#christopher chan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaiso-woo · 5 months

Text

The Date of All Dates

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

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

-> Masterlist

PART 5 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 10.5k (longer than usual, I am so sorry) | Synopsis: Slice of Life. Just a fun little date with your boyfriend ^-^ Oh what's that? The pair of you cause a scene at a restaurant? Society knows about your relationship? Is there a break up? What's happening?! Oh no!!

Notes: FLUFF + ANGST, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Threatening (assassin?, fork?), Jealous!Chan (briefly), Angry!Chan (:DD), Drug Mention (in a joke), Swearing, Pet Names Used (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love - there are like 50 million others if I'm being honest I'm not listing them all I'm sorry T-T), Kisses (Duh)

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 - BRIEF MENTIONS IN THIS FIC

PART 5

!!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!!

The video had popped up on your feed, and without much else to do, you clicked on it, happily fast forwarding to the action. Stray Kids had landed at the airport, preparing for a performance nearby. This live was a while ago though, and you smiled softly at the sight of Chris, walking with powerful strides behind the rest of the group, his protective eyes peering out from between his mask and beanie.

The man in question nudged your shoulder, squinting curiously at you, again, covered up by the same mask. Different beanie this time though, and he had his hood pulled up over the top. “Why’re you watching that when I’m right here?” he chuckles, leaning in so he can speak directly in your ear.

“I’m not allowed to come watch you land, so at least I can watch it here,” you chuckle back, admiring the way the Chris on your phone comfortingly placed a hand on Jisung’s back to direct him through the crowd, letting him know he wasn’t alone. “I don’t understand why JYP won’t let you really,” Chris mumbles, snuggling in closer to watch himself over your shoulder.

You tilt your phone screen towards him slightly, “I think it’s obvious.” “Yes but you could just be any other fan. I’m not saying you should personally be waiting to pick me up. You could still be in the crowd though,” he reaches over to slide your phone out of your hand, blinking at you once for permission. He rewinds the video slightly so he can analyse it again, always on the lookout for how he can improve his idol impression.

“And what if you see me? Can you pretend that you don’t know me?” you tease, opening your palm to ask for your phone back. “I’m not an idiot, I’m not about to profess my undying love at the sight of you,” Chris rolls his eyes as he places your phone back in your hand, and you switch it off, “although that is tempting to do,” he finishes with a wink.

You huff and slump further into your chair, turning away from him so you can watch the houses and cars whip past you outside the train window. “On second thought, Stays might correctly interpret the happiness in my eyes as me being in love with someone in the crowd, which is absolutely correct – so yeah, maybe JYP is right.”

You turn back to him with every intention to prove that his eyes can’t possibly be overanalysed by Stays like that, but your words die in your throat when you lock eyes. He’s right. Stays would easily be able to tell. Even with his mouth obscured, and majority of his head covered with a beanie and hoodie, the radiant joy emanating from his eyes is enough to melt your heart. The corners of his eyes are crinkled slightly, but his eyes are still wide with rapt attention. You tilt your head and scan his irises closely.

It's not often in real life that you would use the term ‘sparkling’ to describe someone’s eyes; maybe if you’re writing sure, which is rare enough as is. You couldn’t think of anything else to describe the way he’s looking at you though, so with a sigh you settle for that mental description and decide to change the topic. “Where are we going?” you ask him, glancing up at the map listing the train destinations above the opposite window.

“Somewhere fun,” he simply replies. You raise an eyebrow at him, but decide to give it up for a while. You’d been asking him the same question at random intervals, hoping to surprise the answer out of him, but he hasn’t said anything truly useful. The pair of you lapse into a comfortable silence, and after a while your gaze goes unfocused, lost in your own thoughts. Chris’ hand sneakily slips into yours, and he places it neatly on his thigh, carefully stroking your knuckles. This shakes you out of your reverie, and you glance at your linked hands, a small smile gracing your features. This would have been completely cute if you hadn’t looked up at Chris’ face, his eyes frosty, staring at someone on the opposite chairs to you two.

The poor man opposite was now awkwardly looking away, a blush spreading from his neck upwards. “What’d he do to you? What’s with the glare?” you ask, slowly piecing together the reasoning for Chris’ actions, but wanting to hear it from the man himself.

“He was staring at you,” Chris grumbles, letting his head drop onto your shoulder, his hand still gripping yours. “Okay… well while he was doing that, I was busy thinking about how soft your lips are. There’s no need to be possessive,” you chide, trying to prove a point. Chris laughs and unlinks your hands, instead stretching his arm out around your shoulders protectively.

“My lips? So randomly? You can’t even see them right now.” You grin cheekily and tilt his head towards yours, then press a little kiss to his mask, “I don’t need to see them to think of them.” Chris’ eyes go wide, his thoughts frazzled, scanning the features of your smiley expression. Without even thinking, he pulls his mask down briefly to properly give you a quick kiss, then pulls his mask up and sits back in his chair like nothing had happened.

“Chris,” you hiss, “Don’t do that again. What if someone recognises you?” He gives you the side eye, contemplating, but then shrugs and dismisses the topic. You sigh and lean into his embrace, worried that his antics will lead to your photos plastered on the internet. Catching the train was risky enough, but your car was currently being serviced. Even though a little day spent hanging out in your apartment together would have sufficed, Chris was insistent on taking you out and about.

You only agreed because you figured he didn’t deserve to be cooped up on one of the few days he could mentally and physically rest.

Once you got off the train, Chris immediately linked your hand with his and pulled you through the crowd, his head bent low to try and hide his face better. Being out in the public with him like this always made you nervous, and you could tell Chris was aware of it by how he was rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. Generally, when you went on dates, you’d stalk out café’s that weren’t busy, or seek beaches with no crowd. It had become a recent hobby of yours, scouring the internet or roaming around town for cute little nooks and crannies you could safely spend time with him at.

This time however, Chris wouldn’t tell you where you were going, and apart from his vague disguise and minute efforts to keep his head low, everything was at risk. A part of you had a gut feeling that he simply didn’t care anymore. You walked side by side in silence, squinting in the bright sunlight. Carefully, you tried to arrange your hand in his, worried that it was getting too sweaty. Chris glanced at you, shook his head with a slight chuckle, and offered his arm for you to link with instead.

“You going to tell me where we’re going yet?” you urge, constantly eyeing the people walking past to make sure they don’t recognise him. “Not until you relax,” he hums, watching your anxious expression. “You aren’t going to tell me even if I do relax,” you huff, heart stilling at the gaze of a young girl’s eyes lingering on Chris for a little too long.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, I found something for us to do where no one will be able to see my face,” he directs the pair of you around a corner as you stare at him questioningly. Wasn’t that always the idea? “It’ll be dark,” he continues, coming to a halt right in front of a place you don’t recognise. In fact, you haven’t recognised the location for a while now, which has only added to your concerns. You sigh in disbelief as you read the sign above your head.

“Laser tag?” you croak, slowly turning to look at Chris with every ounce of judgement you can muster. Your heart cracks a little at the sight of his eyes dulling, the life dying within them at your apparent disappointment. “Yeah…?” You chuckle and slip your arm out of his to grab his wrist. Then without pause, roughly tug him inside the building, “Alright babe but don’t expect my sympathy when you lose!”

Chris’ relief is evident in his laugh, and you hate yourself for a second there, for ever making him doubt himself in the first place. “You forget who I am,” he teases, “There’s no way I’m going to lose.”

He was right. It is dark. Even though there are coloured lights flickering around and the diminished haze of a few button lights on the walls, your vision is limited. In fact, you reckon the LEDs flashing around obnoxiously like you’re in a disco party are meant to confuse and make things more difficult, not actually help you. Your teams had been randomised, and you have to say, your teamwork was shoddy at best. Your side of the game kind of just treated it as an ‘every person for themselves’ kind of situation.

Originally, the staff had asked whether the group wanted their teams randomised or selected themselves. Randomised won majority (much to your chagrin), and Chris had been placed on your team. Upon seeing the way Chris was standing behind you, his arms wrapped in a hug around your waist, chin on your head, one of the staff members swapped him with someone in the other team with a devilish grin. Thanks, now the game was truly on.

It's been maybe 10 minutes, and you haven’t seen Chris anywhere. You’ve scored a few good shots on his team though, peeking out of window holes and ducking from one blockade to the next. You had a feeling Chris had commandeered his team, naturally slipping into a leadership role. They seemed to hunt and shoot in a coordinated effort, often ambushing and sneaking up from all sides. Something felt off about them however, they seemed restrained, pulling away frequently when there was still plenty of opportunity. Sometimes you noticed, they seemed to get bored of shooting a member of your team.

Chris had removed his beanie as he walked into the arena, carefully tucking it into his belt for safekeeping, and the last thing you saw of him was the fuzzy curls of his hair. He’d assured you he’d keep his mask on, and now that you think about it, you were quite positive this had only contributed to his team easily following his orders. What kind of person wouldn’t follow the directions of a mysterious, good-looking man who spoke with an eased authority?

You winced as your suit lights flashed after a laser gun sound effect played from over by your right. Someone had found you. You leapt through the window above you and disappeared on the other side of the wall, taking shelter for a second. When the sound died, you took the opportunity to push yourself up and scamper away, looking for a better spot to recuperate and maybe counterattack.

“Chris!” you froze at the calling, trying to listen again over the sound of guns firing and the music playing in the background, “Oi! Chris! She’s over here!”

Oh shit.

You took off at a sprint, heart thumping wildly in your chest, gun abandoned at your waist. You ducked around a wall, leapt over another, and found yourself standing, breathing heavily, backed into a carefully chosen corner. There were no windows on either side of you, and the wall was far too high for anyone to jump over. You admit, it wasn’t the best choice in regard to an escape route, you were literally cornered. However, you could never outrun Chris, so you figured the best option was to bunker down and hide for a while.

Suddenly, all firing completely ceased. You weren’t sure what your teammates were doing, or what Chris’ team was doing for this matter. You didn’t know this of course, but Chris had managed to parkour his way to the top of the wall you were currently cowering behind. His teammates were watching eagerly from below, on the other side of the wall, trying to stifle their chuckles. No wonder all the shooting had stopped. How was your team supposed to shoot the opposite team if they were all stalking you?

Chris watched you for a second, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, then swivelled around from his perched position to offer his team a salute. In a fluid motion, he jumped off the wall backwards, landing right in front of you. Your scream made his team collapse into raucous laughter, and for a second there, they could have been Chris’ Kids.

“Jesus fuck how did you even-” you’re cut off by Chris pulling down his mask, trapping you up against the wall, and kissing you softly. He backs away after a second, whispering, “You’ve lost this one babe,” and with an infuriating raise of his hand, shoots you, your lights going off again in the location where most points are gained.

Before you can even process, let alone say anything in response, Chris disappears behind the wall to return to his team, and you can hear him yell, “Mission accomplished guys, the floor is all yours, thanks for your help.” “Our pleasure!” “Too easy.” “All good bro.”

You beeline along the path ahead of you, rocketing away from Chris’ team members that have dashed around the wall, eager to attack. You almost collide with one of your own team members, who sees the flock of people chasing you and runs alongside you.

“WHY ARE THEY ALL CHASING YOU?!” she yells, ducking around a corner to try and get some shots in. “My devil of a boyfriend,” you spit, joining her and helping to make the group scatter.

You were right. They were holding back earlier. If there was any hope that your team was out on top, that was most certainly not the case by the end. Even with you trying to organise your team once you eventually found each other, Chris’ yelled commands and his team’s speed, stealth and ferocity was unmatched. His encouragement and cheers of celebration could be heard literally everywhere you went, and his team caught on. Their motivational yells and cheers worked wonders on boosting their team.

By the time the siren blasted over the speakers, and the white lights flashed on, immediately blinding, you were a sweaty, huffing mess. You meandered your way over to the exit, following the stream of people jostling each other to snag some cold water first. Chris bounded up to you out of nowhere, slinging an arm around your shoulders and unnecessarily leaning on you. You almost buckle under his weight, exhausted to the core.

“How was that, hey?” he laughs, shaking you slightly in his adrenalin-rushed state. You simply groan in response and amble your way over to the scoring board on the TV. He already has his beanie back on his head, although a few of his curls are sticking out haphazardly.

