kaiso-woo - Tumblr blog

kaiso-woo · 3 months

Text

Indeed it is.

Just because this happened in an alternate universe doesn't mean its story is infinitely timeless. It must come to an end one way or another.

Thanks to its form however, you can always re-read it. You might pick up on a thing or too that you've missed, and it will always be here. And on A03 T-T

Merry Chris-mas! (Felix Never Bad)

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-> Masterlist

PART 14 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 4.3k | Synopsis: Merry Christmas!! With Skz, and their girlfriends, at your house. Most of the relationships may seem out of the blue, but I kind of just randomly threw names at the screen.

Chris + Reader Minho + Jinhee Jisung + Suhwa Changbin + Kirsten Hyunjin + Soraya Seungmin + Yeonjoo Jeongin + Ashley Felix + N/A (for now - c'mon someone had to be single)

Notes: Fluff, Suggestive, Established Relationships (Everywhere) Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

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Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - REFERENCES BUT NOT EXPLICITLY MENTIONED

PART 14

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

Chris slid himself back under the covers, shivering slightly as the cold sheets embrace him, and wriggles himself up to snuggle in behind you, a ridiculous smile on his face. Slowly, he eases one of his warm hands across your body, wrapping it around you protectively, and places a fragile kiss between your shoulder blades. You shift slightly in his hug unconsciously, naturally moulding yourself to his body.

Chris sighs and rubs his nose adoringly into the back of your neck, inhaling the comfort that is your scent. You squirm again, and he can’t help but let a devilish smirk take over his lovesick expression. Tantalisingly, he begins his morning wake up routine, kissing the back of your head, neck and shoulder tenderly.

You groan, trying to pull yourself out of your sleepy state, and roll over onto your back. Chris doesn’t stop his kisses, working with the movement of your body to crawl on top of you, sitting up on his knees. With the ease of an adoring husband who’s done this many times over, he trails his kisses into the inside of your neck, caressing your body lovingly.

You yawn and instinctively knot a hand into his hair, massaging his scalp to let him know you’re properly awake. You can feel him smile against your skin, his warm breath tickling you. “Merry Christmas baby…” he murmurs, shifting up to place a swift kiss on your nose, and then a longer one on your lips.

“Merry Christmas sunshine,” you grin back, linking your arms around his neck and pulling him down to crush you in a soft hug. His amused laugh at your greeting is just one of the many things about him that make your heart swell.

“Sunshine? Me? Other way around today?” He giggles, effectively burrowing himself into you. You hum quietly and kiss the top of his head, relishing in the way his curls brush your face, “If there’s anything more beautiful than the sunrise to wake up to, it’s you.”

Chris inhales sharply and squeezes you tightly, “You’re so cheesy.” At this, you laugh and push him off you, eager to get out of bed and start the day, “I wonder where I got it from.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning like an idiot, and follows you to the bathroom. Predicting his movements accurately, you snatch at one of his hoodies on the way, swivel around and press it to his chest just as he moves to snag you in a back hug.

He takes it from you, a little surprised as you nonchalantly disappear into the bathroom. When he follows, you shake your head as he holds up the hoodie questioningly and puts it down on a shelf.

“What’s the hoodie for?” He mumbles, pressing himself close behind you, going in for that hug you had just recently dodged. You stare at your reflections in the mirror, smiling softly as he plants his head on your shoulder and sways slightly with the particles of the sun filtering through the window.

“The hoodie is for you to wear Mr Bahng,” you huff as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush and run the tap. “You’re not wearing a shirt,” he whines, his hands fiddling with the lining of your bra.

“It was hot last night. I sleep with a human heater wrapped around me too,” you mumble with your mouth full of toothpaste bubbles. “Yeah and guess what that did to my brain…” he grins, kissing your shoulder teasingly, his eyes locked to yours through the reflection.

“Your brain or your-” “Oh shut up,” he laughs, forehead clashing with your shoulder, “I can’t defeat you in anything anymore.”

You spit out your toothpaste, Chris refusing to remove himself from you and henceforth making it slightly difficult. Then with a waddle and a shimmy, you snatch his abandoned hoodie from the shelf, “If you aren’t going to put this on then I will.”

He nods in acceptance and pulls away to leave you be, turning to brush his own teeth. “What do you feel like for breakfast?” You yell from over by your bed; you’re busying yourself with neatening the bedsheets.

“You’re not making me breakfast, honey,” he sighs exasperatedly, emerging from the bathroom. He’s managed to run a comb through his hair, but he’s still naked from the waist up.

“Why not?” You frown, throwing a pillow into its place indignantly. He raises his eyebrows and steps towards the bedroom door, his hand resting on the doorknob. “What day is it today, hm?” He asks instead, and you pull a face at him. “It’s Christmas, but that doesn’t mean I can’t-”

Chris flings the door open and gestures for you to come closer with a flick of his head. Puzzled, you trudge over to him, eyeing his soft smirk.

“Merry Christmas!!”

You flinch in surprise as a dozen or so people yell at you from in the living room, bouncing around and hugging each other happily, decked out in Christmas gear and accessories. Your mouth falls open at the sight of their grinning faces, head whipping from your husband to the band of chaotic people.

Ashley scampers over and snatches at your wrist, tugging you over to join everyone by the couch. “What are you doing in my house?!” You yell, but your words are contradictory to the way you pull each of them into an excited hug. The Stray Kids members are all here, clutching presents, or girlfriends, or food, or all three.

Jeongin drifts over to stand at Ashley’s shoulder, and with his dimpled smile, hands you a present. “Awh thank you Innie,” you grin, turning away to put it under the Christmas tree. This begins the procession of trading Christmas gifts, everyone swarming the tree to put them down amidst joyous chatter over the top of one another. There are conversations flying everywhere. “How have you been?” “Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.” “Where’d you get the dress from? It’s so pretty.” “Hyunjin bought it for me.” “Ashley and Jeongin made breakfast!!” “It smells so good, waffles and pancakes?” “Always a classic.” “How’s Minho~?” “What do you mean- ask him yourself, he’s right here.” “Yah! We’re both literally taken.” “Oh true, but Suhwa and I believe in Minsung just as much as any other.” “Hey, you fucking traitor come back here.”

“Changbin! Where’s Kirsten at?” “She had something to take care of in town, but she’ll be here soon!” “Good. The whole family is supposed to be here.” “Seungmin… the whole family.” “Yeah yeah I know.” “When’re you going to introduce her? She could be here celebrating with us right now.” “She wants to keep it under wraps for now, and so do I.” “Why? You think we’ll scare her off?” “No…” “Oh you so do.” “‘Lix what’re you doing in the kitchen?” “Get out of my pantry and tell us about your latest date? Yay or nay?” “Absolutely nay, to both. I’m staying in the pantry- where the fuck is your flour mate? I wanna bake some cookies.”

You sit back on your heels, admiring the smiley faces and obnoxious chatter from underneath the Christmas tree. Everyone’s catching up with each other, teasing and laughing. Skz had disbanded a while ago now, and as you search the crowd for Chris, your heart aches slightly with the realisation that this is the first Christmas you’ve spent with your husband properly.

No stress from music production, no schedule. Just freedom. You spot him still standing where you left him: leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom, his arms crossed over his woefully exposed chest, head tilted with the adoration of a father-figure watching his self-made family converse. Your smile mirrors his own, and when he finally locks eyes with you, it only widens. Chris offers you a wink and goes back to perusing the gathering.

“Oi, Hyunjin don’t just ignore your girl,” Chris calls with a reprimanding frown. “What?!” The man in question yells back, looking around in confusion. “Soraya’s trying to talk to you, turn around you goose,” Chris laughs, pushing himself off the doorframe to join the pandemonium. “Raya babe, I am so sorry I didn’t hear you, I swear- I can’t hear my own thoughts.” “Relax Jinnie, I just wanted you to drink some water, you said you were thirsty in the car earlier.”

“Mr Bahng would you put on a god damn shirt for once in your life.” “Why does everyone keep calling me Mr Bahng, for fucks sake.” “Because it’s your name, Mr Bahng.” “Okay Mr Han, no breakfast for you.” “WHERE’S YOUR SHIRT? Why are you half naked when there are women present.” “I’m shirtless around you lot all the time. It means I’m comfortable. Are any women uncomfortable with the fact that I am shirtless?” “Nah.” “Nope.” “It’s whatever.” “I’ve seen better.”

You snort and try your best to keep your expression neutral at Ashley’s final comment, but Chris turns towards you, ever so fine tuned to listen out for you.

“Oh you think you’ve seen better too?” He asks playfully. “No- Ashley’s basically just admitted to seeing Jeongin naked.” “Hey hang on, we’re talking about your husband being shirtless right now, not naked. I admitted to seeing Innie without a shirt,” Ashley grimaces, but her face has gone pink.

“I mean- you have seen me naked before,” Jeongin pipes up, and he holds his hands up in defence as Ashley turns to whack him. “Where’d you get your courage from?” She scowls but Jeongin merely pulls her into a rough hug, his grin immaculate.

At that moment, Kirsten, Changbin’s girlfriend bursts into the room, her car keys jangling in her hands. “Jesus Christ,” is the first thing she says as she walks over and pecks Changbin on the cheek, “It’s not enough to have Bin shirtless at home all the time and now Chan's too comfortable?”

At this, Chris throws his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes, “Fine fine, jagiya… I want my hoodie back.” “It’s too hot for you though,” you grin.

“Don’t make me take it off you,” he threatens, walking over and leaning over you with his hand outstretched. “Is that a challenge?” “Only if you turn it into one.” “Oh then you’re on.”

This chaos died down after some time, with everyone settling in to eat breakfast on the couch, or at the dining table, still laughing and still chattering. Chris had, of course, quite forcefully wrangled his hoodie off you, peppering you with kisses as somewhat of an apology, and you had to swiftly retreat back to your room to find one of your own shirts.

This… was what the Skz Family was like. It wasn’t often that you all managed to gather in one place. Everyone had their own lives. Seungmin fell prey to the peer pressures of everyone around him, and eventually called Yeonjoo. She met you all later on in the day, and received nothing short of a raucous welcome. Much to Seungmin’s surprise, despite her quiet personality, she warmed up to everyone swiftly. How could you not?

Although Felix has yet to find a forever partner, he’s still as happy as ever. Besides, you don’t need to have a lover to live a fulfilling life, and the only reason he goes out on the dates (that the Skz Family have set up) is to satisfy everyone else. He wholeheartedly believes that he’ll find them when he finds them.

You and Chris are the only wedded couple as of now, so Felix wasn’t too far behind - not that it was a competition.

