he had already failed a million times without ever even having the chance to prove himself.

On the night the baby kicked for the first time, Minho came home late.

Pregnancy fatigue had taken its toll on you that day. You’d remained in bed, too nauseated to move and aching throughout the entire expanse of your back. Minho worried the moment he woke up, but you’d urged him that you were okay and sent him on his way to the company, practically begging him to leave rather than to deal with another earful from his manager about absences. Luckily for you, his mom was able to come over, and you let her dote on you as well as cook and clean as much as she pleased.

You’d fallen asleep early, your stomach full of homemade food and blankets freshly washed, leaving Minho in a frazzled state because you hadn’t picked up his calls for his nightly belly-singing session. To top it all off, dance practice ran late because of a last minute formation change that needed to be perfected before the next day’s performance.

When he finally made it home, Minho booked it to the bedroom, dropping to his knees next to the bed to place his hands on your stomach as you slept peacefully on your side, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow.

Sometimes, unbeknownst to you, Minho would wake in the middle of the night and talk to your stomach, talk to the baby. It was a little self-indulgent, some alone time for him to speak all of his worries, fears, hopes, and dreams out into the world. That night, it was just them again. Just Minho and the baby.

“I’m home,” he’d said quietly, rubbing soft circles into the material of your shirt, “Daddy’s sorry he’s late. It’s snowing outside, so I couldn't drive too fast.” He waited a few seconds before starting to sing, his voice soft, quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake you up:

펄, 펄, 눈이 옵니다

peol, peol, the snow is falling

하늘에서 눈이 옵니다

the snow is falling from the sky

하늘 나라 선녀님들이

the heavenly seonyeos

송이 송이 하얀 솜을

the white cotton

자꾸 자꾸 뿌려 줍니다

it keeps sprinkling

Minho had moved forward once he was done, resting his cheek against your stomach as gently as possible. He let his eyes focus on the snow falling outside the window, the city covered in a thin blanket of white.

“You’re gonna need a name soon, huh?” he asked, lightly drumming his fingers against your belly. “We found out you were a girl on the first snow, did you know that? My little snow girl. My—wait. Seola means snow girl. That’s pretty, right? Do you like that?”

Minho, not expecting a response, nearly screamed when he felt the softest of thumps against the skin of your stomach, just beneath the palm of his hand.

“What—” Kick.

“B-Babe.” He said, louder this time, sitting up straight to stare at your stomach with wide eyes. You stirred awake, shifting slightly to crack an eye open.

“Minho? You’re home? What are you—”

“Has she been kicking?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself up to rest your back against the headboard. “No, of course not, I would’ve told you if she did. Why? Did something—” You were cut off by the strongest kick yet, your hand flying to your stomach.

“Seola.” Minho had said again, his voice cracking halfway through when another kick came before he could even finish speaking.

From that moment on, Minho knew in his heart that your daughter’s name was always meant to be Seola. He’d talk endlessly about how he would always treat the first snow of the year like a second birthday, and he’d always make it a point to say her name whenever he was talking or singing to your belly.

Much like now, with his back turned to you, Minho’s voice is still as gentle as ever.

“Sometimes when the air is angry it makes electricity,” he says, swaying back and forth as Seola rests her cheek against his shoulder. Her eyes are droopy, heavy with sleep as Minho talks to soothe her back to bed. “And then the lightning makes the air really really hot, and it goes boom.” He pats her back a few times, shushing her when she brings a fist up to her face to rub it angrily. He hums a soft melody, something nonsensical, quiet enough to lull her to sleep but also loud enough to overpower the sound of heavy rain hitting the window.

You watch as he lays her back in her crib, black hair fanned out around her head as he places a warm hand on her stomach to keep some added weight on her body until he’s certain she’s sleeping deeply.

“Oh look,” you say from the doorway, making him jump, “You bored her back to sleep.”

Minho laughs, light and airy, walking over to wrap his arms around you and rest his cheek against your head.

“Jealous that she likes my voice more?”

Minho’s voice, still deep with sleep, rumbles beneath his chest, right where you have your face pressed into it. You take a deep breath, inhaling him as best as you can, his cologne mixing with the smell of baby powder and Seola’s soap.

“No, I just wish you would come back to bed now and bore me to sleep too.”

A hand runs up and down your back, Minho’s adam's apple bobs when he swallows too hard. “I wouldn’t have to if you stayed there like I told you to.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” you sigh, “Also it’s nice to see the two of you together. I don’t get to see it a lot, y’know?”

Minho stills on his feet, and you pull back in time to catch the ghost of a frown on his face.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, “I know. I’m—fuck, I have to be gone tomorrow too.” He runs a hand through his hair, and you can practically see the guilt worming its way into his head.

Determined to stop the inevitable self-loathing, you bring your hands up to cup his face, your thumbs running gently along the corners of his mouth. He melts into the touch immediately, closing his eyes and exhaling out of his nose.

“That’s not what I meant. I just like to cherish the time we have when all three of us are together, that’s all. This isn’t a ‘you versus me’ thing, okay? This is me and you making do with what we have.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “Yeah I know. Me and you.”

“Always.” You smile, leaning up to press your lips together.

With the thunder no longer rumbling overhead and the rain lighter than it had been earlier, you and Minho deem it safe enough to retreat into your bedroom without running the risk of Seola being woken up again.

“Do you want me to explain the force of gravity?” He whispers, playful but weak where his fatigue is starting to seep into his bones.

You laugh and tuck your face into his neck, his arms tightening around you on instinct. When you don’t answer, he knows that he doesn’t have to speak for you to drift off to sleep; knows that no matter what you’ll always be at home tucked into his side, and eventually lets sleep overtake him too.

When morning hits the sky is cloudy and the room is painted in a pale gray. The spot next to you is cold, sheets still tousled from sleep where Minho had been. You frown, glancing at the baby monitor on the nightstand that’s oddly quiet. It’s not normal for you to wake without the sounds of Seola beating your internal clock to it.

Your confusion only grows when you step into the hallway, the sounds of light snoring drifting out from the nursery. When you breach the doorway, you stop short, your heart doubling in size at the sight before you.

Minho is there, slumped against the side of the crib, his head leaning on one of the slats of wood and his arm shoved through the gap, Seola’s hand wrapped tightly around his finger. He must’ve gotten worried at some point in the night, scared that the rain would wake her again.

You inch forward to kneel beside him, running a hand through his hair and smiling when the touch makes his nose twitch. Seola’s own does the same when she sleeps, a little mole on the tip of her right nostril, just like her dad has on his left nostril. A direct reflection of one another; of love in its purest form.

On the floor beside him, Minho’s phone lays open:

To: Chan [2:45a.m.]

I won’t be in later

Find a way to manage without me

#lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #lee know fanfic #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #dad lee know #lee know as a dad #dad!minho #dad!leeknow

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babycatlix · 11 months

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Gifsets of Lee Felix ↳ a baby with a baby 🥰 | DO NOT REPOST

bonus+: babie hands 🥺

#lee felix #createskz #felixleenet #dancerachasource #bystay #kpopccc #stray kids #usersun #amanda.tag #userlau #sunnishine #userbeepls #heyale #usertsu #cheekyuser #dreamytag #g: felix #m: gifs #he is gonna be such a good dad some day 🥰

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wahgifs · 5 months

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[2 KIDS SHOW] EP3: BANG CHAN X LEE KNOW | DRIVE| WITH MC CHANGBIN ☆

#createskz #bystay #boyidoledit #seochangbingifs #linosource #channiesnet #stray kids #changbin #lee know #bang chan #skz #mum and dad #i love them #this episode was 30 minutes of chaos

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chvnnie · 7 months

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Can you please write about dilf seungmin? I just can’t sleep without it.

it’s been a while since i posted — so why not start with my literally brand?

…I also made it spicy. Oops.

Seungmin looks good in a suit.

This isn’t like, brand new information. Simply a statement; he looks good in a suit.

Your husband looks good in a suit.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

What makes him look even better, in your opinion, is the way he puts the baby carrier on. Fingers flexing, veins popping in his hands as he adjusts the straps. Fixes the buckles. Make sure everything is secure before he puts your son in there. There’s just something about the way his fingers glide down the strap, pulling it tightly—

“You’re staring.” He interrupts your thoughts, not even looking up from what he’s doing. It slipped your mind that he’s standing in front of the mirror, and you’re right in his line of sight.