Naturally, Chris’ team hurtles towards the pair of you, having already discovered that they won. Chris remains attached to you but offers a round of enthused high fives, congratulating them and praising their teamwork.

“You should join an official team,” someone grinned at him, to which Chris only laughed in response, shaking his head. “I don’t live around here, I’m only here to visit my girl,” Chris tugs you closer, and you smile sheepishly, hesitant to interact when Chris is potentially seconds away from being discovered.

“Surely your number then. Hit me up when you’re here and we can play another game?” he asks, tilting his head imploringly. Chris’ eyes widen and you tense at the question, unsure about how he’s going to handle this.

“I can’t do that, I’m sorry,” he replies simply, trying to convey his sincerity through his eyes. A girl from Chris’ team wanders over, casually eyeing Chris from head to toe now that they were out in visibility again, “What about me? Up for trades?” she asks, her eyes wide and innocent.

Chris shakes his head again, and you tug his hoodie in a warning. It was time you wrapped this up and left. “What are you a celebrity or something? Why are you hiding your face?” the girl asked, squinting at Chris, as though trying to see underneath his mask.

“What if I was?” Chris nonchalantly replies, and at this you take a fistful of his hoodie and make to drag him away, mind spinning, heart stuck somewhere in your throat. “I’d try harder for your number!” she states, eyes boring into your own.

“Not a chance, I’m very much taken,” Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, burying your terrified face into his chest. You wrap your arms tightly around him, worried about the words that are going to tumble out of his mouth. “I’m not allowed to give my number out to anyone, company rules,” he murmurs, and at this you crane your neck to stare at him. (A/N: I do not know if this is actually true, just pretend it is T-T.)

Two things he said there were horribly wrong. One, he basically just admitted that he was in fact a celebrity, two… “You gave me your number though,” you point out, frowning. He glances down at you and pulls your head back into a hug. “I broke the rules for you.”

Immediately, you stop breathing at his words, cheeks blossoming a lovely shade of pink, and you mumble into his chest, “Is that why… you fought with…” “How’d you find out about that?” he interjects sharply. It seems you two have almost completely forgotten about the other two people standing in silence, watching you.

“Suhee… Suhee told me…” you answer after a moment’s hesitation. Chris only sighs and brings a hand up to caress the side of your face, “Everything’s fine now though yeah? Don’t even think about it.”

“So… is Chris even your real name?” the bloke asks, startling the pair of you out of your bubble. “Of course not,” Chris replies, then with a slight tip of his head as a goodbye, he grabs your hand and walks you out of the building. Not before you manage to hear the man and woman talking to each other, “Google him.” “How? We don’t even have his name.” “Take a picture quickly.” “’Ness that’s not right. We’re not going to do that.”

You silently thank the man, and mentally spit on ‘Ness, but speed up your pace regardless, hoping to get out of sight and out of mind.

You’re back on the train again, headed closer to home where you can stake out your favourite restaurant for a bite out to eat. It’s your favourite mostly because of the semi-private booths they provide, and if Chris sits up against the wall, he’s hidden relatively well. Chris heaves a deep sigh and wriggles out of your snuggle, whining about being hot and stripping himself of his hoodie.

“I’m sweating more than I did in laser tag,” he complains, folding it neatly and placing it on his lap, then snuggling back up to you. Carefully, you ease the hoodie out of his lap with a cheeky grin on your face, aware of Chris’ eyes watching your every movement.

“I’ll hold it for you,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when he rolls his eyes knowingly, “You’ll hold it, or you’ll permanently borrow it?” You hug it tightly, playing with the fabric between your fingers, then bring it up to your face to inhale its scent.

You’d never have been able to guess his perfume’s ingredients if he hadn’t read it out to you one day to satisfy your curiosity: notes of spicy pink pepper and creamy ylang-ylang (that’s a tropical tree originating from the Philippines btw), combined with fierce musk and a sensuous vanilla base. That scent alone is enough to make your heart swell, a sense of safety and security washing over you with each breath.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chris puzzles, “Why are you smelling my hoodie like it’s cocaine?” You pull your nose away from his hoodie to calmly respond, “Because this is my cocaine you dumb twat.”

Chris laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, looking up at you through his eyelashes, “I know mate, I just wanted to hear you say it.” “That your scent is my cocaine?” you grimace, neatly placing the hoodie onto your lap. “Okay well not that specifically,” he pouts, “just that my scent drives you insane.”

“You are a strange man,” you tut, resting your head on top of his, wishing more than anything in the world at that moment that you could remove his beanie so you could feel his soft curls. “You seem to like this strange man, so I think you’re stranger.”

Finally, you’re sitting opposite Chris, slurping happily away on your cookies and cream smoothie while Chris takes generous sips from his pineapple juice. You’re sitting in your favourite spot waiting patiently for your food to arrive. Chris locks his phone and places it face down on the table, turning his attention to you with crinkled eyes. He’s wearing his hoodie again, much to your disappointment, so he can use his hood to hide behind instead of his beanie, giving his hair some room to breathe. Your eyes roam the curls, savouring the peaceful silence as you stare at each other.

Eventually, Chris begins to chat away, and you reciprocate his enthusiasm, laughing and giggling at the stories he tells you about Skz, adding your own input when his words remind you of something, and even as you eat, you continue to rally stories and questions back and forth at each other. “Bailey’s coming in for day care tomorrow.” “Is he? The one that looks like Berry?!” “Mhm!” “Can he stay with me upstairs?” “Uhm… I don’t see why not…”

You glance down at your plate and realise there’s only one mouthful left and blink in surprise. Chris had finished his meal a couple of minutes ago and was leaning back into the booth leisurely. You shovel it into your mouth and scoot out of your seat to pay for the food before he can, but he leans over and snatches at your arm, frowning at you.

“We’ve talked about this a million times before jagiya,” he clarifies, his eyes narrowed, “you’re not allowed to pay.”

You raise your eyebrows at him and yank your arm out of his grip, “Then you should have beaten me to it.”

You scamper away swiftly as Chris lunges for you again, sending a jolt through your heart as he scrambles up to chase you. “Yah! Dol-awa!” (Come back here!) he yells, but you don’t really need to. He’s already hooked an arm around your waist and trapped you between his arms, your wriggling and laughter doing nothing against his strong grip.

“Okay okay okay. I won’t pay. You can let me go,” you fuss, scrabbling at his hands, but he sighs and hugs you tighter. “Never. Will never let you go,” he mumbles, kissing the back of your head affectionately.

You’re not aware of this, but his hood has fallen down in his scramble to stop you, and without his mask since he was eating, he’s completely and utterly exposed. The lady at the counter looks up to sus out what the commotion is about, and her eyes immediately widen at the sight of Chris’ head perched lovingly on top of yours.

“Bang Chan?” she gasps, the delirious excitement evident in her awestruck expression. Your heart plummets into the ground as Chris stiffens around you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, please can we take a picture together?” she hurries around the desk, swiftly pulling her phone out, and Chris instinctively drags you protectively behind him, hiding your face.

“Ah- ah no. No sorry, no photos today,” he rushes, arranging his hood that you’ve haphazardly tugged onto his head again. The lady pauses and seems to remember you’re there, her phone dropping to her side. She points at you with a curious tilt of her head, “Is she…?”

You cringe and step away from Chris, walking with your hair curtaining your face back towards your restaurant booth. You’re dimly aware of the rest of the restaurant guests peeking over the top of their booths and leaning over to get a better view. “Is there someone famous here?” “Who’s she asking for a photo?” “Bang Chan, she said Bang Chan.” “BANG CHAN?!” “Who’s he with?” “Who’s she? His girlfriend?” “No way is Bang Chan dating someone.” “Eva’s going to be so mad.” “I wonder how Stays are going to handle this.” “Come on, we have to get a photo.”

Chris swivels around and follows you back to the booth, smiling sheepishly and pulling his hood even further over his head. “Babe let’s go,” he whispers, but the neighbouring table hears his muted words, and the whole restaurant is chattering again. “They’re dating. He called her babe.” “Did you get a good look at her? Is she even pretty?” “She’s kind of average.”

Chris flinches, his eyes downcast as he realises his mistake, but you offer him a small smile of encouragement and gather your things. Chris thinks for a second, his hands fiddling, then pulls his hoodie off himself and yanks it over your head. He whisks his beanie off the table, tugs it onto your head and hands you his mask from his pocket. You blink at him, but put it on regardless, finishing off the disguise by pulling the hood up over your head. He seems to care more about your coverage than his own. “There’s no way they aren’t dating.” “I think he settled.” “What does she have that I don’t?”

You can see Chris’ jaw clench, the offhand comments beginning to annoy him, so you shake your head at him and nod towards the exit. He grabs your hand, making your heart thump wildly in fear – he’s really not doing anything to help ease the rumours. “Chan who is she?” “Do you even like her?” Chris pauses, and you try to tug him onwards, pleadingly.

“She’s the love of my life and that’s that,” he snaps, the break from his usual polite stature towards fans causing the restaurant to fall silent. You gulp and hiss at him, his name falling from your mouth in a panicked urgency. Half of the people in here probably didn’t even know who he was; just crazed at the experience of being in the proximity of a celebrity.

“He’s not even that good-looking, you sure he’s famous?” you hear someone whisper, and your head turns towards the voice, an unknown flame sparking, “He’s probably only famous because his father’s rich or something. That’s how it is these days, isn’t it?” they continue, and you stalk over to them, causing Chris to stare at you in surprise, too busy glaring at the restaurant guests to hear the comments about himself.

You slam your palm onto their table, causing the two girls to jump in surprise. “You say anything else about him and I will skewer you,” you lean over and snatch her fork from her plate, “with your own fucking fork.” “Bold words from a girl cowering in her boyfriend’s clothes,” the other girl smirks, folding her arms challengingly.

“At least I have a boyfriend,” you seethe, hand clenching around the fork. “Nice try bitch, I have one too.” “Not after my famous boyfriend with a rich father sends an assassin after him.”

Her eyes widen at that, and you lazily throw the fork back onto the table. “His name’s Bang Chan, as I’m sure you’ve heard, why don’t you google him on the phone you’ve been taking pictures of us with-”

Chris swoops in out of nowhere before you can finish your sentence, grabbing you by the waist again to lead you away. When you try to free yourself, blood boiling and not finished with your fight, he bends down and hoists you over his shoulders, walking you out of the restaurant while you yell in fury. After a while, he puts you back down, commands you to stay put while he returns to pay for the meal, and you begin to regret your actions. Chris seemed eerily nonchalant, and you knew you crossed a line by confronting those two girls. You probably made things more difficult actually, and you cringed as you pictured the next headline.

‘K-pop idol Bang Chan of Stray Kids allegedly dating a psychotic woman who threatened restaurant guests”

You’re so busy letting your thoughts eat away at your mind that you don’t even realise Chris is standing in front of you again. “C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs, his hands tucked into his shorts pockets. “I messed up didn’t I?” you mumble, not daring to look him in the eye.

“I did too. It’s okay. I’ll sort it out with JYP later,” his eyes briefly skim over the sign above your head, and he disappears inside the store he left you in front of. After a minute, he returns with a packet of skittles for you. “Just forget about it for now okay? I’ll figure it out when I get back to Korea. And who knows… maybe everyone in there has a conscience and won’t even consider posting anything.” You snort and tear open the packet of skittles, craving the sour lollies all of a sudden, “That’s being overly optimistic.”

Chris laughs and begins to follow the route back to your café, you trailing behind him sadly, shoving skittles in your mouth with the mask pulled down to your chin. You frown at Chris’ back and the realisation hits you. He’s likely going to fight with JYP again. He’s likely going to be given a choice between you or his career. You can tell from his deflated posture as he walks ahead of you that he’s thinking the same thing.

You can feel that dreadful sting in the corners of your eyes intensifying, and reflexively, you close the distance between you two, snagging him in a back hug. You deliriously rub your face into his shirt, trying to stop yourself from crying, and he arches his back in response with a little gasp, “That tickles.”

“I’m sorry Chris. I’m so so sorry.” “None of this is your fault. I wasn’t careful enough.” “You’re always careful. I saw that the restaurant was kind of full today, I shouldn’t have suggested it. I’m the one who’s not careful” “That’s enough. I said forget it.” Chris squirms around and pulls you into a proper hug, sighing into the top of your head, “Don’t you worry… about a thing… it’s going to be okay, yeah?” he inflects the statement into a question, and you think he’s trying to reassure himself more than you.