You’re in the middle of baking cookies with Felix, expression permanently caught in a smile at the sound of the loud singing in the lounge room. You could never escape a bit of karaoke. Felix slides over the bowl of cookie dough and talks you through the next step, before turning away to continue the pavlova he was making. You’re chatting with him happily about anything and everything, when he changes topic mid-sentence. “Yeah anyways, I might have to purchase a better CPU- oop heads up,” he grins, his freckles shifting upwards with the movement of his mouth.

You jump a little as two arms snake around your waist, and laugh as Chris opens his mouth, silently asking for a chocolate chip. You were about to add some into the bowl to fold into the dough. You pour out a couple and feed them to him one by one, his eyes lighting up as the sweet melts on his tongue.

“And, what are you doing here mister? Felix and I are busy,” you chide. Chris snuggles further into you, his jaw digging into your shoulder slightly as he chews. “Mine,” is all he utters and you turn back to your baking with a dry chuckle. “That was established a long time ago Christopher.”

“YONGBOK! YOUR SONG IS UP NEXT!!” Jinhee, Minho’s girlfriend, shouts and Felix yells back, his eyes never leaving the mixture between his arms. “Okay! Wanna continue this pavlova for me?” “I will once Minho stops clinging to me like a cat! Give me a second!” “Where are you going? Being a traitor again?”

The next ten minutes are spent with you trying to divide your attention between your baking and stopping your brat of a husband from eating all the cookie dough from the bowl. Even when Jinhee arrives to continue Felix’s pavlova, she can do absolutely nothing to stop the man from making your life difficult.

“Are you two married or what? I see no ‘married couple arguing’. Don’t tell me that’s just a myth. It looks more like lovey dovey vomit-inducing romance.”

“You think we aren’t married?” You ask, sliding the bowl away from Chris for the umpteenth time, “Christopher get your paws out of Felix’s baking.” “He doesn’t mind.” “I mind,” you finish, turning away for a second to turn the oven on, only to have to lunge back for the bowl because Chris has nicked it again.

“Jinhee~ help me please~” You whine, and she picks up the nearest wooden spoon and whacks his hand sharply. “Okay, here’s the deal baby, you either let me eat some of this or I eat you out later,” Chris wolfishly demands, clutching the bowl close like a child and eyeing Jinhee with her dangerous spoon warily.

“Chris,” you sigh, as you fiddle with the oven, “Keep your unholy mind to yourself.” Jinhee’s dark chuckles do nothing to ease your embarrassment, “I think I know where Minho get’s his dirty talk from.”

“Sorry?!” You and Chris both turn to Jinhee in surprise. She shrugs, her eyes glimmering, “You could say like father like son.” “I didn’t need to know any of that,” you groan, whacking your head on the bench from where you’re squatting.

“Revenge!” Jinhee gleefully yells, waving her wooden spoon dramatically in the air. “First of all, I have not taught that man a damn thing about dirty talk. Second, what’s his go to? He’s probably smoother with it.” “CHRISTOPHER!”

Finally, everyone’s gathered around the Christmas tree to open up the presents. Once news of Yeonjoo’s last minute arrival was confirmed, it was unanimously decided that they would wait for her to arrive. She had her own presents sitting under the tree too - even though she hadn’t been formally introduced, she had long since been considered a part of the family. You women had taken it into your own hands to ensure Yeonjoo didn’t just receive generic gifts, hassling Seungmin whenever you could for details and information.

Felix has his camera out and is taking happy snaps of everyone. He’s adamant on opening his presents last, preferring instead to take pictures of the family he’s fond of. There’s a whole manner of presents being opened; chocolates, clothes, gadgets, remote control devices, jewellery, vouchers, bags, beanies, even the occasional gag gift.

You’re a little nervous as Ashley picks up her gift from you, shifting anxiously in Chris’ lap. Immediately he grabs your waist and whispers breathily in your ear, “You better stop moving honey, before I kick everyone out of our house.”

You scoff and wriggle further into him, trying to get comfortable again, “You wouldn’t even kick them out.” With a playful kiss below your earlobe he breathes back, “Keep moving and we’ll find out.”

You press your finger to your lips to encourage him to shut up, and do your best to sit still, instead fidgeting with your hands. “Yeobo,” Chris hums, reaching over to grab your hands, “It’s okay, the gift is just as perfect as you.” “Real smooth. She’ll appreciate it regardless, I know. I technically didn’t pick it out for her though, so…”

Ashley finally rips open the packaging and reads out the book title in surprise, “10 Ways to Turn Your Boyfriend into Your Husband?” After a pause in which the entire room quietens, Ashley’s face breaks out into a grin, “Yang Jeongin~ I think you should be reading this, not me~” she sings, crawling over to him smacking him lightly over the head with it.

You can feel Chris tense around you, you’re not sure why though. The eyes of the Stray Kids members swivel over to you, and Chris laughs quietly. “You bought this for Ashley?” Changbin asks, to which you slowly nod. “Hyung, does your wifey know?” Hyunjin quizzes, pushing himself to his feet and putting his hands on his hips. “Awh nah. What’s spoken between the men stay within the men,” Chris states calmly, his hands absently rubbing circles on yours.

Jeongin chuckles a little nervously, and Seungmin elbows him not so subtly. All the women of the house are looking at their respective partners with curiosity, the news that the men had secrets kept to themselves startling them. “No way…” you breathe quietly, so only Chris can hear. You think… you know what’s... about to go down.

“Jeongin… I think now’s your chance,” Chris smiles encouragingly, and after a deep breath Jeongin pushes himself up onto one knee, and extricates a ring box from the depths of his cargo pants.

The squeals from all the women almost makes your eardrums explode, but you can’t frown on them - you’re probably the loudest. “Yes,” Ashley declares, even before Jeongin has uttered a word. “Hang on,” Minho growls, and Jisung finishes his statement, “Let the man speak.”

The man is sporting a shy grin and a delicate blush, and after another little chuckle, looks Ashley in the eye and says, “Do me the honour of sharing my last name?”

Ashley’s laugh is half scream, half giggle. She quietly whispers yes again, before she launches herself at Jeongin, toppling the both of them to the ground. Finally, the Skz Members cheer in celebration, shuffling over to pat Jeongin on the back and ruffle his hair once the recently engaged sit up again.

“Jeongin didn’t know how he was going to propose,” Chris speaks, dragging your attention to him, “So he came to us.” “Wait everyone shut up, I want to hear this,” Suhwa (Jisung’s gf) yells. She had been sitting on the couch next to you, sipping an Iced Americano while she video-recorded the entire Christmas present opening session.

The crowd turns towards you and Chris, and you sink further into his lap so they can all see him. “He’s had that ring on him for like a week. I was the one who suggested he keep it with him.”

“I didn’t want to risk another Y/N happening, so it was a good idea,” Jeongin bashfully smiles, and you scoff in disbelief. “What, didn’t want Ashley to nick the ring and propose to you herself?” Jinhee chortles from her position sitting on one of Minho’s knees.

“But I did like how Chan hyung kind of proposed out of the blue. It sounded more natural,” Jeongin rebuked. “So… all he had to do was wait for the right opportunity, and Y/N gave it to him,” Felix smiled, snapping another picture of Ash and Innie.

“See? I told you the gift was as perfect as you,” Chris whispers, kissing the top of your head proudly.

You… gave him the opportunity? Or… did someone else…? (A/N: If you know, you know)

You’re all sitting back around the Christmas tree again. The difference this time is that all the men are shirtless (not just Chris this time), and most of the women are. Sounds concerning, no?

Most of your shirt’s had been drenched from the impromptu water fight held in your backyard. The hose was brought out, sponges, buckets of water, water guns. And who was to blame? Bahng Christopher Chahn naturally.

He went out to water some plants before he forgot to do it and a few of his Kids’ followed. Eventually, the girlfriend’s followed, wanting to check out the flowers and plants you had growing… and then everyone was outside. Poor Felix was the first to be sprayed, much to his shock and Chris’ gasped laughter.

And that’s that.

You had dragged out all the blankets and towels you could find, wrapping each and every person as tightly as you could. Everyone had mostly dried out by now, but some were still sporting dripping wet hair and cold shorts/skirts/pants. You and Chris had broken into your Café’s supply of hot chocolate, coffee’s and tea’s and started up the coffee machine to make everyone drinks together, trying to warm up the shivering souls. Now, the sun was beginning to set.

“Me or Stray Kids?” Chris hums, prodding you with his knee on the couch. You look up from the book Kirsten (Changbin’s gf) had bought you to frown at your husband. “You or Stray Kids?” “Yeah - I ran out of storage and was trying to clear my camera roll and found that meme,” Chris nonchalantly shrugs.

“Then you know what my answer is,” you reply just as calmly, and turn back to your book. “So your answer is Stray Kids because I am Stray Kids?” Chris presses, raising a dark eyebrow. When you don’t respond, he frowns and shimmies over to you, shoving his face right up to yours and staring at you with wide eyes, “That’s your answer? Really?”

“Yeah,” you deadpan, giving in to the temptation to kiss his forehead. He put his face there, what else were you supposed to do? “I have a confession then,” Chris murmurs, dragging himself away from you, but still remaining at your shoulder.

“Do you now?” You murmur back in the same tone, eyes skimming to find where you were up to in your book. “I’m in love with someone,” Chris continues, eyeing your book haughtily, as though annoyed it had your current attention.

“Really?” You gasp, turning to him with surprise written all over your expression. “I’m- I’m in love with you-” Chris stutters, his eyes wide. Somewhere to your left, you can hear someone smack their palm on their forehead, and someone else curse, and someone else groan.

You shake your head at Chris and sigh, “We have been married for three years Chris. Three years.” Then with a dramatic whip of your head, turn to the Skz Family scattered on the floor, “Ladies, don’t marry your man unless you’re prepared to deal with his bullshit for the rest of your life.”

Chris laughs and grabs your neck, pulling your head to rest comfortably in his lap. “Me or Stray Kids?” He asks again, but this time you don’t even have to say anything, because your girls have got your back. “STRAY KIDS!!!!”

Chris scowls at the smirk on your face, and although he’s gently brushing your hair out of your face, he mutters, “You’re infuriating.” “Only for you~” you casually throw back, rolling slightly to press a kiss to his bare stomach.

“You know what, you’re both infuriating. There is only so much PDA I can handle,” Jinhee grumbles. “As if you haven’t just left hickies all over Minho,” Jisung scoffs. “Of course you’d notice Ji,” Soraya laughs, pausing her braiding of Hyunjin’s hair just to raise her eyebrows at Jisung. “It’s so fucking obvious-” “I’m hungry.” “You’re always hungry!” “Exactly, so what’s for dinner?”