You clear your throat, distracting yourself with the sleeve on your dress. “Sorry.” You mumble.

“Hm.” Checking that everything is on him correctly, Seungmin turns around. “Are you?”

Why is he talking to you like this? Why is his voice so low? Was it a good idea to wear a long sleeved dress? Okay, it’s snowing outside, but the way your husband’s words are affecting make you feel like you’re on fire.

Red and pink-ish flames dance across your body, swirling like a tornado of fire. Engulfing you and forcing you to given into the sensation.

��Maybe.” The strand you were toying with becomes irrelevant, head tilting up to meet your husband’s gaze. He’s taken a few steps closer to you, eyes dark and turned downward. Another match strikes. “Would it be so wrong if I was?”

Tongue in cheek, he huffs a small laugh. Faster than lightening, a hand grips your chin. Tilting it up. Forcing your gaze to stay in place. “When you look at me like that,” his thumb slides up, finding the center of your bottom lip. Slowly, he begins to stroke it, smearing the red lipstick you just applied, “you know I can’t help myself.”

The birthday dinner is in less than an hour. If you don’t leave now, you run the risk of being late — but the baby is still asleep, snoring over the monitor in the next room over.

Sounds like a perfect excuse.

Your mouth forms around the digit, eyes locked with his as you slowly brush your thumbs across it. Not stopping until the mouth meets the knuckle, only to pull out just as slow.

“Don’t, then.”

Playing with fire is never wise. But sometimes, the burn is too delightful.

Seungmin’s other hand grips the nape of your neck, forcing you from your seat on the bed to your knees. They brush against his loafers, the only thing stopping your skin from bruising.

The thumb that was in your mouth moves across your cheek, painting your skin with the lipstick you so carefully applied. “All I’ve wanted was to make a mess of you tonight.” He says in a low whisper, slapping your cheek softly. Enough to make the blaze burn brighter. “You make losing myself too easy.”

His belt buckle jingles, blending with your gentle laugh as you smile up at him. Though he acts like he’s playing with you, in reality he’s given you exactly what you wanted. Feeding into your will without really even knowing.

Who knew all it took was a stare?

Seungmin pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock. It bounces out, hard and heavy like it was seconds from tearing a hole in his slacks. He grasps the base of it, slowly working his hand up and down. The thumb that is lipstick stained brushes over the tip. Making a mess of himself.

Your tongue rolls out, waiting for patiently for your husband to finish teasing you. To give you both what you know you can’t go another second without.

His smile is breathtaking. “Good girl.” He coos, finally sliding his cock in your mouth. The deeper it goes, the louder he groans. The fire moving to his body, and he’s in no rush to put it out.

Savoring the feeling of your throat, Seungmin is slow to pull out. Not wanting to even thrust — just to sit there, let his cock hit the back of your throat and listen to you choke on it. Everything about it is perfect. The warmth, the closeness.

You. Your watery, wide eyes. Face stained with lipstick, mascara close to follow.

“I love you.” He mumbles softly, the thrust starting slow and deep. He doesn’t go far before he diving back in, craving more and more. “I fucking love you.”

Bodies aflame, molding into one. There’s a tenderness that only Seungmin possesses, an ability to make even moments like this feel like heaven.

Your tongue swirls around the base of his cock. It twitches in your mouth, the feeling making his knees buckle. Fuck, everything about this is perfect. His fingers thread in your hair, holding your head still as he rocks his hips a lip faster. Rougher.

Spit starts to leak from your mouth. Down it rolls, clinging briefly to your chin before it drops onto the ground. His shoes. Your lap. Sloppy, messy.

Perfect.

“You take my cock so good.” He groans, head rolling back as he picks up the speed. Not one usually for words in the moment, you soak up the compliment. Bouncing a bit on your knees as you tighten your throat until he’s moaning your name. Spilling from his mouth like a prayer. “Fuck, that’s it. Fuck—“

He cums hard and fast. There isn’t even a second to warn you before it’s spilling in your mouth. Seungmin stares at you as he empties out, watching you swallow around his cock. You look so beautiful when you’re such a mess for him.

Carefully, he pulls himself out, stuffing the still hard member in his boxers. He falls to his knees in front of you, not even bothering to buckle his pants before he cups your face. Peppering it with kisses, whispering praise and thanks. Apologies for ruining your makeup—

Your hands wrap around his wrists, holding him close as you smile at him. “I love you, too.” You say softly, pressing your lips against his. “I—“

The monitor on the bedside table lights up, the sound of cries filling the room. You both huff a laugh, lost in each other’s gaze for just one more second. Just a little bit longer of just the two of you.

“I’ve got him.” You say, only to be held still by your husband.

“No, I’ll get him.” He brushes his lips against your cheeks once before he stands. “Go fix your makeup, unless you want to go to dinner like that.”

“I think it’s a look, no?” You tease, pulling yourself onto your feet.

“God, don’t start unless you want to be tied to the bed for the rest of the night.”

It’s not an empty threat. You desperately want to see it through. Smiling, you send him away, going into the en-suite to reapply to your lipstick. Clean the mess that Seungmin made.

Your husband looks good in a suit. It’s a fact. But when you walk out into the living room, getting the perfect view of him bouncing the baby against his chest. Singing and tickling the little boy’s feet until he’s a fit of giggles, you realize that as good as he looks in a suit — he looks better as a dad.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #chvnnie dad!skz #dad!skz #dad!seungmin

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fauna-and-floraa · 5 months

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fav skz // that smile 🤍

#my final post for 2023 📣#goin out with a bang i guess you could say... heh #stop booing my dad jokes i learnt from watching 9 million bang chan comp videos okay #cb97 #christopher bang #fav skz #stray kids #stray kids edit #stray kids gifs #bang chan #bang chan edit #channiesnet #bystay #createskz #skz #3racha #kpop edit

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 16 days

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Honey bee (dad!hanjisung)

The whole "favourite parent" theory never really convinced you to the fullest, not with how much Daisy was obsessed with father, her very first word being "dada!", the biggest rounded eyes looking excitedly at him, her cute little mouth just a happy happy o shape as she tuned to her dad when you had first asked her to try and say the word, which nearly brought Jisung to tears right then and there.

With you being the parent that was at home the most though, you were quite used to being wrapped around her little finger, catering to her every need, helping her and caring for her through her trickiest nights and seasonal flu.

Jisung tried his very very best at being as present as possible and not miss on any important milestones such as her first word, which had happened fairly recently, or the first few little steps she walked from your seated figure to him, resting his bum on the carpet, opposite you, both of your arms outstretched for her shall she stumble on her little feet. He was there. Overjoyed.

Whenever he came home from work, be it at 2 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon, he always made sure to go and see his baby, even if it was for a little bit, like his lunch break or five minutes before going to bed, he always stuck to his habit of just taking a few minutes to just look at her, kiss her cheek, play with her or have a cuddle if she was awake.

And Daisy must have developed a sixth sense for that, even for a toddler as young as barely one year old, she just knew whenever her dad was about to come home. And she would become just a liiiiiitle restless and fussy with either excitement or desperate anticipation. Hence you secretly started to believe perhaps he was the favourite parent, probably cause she loved him so, and missed him just as much, despite his best efforts.

Tonight was just one of those nights, Jisung had literally just gotten home not even 3 hours ago, it was way past her bed time but none of you had the heart to deny either of you some bonding family time, or better yet father and daughter quality time.

He had postponed his shower and his unpacking and just picked her up from the floor where she was playing quietly with you, and smothered her little face with kisses and hugged her and hold her and played with her for as long as possible before she required a nappy change and the delayed night time routine.

Neither of you felt like you were being bad parents. Routines and regular sleeping schedules were important but so is being patient and lenient, understanding of your child needs and yours as parents too. A little indulgence and some extra cuddles never hurt anyone.

Bathed and half way through her bottle, baby Daisy was having a hard time concentrating on the soft lullaby bed time story you were reading her, she kept rubbing her small chubby knuckles into her eyes and half giggling cause she was too awake and eager, kept fidgeting and twitching in her sleeveless sleep sack she usually loved being swaddled in.

"Ah I see, you're not so sleepy tonight are you? Silly little bloom you are", you giggle at her cute happy and definitely more than alert face, gently pinching her rosy cheeks, "is someone just so excited dada's home? Shall we go see him? Shall we have dada sing you to sleep tonight?", you suggest rhetorically, knowing that even though she can't fully grasp what you're saying she definitely understands any mention of her father.

