Krapsaik
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Summary
changbin was never really one to let his emotions slip out. he always kept things to himself since they would go away eventually.
chan was never really one to fall for his boyfriend's facades.
dude i love chanbin so much it's not funny
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Summary
“It’s easier to sleep with you here.” Chan says, voice small, and Changbin knows he won’t be able to leave his side unless he wants him to.
Sleeping by his side after he asked him to makes his heart tremble, bristle, and he waits for Chan’s breathing to slow down for him to kiss the crown of his hair. He loves him so much.
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Two peas in a pod, bodies in the bathtub, lumps under the sheets by orphan_account
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
03 Jun 2022
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Chan finally presents and who is there next to him, as always? Noone else, but his mate to be himself. He sees him clearly for who he is for the first time, eyes finally open for what's been there all along. It's all easier than expected. For now.
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can't read your mind (can read your playlists) by MindelanWolf
Fandoms: Stray Kids (Band)
02 Jun 2022
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“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Jisung asks.
“Sure.”
And then it takes Changbin two more minutes after Jisung has gone into his bedroom to shoot up off the couch and yell, “No! Wait, no, you can’t!”
It’s too late. Jisung is already frowning at the screen. “Hey, why do you have this note on here—Chan is only allowed 2 more Linkin Park songs—what does that mean?”
“Nothing! It doesn’t mean anything!” He scrambles to close the window. Unfortunately, behind it is—
“Is this Chan-hyung’s playlist?”
Changbin groans. “No. It’s nothing.”
Jisung squints. “Well, I think he’s exceeded his Linkin Park quota, if it is.”
Listen, it's not stalking, precisely. It's just checking in. It's just making sure Chan is okay. It's for a good cause.
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Summary
The scent of Felix’s sheets, his sleep shirt, the safety of his embrace turns Chan pliant as Felix rests one hand in Chan’s curls, and the other around his bare waist.
Chan pushes a breath out, slow. It heats his face where it rests at the juncture of Felix’s neck. His fingers pulse, but he keeps them close, curls into himself. He wants to slip out between his own ribs, soak into the mattress. He must deranged the way he never wants to leave, wants to be under Felix until it hurts, until–
“Chris,” Felix scratches his scalp. “Need you.” His voice is a whisper. That’s what’s special about Felix, how deep he understands that, to Chan, it’s about the service. It wouldn’t help to ask about what’s wrong, because Chan answered that when he walked through the door.