“Take out because Y/N has enough dishes to wash already.” “I’ll help clean up!” “Me too!” “It’s okay I have Chris for that.” “Man do I miss those days we used to argue about doing chores. I proposed because you wouldn’t let me feed Minho’s cats.” “Breaking news! Bang Chan of Stray Kids proposed because he thought he wouldn’t have to do chores anymore!!” “Breaking news! Hyunjin needs to learn how to do more chores!!” “What? I do chores - I do everything you don’t want to do.”

“At least you don’t live with Felix.” “And what is that supposed to mean? I live by myself I have to do chores.” “You find a place to put all your hats?” “My hats aren’t all over the place, it’s not that bad.” “Hey! Hey here’s an idea! Next group gathering we go to Felix’s!!” “That is a terrible idea. We are not doing that.” “Agreed!” “Sounds like a plan!” “I’m in!” “No- no wait do I not get I say in this, this is my house we’re talking about” “Nope.”

You and Chris have fallen silent, watching from your higher positions on the couch as the banter continues, and poor Felix’s protests are ignored.

“I think I’m going to need a bigger house,” you mumble off handedly. “Why?” Chris looks down at you, his forehead crinkling. “It was manageable when you only had seven Kids’. Now there’s what… thirteen of them? Fourteen if Felix adopts one?” “They’re your Kids’ too. If you’re my wife, then you’re also their mother.” “Alright, it was manageable when we only had seven Kids’. I don’t think this house can handle any more…”

Your train of thought, isn’t entirely inspired due to the chaos of Stray Kids and their partners. There was something else you hadn’t told anyone yet. Just a few days ago, you had discovered something.

And you were definitely going to need a bigger house… regardless of whether the extended Stray Kids family decided to randomly rock up to celebrate Christmas. You had one extra bedroom… but you had a feeling that in the future, it wouldn’t be enough.

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-> PART 15 -> Masterlist

A/N: One more official one to go!!

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

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kaiso-woo · 3 months

Text

Name drop T-T

Pleasure to make your acquaintance :)

To Live the Life of Bang Chan

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Masterlist

PART 13 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 4.1k | Synopsis: Finally, the explanation for Chris experiencing the suic!des of Stays. After this chapter, there will be no further mention of it.

Notes: Angst (I actually cried), Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition.

PART 13

Carefully, you slot the book back into its spot with a small shake of your head. You’d been pacing this aisle for a little over 20 minutes, browsing the shelves from top to bottom. It’s harder than it seems, trying to pick out a book as a Christmas gift. You thought you had Ashley’s taste in books pretty down pat, but now that you were actually at your favourite book store, picking out a book for her was proving difficult.

You sighed and sat down on the floor, crossing your legs, taking a minute to scan the shelves, eyes flitting about, looking for a cover that stands out. In your peripheral vision, you spot some movement at the end of the aisle and tilt your head slightly towards it. After a quick glance however, you dismiss it as just another customer, and go back to browsing from the floor.

“Christmas shopping?” You flinch and swivel to look up at the very customer you had dismissed, towering over you. You offer her a small smile and take in her kindly features, takeaway coffee cup in her hand, a book clutched in the other.

“Yeah um- sorry am I in the way?” You mumble, shifting backwards slightly so she can get past. She smiles down at you and chuckles softly. With a swish of her long brown coat that trails down to her shoes, she joins you on the floor, taking a generous sip of her coffee.

You stare at the familiar cup, and wonder quietly if she had gotten it from your Café. You never know though, many Café’s use the same packaging. Maybe you should invest in branded takeaway cups. Your eyes scan her outfit, far too chic to be in a place like this, far too… business.

Other than her incredibly long cloak, she’s wearing a light brown turtle-neck sweater, tucked neatly into her loose black dress pants. The entire fit is finished off with a stylish belt of… silk perhaps, with a silver buckle, and her black shoes are slightly pointed and polished.

It takes you a second to realise you’ve been staring for a little long, and breathe a sigh of relief when you notice she’s busy searching the shelves like you were previously. Slowly, you turn back to do the same, fidgeting slightly at the strangely cosy atmosphere between the pair of you.

“Hm,” the woman hums, taking another sip of her drink, “Might I recommend something?” She turns towards you with a smile and holds up the book in her hands, shaking it slightly to catch your attention - “10 Ways to Turn Your Boyfriend into Your Husband”. You laugh, shaking your hands in front of you, “I’m married.”

Her smile only widens softly, and for a split second her expression is so similar to your husband’s soft smile that your eyebrows crease momentarily. “I wasn’t recommending it for you. I know you’re married.”

“Huh?” You stare at her, dumbfounded. “Your ring,” she chuckles, passing over the book. You take it from her instinctively, panicking as she forces it onto you.

“Oh. For a second I thought you were telepathic,” you chuckle drily, flipping the book in your hands to the blurb and briefly skimming it. “Unfortunately I’m not. Would’ve been a useful skill to have a while back though,” she sighs, staring sadly at her coffee.

“A while back? Why not now?” You question, mentally trying to figure out what to do with the book. Ashley wouldn’t read something like this… would she? Sure, she and Jeongin had been dating for a few years now, but did she really need a book like this? Might make for a good laugh though.

The girl hums quietly in thought, before she responds, “Would’ve been nice to know what was going on in his head.” You breathe out a sympathetic sigh and put the book into your lap, curiosity piqued.

“This was his favourite drink you know?” She continues, sipping from it slightly again. After a second, she straightens her posture and grins at you, “I do apologise. You didn’t come here to listen to a stranger in a bookstore ramble about their tragic backstory.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, twisting your entire body to face her, “I didn’t originally sure, but I’ll gladly listen now.” The corner of her mouth quirks slightly, eyes sparkling with something familiar, yet so foreign. Why does she seems so familiar?

“You’re so cute,” she states, before putting her drink down between her legs and leaning back on her hands. “What are you drinking then? What was his favourite drink?” You prompt, already assuming that this unknown man was a romantic partner.

“Ah…” she croaks, blinking at the drink she literally had just abandoned, “It’s… a caramel hot chocolate, with a dusting of cinnamon.”

Your heart stops in your chest momentarily. That’s Chris’ favourite. You make that for him all the time. “I got it from this Café not too far from here, it’s adorable honestly, such a creative nook.”

“Café Studio?” You press and when she nods, you dimly wonder whether you should tell her you own the place. “Anyways - long story short, my boyfriend died a few years ago.” “I- I am so sorry-” you manage, expecting something slightly different. A break up perhaps, not a death.

“Thank you, but it’s quite alright. There is no need to apologise for something you have no control over,” she seems to take the final sip of her drink then, shaking the cup slightly to check for any remainder. “May I ask… how?” You gulp, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Suicide,” she promptly states, and her smile is far too bright to be talking about this, “He jumped off a bridge and… drowned…”

Again, your heart stops. Your lips have gone exceptionally dry, breath lost somewhere in your throat. Well… doesn’t that strike awfully close to home? When she looks at you again, she’s got this expression in her eyes, one that throws you completely off and makes you recoil slightly. That sad, yet accepting gaze, relaxed as though she understands, and has complete control, over everything in her life.

“I don’t blame him really. He lived a rough life.” You shiver underneath her gaze, piercing your own a little uncomfortably, and your mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words.

“If there’s anyone to blame for it, it’d be me,” her voice is quiet as her eyes trail down to the book she had given you, “It just means I wasn’t enough to make him stay.”

All at once, you feel like you have a million things to say to her. This stranger. Her pain visible, but oddly numbed. She’s so familiar; a lost friend maybe, a person you knew in another life.

“Oh well. It is what it is, hey?” She laughs, idly toying with the coffee cup in her hands. “You shouldn’t- you know- it’s okay to grieve…” you frown, a little upset at her nonchalant attitude.

“Don’t worry, I did. I’m not heartless,” she chuckles, “But it was years ago. And… y’know, I’m trying to not burden myself with the loss of him.”

You nod in understanding, heart painfully throbbing as you wonder how you’d cope if Chris died. What if… you hadn’t saved him that time? “Like he always used to say… it’s better to just enjoy life,” she inhales sharply and turns back towards you, her smile lopsided, “Just enjoy.” (A/N: ...)

When you don’t respond, still at a complete loss for words, mind spinning, confused at everything, she stands up and holds out a hand. You hesitantly take it and she helps you stand graciously. “Hey, before you buy that book,” she nods at the one clutched in your hands, “Do me a favour and walk down to the end of this aisle, chuck a left and check out the books on display there?”

“Oh- oh yeah okay- sure?” You fumble, still holding onto her hand awkwardly. She flashes you a charming grin and turns to leave, but you cling to her hand a little tighter, “Can I get your number, actually?”

Her eyes widen and she contemplates you. Just as you’re trying to think of a reason why you’d like her number, she nods and asks for your phone. You watch as she adds her details to your contacts - Daniela Crane.

“You have a pretty name,” you mumble, taking your phone back. “Not as pretty as yours, I’m sure.” Then with a final smile and a little wave, she disappears from sight. You stand there for a minute, staring at her contact on your phone before you swivel around and follow her directions. Walk down to the end… head left and…

Immediately, your eyes land on a black book, its cover embossed with delicate trimmings of gold swirling into a vague impressionist image of a wolf. You hone in on it, snatching it from the shelf and blinking at the soft texture of the cover. It’s not fluff exactly, nor is it leather. You’re not sure what it is. There’s no title on the front, but when you open it to the first page, your brain goes blank.

To Live the Life of Bang Chan

What? Cautiously, you flick to a random page of the book, eyes skimming the journal entry-like writing until something sticks out. Heart leaping into your throat, you backtrack slightly.

I have known him for a long while, loved him for just as long - and yet why is it only now that I find out about this strange phenonmenon? This whole time I assumed his insomnia was due to his workaholic nature. I assumed his nightmares were due to his stress. I assumed those moments where he sprinted away and locked himself in his room was because he had suddenly an idea for a song. How stupid of me, how naive.

I can’t blame him, for not telling me. It’s in his nature to hide away his vulnerability. And besides, how would you even explain to someone that you had experienced death 100 times over? How would you explain that you suffered the suicides of the people part of your own fandom?

He only explained to me after I saw it happen. I watched him gag, and vomit and topple off the bed unconscious. Drug overdose.

You slam the book shut and march straight up the counter, putting both the books down to buy them. You came here hoping to buy one book for Ashley, and you were leaving with two, one which was recommended by Daniela… and the other… which was… also... had she meant for you to see this one?