With a little huffing and puffing from the effort, you roll over onto the side and get up from her little bed wich you had squeezed yourself in, you unzip her sleeping sack and pick her up, gently brushing away her satiny soft wisps of dark brown hair, just barely curling at the tips, you balance her on your hip, careful to distribute her weight evenly so you don't strain yourself, and slowly pad into the corridor and then into your master bedroom where you find your husband folding his clothes into the closet, his suitcases now empty, discarded on the floor beside the bed.

"Knock knock? A certain daisy bloom is requesting her sweet honey bee to help her sleep tonight", you announce playfully as you cup your daughter's little hand and help her knock on the door, Jisung spins around with a start, his face immediately lighting up, "oh goodness!", he muses excitedly, dropping whatever shirt he was trying to neatly fold in his lap.

He walks over to you, grinning from ear to ear, and gently lifts Daisy from your arms and into his, holding her close to his chest so he can place a fluttery stream of kisses into her hair, "is it true Deiji girl? you want Dada?", he coos, sitting on the edge of the bed, relishing in the way his baby girl latches onto him, her little arms and hands trying to grip onto his neck as she squeaks happily, "da-dda", she blubbers, burying her face into his chest.

He shoots you the puppy eyes, his bottom lip trembling, the look on his face so devastatingly amazed and touched, which you reciprocate, clutching your own chest, watching as he cuddles her closer while he scoots on the bed so he can rest his back onto the bed frame, the baby not even shifting into his arms, her ear pressed onto his pectoral, perhaps a subconscious reminiscence of when she used to do that as a newborn.

Endless were the days when Jisung wouldn't dare breathing too loud, scared he would disturb her sleep, and would hold her like that for hours on end, the tiny shell of her ear pressed onto his hearbeat, his hands rubbing her back ever so lightly in soothing motion, his lips brushing her head every once in a while in a dream like state, or a suppressing-his- leg - cramps - and- impeding- need- to- pee- and- breathe- normally- hazy state. For there was no way in hell he was going to move and wake her up.

Fatherhood. What an immense blessing to have been bestowed upon him. Jisung was the most wonderful father despite the demands of his tight working schedules, he had been pouring himself out for your daughter from day one, and you had been witnessing him blossoming into his nurturing calling just like his first baby name's sake.

"You guys... I'm going to cry", you mumble, feeling suddenly very emotional at the scene before you, "me too... oh... how I missed her", Jisung sniffles, snuggling his baby tightly but still carefully enough so he doesn't crush her, "she's so cuddly I'm going to die", he adds then, holding her up closer to his face so he can kiss her cheeks and her forehead and the tip her nose and her cheeks again and her nose again.

"You are the best cuddler in the whole world you know that sweetheart?", he says softly, gazing into his daughter boba brown eyes, a miniature version of his own eyes, along with the squishiest cheeks and poutiest lips she inherited straight from him as well, whereas she had your nose and your chin and seemingly your hair, the perfect tiny combination of both of you guys' genes.

Daisy tilts her head to the side and slabbers a little, adorable loud giggles escaping her mouth, "dadda eeppyy", she gabbles, trying to stand on her tippy toes in Jisung's lap, whose hands hover over her small frame, catching her whenever she wobbles unsteadily, "dada's sleepy? Yeah, I am sleepy. Is Daisy sleepy too? Shall we go night night?", he says sweetly, smiling proudly, elated at just how bright and smart and cute his daughter is, "ya", she says in her tiny voice, trying to nod lightly, mimicking a small yawn after.

"Okay, night night we go then. Let's say bye bye to omma and sissy first! Say night night mommy, night night sissy!", Jisung instructs tenderly, brushing her hair with his fingers and then gently guiding her to you so she can crawl over and cup your cheeks in her little hands:" nah nah mam-mah", she babbles, her aim a little off when she tries to kiss your cheek and ends up slobbering all over your face.

Which you can't help but laugh endeared at: "good night sweetie, I love you, sissy loves you too!", you say softly, your hands cradling your round bump. A fond smile and soft gaze into his eyes, Jisung pecks your lips once, lingering there just for a second, a promise for more at a later time.

"Let's say bye bye to sissy too, where is sissy?", he adds then, gently encouraging Daisy to use her little pointer finger to poke at your chest, just slightly above your heart, "aw sissy is mommy's heart, but she's also in mommy's belly!", he prods her on gently, until she pokes your belly too, smiling excitedly, "good girl! There's sissy! say goodnight sissy, I love you! like this, here, watch dada", he explains patiently, bending down to kiss your belly once, and then twice, and then thrice.

Soon enough Daisy copies him and you find yourself overwhelmed with a flurry of slobbery kisses all over your tummy and your chest, the echo of your husband and daughter's giggling and smacking their lips on your skin making your tear up with both joy and the prickling feeling of having to go toilet with how much they're ticking you.

"Night night Nari, we love you", Jisung whispers, his lips pretty much still attached to you, an arm firmly wrapped around his toddler and the other cradling your belly, honey dripping from his words and his eyes.

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minhosblr · 18 days

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2023-2024 : One year with @minhosblr! ♡

A compilation of the year that has gone by

#bystay #createskz #stray kids #lee know #seungmin #hyunjin #felix #i.n #changbin #*m.gif #*minho #*minhosblr #technically there's two days until it's been a year but i'm going to my dad's over the weekend so have this now #i just made this lol #this is just because i think it's fun to see how much i've done and how much my gifs have changed over time #nobody can guess my second bias from looking at this compilation #(it's seungmin btw)

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athforskz · 23 days

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SKZ texts (Hyung line) - Telling them you’re pregnant… again

Masterlist

Warnings: all fluff, one mention of breeding in Chan’s

Screenshots: 8

Maknae line here

a/n: All the cute babies are from Pinterest!

Bang Chan:

Lee Know:

Changbin:

Hyunjin:

Likes, comments, & reblogs are always appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

#stray kids #skz #mdni #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #seungmin #yang jeongin #lee know #skz fake texts #Han jisung #lee felix #skz smau #Skz being dads #skz hyung line #fake texts #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

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astraysimp · 6 months

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Seo Tiny

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'Seo Tiny'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Hiiii bestiessss! I’m bring more dad!skz…this time it’s Binnie’s turn.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥSummary: baby Seo uses Binnie as her personal jungle gym ( i did that as a baby ngl)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ 빛나: Binna, your mini Binnie -8 months old

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Warnings: cavity inducing fluff, binnie and baby Seo, Binna is called Baby Bin, soft! Domestic Binnie, petnames, fem!reader

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

It was Sunday night–7 o’clock to be exact. That meant, dinner was eaten and everyone was in pajamas. Binna in her piggy onesie and you and Changbin in sweats. You were all relaxing in the living room ,winding down for the night….or so it seemed.

Changbin was on the floor, leaning against the couch. His stomach is full of dinner making him tired and nap ready. You were on the couch, legs seated in a way where Changbin could lean onto one, and Binna was crawling around near him, pacifier in her mouth. She had started to crawl about a month ago and dang….could she go. That’s what she was doing now, either crawling around or playing with her toys. All of a sudden, you heard her pacifier fall and giggles come out of her mouth. She was climbing over Changbin’s body, as he laid on the floor. Laughing, you looked down at her. “Baby bin, what are you doing, my precious girl?” All she could do was giggle some more before crawling over his legs. Changbin laughed, seeing the way Binna crawled over him. “What is my baby doing? Is appa your gym, huh?” He asked, as Binna crawled over his chest and her bum plopped on the floor.

It was a funny sight to see, your baby girl crawling over your husband’s body and plopping onto the other side. Binna seemed to be enjoying it though. Giggling, you leaned down to kiss the top of Changbin’s head. “She’s way too cute, hm, Binnie?” you smiled, patting his chest. “Oh definitely, honey. Look at her, those eyes and those cheeks.” he smiled, watching as Binna continued climbing over his body. “She got her cheeks and eyes from you, baby. She’s a copy and pasted version of you,” You smiled, hearing Binna giggle. Briefly stumbling, Binna giggled and climbed onto Changbin’s stomach area, only to giggle and slide off, her little bum plopping onto the other side. “Be careful, baby bug.” Changbin laughed out, his hand patting Binna on the bum. It was amazing how she wasn’t tired,yet. You were getting tired, ready for a nap. Slowly, you laid your head against Changbin’s, stifling a yawn back.