You won’t let him choose. You’re not going to let him pick between his career or you. That’s not happening. He shouldn’t have to do that. You clench your teeth and bite back the tears, willing them to stay trapped in your eyes. You’ve made your decision. You pull away from him, eyes glistening with an unmatched determination.

Chris’ face darkens at the sight, and he cups your face in his hands desperately, reading every single line of your set expression correctly. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you now – do not, under any fucking circumstance, think it.”

You remain silent, drowning yourself in his desperate eyes, lips frozen in a thin line. “Y/N no. Don’t.” “Want some skittles, Chris?” you nonchalantly ask, tearing your eyes away from him to stare into the contents of the bag still in your hands.

“No. No I don’t want skittles. I need you to fucking understand-” “I understand,” you interject, eyes flickering back up to him, but you figure your emotions aren’t controlled enough, and you can see the panic rise in his beautiful irises. “No you fucking don’t. I can see you fucking don’t. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll sort it out, I promise,” he insists, clutching your face just that little bit tighter. “I know you will. Now do you want some skittles or not?”

Chris glares at you, then pulls you into another rough hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. You wish he wouldn’t. He’s making it so much harder for you to keep back the dam of tears threatening to overflow. “This- this here, in my arms right now, is my entire world. I’m not going to let anyone take that from me,” he whispers, and your heart crumbles to pieces.

Would he let you take it from him?

“Please eat some skittles. Sugar makes you feel better. Just don’t eat all of them okay?” you mumble into his shirt, and he pulls away, bitterly laughing, “Alright, give me those damn skittles.” You pass them over to him, smiling brightly. When he grins back at you, it’s like everything has fallen back into place, none of that just happened, it’s just the two of you again, the world fading into blurry insignificance around you.

You’ll miss him.

For now though, you’re going to spend as much time with him as possible. You’re contemplating the situation as you sit on your bed, Chris calling out to you from the other side of the bedroom door. “Quit being mean~ let me in.” (A/N: What happened to "spending as much time with him as possible, hm?)

You’ve been checking the internet consistently, anxiously waiting for the news of your relationship with him to be leaked. Nothing was up so far. If something does happen, then Chris will naturally fly back to Korea as originally scheduled in a few days and immediately try to sort things out with JYP. It might work out well, it might not. You know however, that if he’s ever forced to pick between his career and you, you’re not going to let him choose you. “Jagiyaaaa… baby I miss you… let me in please?”

You sigh and flop back onto your bed just as your phone pings with a notification. Your heart stops – this is it… dispatch have found out surely. The relief that floods through your veins resolves into amusement when you realise the notifications are from Chris. He’s spamming you.

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

Chris: “baby I’m sorry” Chris: “please let me in baby” Chris: “muffin?” Chris: “sweet pea?” Chris: “the love of my life” Chris: “beautiful cinnamon roll who’s too pure for this world”

You grin at the new endearments emerging, feeling your insides go all soft and squishy at his antics. After a moment of thought, you message him back.

You: “Sorry doesn’t bring back my fucking skittles Christopher”

You pad over to the door as Chris yells in frustration, “I didn’t mean to. You offered them to me, and you were right. Sugar does make you feel better.” As soon as you unlock the door and swing it open, Chris’ face lights up with joy. He tackles you with a hug that makes you stumble back in surprise, and you desperately fight back your grin, opting for an annoyed expression. “Don’t lock me out again like that please. You need to be by my side at all times. 24/7. That was torture.”

You snort and carefully push him off you, wandering back to the bed, “We’re literally in a long-distance relationship, how am I supposed to be with you 24/7?” Chris waddles over to you, but you frown at him and point to the floor, “Nah-uh. You sit on the floor, I’m still mad at you.” He whines and pouts at you, his eyes as wide as saucers.

You know you’ll cave if he starts acting cute with you, so you pick up your phone and busy yourself with social media. Chris plonks himself down on the floor with a sigh, his legs splayed out wide in a V-shape, “I’ll buy you more skittles.” “I wanted those ones. They were special.”

“Since when? I’ll buy you as many special skittles as you want,” he huffs, folding his arms. Over the next few minutes, you do your best to ignore his whines of distress and needy sighs, his pet names and sugary chatter. You’ve been watching him out of the corner of your eye and decide to ignore the fact that he’s somehow moved a metre forward from where he originally was.

You yawn and stretch, putting your phone down to look at him properly for the first time in a while. Immediately, he stretches his arms wide and grasps rapidly at the air in front of him, asking quietly for cuddles, his legs bouncing in sync. Best leader. Five-year-old. Kangaroo. Mashed potato. You shake your head at him and give in, his adorable antics filling your heart too much. You crawl off the bed and settle into his outstretched arms, nestling your face into his neck. You place a delicate kiss there, and mumble against his skin, “If you ever, ever eat all my skittles again when I tell you not to, I will end you.”

Chris laughs and wraps his arms and legs securely around you. “You can end me whenever you want love. Just as long as it’s you doing it.” You pinch him lightly with an amused laugh, “You’re such a cheesy ass.” “Only for you~” he laughs, the vibrations from his throat rippling through you.

“Shut the fuck up, when are you going to stop saying that!” you yell, sitting up properly in his arms and trying to escape from his grip. “I’ll stop when I stop loving you. Which is never,” his grin could almost be described as sadistic as he tightens his grip on you, proving his point.

“Jesus Christ, oh my god you’re atrocious,” you grin, hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Awh is my girl shy? There’s no need to hide baby, you’re adorable when you’re shy.” “Shut.” “Come on… there’s no need to hide your beautiful face,” he teases, pulling at your fingers to try and remove them.

“I said shut-” your words resolve into giggles as he begins to tickle you, your muscles tensing at his actions, “Chris- okay stop- no- hey! Stop-,” you plead, rolling around on the floor desperately. Chris places his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you, giving you time to breathe.

He shifts his weight to one of his arms and affectionately brushes your hair out of your face, “I meant what I said, yeah? I’m never going to stop loving you.” You smile and pull him down on top of you, whispering heartfelt sweet nothings into his hair.

You don’t think you ever will either. Which hurts.

It’s later on in the night and you’re typing away on your laptop, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sorting through a few financial reports and business requirements to finish up the night. Chris is also busy working, sitting by the TV with his back to the wall, his laptop charging.

“Are you sure you’re comfy down there?” you ask him swiftly, eyes refusing to leave your computer screen even when he glances up at you. “With the amount of blankets and pillows you’ve thrown at me to use, you’d think I’d be comfy enough,” he grins, shuffling around a little and arranging the pillow at his back.

“I just don’t think you should be sitting on the floor,” you roll your eyes, pausing briefly to stretch your fingers. “You made me sit on the floor before,” he teases, clicking his touch pad in quick succession.

“That’s different,” you grumble, arching your back and trying to fix your posture, “although I have to say, sometimes I think the floor is comfier,” you finish up the sentence you’re typing out, uncross your legs, and move to sit on the floor, your back resting comfortably up on the couch.

The minutes pass as you fall into silence again, the atmosphere humming with a productive energy. You were antsy earlier, fidgety, still waiting for an article, or a social media post, or anything that would begin the drastic snowball of catastrophic events. Instead of worrying Chris, you chose to occupy your mind with work. Chris picked up on your productive mood and sat down to work too, and it had been a little over 2 hours since then.

Neither of you moved from your positions, except to stretch and grab a glass of water or snack for one another. You had basically forgotten about the whole fiasco, so absorbed in your own work, that when a notification from a newsagent you’re subscribed to pops up on your screen, your heart initially leaps in excitement; your body already used to reacting this way in the hopes that it’s something to do with Stray Kids. Your mind clicks back into reality, and you stop breathing as you click on it with your mouse.

“Bang Chan of K-Pop group ‘Stray Kids’ rumoured to be dating”

The bold title leaps at you, and your eyes seem to be glued to it, rereading it over and over again. Eventually, you remember you need to breathe, and exhale as you scroll down the page. You lick your lips nervously as you skim the article and briefly assess the photos complimenting it. Overall, the both of you had done an exemplary job at keeping your face hidden. None of the photos showed more than your hair and eyes. It was so blatantly obvious that it was Chris in the photos though, which would make it hard to refute the idea that he was dating at all.

He so… clearly was. Although taken out of context, and in the incorrect sequence of events, every single picture that had Chris’ expression in it displayed genuine worry, or a fondness that couldn’t be mistaken. Fuck. You glance up at Chris, wondering if he’d seen the article yet, but he appears to be engrossed in his work, his headphones snug around his ears, biting his bottom lip in concentration.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shuddering breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the following days, heck, the following weeks. Maybe even months. And now, the inexplicable urge to have Chris next to you overwhelms you. You might lose him soon, and you’re busy working away? He’s right there. Metres away, and he’s not snuggling with you? How pathetic.

“You’re too far away,” you grumble, staring pointedly at him and crossing your arms. Chris glances up and pulls his headphones off, “Sorry?” “Why’re you so farrrr?” you pout, mimicking the same grabby motions he had used earlier. You stare sadly in his silence, watching the corner of his mouth twitch, “The outlet is here, and you made it so comfy.”

Internally, you curse your kindness and sniff in disappointment, turning back to your work, “Fine then, be that way.” “Don’t be so dramatic,” Chris scoffs, putting his headphones back over his ears, but his grin has finally broken through.

Just as you knew he would, after a few more minutes of silence, but little work, Chris unplugs his computer and saunters over to you, plopping down next to you with a quiet grunt. You give him a little smirk, and a classic side eye, then go back to pretending to be completely absorbed in your report.

“Shut up,” he sighs, snuggling closer so your shoulders are touching. “I didn’t say anything,” you grin, cherishing his warmth, his presence. Now your productive mood has evaporated, the event you were trying to distract yourself from having already occurred.

You put in your best effort to write another paragraph but give up halfway through and end up staring blankly at the screen, mind trying to think over how best you convince Chris to let you go. A thought crosses your mind, and you consider it wholeheartedly, directing your brain power into imagining the past two years without Chris in your life.

What if you had never accepted his request to film Skz-Code in your café? What if you had ghosted him when he messaged you? What if you hadn’t noticed him, standing on that bridge? What if you were too occupied with James? What if… no… he’d be dead.

The thought remains in the forefront of your mind, and without your knowledge, tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Somehow, a part of you knew that you were meant to see him then. You couldn’t explain that searing pain or voice in your head, and you weren’t about to try and figure it out now. Chris has been watching you for a while now, his head turned slightly, eyes flickering from your stock-still hands to the misery in your expression.

He reaches across and gently wipes one of your tears away, making you flinch in surprise. Truthfully, he was quite comfy where he was by the outlet. He wasn’t planning on moving to sit next to you, knowing full well that he’d lose all sense of productivity by snuggling up to you. That all changed when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message in the group chat consisting of only Stray Kids. Hyunjin had sent the article, and he didn’t need to click on it to know what it was about.

Hyunjin: “Chan? You know about this right?” Chris: “yeah”

Hyunjin: “what’re you going to do?”

Felix: “is Y/N okay?” Felix: “you haven’t broken up yet have you?”

His heart throbbed at the thought, and he swiftly typed out a response, trying to quell the onslaught of questions and comments of concern from them all.

Chris: “I’ll sort it out” Chris: “I’m not breaking up with her”

It clicked in his head then, why you were complaining about him being so far away, when you’d been working like this for the past 2 and a half hours perfectly fine.

“I told you to not think about that under any circumstance,” he whispers, watching as you hastily wipe your tears away. His mind is already working overtime, conjuring a risky plan. “I’m not- I wasn’t… I- did you see the article?” you murmur, trying to organise your thoughts.

“Mhm… and I’m about to do something about it,” he takes a deep breath in, closes up his production software and opens up YouTube, “You trust me, yeah?”

Your eyes widen as he begins to set up a live, and you grab his arm to stop him, “Chris you can’t. What will JYP say?” “I don’t give a damn about what he’ll say,” he scoffs, briefly checking what episode number of Chan’s Room he’s up to. It’s only Saturday, but you figure it doesn’t matter now. (A/N: Sit with it. I know Chan's Room is on hiatus shush, no need to remind me.)