The lady at the counter scans “10 Ways to Turn Your Boyfriend into Your Husband” and smiles at you, “Just $25 for that one dear.” “Oh- what about-” “This other one? I assumed that was yours. It’s not from our store, it won’t scan through.” “But I-”

She pushes both of the books back towards you, eyeing the strange black one carefully, “It’s alright lovely. Don’t worry about the other one. Consider it a Christmas gift.” After you pay for Ashley’s book, you whip out your phone and type out a message to Chris.

(A/N: When dialogue is in script format it’s meant to represent text messages)

You: Chris you won’t believe what I just found at the bookstore You: I don’t understand it’s insane You: It’s a book about you You: Not like a biography or anything You: it’s about your condition You: you know You: like how you experience the suicides of Stays? You: I’m so confused. It’s like a journal. But how?

When you get home, Chris still hasn’t replied to your messages. You figure out why when you peer into your bedroom - he’s asleep, head lolling to the side up against the headboard, headphones still snug around his ears, computer sliding off his lap slightly.

He stirs as you approach, apparently only half asleep, a soft smile melting onto his features as his eyes land on you. “Hey baby…” he yawns, removing his headphones and shutting his laptop, “How’d you go? You find something for Ashley?”

You toss Ashley’s book at him with a scoff, and he catches it, his smile breaking into a grin at the title. “Oh this is perfect. No honestly, you have no idea how perfect this is-” You bend down to remove your shoes, still clutching the second book tightly, and mutter, “Check your messages honey.”

He does as you say, and by the time you crawl onto the bed and settle between his legs, careful to move his headphones and computer out of the way, he’s frowning at the book in your hands.

“Is that a wolf?” He asks hesitantly, arms wrapping snugly around you, chin resting on your shoulder. “It is. And look at the title.”

Chris audibly exhales next to your ear, and you know his brain has gone blank, just as yours did. You thumb through the journal until you find that page you were on previously. It’s about a quarter way through, and the book itself is relatively thin.

You read that same part out loud, and you can feel Chris’ heart beat intensifying on your back. “That makes no sense-“ he breathes, “You’re the only one that knows- did you write this?”

You shake your head, “No of course not. I’ve never seen you die of drug overdose. I’ve only seen you drown.” “But that’s- it’s written about-” “I know, I’m just as confused.” “Keep reading,” he urges, lifting a hand to flip the page.

The next entry is at a much later date.

I don’t know what to do. It’s getting worse. It happens more frequently. No amount of research that I’ve done has helped. The only thing I can think of is to turn to the multiverse for answers, but that takes time - and I don’t have that. I can see him fading. He’s more distant. He came home today and said that his company had put him on temporary hiatus, to recuperate.

“The multiverse?” Chris mumbles, but this is hardly the most concerning information. “Okay so this isn’t you? You’ve never been put on hiatus.”

You read through page after page, skimming some parts that appear to just describe Chan’s worsening condition. There is one page that you struggle to read through, the writing fuelled with pain and emotions pouring out of the page.

You don’t realise that you’ve stopped reading out loud, and Chris nudges you slightly to let you know, “What is it?” “You died. Chan died.” “Like… actually?” He whispers, eyes trying to find the part that you got up to. You let him read it himself, heart crumbling as he retracts himself from you slightly to lean back on the headboard, his gaze distant. “Jumped off a bridge and drowned,” you mumble, turning to look at Chris slightly.

Isn’t this… exactly how Daniela’s boyfriend had died? Isn’t this exactly how Chris almost tried to kill himself?

You turn back to the book and flip to the next page. The entry for this one, is from only a few days ago. You begin to read through it on your own, Chris silent and lost in thought behind you. But your eyes begin to sting painfully as you read. When you sniffle slightly, Chris pulls himself back up to you, hugging you tightly, “Hey… hey what’s wrong, what did you read?” “Listen to this Chris…” “I’m listening-” he croaks out, hesitant, and you go back to read it out loud.

Ever since Chan died, I’ve taken it upon myself to figure out what his condition was, what it meant. I did as I said I would - I turned to the multiverse. As I write this, I am more knowledgeable than I was before, and I write this with one goal in mind. Soon, I’ll be able to travel through the multiverse, experimentally of course, and I hope to provide at least one alternate verse with the answers I never had.

My universe is considerably more advanced than many others I have researched. The concept of the multiverse is not foreign, it is widely known here, and consistently used in all fields of research. In your universe, I think the multiverse is merely an idea.

Throughout the past few years, I have studied the different verses, focused particularly on people who share the same condition as Chan did. He is not the only one to experience this, sometimes there are other individuals who have, but I was not interested in them. In almost every universe I scoured, the Chan’s, the Bang Chan’s, the Christopher’s, however he was referred to, shared the same condition.

There are of course, a few where he lives normally. I studied these verse’s where Bang Chan suffered, to figure out why ; why does it happen? It was the only question I needed answered. Initially, my conclusion was that for some reason, Chan experienced these deaths, and they would cease once he found her. Found his partner, loved her and was loved in return. A little bit like a soulmate trope I suppose, where his significant other is the antidote to his poison.

This is not the case. I realised this because, to put it frankly, my Chan’s condition only worsened. I thought for a while, had I not loved him? Had he not loved me? We both loved each other, cared for each other. I never once denied him my love. I recalled there being some universe’s where Chan’s significant other broke up with him, succumbed to the pressures of being in a relationship with him.

In many cases, Chan did not chase her. He let her go. In some, he fought for her, travelled the globe for her, because if he didn’t have her, his condition returned, much worse. This only seemed to support my previous hypothesis… but again… it didn’t make sense. Why then, did my Chan get worse? It wasn’t until I stumbled across your universe that things began to clear. I watched your relationship from the beginning.

Everyone’s timeline’s are slightly different. I’m thankful that you managed to save your… Chris, as you call him, before he chose to end it all. I watched your relationship blossom, pitied the both of you as you fought during your breakup, but the answer I had so desperately been searching for still evaded me. Even when you returned to him, continued to love him, Chris still had the occasional nightmare, didn’t he? So my question then is, when will it stop? Why does it exist?

I’ve watched the both of you for a while now, and as you read this, I think you’ll realise that Chris hasn’t had a nightmare, or experienced the suicides for a long while. A year or so maybe… have you Chris?

You pause at this, mind numb, turning to look at Chris, waiting for his answer. The journal is directly addressing both of you now, and you have no idea how, it’s a lot to process.

“I haven’t. I’d almost forgotten about it… to be honest,” Chris whispers, his expression blank. You take a deep breath and continue reading.

Every once in a while, there is a human who cares far too much for others, who loves with reckless abandon. Their heart is far too pure, too giving. They carry the weight of the many on their shoulders, and carry the burdens of those closest even more. They are a beacon of hope for the thousands, a role model, a leader, a happiness… and yet they do not love themselves.

I had been approaching this phenomenon the wrong way. It was never about his significant other. It was about Chan. It was about Chris. If he loved to the point where he was shouldering the world, protecting the many, this condition would develop. It’s the universe’ strange way of saying, “You want to live like this? Okay then… you can fully live this life, now you’re a severe empath linked to dying Stays.”

It was never about a significant other. It’s about Chris learning to love himself. Only once he loved himself, just as much as he loved others, would the condition stop. As an ENFJ-T myself, I realised that learning to love himself of his own volition would be a next to impossible task. Out of the hundred’s of universes that I scoured, only about 4 of them contained a Chris where his condition ceased thanks to him learning to love himself on his own.

In the others? He learns to love himself through the people around him. Sometimes it is a significant other. Sometimes it was Stray Kids. Chris’ condition no longer exists, in your universe, because he has learned to love himself, through you. He has learned to appreciate his flaws, his imperfections, through loving you. That is how you are the antidote. That is why my Chan worsened, and eventually killed himself for it. Although he loved and was loved, he did not learn to love himself in time. I wasn't enough, to make him stay.

You however. You are everything.

You have to put the book down at this point, and lean back into Chris, your body weight sagging completely into him. Chris only hugs you tighter, and with a startle you realise he’s quietly sobbing; his tears soaking into your shirt, the side of your cheek. You retract one of your hands from the book, adjusting your grip on it, so you can reach a hand up to stroke the side of Chris' face comfortingly, fingers toying with his hair.

Finally, you continue at a whisper, reading the last page amidst Chris’ crying.

I have my answer, and now I hope it helps you too. I know that my message will never reach the Bang Chan I wish I could say this to; he is out of my reach. I will say it here, nevertheless and hope your Chris understands my intention.

You fight, so hard. You work to your breaking point, testing your limits every second of the day. And you will never be satisfied with yourself. There is always room for improvement. In your life, I do not think you will ever sit back, and believe wholeheartedly that you are enough. You will more than likely always value the lives of those dearest to you, more than your own. You will wear your heart on your sleeve, believe it is your job to protect your family, your dream, your home, on your own. And I get it. I am like that too.

This was why my only wish to you, was that one day, you learn to love yourself. Whether this is through a significant other. Whether it’s through Stray Kids. Maybe your own kids. However you do it, I hope you learn to love yourself, because the weight of the world is heavy Chan, and you of all people deserve to love yourself, the way others love you.

I can continue with my life now, knowing that at least one Chan has fulfilled my wish, and that he will continue to do so in the future. - Dani

“Dani,” you breathe, and you flip to the last page, revealing a neatly penned name on the bottom edge of the book. Clearly the author: Daniela Crane.

“I met her- wait but she- she was the one- she was in the bookstore-“ You swivel in Chris’ grasp and press a tender kiss to his forehead, stroking his hair to help him ease his tears. When his breath steadies, you pull him into a strong hug and continue softly, “I met Dani… in the bookstore, I have her number, do you want to meet her?”

Chris heaves a shuddering gasp and nods into your chest. Careful to not remove yourself from his grasp, you fumble for your phone in your pocket and open up her contact.

You: Hey Dani! I never introduced myself earlier. My name’s Y/N. I met you in the bookstore. I read your… book. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up for a chat?

Not a second after you send the message, you receive one in return… but it’s the exact same as what you just sent.

You: Dani?

Again, your words are spat right back at you.

“What?” You murmur, pulling away from Chris to frown at your phone. He blinks at your phone screen, his eyes misty and shocks you with an accepting smile.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, taking your phone out of your hands and dumping it onto the bed, “She’s gone.” Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face into your neck, inhaling and exhaling steadily.