Your yawn must have caught Binna’s attention, because she sat on Changbin’s chest and reached her chubby hands up to your face. Laughing, he held onto her to make sure she didn’t slide off of him. “What are you doing up there, little Bin? Giving mama kisses?” He smiled, blowing a raspberry on her tummy. Giggling, she smooshed your cheeks in her hands. “Hi, princess. Do I get a kiss?” You smiled, puckering your lips as she pressed her lips on yours.” Thank you, my sweet girl.Does appa get a kiss, too?” You smiled, as Changbin leaned his head up, wanting his own Baby Bin kiss. “Yah, appa wants kisses from his Binna,” he pouted, holding Binna tighter to his chest. Binna giggled and leaned down, pressing her lips to his. “Thank you, Binna bear.” He smiled, patting her back, feeling her stack to wriggle in his hold. Having enough cuddles, she sat on his stomach and started to his his chest. “What are you doing,baby bun?” He laughed, feeling her small fists hit against his pecs. Laughing, you watched on as Binna hit his chest. “Are you hurting appa, bunny? “ Pouting, he pulled Binna onto his chest, smothering her in kisses as she giggled.”Don’t hurt me baby bunny. Appa loves you so much.” All she could do was giggle and kick her chubby little legs. Then, Binna got restless, wanting to play more.

Soon enough, Binna wiggled out of his arms and continued to crawl over him. “Really….how is she not tired?” Changbin asked, leaning his head on your leg. “Don’t know, my love. She sure is having fun though.” You smiled, running a hand through his hair. He smiled and then took Binna into his hold again, lifting her into the air. “ Wah, Binna bear is flying!” You smiled, as she giggled, kicking her arms and legs. “Binna! You’re going so high up,bug!” You smiled, as Changbin lifted her a few more times. Although she was still giggling, she was getting tired. So, Changbin settled her down onto his chest, rubbing her back. Sliding onto the floor next to Changbin, you smiled cuddling into his side. “Seems like someone is all popped out for today,hm?” You smiled, seeing Binna clinging onto his shirt, her eyes starting to droop. “Sleepy, princess. Guess it’s time for bed, for this little one.” Changbin gently smiled, placing a pacifier back in her mouth. Nodding your head, you pressed a kiss to Binna’s head. “Bed time for Binna,” you smiled, caressing her cheek. Kissing her head, Changbin carefully got up from the floor, Binna still tight in his hold as he rocked her to sleep, making his way to her nursery. “Let’s get you to bed, little one,” he smiled down at her, as you followed behind them.

Making your way into the nursery, he carefully set her in her crib, and placed a dwaekki plushie in her arms. “Sleep well, Binna bear.” You both bid her goodnight, before closing the door and going to your bedroom. Now, it was yours and Changbin’s turn to sleep, cuddled in each other’s arms.

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*please don’t steal, copy/paste,claim,repost, or plagiarize my works*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* AStraySImp2023*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*

tag list| @jinnie-ret @straykeedz-recs @binsito @channiesbakery -open

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids texts #lee know fluff #seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #changbin fluff #han jisung fluff #jeongin x reader #bang chan #skz text imagines #skz fanfic #skz changbin #skz binnie #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x you #dad!skz

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inamagicalhallucination · 7 months

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fukuzawa: is it true that you are maintaining some relationship with various mafia members

ada:

ada: *guilty silence*

ranpo, grinning: well, atsushi here has stayed quite a few nights over at akutagawa's apartment. if that means anything

atsushi: you-

dazai: atsushi~ how could you~

atsushi: stop picking on me! dazai's dating chuuya!!

dazai: i am not-

junichiro: wow you too dazai-san who's next

yosano: speaking of chuuya... kunikida youre awfully quiet.

kunikida: i just have nothing to say

ranpo: he doesn't want to admit his guilt at also being w/ chuuya

kenji: wow mr. chuuya has a lot of friends !!

kyouka: no-

naomi: yosano-sensei, aren't you and kouyou quite... close?

yosano: now what gives you that idea

junichiro: im still surprised that atsushi is with akutagawa

atsushi: ahaha.....

kunikida: yes! atsushi is with the rabid dog of the mafia! surely that is a point of concern

dazai: yeah atsushi's all small and-

atsushi: if you call me stupid

dazai: why id never

ranpo: is it more weighty than whatever the hell dazai's got going on with chuuya and kuniki-

fukuzawa: all of you.

fukuzawa: quiet.

ada: *guilty silence*

fukuzawa: i was merely asking to know which mafia members i should add to our christmas card mailing list

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #conversations at the ada #imagine trying to be a good dad and trying to include all of ur kids' friends and u learn theyre all fucking each other #yukichi fukuzawa #fukuzawa yukichi #ada as family #ada dazai #the ada #atsushi and the ada #the armed detective agency #armed detective agency #armed detective agency as family #shin soukoku #sskk #kunichuuzai

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hyunpic · 8 months

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hyunjin on bubble: my dad took these for me

#hyunjin #skz #stray kids #🧼#feeling like a disney bird wanting to circle around him like he’s the princess #he looks like he’s in deep thought like hmm how will i make their heart skip a beat today #idk why he said his dad took these when these are literally our wedding anniversary pics 😔 sorry to break it to u like this..

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writingforstraykids · 7 days

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Always back to you - Chp.2

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of Chanlix)

Word Count: 7523

Summary: Minho and you grow closer over time as he watches you handling his beloved son with such ease. Minjun's innocent question, asking you to stay with them, changes the dynamics a little. One day, you're taking the trust Minho offers you regarding his son a little too freely, and it ends in a mess...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, double "date" with chanlix, panic attack (brief description), argument (y/n and minho/ minho and chan), min collapses during practice

PART ONE | PART THREE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Two weeks later

You just left the local aquarium, and all of you felt like getting something to eat now. Minho had mentioned their planned visit to the aquarium a few days ago, and Chan and Felix had decided to tag along, inviting you as well.

It had been great fun seeing Minjun so fascinated with everything and answering all his questions. Chan and Felix fell back occasionally, taking some private moments as a couple for themselves as well, which left you a lot of time to talk to Minho.

Now, you’re back outside, standing in front of the aquarium. “You’re hungry, mate?” Chan asks, kneeling in front of Minjun.

“Yes,” he nods, wrapping his arms around Minho’s leg and cuddling into him.

“Then let’s go get some food, yeah?” Chan suggests with a warm smile, and Minjun nods.

Minjun glances around before gently tugging at Minho’s trousers. “Daddy?” he asks, and Minho hums in response. “Up?” he asks, seeming a little intimidated by all the people after the peace and quiet at the aquarium.

“Come here, dumpling,” he chuckles, picking him up. He tickles his side, pulling a sweet giggle from him, and kisses his cheek. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”

“Yes,” he nods, much more content up here now.

Felix looks up from his phone and taps Chan’s shoulder. “Babe? I found something,” he tells him, and Chan’s hand finds his as he leans over to glance at his phone.

“There’s a small restaurant not far from here that offers a lot for kids,” Chan tells them after humming agreeingly. “They even have a small playground in the back in case he gets bored and some coloring sheets.”

“Oh, guys, seriously, we can go wherever you want. He can still have some of mine if they don’t have kids' portions,” he assures them, and you notice his slight discomfort.

“I don’t mind, it looks good,” you agree with Chan.

“Minho hyung, relax; there’s plenty of stuff for all of us there. We don’t mind, honestly,” Felix assures him with his usual bright smile.

“Okay then,” Minho nods with a shy smile.

The theme restaurant is vibrant, decked out in bright colors, and adorned with characters from children’s shows. It was every kid’s dream, but as you sit down and look over the menu, Minho feels a familiar sense of dread begin to settle in. You excuse yourself for the bathroom and leave them for a moment.

“What would you like to eat, Minjun?” Minho asks, pointing to pictures of various kid-friendly options. “They have dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, or maybe you’d like some noodles?”

Minjun scrunches up his face and shakes his head fiercely. “No! I don’t want those!” he protests loudly, causing a few nearby customers to glance over.

Minho’s heart sinks; they are in his son’s favorite type of restaurant, yet the usual struggle is unfolding. “Come on, buddy, you love dinosaurs. These nuggets look fun,” he tries to keep his voice cheerful, but the frustration is hard to mask.