“You better give a damn Christopher because your entire career is on the line right now,” you snap back, and a fizzle of fear simmers through you as Chris’ eyes flutter closed and his jaw clenches. “Do you… trust me…?” he asks again, opening his eyes to stare at you, unblinking. You gulp and slowly nod. “Pull up ‘Insomnia’ for me then babe.”

You have such a bad feeling about this.

You’re sitting in complete silence, trying to read the spam of comments on the side of his screen as Chris chats away happily, using his phone to play song requests and make recommendations of his own. The article was only recently released, but you can’t be sure of where else the photos have been leaked.

You’re about 20 minutes in when you spot the first comment asking about the photos. Chris either doesn’t see it, or intentionally ignores it, and continues asking for more song requests. 30 minutes in and the entire chat is swamped with questions about the same topic. You.

So far, Chris hasn’t spared you a glance once, knowing full well that his fans would ask about who he was looking at. This time however, he turns towards you, asking you a silent question, having finally reached the point of no return, his whole reasoning for starting the live finally occurring. You gulp and quietly nod again, leaning back to grab a pillow from the couch and tuck it protectively in front of you. Chris glances briefly back to the comments, searching for one he can work with.

“Ah! Where am I?” he pipes, looking around the room as though trying to figure that out himself, “I am… on a brief vacation…” he pauses to read the comments again, engaging with the audience professionally.

“No no, not in a hotel- I mean… um…” he sighs and rubs his face, and suddenly you don’t know how you feel about how easy it is for him to act, “I’m… um… I’m actually at my girlfriend’s house?” he grins sheepishly, a squeaky laugh escaping. The chat explodes with a new wave of comments.

“Yeah so you all saw the photos right? I was um… a little sad to see them, because Stays have always been… you know, respectful. But yeah, I am dating her.” If the comments were projected in actual voices, your head would have combusted. There are so many, and majority of them are in capitals, and you’re struggling to comprehend even only a single one.

Chris, used to this, reads one out loud for the benefit of his viewers. “Is she with me? Yeah, well yeah, I am um… in her house,” he laughs, adjusting the computer a little on his lap, “You want to meet her? Ooh I don’t know, I think we’d have to ask her.”

He looks at you, his eyes wide, and you smile in encouragement, but internally you’re a panicked disaster. “Oh-kay, hang on guys,” Chris announces, sitting up so he can push his computer further away along the floor. When he returns to your side, you’re now visible in the screen, eyes paralysed with fear, half hiding behind a couch pillow.

Chris props his elbow up on the couch, resting his head on his hand, the other resting comfortably on your thigh, squeezing it in encouragement. You wave shyly at the camera, offer a small smile, and try to burrow yourself further into the pillow. “Jagi… it’s okay, you don’t have to read the comments, Stay just wants to meet you.”

You take a deep breath, briefly glance at Chris, who’s smiling comfortingly, and slowly lower the pillow. “Hi Stay. Do I need to tell them my name?” you inquisitively ask, and Chris shakes his head, “Only if you want to.”

You consider it, then decide not to, “Yeah. Hi. I am… Bang Chan’s girlfriend. I promise I’m looking after him, don’t worry.” Chris’ grin widens, and he reaches over to pull you into his arms. You wriggle to get comfortable, trying to think of what to say.

“Uh… like Chan said earlier, he is… at my house- how in the world do you do this every single week? I can’t think of anything to say,” you start, turning to look at Chris. He smiles and pecks your forehead, causing you to jerk back in surprise. “It takes a while to get the hang of it,” his eyes briefly flicker down to your lips, and you scramble out from his hold and onto the couch behind him.

“I think I need the comments to rebound off, but I also… don’t want to read them,” you stammer. Chris is grinning cheekily at the computer screen, and his hands reach up behind him, using the camera to locate you, and tugs your legs around his shoulders, so his head is now in between your knees.

“You see what I have to deal with Stay?” you chide, trying to extricate yourself from him, embarrassed at how intimate he’s being on live. “But I’ve never seen you this nervous before, it’s so cute,” he laughs. You grab the nearest couch cushion and whack him on the head with it, making him laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay. I’ll read the comments for you,” Chris gasps, crawling towards the computer to lay on his stomach. “How did we meet? Oi babe, do you wanna explain this?” he asks, twisting to look back at you slightly, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh um, I don’t know. You were at my café?” you shrug. “You make it sound so unromantic,” he grimaces, turning back to the computer screen. “Well it wasn’t really,” you frown, hopping off the couch to lie down beside him.

“Okay, I’ll tell them how we met then,” he grins, and you stare at him, wondering what kind of fabricated story he’s going to garble now. There’s no way he’s going to mention how he almost launched himself off a bridge and you stopped him. “She saw me outside her café and I looked a little lost, so she asked if I needed help and she was so respectful and nice, offered me a croissant and drink for the road, and I was down bad.”

You roll your eyes at him and place your chin in your hands to read some comments. Surprisingly, there were more positive comments than negative, although the negative ones still made your stomach churn. Perhaps that one edit was right, Stay’s wouldn’t care if the Skz-Members started dating, they’d just be happy the members were getting bitches at all.

For a while, the pair of you take turns rebounding stories of your relationship, switching positions to the couch, to the floor to standing up and stretching frequently. Chris occasionally transitions into Korean, catering for his target audience’s needs, but he still translates for you, chuckling about how he should speak it more often at home so you can learn some too.

You’re asked how well you know the Stray Kids members, and a whole bunch of other questions that you ignore. You do your best to ignore the negative comments too, but they’re starting to get to you a little, and at some point the negative comments definitely outweigh the positive.

Chris pauses in the middle of trying to explain the context for the photos taken today, his eyes caught on a particular comment. He pushes himself up and reaches for the computer, scrolling back through the chat to locate it. As soon as he finds it, his expression goes resolute, and a little gasp escapes your mouth.

Go kill yourself.

You know with your whole heart that it’s directed towards you, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it should. Instead, the phrase stirs memories in your mind, positive you’ve heard it before. And of course you have, in your mind, the first time you saw Chris. You turn to try and read his expression, but it’s gone blank, his eyes void of emotion. “Chan,” he doesn’t move at all, his eyes still locked on the comment, “Chris. Baby.”

You nudge him slightly, but it’s like his soul has completely left his body. He’s not even here anymore. “Jagi. Babe. Channie,” you wriggle closer to him and whisper in his ear, “Christopher.”

He inhales sharply and turns to you, eyes foggy with confusion. “Are you okay?” you quietly ask him, reaching over to rub his back comfortingly. “Are you? We can stop if you want,” he pushes himself up into a seated position and crawls over to lean back on the couch. You follow, snuggling up to him, a dawning realisation emerging from the depths of who knows where, “I’m fine.”

It should have been obvious. It should have been painfully obvious. That voice was him right. On that day. He had seen a comment just like this one in a live. And that’s what he was doing on that bridge. Chris falls silent for the rest of the live, and you try your best to talk your way through it, drawing the computer closer to you after a while so you don’t have to lean forward to read the comments.

You yawn and check the time via the clock on the wall. It’s almost 12am. You peek at Chris, trying to signify that he should probably end the live, but his eyes are drifting shut, and his breathing has grown heavy. “Yeah so… thank you Stays, for giving me the opportunity to meet you all.”

Chris’ head suddenly droops onto your shoulder, and you glance at him again, a small smile forming on your face, before you return to address the live.

“I hope… I hope you’ll all be supportive… of Chris and I… he means the world to me… and that might not mean much to you, because he definitely means the world to a lot of you as well,” you find yourself stroking the curls off his forehead, and in his semi-conscious state, he snuggles even closer, his lips forming words that are only just barely audible, “I love you.”

You turn back to the live, eyes wide in disbelief, wondering if he was loud enough for the live. Clearly he was, the chat has fallen apart again. You chuckle and kiss his head gently, “I love you too Chris.”

Later on, he wakes to a stiffness in his neck and back, his head still resting on your shoulder. He winces and sits up, eyeing your sleeping posture with your head resting up against the couch, his computer sitting in your lap.

“You should have woken me up…” he mumbles quietly, knowing full well that you could not hear a word, “I love you jagi… more than you know…” Chris sighs and shuffles over to you, sliding his laptop onto the floor. Carefully, he tucks a gentle hand around the back of your neck, supporting your head, the other in the crook of your knees. As quietly as he can, he hoists you up into his arms and steadily walks over to your bedroom.

He stumbles a bit as he tries to lay you down, and you stir slightly. Eventually, he manages to pull the covers over you, and he tucks you in neatly. You groan and mumble something incoherent, and he waits with bated breath, wondering if you’re going to wake up.

“I… could beat the shit out of you…” you murmur, and Chris allows himself a smile. He bends down and kisses you softly, his heart aching with all the words he wishes he could say, all the love he wishes he could give. “You absolutely could… and the insane thing is… I would let you…” he softly whispers, then leaves your side to turn off the lights around the apartment.

He scoops up your laptop and his, puts them both on charge in the office and then goes on the hunt for his phone. He finds it not too far away from where your laptops were abandoned, and as soon as he clicks the screen to check for notifications, his heart sinks into his stomach, settling uncomfortably there at the sight of the messages.

He chooses to open the group chat first, smiling slightly at their words of encouragement. They were watching the live earlier, and continuing to tease him even through messages, providing running commentary.

The latest messages, however, make him hate his career for a second. Only for a second.

Jeongin: “the managers are saying you need to come back” Jeongin: “now…” Jeongin: “I think they’ve booked a flight for you”

Chris sighs and opens up the message from one of his managers. Sure enough, there’s a passive-aggressive request for him to return to Korea, a flight ticket attached. He clicks it to check the time of departure, and seethes when he realises the flight is in 2 hours. Jeongin wasn’t kidding when he said ‘now’.

He takes a moment to compose himself, already trying to work through his argument in his head, and starts to gather his belongings, turning on the lights again. They’re strewn out everywhere; wallet on the bench, clothes folded on the couch, composing gear in the studio, paperwork in the office. He rubs his face vigorously in his hands as he tries to fit them all nicely into his suitcase and travel bags.

“Chris…?” you yawn, head peeking tiredly out of your room. His heart cracks as he looks up at your drowsy state, unsure about how he should tell you he had to leave. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry,” he sighs, standing up gingerly, his knees cracking, “try and go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up later.”

He gulps as you take in his gathered belongings, but your dazed expression doesn’t change. “You weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye were you?” you mumble, walking over with a stretch and hugging him with a squeeze. Chris’ breath catches in his throat, and he wraps his arms securely around you. If only he could freeze time.

“I’d never do that to you, I just didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighs, swaying the pair of you gently. “What time’s your flight?” you pull away from him with wide eyes, fully awake now. Chris’ jaw clenches, and he pulls out his phone to check the current time. “In one and a half hours.” “They couldn’t have given you more time?” you grimace, stepping away from him to pick up his possessions and start packing.

“Apparently not.” After a minute of watching your silent movements, he goes back to packing, heart simultaneously swelling and shattering. He knows you’re thrown off by his sudden departure, a few days earlier than scheduled. He can tell by the way you zone out frequently as you pass him his clothes. He can tell by the way you stare absently at his laptop. He can tell by your carefully controlled expression, displaying no sadness, but a forced strength.

Chris doesn’t have to take everything that belongs to him. He returns as often as he can, so by this point he has his own toiletries here, his own drawer of clothes, his favourite snacks and drinks in the kitchen. He just wishes he didn’t have to leave his favourite belonging. You.

After another 15 minutes, he’s fully packed and he’s sitting on the couch with you tucked safely in his arms, basking in your warmth, but a little terrified in the fragility of the silence. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You nod, knowing ‘as soon’ could mean anything from two weeks to six months. “Don’t worry about anything okay? I promise… everything will be okay. JYP can’t do anything to my career, he needs me – and I’m going to use that as leverage.”

You nod again, mind on a completely different train of thought. “I’m not going to lose you, I swear. I’m never going to let you go.” He takes his words quite literally this time.

He almost missed his flight.

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

-> PART 6　 -> Masterlist

A/N: Yay…? Milestone Event 5 Check…?