“But I don’t understand-” “Honey… she’s you,” Chris whispers, kissing your neck lightly, “She’s you from an alternate universe.” “But that’s- so in other universes- you’re dead. In other universe’s we might not know each other.” “Yeah, that’s what Dani seems to hint at.” “That’s… that’s so sad…” “It doesn’t matter.” “Yes it does- Chris you died. You died in another- I guess this answer’s my what if….” “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that here, right now. You’re in my arms. Right now, in this universe, I love you. And apparently… I love myself. Thanks to you.”

My only wish to you, is that one day, you learn to love yourself. Whether this is through a significant other. Whether it’s through Stray Kids. Maybe your own kids. However you do it, I hope you learn to love yourself, because the weight of the world is heavy Chan, and you of all people deserve to love yourself, the way others love you.

Stray kids everywhere all around the world, you make Stray Kids Stay

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 14 -> Masterlist

A/N: Allow me to introduce myself. My real name is... Daniela Crane, previously known to you all as... Kaisowoo...

Until next read! - Dani

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kaiso-woo · 3 months

Text

Oh dear lord what in the world did I just open tumblr to-

You were smooth for sure, but I got overwhelmed haha. You're still... joking about all this right T-T

You Stayed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Masterlist

PART 12 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 3.5k | Synopsis: Absolute fluff overload, but this time you're home with your husband Chris and you're trying to get some chores done.

Reimagined from @lovehyyuntold's (Guien, pronounced Gwen) "-Fluttering Between the Dusts of Our Love" - credits to her, and a nightmare I had, for quite literally inspiring this entire series; her fic is basically the base of this entire part, I merely added a few things here and there and reworked it just a little to fit my writing style and the series, and yes I have permission to upload this - honour to whom honour is due.

Notes: Fluff OVERDOSE, Angst, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

PART 12

“Hey hey- no!” You chide, clutching the laundry basket tighter to swiftly step away. “I just crave your affection,” he whines, his open hands grasping the air where you stood.

Your breath comes out as a huff, eyes rolling to the ceiling with a slight shake of your head. You scamper further from the bed as he scrambles closer, like a child longing for a bite of your ice cream. “I said no,” you continue, with a sharp wave of your finger, “I’m avoiding you for that very reason Chris.”

At your increased distance, he buries his face into the bed and writhes around like a worm, hands clinging desperately to the sheets, his next words adorably muffled. “We’ve been doing this for so long…”

Your lack of response causes him to sigh exasperatedly, and you watch as he picks himself up, grabs the nearest shirt by the edge of the bed and begins to fold it, carefully flattening out the creases. Admiration crinkles the corners of your eyes, irises twinkling as he pouts, a small smile creasing your features.

He’s moved onto one of your shirts now, and he folds it with a strange fondness, his hands gently placing it onto your pile; his actions soften your soul further. Your vision blurs as it disappears into your mind, a bubble of guilt emerging as you continue to gaze at him – an unsettling, heavy weight sinking into your gut.

His time with you is limited enough already, and you decide to fill it with chores? Your slight smile turns into a strained frown, and you swivel around to hide your displeasure, making your way to the laundry.

He’s a busy man. Too busy – but that was expected from a man with the entire kpop industry in the palm of his hands, an endless schedule of music production keeping him sprinting day and night. The group had extended their contract for a little longer, deciding to bask in their success for as long as they could; and you knew it pained him that it restricted his time with you.

And yet, he didn’t complain when you asked him for help. Okay, sure, he whined and teased, but you knew he wasn’t genuinely upset, just clingy. It would have been much more difficult to soldier through the chores if it weren’t for him, especially when every particle of dust could become a bunny, silently keeping to the shadows. It wasn’t exactly your faults when your careers were the overwhelming priority of your lives right now.

From breakfast to noon this cleaning fest had occurred, and the both of you were witnesses to the sun’s bright glow – it’s soft hue of gold glimmering into orange rays through the window. You were witnesses to the slight whistle of the wind slipping past the curtains.

Witnesses, and nothing more.

Your mind numb to your environment, you hadn’t noticed the heat radiating off the recently dried clothes. It wasn’t until you stepped back into your room, eyes falling to your husband, who’s back is now turned to you (still folding clothes diligently), that the heat catches your attention.

You shift your fingers uncomfortably, eager to put the basket down, but halt as an idea formulates in your mind, eliciting a small giggle. It would be karma, for Chris distracting you each time a new chore was started.

You tiptoe further into the room, creeping over to him, eyes trained on his movements. He’s muttering something to himself, no doubt related to his work, as he folds more clothes. You struggle to contain your laughter by this point, so there’s no doubt that he hears you. As expected, he turns around at the last second, effectively colliding with the laundry basket as you dump the clothes upon his figure.

Plan failed, but still successful anyways.

“Hot!” He hisses, flinching at the contact, “You cheeky little shit.” Chris reacts violently by reaching for you, an arm snaking around your waist almost instinctively.

Your malfunctioning reduces your reaction time, clutching your stomach as you wheeze with joy. The second you realise however, you wrangle his arm from your waist and wriggle away.

“Oh no you don’t!” He barks, stretching out further to snatch at your clothes. Your eyes widen as he tugs you roughly, causing you to stumble straight into his arms and topple both of you onto the piles of clothing scattered around the bed.

“How was that allowed, yet me offering my love to you earlier wasn’t?” He hums, his tone accusing as he burrows his head into the crook of your neck, spooning you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. This was to no avail however, as his arms tighten with each attempt – prey. You had become the prey writhing under the hold of a coiling snake; one so close to being devoured, should the escape fail.

“It’s allowed! It doesn’t count!” You squeak, courtesy of his mouth nibbling slightly on your ear, nose rubbing the back of your head, “And besides- I wasn’t showing you love or being a distraction really- Chris! That tickles! Stop-”

Far from obeying your request, he continues his antics towards the back of your neck, peppering it with kisses and occasional marks – tongue swiping here and there.

“Don’t resist… it’ll only get worse if you do,” he whispers calmly. (A/N: I had to roll over and scream into my pillow when I read this line of dialogue in Guien's work istg.) His breath caused goosebumps to arise on your skin, his fingers circling on your stomach eliciting a minute shiver. After a slight squeeze of your thigh, he switches up your positions, swiftly moving his legs to your sides, trapping you below him – smiling, he places his forehead on yours.

“I can think of plenty of other ways I can show you love,” he chuckles, gently kissing your nose. “You cheeky little-” “-shit?” He interjects swiftly, his thumb lazily caressing your cheek, eyeing your lips a little too obviously. (A/N: Writing my characters likes this is not fair to me, because there is no way anyone is ever gonna be this smooth with me.)

Perhaps he had managed to stun you into silence, or maybe (this was definitely the more valid reason), you’re too busy admiring him to respond. Curls of molasses fall down slightly, the sun’s gaze highlighting pure contentment written across his features. His eyelids are scrunched in adoration, his tender love spoken in the sigh against your lips – breaths lingering in a kiss that never occurred.

Eventually, you manage to choke out a response, gaze attached to the pure bliss that are his dark eyes - “We have chores Christopher.”

He lies both his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face beneath his grasp, and softly plants another kiss on your forehead. The infinite care with which he handles your head, as if you were the most fragile thing in existence, causes your heart to melt.

This feeling must have been expressed on your face, or maybe you are enough reason for him to smile again, eyes sparkling with an indescribable joy. He chuckles again, but this time the feeling is different – it’s like warm caramel next to a vanilla cake… that’s sitting beside a hot chocolate by the fireplace (A/N: ThAt MakEs nO SenSe, I’m sorry, but yeah!), as he begins to place kiss after careful kiss wherever he can, exploring the body he has already ingrained into the depths of his soul.

“I.” A kiss on your eyelid. “Can.” Kisses for your cheeks. “Never.” A kiss on your lips, biting delicately as if his desire could be explained through the action. “Get.” One below your earlobe. “Enough.” Another on your jaw, more as he ventures to your neck – dragging out the end of each word. “Of.” Collar bones now, painfully taking his sweet time as he descends to your chest and remains there, grabbing your left hand.

His gaze bores into you as your eyes flutter open, and he must’ve looked ravished for you – there was no doubt in the world that he was in dire need for love. Your love. He’s grown absolutely frantic without-

“You.” Finally, he plants a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Christopher,” you whisper, grabbing onto his arms – somehow you had almost forgotten how obsessively rough they’ve gotten. “You say my name like that ever again and I am not at fault for what happens next,” he mumbles back, the side of his lips curling up, holding onto you tightly – the space between you disappearing as he pulls your body closer. (A/N: I am dead, Kaisowoo is dead - when I wrote this, I had to leave my room. Tell me he is not like that, go on. Tell me he does not have a name kink *coughs*.)

“The- the chores…” you stutter, internally smug at your effect on him, but still trying with all your power to stay on the right track. “Chores aren’t my priority my love. You are,” he chuckles, nuzzling his face into your neck and inhaling heavily, drunk on simply just… you. As if they have their own mind, one of your hands curves around to his back, tenderly rubbing there, while the other tangles itself into his hair.

“I’m off tomorrow,” he murmurs, abruptly causing you to cease your ministrations, and your body stiffens at the news. He pecks your neck with a chaste kiss, never leaving his burrowed position, and you slowly resume your affectionate drawings on his back and tangling of his hair.

You knew he was scheduled to leave for a tour tomorrow. He told you months prior and hadn’t mentioned it again – but the date was engraved in your mind regardless. It was torturous, but he didn’t have a choice.

He chose this as his career, and these responsibilities and sacrifices came with it. Besides, his boys need him. He needs them. They rely on each other, care for each other – and all you could do, and will do, is support him. If you didn’t… you weren’t deserving of his love.

In the silence, the world around you crumbles, piece by piece, each slipping moment sending a fraction of your mind, your heart, tumbling into a darkness; the upcoming loneliness and longing for him due to his absence arriving early – even though he’s snug in your arms. His ability to casually sneak this into conversation dumbfounds you; too casual, especially when you grow miserable beyond compare without him.

Your minds at that moment must have been wired together however, so attune to each other’s thoughts; the following conversation reminds you that you aren’t the only one in pain.

“It hurts,” his whisper shatters the remaining fractures of your heart, and your eyes begin to sting with the threat of tears. “What hurts?” You croak, fingers now gently massaging the back of his skull. You ask this even though you know what the answer is.

“My wife – how I miss you,” he whispers, lathering you with more kisses, still refusing to abandon the warmth of your neck, “I barely get to spend any time with you anymore. Do you know how devastated I am whenever I arrive home, and you’re either asleep or at work?”

You can feel the frown forming on his lips, and he holds you tightly as the seconds trickle, as if worried you will disappear if he doesn’t. “Baby please. There’s no need to be devastated,” you clarify, understanding how much his job truly meant to him – knowing how much your own job meant to you.