“I don’t want it! I want to go home!” Minjun’s voice starts to rise, edging towards a tantrum.

Minho shoots his friends an apologizing look and shakes his head gently. “Baby, we'll eat here as we said.”

“They have your favorite noodles, Jiho; look,” Felix tries to help, showing him on the menu.

“No!” Minjun swats his hand aside. Felix blinks in surprise but draws his hand back with an apologetic grin toward Minho.

“Minjun, hey,” Minho says more firmly than he intended. “I know you're upset, but we don't hit people. Say sorry to Lix, baby,” he lessens the firmness in his voice again.

“Sorry, uncle Lix,” Minjun says timidly, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“It's okay,” Lix assures him gently.

Minho takes Minjun's little hands into his and gently smiles. “Thank you, buddy. You still don't want to eat?” he asks.

Minjun shakes his head, avoiding his eyes. By the time you arrive, Minjun is on the verge of tears, and Minho is feeling the stares of other people, each look like a weight added to his shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask gently, taking your seat next to Minho.

“He doesn’t want to eat anything,” Minho explains, rubbing his temples. Chan gently pats his back, trying to calm him a little.

You turn to Minjun, your expression thoughtful. “You know, I was really hoping you could help me with something,” you begin, speaking directly to Minjun. “I’m super hungry, and I can’t decide what to eat. Maybe you could choose something for me? What do you think is good here?”

Minjun, now distracted from his brewing fit, looks curiously at you. “Fries…or dino nuggies...” he mumbles, still upset but intrigued by the involvement in the decision-making.

“Great choice. But I heard this place has a secret dish that’s really, really cool,” you whisper conspiratorially. “It’s a magic pizza that makes everyone super happy when they eat it. Do you think we should try it?”

Minjun nods, a slight smile breaking through his frown. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees shyly.

You wink at Minho, who looks at you in astonishment as you get up. You talk a word in private to your waiter before the rest orders their things. While they wait for the food, you engage Minjun in a conversation about the aquarium you had visited earlier, effectively diverting his attention from the earlier situation.

When the food arrives, the pizza is presented by the waiter, who plays along with the 'magic' theme, sprinkling imaginary dust over it. “Enjoy your magic pizza, brave knight!” he exclaims, leaving Minjun giggling.

“See, it’s magic because it makes you smile,” You say, taking a small slice and offering it to Minjun. “You want to try some magic?”

Minjun hesitates for just a moment, glancing at his father.

“Go on, baby,” Minho encourages him.

Minjun nods before taking a tiny bite. His eyes widen in surprise. “It’s good!” he declares, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Minho watches the scene, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He smiles at you, mouthing a silent "thank you." The rest of the meal goes smoothly, with Minjun even trying some salad from Felix's plate and some noodles from Chan's.

As they leave the restaurant, Minho feels lighter than he has in days. “You really have a way with him,” he says to you as you walk toward the park.

“It’s all about making it fun, turning it into a game,” you giggle. “Sometimes, kids just need a little distraction from their worries, even if it's about food.”

Minho nods, watching Minjun run ahead to the playground with Chan and Felix. “I guess I need to be a bit more creative with meals,” he admits.

“Or just call me when it’s time to eat,” you joke, and you both laugh.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and play, with Minjun in high spirits, having forgotten all about the lunchtime drama. As Chan and Lix say their goodbyes, Minho feels not just the exhaustion from a day well spent but a profound appreciation for his friends.

“Thanks again, Y/nnie. Today could have gone a lot differently without you,” Minho says as you part ways with them.

“Anytime, Minho,” you reply with a warm smile.

“Let me drive you home? You're on our way after all,” he says, and you take his offer.

Minho gets Minjun settled in the back before driving off. “Y/nnie?” Minjun's little voice comes from the back.

“Yes, buddy?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Stay?” he asks, and you frown at him gently.

“Stay where Minjunnie?” you ask.

“With us?” he asks timidly.

Minho glances at his son through the mirror. He can see the need in his eyes and swallows hard. He knows how much his son sometimes longs for someone else besides him. He asked about his mother before seeing other kids at the playground.

You glance at Minho nervously, not quite knowing how to respond without hurting either of them. “You mean for dinner?” you ask, trying to find a way out.

“No…always,” he says softly, his big round eyes watching you timidly.

Minho stops at a red light and stares out of the window, avoiding your look. His grip around the steering wheel tightens as his thoughts start spiraling, once more feeling like he isn't enough for his son. He knows he isn't.

“Oh, love,” you say quietly and reach back for him. “It's okay, you know, we see each other sooo often, and I'm always at the company.”

“But I miss you,” he says softly, and you honestly don't know what to say about that.

“You want to stay for dinner?” Minho speaks up quietly, and you look back at him. He sees the hesitation written all over your face and swallows softly. “It would be fine,” he assures you quietly.

You nod slowly, considering Minho's quiet offer. "I can stay for dinner, Minjunnie," you tell him, smiling as his face lights up. Minho gives you a grateful look, the tension easing from his shoulders as he turns back to the road.

The rest of the drive is spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by Minjun's occasional chatter from the back seat, talking about his day at the aquarium and the 'magic' pizza he had enjoyed. You listen, amused by his excitement and the way his eyes sparkle when he recounts his adventures.

Arriving at their home, Minho helps Minjun out of the car and into the house, with you following close behind. The familiar warmth of their home greets you and you slip off your shoes at the door, following Minho into the kitchen.

"I can help with dinner," you offer as Minho begins pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Thanks," Minho says, his voice soft. "I think I'm just going to make something simple I know he likes. Is some pasta okay with you?"

"Perfect," you reply, setting the table while Minho starts cooking. Minjun hovers between the two of you, occasionally helping by passing ingredients or stirring the sauce under Minho's watchful eye.

As the pasta cooks, you and Minho chat about work and plans for the upcoming week. The conversation is light, but there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken lingering between the lines.

Dinner is ready in no time, and you all sit down to eat. Minjun chatters happily, clearly enjoying having both of his favorite two people together. The meal is delicious, and you compliment Minho on his cooking, which makes him smile with pride.

After dinner, Minho insists on cleaning up, so you take Minjun into the living room to play a game. As you build a tower of blocks, Minjun's earlier request echoes in your mind. You glance towards the kitchen, where Minho is quietly washing dishes, and your heart twitches with a mixture of affection and concern.

"You're really good at building things," you comment, watching Minjun place another block on the tower.

"Daddy says I'm good too," Minjun states proudly, his concentration evident as he places each block.

"Of course he does," you encourage him, your thoughts still on his request to have you stay. It wasn't just about tonight—it was about all the nights and all the days. He wanted you there, a permanent fixture in their lives.

When Minho returns, drying his hands on a towel, he finds you and Minjun laughing as your tower wobbles before toppling over. He can’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through him he hasn't felt in a while, not like this. He watches you, studying your features as he has so many times before, and something in him screams not to think you're beautiful. But you are. Lately, he can't help but notice it again and again.

"Ready for bed, buddy?" Minho asks after checking the time.

Minjun pouts but nods, knowing that bedtime is non-negotiable. You help Minho get him ready for bed, a routine that feels both familiar and strangely intimate. Minho reads Minjun a bedtime story, and you watch, feeling a part of this little family.

After Minjun falls asleep, you and Minho settle on the couch with cups of tea. The house is quiet; the only sound is the occasional distant car passing by.

"Minjun seems to be getting attached to you," Minho begins, breaking the silence. "More than just as Y/nnie from work.” You nod, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of Minjun's request weighing on you both. "I've been thinking about it," Minho continues. "About what he said in the car. It's not just that he misses you, Y/nnie. I think... I think he's looking for that missing piece. A family."

You meet his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. "Minho, I-"

"I know it's a lot," he cuts you off, his voice gentle. "And I'm not asking for anything, not really. I just... I want you to know that you're already part of our family. If you ever want that, for real, it's yours. But no pressure. I mean it."

The offer hangs in the air, profound and sincere. You take a deep breath, feeling the significance of his words settles around you. You’ve grown to love Minjun and Minho, too, in a way that is more than just friendly concern.

"Thank you, Minho," you finally say, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know. I love being with you guys. It feels like home."

Minho reaches out, his hand covering yours hesitantly. "That's all I needed to hear," he says with a relieved smile. “You can stay with him as much as you want to. There's no one else I trust him with as much as you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, your hand still feeling warm as he draws his own back again.