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

Until next read… - Kaisowoo

#bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan #christopher chan #christopher chan bang #stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #thiswasfunandpainfultowrite #stray kids x reader

62 notes · View notes

o-link · 4 days

Text

Colosseum at sunset

Christopher Chan

#Christopher Chan #Colosseum #sunset

28 notes · View notes

katnisspeetaprim · 1 year

Text

Please (Bang Chan/Reader)

I know this clip is old but I really couldn't help myself 😁

Warnings: gender neautral reader, embarrassment, kissing, Chan being a little rough, choking, no actual smut tho

Word Count: 725 M.list

Chan quietly unlocked the door to your apartment, though it was only 11pm he was unsure if you were still awake or not.

The darkness of the room welcomed him as he shut and locked the door. Technically on paper he still lived at the dorms, but in reality he had been staying at your apartment since the beginning of your relationship, craving the closeness of one another.

Toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket, he walked further into the apartment towards the bedroom. He noticed a string of light slithering under the door.

‘Babe?’ He called out to you as he pushed the door open. He looked around to find you sat on the bed in your pyjamas looking at something on your phone. You had to bite your lip to try and hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on your face. You looked up at him as he approached, smirk now fully showing as you sat up on your knees and shuffling over to the edge of the bed, circling your arms around his neck as you did so. Chan returned your embrace with a smile, arms resting around your waist.

‘What’s so funny?’ He questioned, not knowing what you were up to. It was then that you slowly leaned in, licking your lips before lightly whispering in his ear,

‘Please.’ There was not hesitation detected when you spoke, full of confidence. Chan on the other hand was a little confused at what you wanted.

‘I’m sorry?’ He asked, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at you. In turn, you only tightened your grip on him before repeating yourself.

‘You said to say please.’ You leaned back in so your lips were almost touching. He could feel your warm breath on his face. You couldn’t help but want to tease him after what he had said on his earlier live. You couldn’t believe the words that had come from your boyfriends mouth. He was basically asking for people to ‘beg for it’ in the politest way possible, and you were happy to oblige.

He mulled over your words for a few moments before letting out a groan in realization, dropping his head onto your shoulder.

‘Oh God that’s so embarrassing.’ His voice was muffled by your shirt, but you could hear the embarrassment plain as day.

‘You’re the one who said it.’ You joked once again, placing a small kiss to the side of his head. ‘I’m just doing as asked.’ Chan lifted his head up so he could look you in the eye, before leaning in and smashing his lips against yours. His hands roamed down your body until they found your ass and grabbing it harshly and pulling you flush against him, causing you to let out a surprised yelp.

‘Why don’t you ask me again princess?’ His voice was dark when he pulled away from the kiss, his personality changing in an instant.

‘Please pin me against the wall Chan.’ You breathed out, intending to see this idea through.

‘If you insist.’ He was now the one smirking. Without another word he roughly yanked you off the bed to a standing position, before taking both your hand in one of his large ones and holding them above your head. He shoved you backwards until your back crashed into the back wall, though he was careful as to not hurt you. Your arms were now pinned to the wall above your head, his other hand stroking up your body and over your chest before coming to clasp around your throat. You let out a strangled moan as his hand gave a tight squeeze round your throat, before relaxing and just letting it lay there.

He started to place wet kisses along your jaw line, moving around until he could gently nibble on your ear lobe.

‘Is this what you wanted princess?’ He taunted, knowing full well what the answer was. All you could do in response was nod your head vigorously, too excited about the activities to come to actually speak in that moment. The smirk never left his face as he leaned back in, this time to capture your lips in his in a heated kiss.

In the back of his mind, he was silently thanking whichever Stay had sent in that message. Thank you indeed.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #christopher chan #scenario #imagine #one shot #drabble #fluff #smut #angst #gender neutral

222 notes · View notes

stinkychibikko · 4 months

Text

Late night drawing of Chan and Felix. Aussie bros :'))

#my art #mine #angelsicecream #fanart #skz #stray kids #stray kids fanart #chan #felix #lee felix #lee yongbok #yongbok #bang chan #christopher bang #christopher chan

20 notes · View notes

dollystuartwrites · 6 months

Text

Stray Gods - Chapter 45

Pairing: Gods!OT8 x !F!Reader Genre: romance, friends to lovers, polyamory, mystery, supernatural, angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 2713 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20] [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] [31] - [32] - [33] - [34] - [35] - [36] - [37] - [38] - [39] - [40] [41] - [42] - [43] - [44] - [45] - [?] MASTERLIST Summary: With no memory of who you were, you wake up in the woods, only to be found by eight unusually handsome men. With no information of the past, the guys decide to take you in and take care of you for the time being. But that time becomes years, and as time passes, you start to notice that there is something different about them... and something different about you... Warnings: angst, praise, thigh riding, kissing, fingering, overstimulation, lovebites, bad/miscommunication, low self-esteem, swearing, name-calling, dry humping, college, degradation, gods, special powers, vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m), mentions of contraception (condoms&thepill), injuries, mentions of death (but no character deaths), virgin!reader, teasing, orgasms, poly relationship, semi-public sex, daddy kink, strength kink, grinding, I've probably forgotten some, so let me know if I did and I will add more as the story progresses. Taglist: @eastleighsblog @tangerminie @swittyregan @septicrebel @jiimout @zandra-42@julciaqwerty @vampcharxter @mercurezed @thatgirlangelb @cookiemonstermusic258 @stayconnecteed @bubblelixie Want to be added or did I miss you? Just send me an ASK or DM

Lots of love and many thanks to my beta’s from wattpad: rocker7898 and sydneye2411. You guys made my writing so much better <3

You yawned as you shuffled sleepily into the living room on Friday morning.

‘Morning cutie,’ Minho said, being the first to notice you. He came over to stroke your hair with his free hand. In his other hand, he was holding a pan with Pajeon in it, which he then brought over to the sleepy faces that were already sitting at the table. Chan’s eyes were barely open as you walked in. You guessed they had been closed until Minho had spoken to you. Hyunjin’s face had been resting in his hands but he looked up as you came in. Changbin was leaning on the chairs’ hindlegs, scrolling through his phone with one hand as his other played with a strand of his dark hair. Jeongin was standing in the kitchen, which was unusual as Minho normally wouldn’t let anyone near him whenever he was cooking. He must’ve been helping cook.

You greeted them all with a yawn and walked over to your favorite spot. Chan had already pulled back his chair, his arms stretched out for you as you crawled onto his lap.

‘Morning sleepyhead,’ he mumbled groggily as he wrapped his arms around you, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Changbin let his chair back on all fours as Minho handed him his breakfast.

‘So are you ready for your trip?’ He asked, being the most awake of all of them, except for the cooks, maybe. You nodded eagerly, feeling slightly more awake as you thought about it. You had been looking forward to it so much. Not just going back to Jeju, but spending some quality time with Seungmin as well.

Hyunjin shifted in his chair, blinking a few times and sitting upright, suddenly looking more awake.

‘Oh right, that’s today,’ he said, smiling at you. ‘I do recommend you take some stuff with you to entertain yourself. Our starboy can really get a little too nerdy with his work,’ he said, clicking his tongue and pulling a face.

A loud whooshing sound came so unexpectedly and gave you such a start that you swung your arms around Chan’s neck and buried your face between his chest muscles. You could hear Hyunjin let out a shriek and both Changbin and Minho swore loudly.

‘I heard that,’ Seungmin’s voice sounded coldly.

‘For heaven’s sake Seungmin, can you not?’ Chan said angrily.

‘Sorry, y/n,’ Seungmin said, as you turned around to see him, letting go of Chan and ignoring what he said. Immediately, Hyunjin, Minho, and Changbin simultaneously started to lecture him about what they called “indecent” behavior.

‘So are we allowed to teleport whenever and wherever now?’ Jeongin’s voice asked over the tirade of swears the three men were throwing at an unconcerned Seungmin.

‘No, Jeongin, you cannot,’ Chan answered quickly with a stern voice. Jeongin pulled a face before returning to his cooking. Chan only had to look at Minho, Changbin, and Hyunjin for them to shut their mouths again, although they still looked annoyed. Seungmin sat down next to you and Chan.

‘Packed all your bags?’ Seungmin asked as he sat down. You nodded, turning on Chan’s lap to face him. ‘Good, I wanna leave early today, so I’ll have enough time to set up my stuff,’ he stated. ‘Also, as much as I hate to say it,’ Seungmin began, throwing Hyunjin a dirty look, ‘it would probably be wise to bring some extra stuff to do. I’ll be quite busy,’ He said, looking at you apologetically.

‘Breakfast!’ Minho said, as he put a Pajeon on Chan’s plate, working his way around the table. You got up from his lap, giving him some space to eat when Felix came walking in. He greeted the group and sat down next to Hyunjin, who was also eating now.

‘Good morning,’ Han greeted as he shuffled into the kitchen sleepily. The boys all gave their greetings as Han walked around the table, stopping in front of you. ‘Y/n,’ Han said softly. You looked up at him as he planted a short kiss on your lips. For just a second you felt taken aback. Sure you had kissed him before, and more, but none of the boys had ever kissed you on your lips in front of the others. You felt yourself blush instantly as Han withdrew his face with a playful but innocent expression. His sparkling green eyes suddenly seemed to be the only thing that existed in this world. Then a protesting exclamation pulled you back to the real world.

‘Hey man, no fair!’ Changbin growled, jumping up from his chair. Minho, Felix and Chan all let out grumbling protests as well.

‘Can I get one too?’ Hyunjin asked eagerly, also getting up from his chair.

‘Is this how we can greet y/n now?’ Jeongin asked enthusiastically, also running over. You felt a tug at your hand, pulling you from your chair and onto Seungmin’s lap.

‘I thought I had her reserved for the weekend,’ Seungmin spoke coldly as he wrapped his arms around you the way Chan had. Instantly, more protests arose from around the room.

‘Can’t we just share?’ you said with a giggle, looking at all the scowling and eager faces around the table.

‘No. Not this weekend. I’ll allow it after that,’ Seungmin said with a grumble, pulling you in closer and nuzzling his face into your neck. You giggled again as his soft hair tickled your neck.

‘You know she’s a person, right? You can’t just say you’ve reserved her,’ Felix said, clicking his tongue.

‘Boys, please don’t fight,’ you said, trying to hold in your laughter. Never in your life had you imagined being fought over, especially not by all the men you equally loved so much.

‘You reserved her from Friday afternoon. It is now morning, come on, we promised to share,’ Han said in a lecturing kind of voice. He had sat down and was now opening his arms for you, winking at you seductively as if he were trying to lure you in.

‘Again guys, she’s a person,’ Felix sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his lips together in annoyance.

Seungmin withdrew his face from the crook of your neck and for a moment you thought he would protest or even zap Han. But then he made a grumbling sound and let go of you.

‘Come to daddy,’ Han said with a low voice, his arms still open for you. You laughed as you walked over to him to sit on his lap. You could see everyone looking at the two of you sourly as you sat down with him. ‘Such a good girl for me,’ he said softly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. It was clear he was in a teasing sort of mood. You could feel your heart rate rise instantly at his words and you knew your ears were pinking up. Han placed a finger underneath your chin and slowly guided your face closer to his own. For a moment his emerald green eyes enchanted your view before he once again softly put his lips on yours, longer this time. When he withdrew, your stomach was fluttering and your head was spinning.

A sudden clunking sound made you look away from his startled face. Minho had stopped next to the two of you and slammed down one plate with Pajeon. He had his arms folded and looked more than displeased. He wasn’t the only one though. You could easily spot the jealousy dripping from their expressions, many of them even eyeing you lustfully now. You gulped.

‘Where’s my breakfast?’ Han asked as if nothing had happened, looking up at Minho. Blushing fiercely, you quickly drew the plate closer to you to start eating so you didn’t have to see the guy’s wanting eyes anymore.

‘We just ran out of food, sorry,’ Minho said, poorly faking a smile.

Frowning slightly, you walked through the rows of books, searching for the title you needed. Your finger stopped in the place it ought to be, but the book was not there. You clicked your tongue in annoyance. You didn’t feel like asking the librarian whether it was loaned already, as you were sure you had seen several copies before and the woman had never been nice to you. You crinkled your nose and decided to continue searching, hoping someone might have misplaced it. As you wandered the rows of books for a while, a familiar voice caught your attention.