“We both know it’s not your fault… and it’s not mine either. Also I literally work downstairs,” you go on, moving your hand down to caress the back of his neck and disappear underneath his shirt slightly, his warmth flowing onto your skin, “I know it’s not the same, but sometimes, we aren’t able to spend time with each other. We’re both busy people, especially you. And that’s okay. It’s why instead, we cherish these moments.”

He jolts up, and your hands are forced to abruptly shift comfortably to around his neck. His eyes are wide as they drill into yours, and your eyebrows furrow quizzically. When he says nothing, you begin to try and get back to chores once more.

“Now, let’s-” your sentence is cut short by a hearty giggle. Chris grabs your legs and wraps them around his abdomen, “What’re you- ah!” You squeal, clinging tighter to his neck. Deftly, he secures his hands around your waist and shuffles you both to the top of the bed, onto the pillows, where he gingerly lays you down again.

He hesitates not a second before he extricates himself from you and lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. “Christopher Bahng! Stop it!” You screech, as he nuzzles his head into your stomach, disappearing underneath your shirt, continuously placing kiss after kiss.

“Mmhmm… not happening sweetheart,” he presses a longer kiss to your skin, and you understand everything he wishes to convey in that moment, he doesn’t need any words. “It’s cosy down here,” he sighs, carefully tucking his arms underneath you – clingy.

At this point, the only way you can think to overpower him is by tickling, and eventually you manage to reposition yourself on top of him, straddling his chest (amidst his cursing and begging you to play fair – which was inconsiderate, considering he literally never did). You yank the pillow out from underneath his head and pretend to suffocate him with it. His mocking screams for help eventually satisfy you, and you chuck the pillow to the side.

“That was mean,” he pouts, and you don’t resist the urge to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, “That was really mean,” he grins and you offer one more kiss on the lips to apologise, “What if I said that was really really mean?”

You raise your eyebrows and boop his nose with a shake of your head and a quiet chuckle, before you relax on top of him, clinging like a koala to your special tree. He sighs dramatically and whispers, more to himself than anything, “Worth a shot,” then proceeds to hum to a slowed tune of one of Stray Kids’ songs, “Silent Cry”.

After a minute of silence and Chris’ peaceful lullaby, he grabs your chin softly and tilts your face up to gaze at him. “I love-” he begins, but your hand darts up to his mouth to stop him.

“I love you. You don’t even understand how much I love you. If I could pluck every single flower in this world, I would do so. I would spend my hours, my days, my years, taking the time to pick every single one, just for you.”

His eyes widen and his breath tickles the palm of your hand, but you continue, “Sometimes I don’t deserve your love. Your love cannot compare to- to anything- to-” you begin to break down as the thought of him leaving you trespasses your thoughts again and Chris’ eyes soften. Carefully, he pulls your hand away from his mouth, but only enough so he can pepper your palm with soft kisses.

“You know… that’s something that I’m supposed to say.” He chuckles. “Yeah? Well too bad, I said it,” you smile at him, as he wipes away the stray tear on your cheek. “God you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers, gazing at you as though for the first time in his life. (A/N: I swept my own breath away, the suddenness of his words, my lord.)

“Language,” you quietly whisper back. “Shut up you,” he grumbles, pulling you down to hug him again, “Who made you my wife?” “Bang Chan did,” you laugh, the sound causing a small smile to quirk his lips.

“Why’d he do that?” He moans, rolling his eyes mockingly. “Because he loves me?” “That’s right darling. I love you. I fucking love you. And I would gladly fuck-”

You cut him off before he gets the chance to start anything again, “I love you too Chris.” His eyes twinkle as he watches you snuggle into him further, hiding the stain blooming across your face.

He wishes, more than anything, that you understand the weight of those words. It’s his desperation, his goal, to make sure that you never live without knowing his love.

I love you too, Chris. I love you too.

In this moment, all worries have been forgotten – temporarily of course. There will come a time when you wake up the next day to the sound of him shuffling around, gathering his things before he leaves. There will come a time, where you cling to his arm at the airport, unwilling to let him go, despite his efforts to prise you from him.

There will come a time when he smiles at you brightly and offers a final wave, but then pulls down his beanie to cover his eyes, shimmering with salty tears as he turns away, leaving you struggling to deal with visibly seeing him in pain.

In this moment… however, it is currently 2.23pm. Your chores have been forgotten – the piles of clothes laying dejectedly on the bed, the dust bunnies breeding for all you care, because it’s just you, and your husband, frozen in a capsule of time, drifting off into sleep, and there’s no place you’d rather be.

-- from here on, it is completely my own writing

You wake to the smell of sizzling food, and in a moment of dazed sleepiness, struggle to comprehend the lack of warmth by your side. It takes you even longer to process the lack of clothes on the bed, and dimly struggle to recall if you managed to finish folding them earlier.

The curtain has been pulled shut, leaving the room in darkness, and with a slight moan you roll over to check the time on the digital clock by your bedside.

7.56pm.

“Chris?” You call out, tumbling out of bed and haphazardly dashing straight towards the only source of light you can see – the kitchen. As soon as you stumble into the room his eyes snap up to meet yours, lowering the knife he was using to focus his attention on you.

Your breath hitches as a memory, unbidden, returns to you. A bridge. A railing. An idiot draped in black, his eyes sparking in shock at the sight of you, then relaxing as though he understands, and has complete control over… everything… in his life.

“Hey honey, you okay? Did you have a good sleep?” You blink slowly at him, trying to string your thoughts together and remind yourself that he’s not like that anymore.

“Yes. I- did you fold all the clothes?” You waddle over and eye the food he’s preparing, obviously for dinner. “Mhm,” he hums, returning to his vegetables.

“You didn’t do anything else did you?” You question, turning to wash your hands in the sink. Chris doesn’t respond, so you prompt him again, “Chris?” “No.”

Lies.

“What else did you do Chan?” He sighs, knowing that the use of his alternate name means you’re not playing anymore, and scrapes the vegetables into a bowl effortlessly, “I vacuumed the apartment, tidied the studio, decluttered the office and pulled the weeds out of the garden.”

You slowly turn the tap off, a familiar bubble of guilt sidling into your stomach. He did all that while you slept? You slide over to him and tap his shoulder demandingly, “Let me finish up here, what are you cooking?”

He glances at you, but refuses to move out of the way, diligently moving on to the next set of vegetables. You huff impatiently, then duck underneath his arms and wriggle your way in between, carefully easing the knife out of his grasp.

“What are you cooking?” You ask again, over the top of his amused laughter. “You’re so cute,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your shoulder, swaying slightly to a non-existent tune.

“I won’t be cute in a minute if you don’t tell me what you’re cooking.” You hiss, which only causes him to laugh more. “A dish you don’t know the recipe for,” he responds haughtily, to which you roll your eyes. “I know every single dish you’ve ever cooked.”

“Not your favourite dish; the one my Mum makes. We’ve never shown you how to make that,” he giggles, before he picks you up bridal style, causing you to yell and dangerously wave around the knife. He dumps you onto the couch in the living room and plucks the knife from your hands.

“How’s this? I’ll finish cooking, you can clean the kitchen after,” he places a kiss on your forehead and makes to return to the kitchen, but just as he’s about to disappear, pops his head back around again, “Find a movie to watch love and we can eat together, yeah?”

After a disgruntled sigh and a moment in which your gaze lingers over where he was, you scramble for the remote and flick on the TV, scrolling to find what you know to be his favourite movie.

I love you.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

And I miss you already…

Four and a half years ago you had pulled him away from certain death.

What if… you hadn’t?

Thank fuck you did.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> PART 13 -> Masterlist

A/N: Thank you Guien, for inspiring this incredible writing journey :D

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

46 notes · View notes

kaiso-woo · 3 months

Text

Yes honey~

Do me the honour of sharing my last name? Or even better, I'll take yours. As for the ring, I have it, safe and sound. All I ask for in return is your heart; be mine for eternity?

HAHAHAHAHAH HAH

I'm sorry, too much? I'll stop haha.

Soonie, Doongie and Dori

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Masterlist

PART 11 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE OTHER ONE BEFORE THIS!!

WC: 4.7k | Synopsis: I don't really want to spoil anything, but Chris takes you out on an adorable... rather significant date.

Notes: Fluff OVERDOSE, Angst, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

PART 11

Complete with an amused smile and a laughing man at your side, you gently shove Minho out of your Café, encouraging him to leave for the umpteenth time. “Min they will be fine,” Chris insists, his cheerful face hidden between his fingers, trying his best to stop his laughter.

“Turn the TV on for Soonie if he misses me; he’ll watch something with me in it!” The worried man yells, craning his neck to try and catch sight of his cats one last time before he leaves. “Yes and Dori’s favourite toy is that fluffy mouse on a string, and Doongie likes to sleep on pillows, and all three of them like the same cat snacks,” you recite, the specificities ingrained in your braincells.

Minho’s cats have come to stay while his parents go on vacation. They can’t stay at his dorms obviously, so instead you offered to help him out. Your Café does have that pet day/night care… but this one would be free of charge. “I’ll be back as often as I can Y/N, thank you so much,” Minho bows, and you shake your head at him. With one final fleeting glance through the windows, Minho disappears from sight.

Chris wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling into you from behind, “He loves his cats more than he loves us, I swear.” “They’re his kids, what do you expect?” You grin, turning your head slightly to kiss his cheek.

"And you’re sure it’s definitely okay to leave his kids alone in your apartment for a few hours tonight?” Chris questions, pulling away from you to head upstairs. “Absolutely, I’ve made my place cat proof and there’s plenty of entertainment. I might just leave the TV on too and put on a playlist of Stray Kids content,” you chuckle, following your boyfriend upstairs.

Right, Chris has organised a little date - but he hasn’t told you what. Sound familiar?

“Hey Chris- can you at least give me a hint so I know what to wear?” You sigh, rummaging around in your wardrobe, stressing. After a second of silence, Chris walks in to join you. He looks a little flustered, his hands fidgety and eyes wide. Biting his lip, he tugs at a random pair of pants from your shelf, tosses them at you, then after a brief hesitation, disappears to his wardrobe and fishes out one of his hoodies.

You raise your eyes at him and he shrugs, “Comfy is all you need, don’t stress.” Then he disappears around the corner again, sprinting away with tiny steps. “Comfy is all I need,” you repeat, voice mocking as you throw his hoodie over your head, “Then what the hell are you wearing Christopher?”

It’s a valid question.

He’s dressed in a light blue collared button up with the sleeves rolled up, faded-grey ripped denim jeans and stylish black platform boots with innumerable laces and even a decorative zip down the side. You supposed he looked comfy, but still he was a lot more dressed up than just a pair of jeans and his hoodie.