You stay a little longer, talking and planning for the coming weeks until the yawns get the better of both of you.

As you leave, Minho walks you to the cab he called, and the night air is cool and comforting. "Stay safe, Y/nnie," he says, leaning close to hug you. You hug him back, a little surprised. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," you reply, the warmth of his hug lingering as you drive away, the image of Minjun’s sleepy smile and Minho’s thankful eyes etched in your mind.

Tonight, Minho’s words feel true in your heart—you are part of their family. And as the city lights blur past, you realize how much you’re looking forward to what the future might hold. Yes, you're delusional enough to hope there could be something deeper than what you have now.

At first, you were still hesitant about staying with them so often, knowing how important it was for them to have some time to themselves. Over the following weeks, dinner with them grew into a part of your daily routine. You and Minjun spend a lot of time together in the kitchen, trying out new dishes, which makes eating a fun experience for the little one. This allows Minho to wrap up things at the company in peace, able to focus on himself for a little without having to worry about his little troublemaker. Minjun looks forward to cooking with you in the evening which makes saying goodbye to his father so much easier.

With all the cooking, you two start making extras for everyone. You know they have a fridge at the company where they store their personal stuff, so you and Minjun start filling it regularly. It delights them all, always finding a fresh meal for whatever time of the day or night if your name is Chan. It feels like you're not only part of Minho's private, small family but also his bigger family at work.

It’s been almost a month since Minho’s offer to be part of this family, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You all found your routine by now, and you had a spare key to their house, allowing you to get home earlier with Minjun. It means a lot to you that Minho trusts you when you tell him you’re taking his son home. Minho and you have grown closer, knowing how much it meant to both of them that Minho was sharing his home with you.

It’s getting harder with every passing day to ignore how much he means to you. How beautiful he is when he’s wrapped up in a blanket, hair messily falling into his face, a wide smile on his face as he’s fooling around with Minjun. How treasured the sound of his genuine laugh after a long day had gotten. How caring he is for both Minjun and now, to some extent you. How strong he is for his kid, making sure to excel both at work and at being a father when all he wants is to hide away sometimes.

Tonight, you and Minjun decided to make dumplings and surprise Minho with them for dinner. The kitchen is soon filled with the aroma of spices, the rhythmic sounds of chopping, and laughter. Minjun, your little bundle of energy, is sitting on a chair next to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You patiently show him how to prepare the filling, and Minjun watches, eager to learn.

“Okay, Minjunnie, you want to try mixing?” you ask, handing him a large spoon.

“Yes,” he nods quickly, taking the spoon with both hands. His attempts are messy but earnest, and you can’t help but laugh as a bit of the filling spills over the side of the bowl.

“Good job, buddy! Now, let’s make the dumplings,” you encourage him, showing him how to place a small amount of filling in the center of a wrapper. You demonstrate pinching the edges together, a technique that has taken you a while to master. Minjun tries to mimic you, his small fingers fumbling at first, but with each attempt, his technique improves. “You’re a natural!” you compliment him and get the sweetest smile in return. Once more, you realize how similar he looks to Minho when he smiles, cheeks grow squishy, eyes squint in joy, and the bunny teeth show.

Later, as the dumplings steam, Minjun's attention shifts to the window. "When is Daddy coming home?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Soon, I think. He might be very tired, though. He had a long dance practice today," you reply, checking the dumplings.

As if on cue, the door opens with a soft creak, and Minho steps in, his face showing signs of exhaustion. Minjun runs to him immediately, almost tripping over his feet, wrapping his little arms around Minho's legs.

"Daddy! You're home!" Minjun exclaims, looking up with a smile that falters as he notices Minho's tired expression.

"Hey, little chef," Minho says, his voice weary as he bends down to scoop Minjun into his arms. "Did you make all these dumplings?"

Minjun nods proudly, and then his face turns serious. "Daddy, are you okay? You look sad."

Minho manages a tired smile. "Just a bit tired from practice, baby. But I'll be okay. Smelling those dumplings definitely makes me feel better."

You watch them, your heart swelling with affection but also concern for Minho. Lately, the dance practices have been intense, often leaving him drained. "Let's eat! I bet your daddy's hungry," you suggest, ushering them to the dining table where the dumplings were now ready, steaming hot and inviting.

The meal is cheerful, with Minjun chatting about his day and the dumplings he helped make. Minho eats with evident pleasure, praising Minjun's efforts, which makes the boy glow with pride. However, you notice Minho grimacing slightly every time he moves his shoulder.

After dinner, while Minjun is occupied with his coloring books, you approach Minho. "You're really pushing yourself hard, aren't you?" you ask softly, concern coloring your tone.

Minho sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, the new routine is tough. But it’s what I love to do."

You nod, your hands reaching out instinctively to his shoulder, your fingers pressing gently. "Maybe I can help a little," you offer.

Reluctantly, Minho agrees, and as your skilled hands work over his sore muscles, he feels the tension beginning to ease. The room is quiet besides Minjun's occasional hums as he colors and Minho’s low hisses whenever your fingers meet a tense spot.

"Thank you, Y/nnie," Minho murmurs, genuinely grateful.

"It's nothing," you reply, your hands steady.

As you settle into the evening, Minho watching Minjun draw and you tidying up the kitchen, you feel complete, having spent a day well. The night ends with Minjun falling asleep early, curled up on the couch with his favorite blanket in Minho’s lap. “I’ll better get going,” you say with a glance at the clock. “I’ll be late on set tomorrow; I have an important call about a possible photoshoot for you before…but I’ll make sure someone’s there to keep Minjun occupied until then.”

“Alright,” Minho nods thankfully. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“Always,” you promise and gently squeeze his shoulder as you leave.

The next morning dawns bright and early for you. After a quick breakfast and the call, you make your way to the set where Minho is filming the music video for the song with Chan. Today's plan includes picking up Minjun from Minho’s set and treating him to some ice cream—a little surprise to break the monotony of his dad's long shooting days.

Upon arrival, you notice the usual hustle and bustle of the set, but with an added layer of excitement given the complex scenes scheduled for the day. As you navigate through the crowd of crew members and equipment, you spot Minjun sitting near one of the monitors, his eyes wide with fascination as he watches his father perform.

"Y/nnie!" he exclaims, his face lighting up as he sees you approaching. He runs over, nearly tripping over a cable before you scoop him up into a hug.

"Hey, my little star! Watching Daddy work, huh?" you say, smiling as you set him down.

"Yeah, Daddy’s really cool!" Minjun responds, his enthusiasm infectious. You chat briefly about what he's been watching before steering the conversation towards the day’s special plan.

"So, how about we grab some ice cream after this? Just you and me," you suggest, watching his reaction closely.

Minjun’s face splits into a broad grin. "Ice cream! Yes, please! Can we get chocolate?" he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Chocolate it is. Let’s go," you reply, your heart warmed by his excitement.

The ice cream shop isn't far, and the walk there is filled with Minjun's chatter about the various things he’s learned from watching his father on set. You listen, amused and impressed by his observations and memory.

Arriving at the shop, Minjun presses his nose against the glass display, his eyes scanning the array of flavors. "Two chocolates, please!" he declares when it’s your turn to order.

With the cones in your hands, you find a spot outside on a bench. Minjun eagerly attacks his ice cream, and the chocolate soon smudges his lips and cheeks. You can't help but laugh, pulling out a few napkins to clean him up.

"Y/nnie, do you like being with me and Daddy?" Minjun asks suddenly, his tone serious, as he looks up at you with those big eyes.

"I love it, Minjun. Being with you and your dad is the best part of my day," you answer honestly, touched by his question.

Minjun nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and returns his attention to the rapidly melting ice cream. "Good. You're fun," he adds, his words muffled by a mouthful of chocolate.

As you sit there, watching Minjun enjoy his treat, you reflect on the changes in your life since joining their little family. Each day has brought its challenges and joys, but moments like these highlight the beautiful simplicity of your new life.

About half an hour later, you decide to make your way back, not knowing what mess your little surprise caused.

Minho brushes a strand of hair from his face, eyes flickering to Minjun’s prior spot, only to notice he isn’t there anymore. He frowns and quickly scans the room, a shiver running down his spine when he can’t find his son anywhere. “Chan hyung,” he asks, terrified, grabbing his friend's arm.

Chan turns toward him, frowning, confused. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, seeing the fear in his eyes.