‘Maybe we can ask y/n to host it?’ Sera said softly and thoughtfully. You looked up, peeking through the rows of books. You could see Sera and Adam sitting in the study spot near the window where you often sat. Adam snorted softly.

‘Don’t expect her to,’ he said, pressing his lips together in a grim smile.

‘Why not?’ Sera asked, her voice sounding surprised.

‘Don’t know if you noticed, but y/n isn’t exactly forthcoming…’ Adam said with a look.

‘I thought that was just because I was new to her…’ Sera said, frowning now too.

‘Oh no, she’s actually super welcoming to you,’ Adam said with a nod, ‘But this is probably as far as we’ll get to know her I guess,’ he shrugged.

‘Haven’t you ever been to her house then?’ Sera asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

‘Nope,’ Adam shook his head. ‘I don’t even know where she lives. I just know she has, like, eight roommates, I think?’

‘What? Eight?’ Sera said, raising her voice somewhat in surprise. Adam quickly shushed her, looking around to see if the stern librarian had heard them and quickly continued in a lowered voice.

‘Yeah, and they’re all guys too. Two of them work here actually,’ He said.

‘Two? I thought it was just that Mr. Lee?’ Sera said, raising her brows.

‘No, Mr. Han as well, I think he teaches biology or something? I’m not sure. She doesn’t talk about them a lot,’ he shrugged.

‘Eight guys…’ Sera repeated again thoughtfully. ‘Have you met them though?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, I think I’ve met all of them by now,’ he said, thinking with a frown. ‘Seven of them were there when I woke up after my accident. One of them came to visit me a few times after that as well,’ Adam spoke.

You blinked at this new information.

‘Really? What did you guys talk about?’ Sera asked curiously.

‘Erm, we didn’t talk at all, to be honest,’ Adam admitted, rubbing his neck awkwardly. ‘To be honest, whenever he was there, I always pretended to be asleep. I mean, you have to remember that I used to like her and then I found out she had eight roommates that all look like they’ve been cut out of magazines. I was kinda salty about it for a while, so I didn’t know what to say,’ Adam said with a shrug. Sera clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

‘But those eight guys, are they family?’ Sera asked eagerly. It was clear she was getting more curious with every word Adam said.

‘What? Her’s or like, each others?’ Adam asked. Sera shrugged and waved her hand for him to answer but Adam hesitated.

‘Look, I’m not sure if this should all come from me, but on the other hand… She does seem kinda awkward talking about it with me. Although, she seems to like you,’ he thought aloud and paused for a moment. After apparently making a decision, he continued to speak. ‘Well, they’re not her family at least. I don’t think they’re related to each other either, because I don’t see a lot of similarities between them. I think they’re just friends,’ he spoke.

‘But how do they know her then?’ Sera asked eagerly. Adam paused a second, thinking. You remembered how you told him how they had simply found you and sort of adopted you into their group.

‘I guess they just kinda found each other, you know,’ he said vaguely, shrugging. Apparently, the answer was satisfactory for Sera because she shook her head slowly and spoke.

‘Living with eight guys… I’d go mad,’ Sera said with a huff, leaning back in her chair.

‘She seems to be fine with it,’ Adam shrugged again. ‘I mean, they are a little overprotective of her, but they seem to be taking good care of her as well. They often take her on days out too I believe, like art shows and stuff,’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Art shows?’ Sera repeated. Adam nodded. She frowned for a moment. Before anything else could be said, the bell rang, making you jump back in surprise. You checked your watch and realized that your next class had already started. For a moment you lingered, peeking through the shelving unit at the two of them. They had stopped talking and were starting to pack up their stuff. For a moment you considered skipping the class and following them, wanting to hear what else they would say, but you decided against it. Not only was the class an important one, but it also felt wrong to listen in on their conversations, even if it had been about you. You quickly hoisted your bag over your shoulder and ran off, hoping they wouldn’t see you exiting the library.

It was somewhat difficult to focus on your next class. Your mind kept wandering off, back to the conversation you had overheard. You weren’t angry that they had talked about you. You knew it was normal to talk about friends, and they hadn’t said anything bad or untruthful about you. But still…

Something felt a bit weird.

Absent-mindedly, you walked out of the classroom towards the exit of the school. Of course, Sera had asked the questions she had, it hadn’t been weird at all. She was just curious about you. And Adam was right, you weren’t very forthcoming about yourself. It wasn’t just because you found it hard to explain that you were a Goddess living with eight Gods with whom you were in a weird sort of relationship with, but that wasn’t much of a helping factor. After all, technically you were only three years old and never had many friends either to practice with.

But the things Sera had said made you frown for some reason. Like you were missing something. Overlooking something.

But what?

‘Y/n,’ a voice called your name and you looked up. You were already standing outside of the college building, a car standing at the kiss and ride with a familiar figure in front of it.

'Seungmin?' You said his name surprised. He was leaning casually with his back against the car, clearly waiting for you. He drew up quite the attention as you heard the other students passing giggling and whispering, catching snippets of remarks about his sky-blue eyes.

You quickly ran over to him, feeling your cheeks flush pink.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked him, stopping near him and looking around nervously.

‘I didn’t know this area was restricted to Lino and Han,’ he said coolly, but you knew he was teasing. You clicked your tongue in annoyance.

‘Of course, it isn’t,’ you spoke with a pout, noticing a group of girls stopping some distance away and pointing and giggling at the two of you.

‘Then did you forget about our trip already?’ He asked, sounding somewhat concerned. You looked at him and quickly shook your head.

‘Of course not, but… Aren’t we leaving after dinner?’ you asked surprised, staring at the car and trying to look through the darkened windows to see if you could spot any luggage.

‘I told you this morning I wanted to leave early, didn’t I?’ Seungmin spoke, taking a step towards you. You looked up at him.

‘Like, right now?’ You asked, startled. He nodded, stretching out his hand for you. For a split second, your brain seemed to malfunction with all the thoughts that were popping up in protest. But when you looked at his bright blue eyes, the thoughts melted away like snow in the sun. Your insides felt warm as he looked at you, your heart beating steadily and excitedly for him. A breath escaped you and all concern, thoughts, and doubts seemed to leave with it. You were home with him.

Smiling back at him broadly, you took his hand as he took your bag from you and slung it around his own shoulder, freeing his hand so he could open the door for you. You got in, ignoring the people staring at Seungmin and his car with curious glances. Seungmin threw your bag in the trunk before walking around and getting in himself.

‘Don’t forget your seatbelt,’ he said, looking over to you as he sat down. You reached across your body to grab your seatbelt, but Seungmin was faster. He leaned over you and pulled the seatbelt out for you, his face passing yours closely. You could smell his warm summer-like scent as he clicked the seatbelt in. Your eyes locked for a moment and your lips parted with your breath. He grinned and pulled back, fixing his own seatbelt, before driving the two of you off.

W R I T E R S N O T E

Sorry for the long wait ya'll, I know it's not even a long chapter, but writing is becoming increasingly difficult. I won't forsake the story, I promise, but it might take a long time to finish... I hope things will become better soon. Love ya'll! Thank you all so much for your never-ending support and kinds words <3

Lots of Love

Dolly

50 notes · View notes

siren-serenity · 10 months

Text

"y/n?"

a soft murmur of your name awoke you sweetly. in the darkness, you blinked your eyes blearily, letting the wet tears fade out of your vision until you see bang chan staring at you apologetically.

"sorry, love," he apologized before shrugging off his black hoodie, revealing the grey sweatshirt he wore underneath. he hung it on the chair before lifting a corner of the blanket.

"finished with the new song?" you yawned and he nodded. even though darkness blanketed the room, you could make out a happy glimmer in his eyes.

bang chan snuggled into you, loving the way your body presses into him like a koala clinging to it's tree. he raised an arm and you lift your head into his embrace, an ear pressed against the area above his heart. the comforting, rhythmic thumps tempted to lull you back to sleep, but you resisted the urge.

"i think i'll ask the members their opinions tomorrow," he punctuated the end of his sentence with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. a stray strand of hair fell onto his face and you raised an finger, brushing it away so eyes could meet. eyes filled with love.

"night channie."

he pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before smiling.

"goodnight sweetheart."

#bang chan #christopher chan #stray kids #kpop #kpop moodboard #stray kids x reader #chan #bang chan x reader #stray kids bang chan

42 notes · View notes

whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year

Text

I'm going by myself to a Chase Atlantic concert in a couple of weeks.

And if I don't have a y/n moment with a knock-off Christopher Chan.

I'm going to be thoroughly disappointed.

#stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #christopher chan #bang chan #whatudowhennooneseesyou hard thoughts #I want to have a sexy moment with a toxic fboi with black hair and piercings okay?#i'm hoping the universe will take pity on my 3 year dry spell and give me this moment #i will be taking my Chan pc's in honour of him #kpop smut #chase atlantic

63 notes · View notes

straykidsreactionsandscenarios · 1 year

Text

StayTeez Trope’Pril - Trope Prompt 4: Everyone can see it except them

Post Date: 11th April 2023 Content: Fluff - Everyone can see it except them : Chan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.5K TW?: Reader is in an emotionally abusive relationship/ Non sexual degrading/ belittling/ Chan and Minho are brothers/ Teasing

Summary: Being in a difficult relationship, you never realised that both you and your best friend Chan had the biggest crush on each other, especially with your situation, it made it complicated. But you knew what you had to do.

~ Scenario Mobile Masterlist Prompt List StayTeez Trope’Pril Masterlist If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!

"Why don't you pop over for an hour? You're welcome up at any time, you know this." Your best friend's boyfriend Minho suggests over the headset, knowing you're not feeling 100% in yourself. Feeling quite lonely as your boyfriend is busy with his friends.

Though you didn't really feel like doing anything, you felt like you should socialise more. You felt suffocated in the relationship like you couldn't have any male friends without being accused of cheating on him, but you had to socialise.

Plus, Minho has literally known you for seven years, throughout school and into adulthood. He was like an older brother figure that you obviously had a great relationship despite your many arguments over the pettiest things.

"Yeah sure, I'll be there in ten." You sigh, closing down the game and shutting off your console, throwing on a dress, wanting to make an effort for yourself.

Luckily, he only lives up the road with his older brother, Chan. Who you've talked to over game party, never actually meeting him which in all honesty, you were worried about meeting, purely for it to be a new person to meet face to face.

"We're around the back!" Minho calls out from down the lane beside the house, welcoming you over and scruffing up your hair as you walk past to sit on the chair beside him.

"It's nice to see you out and about. How's everything with that dickhead?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

You knew beforehand that Minho wasn't the biggest fan of your relationship, well... More about the guy you're with. He didn't think he was good enough for you.

"Minho! And we're fine, he's out with his friends so I haven't heard from him yet." You reply, forcing a smile as you slap his forearm for calling him such, but you knew deep down. He's right. Just can't show it.

"Hey, Minho. Have you seen-" Someone calls out, walking out of the kitchen door into the garden but stopping in his tracks when his eyes lay on you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise you had friends over." He rushes to leave you guys alone but Minho stops him.

"Chan, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Chan." Minho softly introduces you both, and when you look up at Chan to smile and wave it to him, your world stops for a moment.

Oh, he's handsome. With the most gorgeous smile.

Blush quickly rushes to your cheeks as you try to look anywhere else but him, but it was impossible. It didn't help that Chan couldn't keep his eyes off of you either, taking a seat opposite as Minho suggests to him, and you start getting into a conversation.

That conversation leads to being four years later, and now. Though you felt guilty. Chan has become your closest friend. Even hanging out with him whenever you could. Playing games with him and completely enjoying his company.

Which your boyfriend really hated. Every second of it.

The signs were there from the beginning that you were in a toxic relationship with him, but you never wanted to admit it. You were scared of being alone, scared of the way he'd react if you ended it for your mental health.

Sleepless nights, crying to yourself as he lays peacefully beside you. The constant screaming at you for the littlest things. Being belittled whenever you tried to do something or express a new interest to him. Always being on the receiving end of his comments such as "Why are you talking to me about this? I don't care".

And more recently, his emotional manipulation for affection and more of you, trying to control when and how you give him affection and other things completely against your will.