You sigh and brush your hair out of your face, trying to neaten it up in a way that it’d still look okay underneath a hood. You’re half contemplating taking your fashion into your own hands and finding something to wear yourself, using Chris’ fit as a guide, when the man in question ricochets into the bathroom.

“Hey- how far away are you from finishing up?” He breathes, eyeing you from head to toe. “Like five minutes- I just need a little makeup since you said ‘dress comfy’,” you frown, staring at him through the bathroom mirror. Dress comfy. He’s wearing makeup himself and has his hair all styled… and you’re… in his hoodie. “Chris- why are you-”

“Can you make it ten minutes? Take as much time as you need…” he pleads, puppy eyes emerging from nowhere. At this you turn to stare at him, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his hoodie since it’s a little oversized.

“You want me to take longer?” You breathe. He’s got silver jewellery on too; thick, circular earrings and pearled bracelets. “Yep,” he simply replies, and then disappears again. “Uhm…” you’re left dumbfounded as you slowly turn back to the mirror.

Rather than the five minutes you had proposed, you extend it out to fifteen, trying to find jewellery that compliments the jewellery Chris is wearing. By the time you exit the bathroom, sneakers and socks in your hand, the sun is beginning to set. Chris is crouched by his bedside drawer, scrummaging through the contents.

“Where the fuck did I put it?” You stand there, watching him as he bends to peer under the bed, “Where the fuck- how the fuck?” When he props himself back up on his knees swiftly, he freezes at the sight of you staring at him.

“Need help finding something?” You laugh, stooping to put your socks on. “No,” he curtly responds, hoisting himself up scratching the back of his neck, “No- it’s fine… I’ll find it-”

You shrug and finish putting on your shoes as Chris returns to his frantic search, “Wanna tell me what it is? I might’ve seen it.” Chris laughs and disappears into the office, shifting a stack of papers out of the way by the sound of it, “You won’t have seen it. It’s fine, I’ll find it.”

You frown and poke your head around the door, watching him open drawers roughly and slam them shut with just as much force. “If you’re looking for your wallet… it’s in the kitchen…” you helpfully add, smiling as Dori pads up to you and rubs up against your leg.

“No… it��s fine I know where that is. It’s fine. It’s okay, I’ll be with you in a sec just head down stairs babe, I just need… five minutes,” he mutters, whizzing past you and out into the living room. You follow him out and see that he’s desperately searching every nook and cranny of the couch. “Christopher- what are you looking for?” “Sorry Doongie, you’re gonna have to move mate… did you eat it?” “Chris.” “Where the hell did I put it?” “Christopher.” “How did I manage to lose…” “Honey.”

Finally, he stands to look at you, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. “Is it that important…?” You tilt your head at his silence, at his eyes drilling into your own. “You have no idea…” he whispers, then throws his head back with a groan, “Just go downstairs, I’ll be with you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, yeah?”

You do as he says, mind spinning excessively as you idly scroll on your phone. Chris rubs your back to let you know he’s behind you, and when you turn around your heart fades a little at the sullen expression on his face. “Couldn’t find it?” You whisper calmly, and Chris smiles sadly. “No. Nope. I’m an idiot… but…” it takes him a great deal of effort to say the next few words, his voice strained, “but it’s okay, we should just go before it gets too late.”

“Where’s your car…?” You ask, blinking at the empty spot where it usually sits out the front. “It’s already there,” Chris sheepishly smiles. His overall posture is still deflated, and even though you’ve assured him countlessly that he’ll find this important object one day, nothing seems to cheer him up.

“It’s… already there…” you repeat, eyes narrowed, “if… the car is already there then how are we supposed to- okay none of what you just said makes any sense.” Chris pulls you towards him to kiss your forehead, and then with a soft smile, links his hand with yours easily. “You’ll see when we get there. It’s not too far,” he strokes some hair out of your face and begins to drag you in the direction of his… mysterious date.

He’s right. He’s taken you to the park around the corner, the place where you’d go to eat ice cream, or feed the ducks, or bask on a picnic blanket in the sun. Sometimes you’d go for a walk, or for a bike ride… skateboards was always the best. In no time, you spot Chris’ car parked on the grass, and you dimly wonder if this is even allowed. There’s no one else around though - the sun has just about disappeared behind the horizon.

As you draw nearer, Chris unlocks his car and drags you around to the boot. “Okay wait here,” he insists, and with a deep breath, he opens up the boot to reveal… a picnic… set up? He’s pushed the back seats down so there’s more space, and there are cosy blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere. Your favourite books are nestled in the corner, and you have a feeling he’ll want you to read to him - one of the many things he asks you to do when you’re together.

There’s a little picnic basket waiting to be opened on the other side, and a box of sweet treats carefully decorated. Chris takes another deep breath and reaches into the car to fiddle with a switch. In just a second, a string of fairy lights flickers to life, twisting and bending in and out of the blankets, along the interior of the car and dangling down from the roof.

Your mouth falls open in pure shock. “I’ll… I’ll turn these off later and open up the sunroof and we can…” he begins, but you finish his shy sentence before him, “Lie back and look at the stars?”

He smiles and nods slowly, biting his bottom lip nervously. Your face breaks into a delirious grin, and you charge forward to tackle him with a hug, positively knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“I love you,” you huff, burying your face into his chest and squeezing him as tightly as you can. His warm chuckle and arms snaking around to squeeze you back make your heart explode, the safety, adoration and security he brings with just those actions making your head spin. "I love you too..." he whispers, his voice breaking slightly.

“I love you, you’re adorable. You’re so- you did this all yourself?” You ask, breathing heavily into his shirt. “Mhm…” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head affectionately, and then one more time for good measure, “Only for you…”

You pull away slightly to stare at him, and your heart stops at his gaze, his tender expression. All you can see is you, reflected in his eyes. “I love you,” you breathe again. His eyes narrow slightly with happiness, and the corners of his lips quirk just a little.

He’s silent as you stare at him, grinning childishly. He’s silent as you grab his wrist and hop up into the car, dragging him with you. He’s silent because he’s watching you. Watching your happiness, watching the twinkle in your eyes. Watching the curve of your smile, and the gentle flow of your hair.

He’s watching you and wishing to god, wishing with his soul… that he hadn’t misplaced that ring.

—

A/N: HAH HAHHAHAHAHA. HAH.

—

“Jagiyaaa! You sit back down right now, I will feed the cats in two seconds,” you yell, trying to shove your books back into the bookshelf. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Chris shouts back, his head already buried in the pantry.

“I’m the one who offered to look after the god damn cats. Can you sit down for one second and pick out a movie?” You chide, rushing over to him and practically yanking him out of the kitchen. “I just want to help,” he pouts, laughing as you use all your strength to push him back to the couch.

Chris’ little date had felt like it lasted for eternity; giggling, reading, snuggling, staring, eating. The stars seemed especially bright tonight. Now you were back home. You’d only been out for a couple of hours at most, but it was enough to make your heart swell with love for this man. There was absolutely no way he’d be allowed to lift another finger for the next week, you swear.

You manage to shove him back to the couch, and he flops onto the couch when you force him to sit, pushing on his shoulders, but he follows you immediately when you turn away to get the cat food.

“Chris go away. I’m feeding the cats, stop being so stubborn,” you groan, speeding up your pace to the pantry. You swipe the tinned food into your hands and dash off towards Soonie, Doongie and Dori’s feeding bowls. Chris chases after you, leaping over the back of the couch to halt you in your path.

“Give me the food,” he grins, spreading his arms wide to stop you. “No! I’m feeding them!” You scowl, trying to get passed him, but he scuttles in your way again.

“Give it,” he insists again, this time gesturing with two of his fingers, his bottom lip between his teeth. You sigh and walk closer, pretending to give in, but instead press a chaste kiss to his lips.

When you pull away, his head follows you slightly, looking for more, and in his distracted state, you slip past him smirking. “Okay. Foul play,” he states, swivelling around to follow you again, “Just let me feed the cats.”

“Why do you want to feed them so badly?” You question, opening the tin and kneeling down to pour it into their bowls. He could be asking you the same question. Chris sits down next you cross legged and shrugs, watching you fill the three bowls with your tongue sticking out of your mouth, trying to estimate the portions correctly.

“It’s just one little job. And I wasn’t about to make you do it, not after that date you set up,” you continue. Chris has fallen silent, but you hardly notice, fixated instead on the cat food and your train of thought. He’s simply watching you again.

“I can’t believe you did all that by the way. It was so cute.” By this point, Chris practically can’t even hear you. He’s sitting with his hands in his lap, his head tilted to the side slightly, watching the movement of your lips.

“Anyways, I’m feeding the cats because you shouldn’t have to care for everything.” He’s smiling as he waits for that particular strand of your hair to slip past your ear and flop onto your face, his mind a haze, heart steadily beating in his chest.

“I’ll look after Minho’s cats, and I’ll look after you too, just like you look after everyone else.” Finally, you look up at him, and immediately you know he hasn’t heard a word.

“You’re not listening are you?” You chuckle, smiling at his dazed expression. He’s still silent for a second, just staring lovingly, and then the words tumble out of his mouth… the words you’ve been waiting for, and with a jolt of your heart you realise this is it.

“Marry me,” he whispers, not a fleck of insincerity in his voice. He’s not joking this time. He swallows in your silence, sitting up straighter to continue, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“Look I know- I know I’m not on one knee like I said I would be- I was meant to propose properly like an hour ago during our date- but I- I lost the ring, I can’t for the life of me find it, and I’m so- I’m so sorry- but I mean- I just want so badly to be your husband- and even though there’s no ring-”

Your smile has only intensified into a grin with each passing second of him rambling. Slowly, you put the cat food down and reach into your front hoodie pocket, hands fumbling around for the item you’d stowed away, kept on your possession the moment you’d found it amongst his clothes two days ago.

“There is a ring though…” you interrupt, and he abruptly stops his heartfelt explanation. “What?”

Chris watches, his mind stuttering, as you prop yourself up on one knee in front of him and withdraw a familiar ring box from your (his?) hoodie. His mouth falls open slightly at the sight of it, growing exceedingly dry as you flip it open, revealing your ring.

“Will you marry me, Bahng Christopher Chahn?” You grin, struggling to contain your laughter. “Hang on- wait a minute- where did you find-” Chris begins, rubbing his face. “Awh just answer the question~” you tease. “No that’s not- I’m asking the question not you, that’s not how this is supposed to-” “Will you marry me?” “Wait- wait no this is insane, this is not-” “Will… you… marry… meeeeeeeeee?” “I’m so stupid.” “And I’m waiting.”