“Where’s Minjun?” he asks, and Chan glances around the room, not finding him either.

“Baby, where’s Jiho?” he asks Felix, who’s already looking. “Min, who was watching him?”

Minho inhales shakily, his hands trembling by now, and his stomach tightens in pain. “I…He was right there the whole time,” he says, pointing at the now-empty chair next to the cameras. “Hyung, he was right there and-.”

“Breathe,” Felix tries gently, wrapping his arm around him. “He’ll be okay, yeah?”

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head, anxiously watching Chan, who’s talking to their staff and trying to figure out who had seen him last. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have stopped watching him,” he whispers, and Felix squeezes him gently. Chan quietly ushers their team from the set so it’s only them, and pulls out his phone. Minho braces himself on his knees and squeezes his eyes closed as a wave of nausea crashes over him. “I’m gonna throw up,” he whispers, and Felix soothingly rubs his back, reminding him to breathe. He exchanges a worried glance with his boyfriend, anxiously biting the nail of his thumb.

The door opens, and you step inside, accompanied by a brightly smiling Minjun, who’s carrying a small bag of waffles for all of them. You look up, startled, and notice how empty the room is now, as well as Minho’s anxious form. Is he having a panic attack? Minho looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, something in his anxious expression changes. The fear makes room for a sudden coldness you’re not used to, which quickly gets replaced by anger. “Where the fuck were you?” he asks dangerously low.

“Minho, what’s wrong?” you respond, confusion evident in your tone as you hold Minjun’s hand a little tighter.

Minho pushes himself to his feet. “You took him. Without telling anyone? That’s what’s wrong!” His voice rises with each word, the strain of the moment overtaking his usual composure.

You glance down at Minjun, whose smile fades as he senses the tension. “I…we just went for some ice cream,” you explain, your voice steady despite the rising anxiety. “Minjun wanted to surprise you with-”

“A surprise? By letting me think my son had gone missing?” Minho snaps back, his words sharp and biting. “You don’t just take him, Y/n! Not without telling me.”

Minjun’s eyes begin to water, and his lower lip trembles as he looks up at his father and then at you. “Daddy, I wanted to.” His voice is a whisper, drowned out by the escalating argument.

“Not now, Minjun,” Minho says, a bit too harshly, his focus still fixed on you. "What were you thinking, Y/n?" he snaps, his voice laced with accusation. "You know you're supposed to let me know before taking Minjun out!"

You swallow hard at the sharpness of his tone, your eyes wide with surprise and hurt. "I'm sorry, Minho," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. Fuck. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. We were only gone for half an hour."

But Minho was beyond reason, his frustration bubbling over. "It is a big deal!" he insists, his expression one of betrayal. “I trusted you. How could you just take him without telling me? What if something had happened? How would you explain that, huh?”

Your heart clenches at his words, the hurt evident. “Minho, I would never put Minjun in danger. You know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Minho says harshly, making you take a step back, your grip on Minjun’s trembling hand loosening. What?

“Let’s all just take a breath, okay? This is getting out of hand,” Felix suggests, looking between you and Minho with concern. “Minjun is safe. He was with Y/nnie, and they weren’t far.”

"Minho, calm down," Chan steps in, seeing the clear shock written all over your face, his voice firm. "He was just trying to help out. You're overreacting."

But Minho now turns his anger towards Chan, his frustration boiling over. "Stay out of this, Chan," he snaps at him, his tone cutting. "This is between me and Y/n. This is about my kid."

“Calm the fuck down right now, Min,” Chan says, his voice rising as well.

“Channie, baby, please,” Felix chimes in, fearing that his involvement would only make it worse.

You let go of Minjun’s hand, looking at Minho timidly. “I thought you trusted me with him. You left him at home with me all the time, Minho. How is that any different?”

“The fucking difference is I knew!” he yells at you at the top of his lungs.

Minjun flinches, the bag dropping to the floor. His face crumples, big tears spill down his face, and a loud cry ripples through him. Felix quickly scoops him up, walks a little away from the whole mess, and soothingly talks to him. It’s the first time Minjun has allowed Felix to comfort him when he’s upset, curling up in his arms.

You nod gently and shakily pull the keys to his house from your pocket. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to be such a fucking asshole,” you say, more calmy than you feel right now. “You just ruined his day; congratulations. Here, I won’t need them anymore,” you say, throwing the keys to his feet. “I’ll send you an email with your schedule for next week and make sure to find a proper replacement.”

“Y/nnie,” Minho breathes out, the reality of your words slowly settling in.

“Don’t Y/nnie me, not after this,” you shake your head and grab your jacket. “I’m sorry, Chan, I really liked working for you guys. You’re amazing,” you tell him before leaving, tears burning in your eyes painfully.

As soon as the door closes, Chan snaps at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Minho?!” he yells. “Are you insane? You just lost the one person who’s always been there for you. The one person your son felt comfortable around. You wouldn’t still be here without him; I hope you know that!”

“Fuck off!” Minho snaps back at him, feeling cornered.

“No, you fuck off! Minjun has no one to look after him when you’re busy except Y/nnie. Without Y/nnie, you wouldn’t even be part of the group anymore because you can’t fucking handle it on your own!” he says, and seeing Minho’s face fall, he knows he went too far.

“Chris!” Felix raises his voice at him, looking at him shocked.

“Well, thank you for finally being honest with me,” Minho says dryly, nodding to himself.

“Min, he didn’t mean it like that,” Felix tries gently as Minho makes his way over to them.

“Give me my son, please,” he says quietly. Minjun nearly screams as he eases him out of Felix’s hold. He flinches back, eyes filling with tears at the broken sound.

Felix worriedly glances down at the little boy clinging to him tightly. “Minjunnie, you’re gonna go home, okay?” he asks, growing anxious, at him shaking his head firmly. “Your daddy’s gonna take you home now,” he says, gently lifting him off his chest.

Minjun shakes his head, sobbing heavily, and holds onto his shirt tightly. “No, Daddy’s stupid!”

Minho carefully eases Felix’s shirt from his son’s hands and takes him into his arms. Minjun starts kicking, hitting his chest. Minho presses his lips together tightly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, holding onto him tightly so he won’t slip from his grip. Minjun wails in his arms, still fighting him as he carries him outside to the car. “I’m so sorry, buddy. Daddy’s an idiot,” he tells him shakily, the seatbelt slipping from his fingers repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, finally managing to buckle him up. He closes the door to the car and tries to hold back the sob threatening to leave him.

“You forgot your stuff,” Chan says softly, suddenly next to him.

Minho quickly wipes his cheeks with his sleeve and takes the bag from him. “Thanks,” he mutters, not meeting his eyes.

“Min…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says carefully. “You’re doing your best, and we all know it. That wasn’t fair,” he tells him.

Minho throws the bag onto the passenger’s seat and shakes his head, sniffling. “It’s fine. You were right. I suck at this, and I’d do you all a favor if I quit until he’s older.”

“Don’t say that,” Chan says gently, shaking his head. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, voice breaking.

“Minnie,” he says quietly.

“Fuck, Channie hyung, I messed it all up,” he finally breaks down, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

Chan pulls him into a tight hug, swallowing at how hard Minho is trembling in his arms. “What happened in there, hm? You’re usually not like this,” he asks carefully, and Minho shakes his head with a sob. Chan chews on his lower lip, realizing this could possibly go deeper than he thought, considering Minho’s insecurities regarding raising his kid right. The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. “Look, I know you’re doing this whole parenting thing on your own, and you’re doing an amazing job,” Chan continues, soothingly rubbing his back. “But you can’t let your fear make you forget who your allies are. Y/n loves Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn’t just take him without any consideration of the risks.”

Minho’s eyes met Chan’s, a mixture of anger and sorrow battling within. “I know. I just... When I didn’t see him, all I could think about was all the things that could go wrong. He’s everything I have, Channie. He's my baby, and no one can just take him without telling me.”

Chan nods, smiling at him sadly. “I know, mate, I know,” he assures him. “Let me drive you two home, okay? You shouldn’t be driving right now,” he says, and Minho nods weakly. “Come on,” he urges him gently. Minho slips into the passenger’s seat, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves messily. Chan notices Felix a few steps away, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “You’re coming with us, baby? We can take a cab from there,” he tells him, and his boyfriend nods quickly.

“You really think he’ll quit?” Felix asks timidly.

“Min? No, he-” he says, but Felix shakes his head.