"I'm not doing this with you! What's wrong with you?!" You scream at Charlie - your boyfriend - who's recently gotten so jealous of your friendship with Minho and Chan.

Charlie gets close to you, and you quiver behind your arms covering your face, "Why is it that you seem to enjoy spending more time with your friends than me?!"

You step back, tears forming in your eyes, biting back at him which you knew better than to do because you'd always get worse back, "Because they don't talk to me or treat me like utter crap!"

"Don't lie. You're just a little whore for attention for cock, you'd do anything to be laid wouldn't you?" He snarls, making you feel physically sick at his comment.

Refusing to look at him, you rush out of the room, grabbing a bag with a few things before storming out of the flat, booking a ticket for the next train back home, and instantly going up to the brothers' house.

Knocking on the door with very little energy, you're greeted by Chan who welcomes you with a warm hug, holding you tight to his chest. He doesn't even have to ask what's gone on, your tear-stained cheeks say it all to him.

"He's doing it again, isn't he? Please don't lie to me, Y/N." He softly speaks into your neck, caressing the back of your head as he hears your choked cry into his shoulder.

Everyone knew what was going on in your relationship, but couldn't say or do anything for you. They knew when you were around them without Charlie, you were happier, smile more and felt comfortable. But you're different over game chat when you're back in the flat with him.

"Shh, it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down. I'm going to grab you a drink and tissues." He slowly leaves go, not to frighten you with any sudden movements as you make your way towards the living room, taking a seat on your claimed spot in the house as he disappears into the kitchen.

Within minutes, Minho shows up in the room, a look of concern plastering his face and looking at you with sincere worry, "You're ugly when you cry, you should smile." He softly jokes to make you laugh, laughing himself when you curse at him.

"Does Titch know you're up here?" You shake your head at Minho's question. Your best friend, Titch, knows a lot goes on, especially when you're phoning every night and most times experiencing the way that Charlie talks to you, "Do you want her up here?".

Shaking your head, you just sit back, wiping the tears with the back of your hand and Minho joins Chan in the kitchen.

"I fucking hate him, man. She's a mess, she needs to get out of that relationship, it pains me physically to see her like this." Chan sighs to Minho who nods in agreement, completely understanding that feeling.

"It's a shame she doesn't have a guy to make her feel like a princess rather than garbage." Minho winks at Chan, who looks at him puzzled.

Minho pats him on the shoulder, making his comment before disappearing into his room, letting this sink into Chan's head, "Come on, brother. I see the way you look at her, you can't tell me that you don't have feelings for her. The same goes for her. She's caged in fake love, but when she looks at you, she's literally glowing."

Trapped in his own mind for a moment, he realises how right Minho was about his feelings for you, but he worries that'll never be reciprocated as much as he'd love it to be. Picking up the drink, he walks back into the room and hands it to you, slowly sitting down next to you as you lean your head on his.

"I can't do this anymore." You sob, clutching onto Chan's arm as he gently puts it around you, pulling you into another hug and his heart aches more.

"You need to break up with him. I hate, well, we all hate seeing you like this because of him. You deserve so much better, to be loved and appreciated by someone, to be treated like a queen. He can't give that to you and you need to be selfish, Y/N. Look out for yourself".

Listening to his words carefully, you know he's right. But it also gets you thinking about how he could care so much. But that you shake off.

Looking up at him, your mind goes wandering as you stare into his eyes and a smile slowly grows on your face. You're comfortable, you feel safe. You felt at home. Something you've never felt once with being Charlie.

But it would be so wrong to let your mind get confused with emotions, especially at this time.

"We'll be here for you, Y/N. I'll be here for you." He whispers softly as he plants a kiss on your cheek.

Stupid move on his behalf but it felt right, it felt right for you too but you didn't know what it was.

"Will you two lovebirds get a room?" Minho snarls playfully as he makes his entrance known, receiving dirty looks from you and Chan as he laughs, running into the kitchen and Chan chases him.

"It would be so funny if you slip right now." You comment with a giggle, Chan looks back with a huge eye smile and bursts into laughter, "I was thinking the exact same thing."

That moment, with the same mindset, literally knowing each other a little too well personality-wise, you knew you felt this is where you're meant to be.

Taglist: @hipster-shiz, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @bellscamander

#stray kids #stray kids blog #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stayteez trope'pril #stray kids imagines chan #christopher chan #bang chan #chan scenarios #chan imagines

31 notes · View notes

stayteezdreams · 1 year

Text

Headcanons: First Dates (Hyung Line)

Headcanons: First dates with the members of Stray Kids

Pairing: Stray Kids Hyung Line x Gn!Reader

(Maknae Line)

Warnings: Nothing :)

A/N: Since I'm new to writing for SKZ, reblogs would be appreciated :)

Chris (Day in the park)

Chris would have thought about everything he could do on a first date.

Dinner and a movie? No, too boring. Arcade? To crowded. Bowling? Not romantic enough.

After becoming too over whelmed, he couldn't make up his mind, so he just decided to go with the flow. Whatever happened, happened.

So he picked you up and the two of you walked through the park together.

Finding an abandoned frisbee, you ended up playing a game for a while, making small bets and competition out of it.

The loser was supposed to buy ice cream, but, after you lost, Chris got to the ice cream truck first and bought the ice cream before you could.

You sat on a bench, talking and laughing together as you ate your ice cream.

You ended up at a small market and wandered around for a while.

There was a man who had bunnies, and the two of you sat and played with them for a while. You'd often catch Chris watching you with an adoring grin.

After some time, you stopped at a cute little restaurant and got some coffee/tea and food.

Neither of you ran out of things to talk about, always having great conversation.

When you left the restaurant, neither of you wanted to part ways, so you went back to the park.

You sat in the grass and continued to talk until it started to get dark.

Chris was worried you'd have thought the date was so boring since you didn't do anything special.

But you really enjoyed it, glad that you didn't do something that would make it hard for you to talk to one another.

When you finally parted ways, he asked you nervously if you wanted to go on another date.

To which you said of course.

Gaining some courage before you parted ways, you kissed him on the cheek before saying a hurried goodbye.

Chris was left with red cheeks and a grin as he watched you walk away.

Lee Know (Picnic)

Lee Know cooked up a bunch of food for the two of you, packing it all in a cute basket.

He wouldn't tell you where you were going as you wandered through a park.

Finally stopping at a more secluded area under some trees, you sat down.

Lee Know rolled out a blanket and you watched as he set out various foods and drinks for the two of you.

He came across confident and proud, but really he was nervous that you wouldn't enjoy it.

But when he finally met your eyes and saw the grin on your face, he felt relieved.

"These are my favorite!" You'd said as you looked at some of the food.

Lee know smiled sheepishly "I know."

Your heart would be fluttering at the idea that he prepared your favorites on purpose.

He had also brought a bunch of little cakes for desert, that you shared.

At first he would be on the other side of the blanket as you, but as the date went on he slowly got closer.

Until eventually your legs were pressed together as you were talking in depth, laughing and enjoying each others company.

It felt like you too had been together for ages, there was no discomfort or awkwardness between you.

At one point as you talked, you felt his hand gently start caressing yours. You could tell he didn't realize he was doing at first, because when he did notice, his eyes went a little wide as he cleared his throat, taking his hand away.

You parted ways with a promise that you'd plan the next date. To which Lee Know was very, very excited about.

Changbin (Arcade and Late-night food)

Changbin is all for fun dates.

So he brought you to an arcade.

The two of you played every game available, often having friendly competitions each time.

If Changbin won he'd do a little dance and tease you.

If you won, he'd pout and say he let you win (he didn't)

You won each other toys in the claw machines.

He won you a cow, you won him a panda. You named them after each other accordingly.

Once you had managed to play every game, having not really noticed how much time had passed, you both realized you were starving.

Changbin's took you to one of his favorite food spots, where you had never gone before.

He bought all of his favorites, wanting you to try them (he even tried to feed you multiple times)

Changbin insisted on walking you home, and as you got closer, you slowly started walking slower, neither of you wanting the date to be over.

When you did reach your house however, you parted ways with shy smiles. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before going inside.

You don't tell him until a few dates later that you totally saw him dance and hop around in joy once you had gotten inside.

Hyunjin (Museum and Painting Class)

It wasn't really a surprise that Hyunjin took you to a museum on your first date.

He really just wanted to show you a new exhibit that he really thought you'd like.

You really enjoyed it, and relished in the times you two stood beside each other, arms brushed together as you looked at the art.

There were a couple times you felt his hand brush yours, and you thought he might take it, but he got too nervous each time and didn't.

Sometimes as you admired a piece, you would feel his eyes slowly drift over to you as he watched you. You'd pretend like you didn't notice, as you hoped there was no visibly flush on your face.

One time, you did look over and meet his eyes, and you saw shock cross his as he felt embarrassment at being caught staring.

But as you grinned cutely at him, he smiled and giggled under his breath before sheepishly looking away.

After about an hour Hyunjin whisked you out of the museum, telling you he had booked something for the two of you to do.

Showing up to an unfamiliar place, you found that he had booked you two in a painting class.

You had never done anything like this before so you were nervous, yet excited.

Hyunjin would often compliment you on your painting, encouraging you and telling you you were doing great.

He'd make you laugh every time he messed up, letting out a dramatic gasp.

If you messed up, he'd help you fix your mistakes, standing up behind you, leaning into your shoulder and helping you. (He totally did this on purpose because he wanted to make you nervous)

Even if your painting didn't come out great, Hyunjin insisted on keeping it, and he definitely set it up in his room beside his.

You ended up going on a few more painting dates in the future as well, and made museum trips a regular thing.

319 notes · View notes

eiyanii · 1 year

Text

me: you better not look like coraline in the maniac music video

bang chan’s goofy ass:

#i downloaded capcut to make this video #is it just me?#i can’t be the only one who thinks this #skz #stray kids #stay #maniac #bang chan #christopher chan #skz bang chan #bang chan skz #coraline #oddinary

22 notes · View notes

kaiso-woo · 5 months

Text

Heartbeat

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

-> Masterlist

PART 6 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader - for this fic, I highly recommend reading at least PART 1 (Just Stay.) and 5 (The Date of All Dates), as there's flashbacks included and references made to these parts.

WC: 10.3k (long fic no. 2) | Synopsis: You break up with Chris :| Does he chase after you? Yes. Yes of course he does because it would be boring if he doesn't. There's also a fight, naturally.

Notes: ANGST, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Angry!Chan, Heartbroken!Chan, EmotionalWreck!Chan HAH, Blood, Suic!de (Strong Descriptions), Swearing, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love etc.)

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

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

PART 6

Listen to this after if you want, it was the inspiration for half the fic hehe - I'll embed it at the bottom as well.

youtube

Notice Regarding Bang Chan’s Personal Life

Hello, this is JYPE.

Recently, there has been a great deal of speculation and discussion surrounding Bang Chan's long-distance relationship. We understand that our fans are concerned about his well-being and how this relationship may affect his commitments as an idol. We want to assure you that our highest priority is the well-being and professional responsibilities of our artists, including Bang Chan.

Due to the outlash of feedback received from the recently leaked photos of him with his significant other, he has been restricted from visiting his partner for the time being. We understand that this situation may raise questions and concerns among fans, and we appreciate your continued support and understanding.

We want to make it clear that Bang Chan's personal life, including his relationship, is his private matter. However, we believe in being transparent with our fans to address any concerns. We want to emphasise that this romantic relationship will not affect Bang Chan's performance, schedule, or duties as an idol. He remains fully committed to his career, his passion for music and his responsibilities as a member of Stray Kids remain unwavering.

JYP Entertainment will continue to provide Bang Chan with the necessary support and guidance to ensure that he can balance his personal life and professional obligations. We believe in nurturing a healthy work-life balance for our artists to ensure their well-being and success in their careers.

We kindly ask for your understanding and support during this time. Please continue to support Bang Chan and Stray Kids as they work hard to bring you great music and performances.

Thank you.

That was approximately four months ago. Chris had informed you of the situation as soon as he found out, and when you read the official notice, you couldn’t help but scowl at how supportive they were making themselves seem. What they were really hoping was that the separation would cause a shift in your relationship, and you’d break up. Not that it mattered, because that is exactly what was going to happen, what you had been planning from the beginning.