(A/N: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TELL ME SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS THIS PARALLEL)

Chris looks at you, then down at the ring, and then back up at you. He caves in those seconds, his voice cracking as he sits up on his knees and cups your face, “Yes. Yes of course you fucking shit, yes I’ll marry you.“

Finally, you let your laugh escape you, and his own face breaks into a grin at the sound. “This is unbelievable- I cannot believe this,” he murmurs, his voice feeble as he pulls you into a suffocating hug, “You had it this entire time? Don’t tell me you knew even when I was searching for it earlier.” “Oh I knew.” “You’re a fucking shit- I was so sad. I was so fed up with myself, I thought I ruined that entire date- you’re a fucking little shit.” “I could tell - you looked so defeated, but it’s okay… because it just made the whole date 100x sweeter.”

“I fucking hate you.” “And you’re sure you want to marry the person you seem to hate so much?”

Chris glares at you, then pulls you in for a mind-numbing kiss, your senses tuned in to only the feeling of your fiancé in front of you. You don’t even hear Soonie, Doongie and Dori meowing at you to move out the way so they can eat their food in peace. (A/N: Yeah! Move out the way bitches, us cats are hungry and our Dad would be mad at you right now!)

The sun was warm on your back, the sand ticklish between your toes as you took steady steps down the aisle, clinging tightly to Noah’s arm. You smiled happily at the adoring gazes of the rest of your family - Kiara, Dennis and Ryan. Chris’ family was here too, Jessica and Jack Bahng standing proudly with matching grins. Hannah and Lucas, you noted, had already been for a little dip in the water.

Stray Kids, and Ashley of course attended the wedding too - and as you walked passed them you couldn’t help but bow your head and laugh at their wolf whistles and cheers. Chris’ was a grinning mess, looking as handsome as ever, and once you finally reached him, he couldn’t resist kissing you happily. This of course, resulted in yells of dismay and laughter alike.

You weren’t wearing a veil, and your hair was completely out, blowing gently in the sea breeze. It felt... unnecessary here.

You barely managed to get through your vows, struggling to form a coherent thought with the way Chris was looking at you, and when it was his turn your brain completely malfunctioned, admiring the way his tie sat snugly on his neck, his windswept hair, the happiness on his face.

“You’re not listening are you?” Chris pauses, smiling softly and brushing your hair out of your face. You blink and turn away slightly, trying to wake yourself up. “Yeah sorry- I am so sorry- you’re just- hoo you’re hot in a suit I swear to god.”

As soon as the official ceremony was over, the Stray Kids members swooped in… grabbed you by your wrists and ankles… and sprinted you all the way over to the water, Chris being roughly tousled over too. You laugh at the familiarity of the situation, squealing slightly as the cold water drenches you.

Everyone surrounds the pair of you, Chris getting shoved into you as you try to stand, and you cling to him desperately. Jisung starts up the chant, and you grin at your husband, knowing you’re both thinking the same thing. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You do. This time you do. Chris pulls you into a searing kiss, tasting slightly of salt water, one hand cupping your face, the other clinging tightly to your hip. When you separate, his forehead remains on yours, and he whispers, “What do you say we dunk Jisung first, hey?”

You laugh and nod, then kiss him swiftly one more time before you both turn with mischievous grins towards Jisung. His raucous cheering ceases, and he morphs right back into a quokka, trying to hide behind Minho as you and Chris race towards him.

You’re sitting with your head resting on Chris’ shoulder, waiting patiently as he opens up a video on his computer. You’ve just gotten back from your honeymoon, spent travelling all over the place. To Perth, where your family lives, to Sydney, where his family lives and even back to the place where your other Café is located - where he first met you.

“So… this is something I’ve made…” Chris smiles, sliding his finger on the mousepad, “Actually, the Kids’ helped with the song… but I produced it, wrote the lyrics for it, and I filmed almost everything in this video.”

You snuggle into him more, excited to see what new Stray Kids’ content was to be released. He seems to understand your train of thought, “It’s not for Stray Kids though.”

You frown and look up at him, confused. He only smiles and slides the mouse to the top of the video, so you can read the title.

‘For My Love’

“Is this that- wait is this that song you started writing ages ago?!” You ask, jaw completely slack.

Chris kisses the top of your head happily, then after a shuddering breath, presses play.

(A/N: And you should pull up the song "Mixtape: OH" by SKZ too. I've tried to time the writing with the music, so I hope it's okay. When the song starts, continue reading onwards!!)

As soon as the music reaches your ears, you’re tossed into disbelief, the nostalgic tune hitting you hard immediately. On the screen, there’s only the title, flickering in and out of sight.

The footage fades in when Jisung begins to rap, beginning with carefully edited videos of you. Just you. Walking ahead of Chris, unwrapping your birthday present, making coffee… cooking dinner, working in your office, sleeping… dancing around in the living room, playing with the animals in your daycare, reading… brushing your hair, talking with customers, listening to one of Chris’ new songs, swinging on some swings.

Then you notice the videos start to include Chris. Eating ice cream together, snuggling on the couch, walking hand in hand… watching a movie, messing around in the JYPE dance rooms, in the studios, in the dorms…

I thought I knew I was arrogant as if I knew everything But I didn't know, with you Why does it get harder the closer you get?

During Chris’ part, his vocals distinct, he’s standing as a relatively distant silhouette on a beach, the sun setting wistfully behind him, dancing and singing as a shadow. Your heart is painful in your chest.

As the chorus hits, the videos of both of you return, but they seem brighter, more vivid. Perhaps there was a filter on the previous videos muting their colours. This time it’s more than just you and Chris. You and Chris are with Stray Kids’, then with Ashley, then with your family, then with his. Your eyes are misting over, and you barely register that the real Chris is humming softly along to the tune beside you. You don’t even remember half of this footage being taken, but you remember the events.

All the Stray Kids members are now yelling into the camera, but they bob down to reveal Chris behind them all, just so he can say “Can I call you baby?”

Ayy (Baby) Can I call you baby? Ayy (Yeah, baby) In front of love, I'm still a kid

From here on, the music fades slightly, disappearing to become merely background music. The footage is now the main focus, the music quietened so the other audio can be heard.

Chris has propped his phone up on the bedside table, and it’s with a start that you realise he’s sitting on your old bed, the one you had before you moved to Korea. “I got you back. You’re back with me now. I’m so glad that you’re- I’m never losing you again. I should have paid more attention. I’m just glad that you’re back with me.” Chris swivels around to stare at the bathroom for a second, “Mhm, yeah you’re in the shower right now. You’re home. You’re with me.”

New video, new environment. Chris is sitting on the common room couch of your old Café, playing with a pillow in his lap. “It’s your birthday today!! You’re upstairs with Ashley, she’s doing a good job of keeping you entertained. I’ll see you in a bit. I’m gonna call you. Oi! Seungmin stop hitting Changbin!” “He hit me first!” “No- no fighting-“ The video cuts off as Chris reaches for the camera, his attention elsewhere.

The next video displays you, sitting on the floor trying to understand how to put the bed frame together. Chris peeks the camera around the door frame, talking in hushed tones in the background. “Welcome to your new home. Look at you, so hard at work already. You must be so tired jagi. Your plane fight must have been tiring, and yet you’re up and busy trying to look for screws. Behind you… nope other way ah there we go. You found them. Just like you found me. I’m glad you found me. I’m so glad you found me.”

When the bridge of the song hits, the mood is slightly different, and you know you’re going to have puffy eyes by the end of this video… because the footage shows a bridge. One that you distinctly remember. One that changed your life forever.

Chris holds his phone out to include him in the footage, and he stands there, leaning against the railing, smiling. “This is where I met you, jagi. This is where you found me. Right here, on this bridge. I tried to die. I did. I told you I just wanted to see what it looked like, but I lied. I genuinely- I wanted to drown. But you saved me. You still save me. Every day. Thank you. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving me.”

The footage swiftly changes and now Chris is leaning on a sign post, and his mood is considerably happier here. “I kissed you for the first time ever here, right after you ran into this pole. Aha, I remember that so clearly - I don’t know how you managed to- but anyways… I finally kissed you, after wondering for soooo long what it would be like. I did it. And now I’ve kissed you a million more times and will do so millions of times more. If you’ll let me.”

Chris is climbing a set of steps now, and he’s muttering into the camera, the footage shaky as he climbs. “I had to get permission to come up here, because you don’t live here anymore. The manager of this Café Studio does- but anyways. Look here we are, your old house! It’s a bit different now, obviously… but… if we go through here… ta dah! You said you loved me here. I was so happy, so unbelievably happy you have no idea. I’m never going to forget the way you did that. You were so cute wow… woah being in here is a trip down memory lane. Wow… you’re still cute by the way, just saying.”

The video fades to black, the final few notes of the song ringing in your ears, and in the same font as the introductory title, the words ‘Thank you for loving me’ fade onto the screen, resounding and final.

You turn to the real Chris, who’s softly smiling at you, his eye’s utterly full of adoration and love. “Thank you for loving me,” he repeats, and you pull him into a hug, crying into his neck openly.

Thank you. For loving him.

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-> PART 12 -> Masterlist

A/N: I'm a puddle right now.

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

48 notes · View notes

kaiso-woo · 3 months

Text

I was so soft after writing this... so soft. So happy, so soft, so fluffy- SO SAD. LIKE WHY AM I WRITING ABOUT THIS WHEN I COULD BE GETTING MARRIED MYSELF T-T

This fic has my heart; the sugary, sweet, adorable, funny nonsense that it is. My google search bar: how to turn my fictional writing into reality??

I have an idea though: since we both want to get married, just marry me :D

HAHA

Soonie, Doongie and Dori

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-> Masterlist

PART 11 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE OTHER ONE BEFORE THIS!!

WC: 4.7k | Synopsis: I don't really want to spoil anything, but Chris takes you out on an adorable... rather significant date.

Notes: Fluff OVERDOSE, Angst, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

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PART 11

Right, Chris has organised a little date - but he hasn’t told you what. Sound familiar?

It’s a valid question.

“No… it’s fine I know where that is. It’s fine. It’s okay, I’ll be with you in a sec just head down stairs babe, I just need… five minutes,” he mutters, whizzing past you and out into the living room. You follow him out and see that he’s desperately searching every nook and cranny of the couch. “Christopher- what are you looking for?” “Sorry Doongie, you’re gonna have to move mate… did you eat it?” “Chris.” “Where the hell did I put it?” “Christopher.” “How did I manage to lose…” “Honey.”