“No, Y/nnie,” he says, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. “That would be the worst thing for Minjun.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he shakes his head. “That depends on Min and Y/nnie. We can’t do much; they have to be okay…but Minho feels like shit for it,” he sighs and kisses his cheek. “It’ll be okay, baby.”

“Mhm, maybe,” Felix nods before slipping into the back to Minjun, who’s still crying softly.

“L-Lix,” he whimpers and reaches for him again.

“Hey, buddy,” he says gently, taking his hand. “It’s okay, yeah? We’re taking you home now, okay?”

“O-Okay,” he hiccups.

Minho remains quiet during the ride home, silent tears running down his cheeks as he’s biting his lower lip hard. Minjun cries quietly in the back as Felix tries to soothe him a little.

They reach their house not much later, and Felix carries Minjun inside. He exchanges a long look with Chan before moving Minjun to the room with all his toys.

Minho's face is a canvas of frustration, marked by the occasional wipe to remove the tears running down his cheeks. Chan gently guides him to the sofa and sits down with him.

"Minho, man, we need to talk about what happened," Chan begins, his voice firm yet gentle, trying to cut through the tension.

Minho nods, not meeting Chan's eyes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know, I know I messed up. It's just... when I couldn't see Minjun, everything went black. I panicked, Channie hyung."

Chan places a hand on Minho's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I get that, really, I do. The fear of losing Minjun is real and valid, but the way you handled it with Y/n wasn't fair. You trust Y/nnie, don't you?"

"I do, but at that moment, all that trust just... vanished. I just felt so out of control," Minho confesses, his voice cracking with emotion.

"It’s important to remember that Y/n cares about Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn't have taken him without considering his safety. But I think this goes deeper, Minho. This isn't just about today, is it?" Chan observes, trying to dig deeper into Minho's fears.

Minho sighs, a long, weary sound that seems to carry the weight of the world. "It's everything, Chan. The pressure of work, trying to be there for Minjun, getting closer to Y/n, and not knowing where the line is—it's all piling up. And today, I just... broke."

Chan nods, understanding more than Minho realizes. "You're not alone in this. You've got us, you've got Y/n…you need to fix this."

Minho wipes his face. "Maybe you're right. I need to handle this better, for Minjun and for myself."

"And you need to apologize to Y/n properly. He deserves that much, Minho. He's been here for you through thick and thin."

Minho knows Chan is right. The thought of facing you was daunting but necessary. He owes you an apology, one that acknowledges his overreaction and the hurt it caused.

Later that day, after taking some time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, Minho found Minjun playing quietly in his room. His little boy looks up, his face still showing signs of the day's stress.

"Hey, buddy... can we talk?" Minho sits beside him on the floor, his tone gentle. Minjun nods, his eyes curious and a bit cautious.

"I want to apologize, Minjun. Daddy got very scared today when I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t handle it well. I shouted, and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry for scaring you," Minho starts, his heart heavy.

Minjun moves closer, leaning into his dad. "Okay, Daddy… Y/nnie bought ice cream."

"I know, and it was a wonderful idea. I’m sorry for ruining it. And I’m sorry for how I spoke to Y/nnie. He didn’t deserve that. I’m going to apologize to him, too," Minho says.

"Do you still like Y/nnie, Daddy?" Minjun’s small voice is filled with worry.

"I do, very much. Y/nnie is important to us, right? I made a big mistake today, and I hope he can forgive me," Minho explains, hoping his son could understand.

Minjun hugs him tightly, "I forgive you, Daddy."

Minho chuckles softly, hugging his son back. "Thank you, baby."

Two weeks later

Life had once more settled into a stressful rhythm for Minho following the upheaval of his outburst and its emotional aftermath. Days morphed into weeks with Minjun by his side; each one layered with the joys and challenges of single parenthood, combined with his demanding schedule. Despite his deep love for his son, the strain of juggling his roles was evident.

Minho is preparing Minjun's backpack for the day, his movements automatic. The routine is well-practiced but no less draining. Minjun is playing on the carpet, glancing at his father suspiciously as he's preparing breakfast.

“Daddy, you okay?” Minjun’s small voice cuts through the morning stillness, his eyes wide with concern.

Minho pauses, taken aback by the question. “Of course, buddy,” he replies, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“You're tired,” Minjun says simply.

Minho sighs, the weight of his exhaustion settling deeper on his shoulders. He is tired—more than tired. Each day felt like a battle, each night a too-short break from it all.

Later that day, after getting Minjun settled, the effects of chronic stress, sleep deprivation, and emotional turmoil begin to manifest more aggressively. As he moves through the complex choreography, his steps start to falter, his usually sharp movements grow sluggish, and his focus wanes.

“Minho, take five!” Chan calls out. “You’re off today, man. Everything alright?”

Minho nods mutely, too spent to formulate a response. He retreats to a quiet corner, his breath uneven, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he felt like he'd be fine, a sharp pain clutched at his chest, his breathing growing labored, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Panic claws at his mind as he staggers, trying to call out for help, but his voice is a mere whisper.

“Minho!” He hears someone shout and feels hands steadying him just before everything goes dark.

When Minho regains consciousness, he finds himself on a couch in the studio’s lounge, surrounded by concerned faces—Chan, Jeongin, and Felix, holding a distressed Minjun. An ambulance siren wails in the distance, growing louder as it approaches.

“What… what happened?” Minho manages to ask, his voice weak.

“You collapsed, man. Scared the hell out of us,” Chan replies, his expression tight with worry.

The paramedics arrive swiftly, assessing Minho quickly. Blood pressure high, heart rate erratic, they murmur words like "exhaustion" and "stress" as they prepare him for transport to the hospital.

The hospital tests confirm what Minho had tried to ignore: he was suffering from severe exhaustion combined with stress. The doctor’s advice was obvious. "You need to rest, Mr. Lee. Your body is telling you it can’t keep up this pace. If you ignore this warning, the next incident could be more severe."

Minho lies back on the hospital bed, the sterile white of the room a stark contrast to the vibrancy of his daily life. The words hit hard, a sobering reminder of his mortality and the stark reality of his responsibilities as a father.

Chan, who had accompanied him, squeezes his shoulder. “You gotta take care of yourself, Minho. For Minjun’s sake, if not your own.”

“I know,” Minho murmurs, the gravity of his situation settling in. “I just… thought I could handle it all.”

Chan’s look is sympathetic but firm. “No one can handle everything alone, Min. You need to let others help. Maybe it’s time to reach out to Y/nnie again. For support.”

The suggestion lingers in the air between them, heavy with implications. Minho’s thoughts drift to you, your warmth, your laughter, and the comfort you brought to both him and Minjun. The thought of reaching out, of potentially being rejected, is terrifying, yet the fear of what might happen if he continued on his current path is greater.

Anxiously, Minho makes the decision to call you from the hospital, his heart pounding as he dials the familiar number. The phone rings, each tone echoing like a drumbeat in his tense silence.

“Hello?” you ask, cautious yet warm.

“Y/nnie, it’s Minho. I… I need to talk to you. It’s important.” His voice is unsteady, and his admission of need is a significant release of his tightly held pride. “I…I need help.”

There’s a pause, a breath held, and then released. “I'm listening.”

Minho's voice wavers as he speaks, the hospital's fluorescent lights casting stark shadows across his face. "I... I had an incident today at rehearsals. I collapsed," he confesses, the words tasting like defeat but necessary in their truth.

You suck in a sharp breath at his words. "Minho, are you okay? Where are you now?" you ask, your voice thick with worry.

"I'm at the hospital. They're telling me it’s stress and exhaustion. Nothing life-threatening, but...can you look after Minjun for a few days?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as you're silent for a while.

“So you're suddenly trusting me again?” you ask dryly.

Minho takes a moment to answer. “Minjun does…that tells me everything I should need to know,” he says quietly. “I've been an asshole, okay? I know I was. Once I'm better…can we talk? Really talk?” he asks timidly.

You sigh softly, rubbing your face. “Where is he?”

“He's with Lix,” he tells you, heart racing in his chest as you didn't answer his question.

"Get some rest, Minho. We'll sort everything else out later," you reply, your voice a soothing balm to Minho’s frayed nerves. Shit, he missed you.

“Thank you,” he says, tears burning in his eyes.

“Just…take care, okay? Your little boy needs you,” you say quietly.

“I will.”

PART ONE | PART THREE

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