Chris flops into his studio chair, raking a hand through his hair in his exhaustion. It’s taking a toll on his health if he’s being honest. It’s paining him that he can’t call you as frequently as he’d like, can’t see you whenever he pleased, can’t hug you like you’re his teddy bear. He wondered how you were doing constantly; in the middle of dance rehearsals, working in his studio, posing for the camera, grinning in interviews.

He sighs and tugs his phone out of his pocket, opening up his camera roll and scrolling through his photos with you. His camera roll is half Stray Kids, half you. Eating ice cream, in the car, sitting on park benches together, at the beach, snuggled together in your apartment. His mind immediately relaxes as he scrolls through them all, reliving each memory he has with you. The heat from him officially announcing your relationship still hasn’t died down, and there are trucks with LED signs still rolling up frequently to the front of JYP. (A/N: Inspired by the uproar from losing Chan's Room irl obviously, in this world however, it still exists)

He checks the time on his wristwatch, and mentally calculates whether you’d be sleeping or not. He’s supposed to do Chan’s Room, but he wants to see you too. After a moment of contemplation, he seeks out your contact and hits the face time button. You answer after a second, immediately propping your phone up on the kitchen counter so you can move around.

“Hey, you okay?” you smile at him through the camera, and Chris grins back, admiring your adorably unkempt state: messy hair, PJs, bare face. He props you up on his computer monitor and leans back into his chair. “Yeah ha. I just wanted to see you,” he shrugs, and you shake your head at him in amusement, “I thought you’d be asleep.”

You sigh and drag your chopping board into the camera, waving your knife around dramatically, “I’m kind of hungry.” “Are you seriously cooking a whole ass meal at… 3am?” Chris laughs, dragging his chair closer to watch as you chop up vegetables and toss them into a pot.

“I was craving soup, and then I remembered I could satisfy my own cravings if I actually tried. Here, want a carrot?” you ask, picking up a slice and shoving it towards the camera. Chris giggles and opens his mouth. You blink in surprise when he grabs a carrot stick from off camera and munches on it, “Thanks for the carrot.”

“Who knew we were that in sync,” you laugh, shoving your carrot into your mouth and chewing happily. “Stay with me?” he asks, finishing off his carrot as you go back to your cooking, “I’m going to do Chan’s Room now, but can you stay on call?” “Sure.”

You had been stalling your decision for months now. It’s been half a year, and Chris still hasn’t been able to return to your side. To top this off, your trash can is ridiculously full of letters you haven’t even opened. In the beginning you would hesitantly tear open the mail, but the amount of hate and death threats you were receiving never seemed to stop, so Chris eventually ordered you to just stop reading them.

You figured some people had recognised you thanks to the Skz-Code episode. Although you weren't part of the episode itself, people picked up on you as the owner of the Café when they visited. This knowledge was slightly scary, but... you'd manage.

Sometimes, when your mood wasn’t the best, you would pluck a letter out at random. The words within it only confirmed your reason for ever thinking of breaking up with him. Your socials and emails were swamped with them too.

Chris couldn’t go live without people asking him about you, both in a positive or negative way. Stray Kids’ couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without someone asking about how the relationship was panning it out, and you were tired of hearing Chris calmly explain exactly what the official notice from JYP had stated. You could tell he was sick of it too. As time wore on, you noticed more and more in Chris’ demeanour, in Skz-Talker, award shows, back-stage footage, he had grown reserved, silent.

He was captured spending time on his phone often, in an irritable mood more frequently, and the Stray Kids members often gave you updates on his moods, behind his back. He really only seemed happy when he was talking with you, or messaging you. And that… as an idol? No that’s not allowed. You frown at the image Jisung had just sent you: a picture of Chris sitting on a bench up against the wall of the dance room, staring off into space, his posture deflated.

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

Jisung: “He feels different”

You: “I’ve noticed”

Jisung: “he really misses you”

You: “I know Jisung” You: “I miss him too”

Jisung: “JYP is mean”

You: “Chris just needs to snap out of it” You: “He’s an idol first and foremost”

Jisung: “I think he just wants to be yours” Jisung: “First and foremost”

You: “Yeah but he can’t just give up on his life like this” You: “not for me, not for anyone” You: “he worked too hard for this” You: “suffered too much”

Jisung: “this is the worst he’s ever suffered”

You: “no it’s not”

Jisung; “I think it is”

You: “Jisung, tell him I said he needs to remember who he is”

Jisung: “he said he knows who he is”

You: “who is he?”

Jisung: “I’m not going to tell you what he said”

You: “why?”

Jisung: “You’ll just get mad”

You: “…”

Jisung: “I think he’d give up everything for you” Jisung: “JYP spoke with him again today” Jisung: ��I think that’s why his mood has worsened”

You: “… Me or Skz???” You: “Ji?”

You sigh and rub your temples, trying to ease the migraine that’s forming. Jisung’s left you on read, and you know exactly what that means. This is it. The tears that you’ve been holding back ever since you first considered it start to fall. The tears that you’ve buried deep down into your soul flood out. They’ve been hiding there, threatening to return, ever since he bought you those skittles.

Your sobs rack through you, chest heaving, as your bottled-up emotions explode out of you in waves. You’re laughing through your tears now; sobbing, quietly screaming, laughing, all at once. You didn’t cry as you packed up your suitcase, didn’t cry as Ashley hugged you tightly, before she signed the official transfer papers. You never cried while you were on call with Chris, or as you read his sweet messages in the morning. Never cried at how miserable he looked on screen, never cried as you packed up your decorations and belongings. Never cried as you bid your official farewell to your regulars, and hosted Ashley’s take over celebration.

And now you were crying, and oh how it hurt.

Ashley peeks her head around the bedroom door. She had recently moved into your apartment, preparing for your departure. Ashley was the owner of Café Studio now. She would live in your apartment, and she would take care of the business. You reached for her desperately, needing someone, anyone to support you. She walks over and pulls you into a tight embrace. You curl up against her, burying yourself into her neck, sobbing wholeheartedly.

“Are you sure… this is the right thing to do…?” she quietly asks, patting your back. You bitterly laugh and wipe away your tears, trying to still your erratic breathing. She’d asked you the same question countlessly over the past few months, but you were stubborn in your decision.

Chris’ declining attitude and personality change was only confirmation that you needed to get out of his life, so that he could return to being the wonderful idol that he was before he met you. You’d go home, back to Australia (A/N: Australia because the irony for Chris) and take a few months to reset with your family. You’d already applied for a course at university, finally pursuing the path your parents had initially wanted you to take. You had really wanted to try the Café first though, wanted to make your dream a reality. Things would work out okay. You sniffle and pull away from Ashley, who’s expression is filled with nothing but pity. It was time for you to disappear.

Most of your belongings had already been shipped back home, and your parents had been keeping up to date with your relationship via the internet. You had eventually informed them of your relationship with Chris, worried that they would first find out via the spam of the internet. Tears almost spill again when you realise you’ve never really spoken to Chris about your family, never had the opportunity to introduce him to them. All you’ve ever told him is that you have two younger brothers.

You disappear into the office, leaving Ashley sitting by herself on the couch, and open up your laptop, immediately booking the first flight you see over to Perth. It leaves in… 2 hours.

Are you ready, reader? Yeah sorry, Kaiwoo here to ruin your lovely reading experience to speed up things. I love writing don’t get me wrong, but I can be a lazy ass sometimes, so I’m going to give the following events to you straight.

You try to call him, a couple of days after you’ve returned home, having finally worked up the courage to explain what you’ve done. You’re a coward, really, fleeing the country before even talking to him about it.

In all honesty, he’s probably already picked up on your absence. You haven’t actively messaged him or called him yourself over the past couple of days, only responding to his messages and answering his calls for brief conversations. He probably knows what’s up.

I lied. He doesn’t. He’s been as busy as ever, and he’s been pushing himself harder lately, trying to distract himself from you. JYP did speak to him, but it wasn’t anything to do with an ultimatum. JYP had spoken to him about his declining performance, told him to get his shit together – and he fell into an existential crisis for a little while.

Jisung left you on read because he assumed Chris was given an ultimatum. So all in all, this just comes down to communication errors. Communicating long distance is always hard though. He hasn’t noticed that your efforts into communicating with him have lessened. Which is exactly why, what you’ve done to him… will end him.

“You can end me whenever you want love. Just as long as it’s you doing it.” You pinch him lightly with an amused laugh, “You’re such a cheesy ass.” “Only for you~” he laughs, the vibrations from his throat rippling through you.

Hm. That panned out well, don’t you think?

Chris bows in thanks to the other dancers in the room, wiping the sweat off his forehead and throwing his jacket over his shoulder. “Thank you guys, great work today everyone,” he smiles, patting those closest on the back with confidence. The rest of Stray Kids are finishing up their thanks as well, and are gathering their belongings, having finally finished another exhausting dance practice session. The room empties of other dancers, leaving just Chris and his Kids’ alone.

Minho and Jisung are talking quietly with one another, Hyunjin still trying to perfect a difficult dance move. Changbin gulping down a whole bottle of water, Felix sprawled out in a star on the floor. Seungmin and Jeongin are sitting crossed legged by the wall, staring at everyone in a tired and dazed state, fluffy hair sticking out everywhere.

“Anyone hungry for chicken?” Changbin asks, addressing the group as a whole. There a few murmurs of assent, and Minho states that he’ll order some. They begin to chatter about what to order, drinks included.

Chris is staring at his phone, smiling at the notifications from you, unaware of the conversation around him. There’s two missed calls and one voice message. You’ve never left him a voice message before. Excited to hear what was so urgent that you had to leave a voice message, he turns his volume up so he can hear you over the noise of the Kids’ and activates his message bank.

[You have one new message]

He places his phone on top of the mini fridge and grabs a bottle of water, taking a generous gulp as he waits for the audio to play.

[Let’s…]

He slowly lowers the bottle at the tone of your voice, the hesitancy.

[break up.]

His body stiffens and his eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat.

[I’ve been thinking about it for a while.]

Chris blinks and his mouth parts in surprise, his breathing starting to intensify.

[Let’s break up.]

By now, the Kids’ have fallen silent, all of them watching Chris. All of them grasping the situation. All of their hearts cracking at the sight of their frozen leader. Chris is blinking rapidly, tears welling in the corner of his eyes. This can’t be happening.

[It’s not that you’ve done anything wrong.] [It’s not that our love lacks anything either.]

“No-” Chris murmurs, his hand shaking around the bottle he’s still holding.

[It’s just that… in some cases… love can only continue to a certain point.]

Chris’ other hand drifts to cover his mouth, shaking, a fragile gasp escaping his lips. The members drift over to him, surrounding him in a comforting hug.

He needs it. He makes no move to hug them back, makes no move as Seungmin eases the water out of his grasp. His hands lock at his sides as they lean into him. They can tell he’s fighting so hard to keep his tears at bay.

[So please don’t try to look for me…] [So that I can leave with good memories of you.]

Chris’ vision is blurry. His face is crumpled in an expression that almost makes him look mad. He really is, fighting with himself.

[Please don’t try to look for me.]

He’s trembling. His entire world is collapsing. Piece by piece. Memory by memory. All of it floods through his mind.

[I.. too… cherish you very much.]

He stumbles forwards, his breathing erratic, and the members watch as he snatches his phone from the fridge, the voice message still playing, and grabs the door handle to leave.

[So that’s why, I’m going to stop it here.]

Chris chokes back a pathetic sob and swings open the door, sprinting off, his jacket flying off his shoulders and landing on the floor.

It’s pouring rain outside. At least no one can see his tears.

It leaves me feeling seasick, baby

Chris bursts out of the JYP building, ignoring the yells of managers, trainees and staff alike. Immediately, he’s drenched from head to toe, but he couldn’t care less. The water seeps straight through to his bones, and he looks around desperately, like he’s searching for you – but obviously you’re not here. He unlocks his phone and calls you, the rain spattering the screen with droplets.

“Pick up,” his mind delirious, his teeth clenched, drawing in heavy breaths, “pick up pick up pickuppickuppickup- answer your fucking phone!” he dials you again and takes off at a sprint, running along the footpath, the rain pelting him. He can barely see where he’s going, his hair slick on his forehead.

Seems like I'm locked deep in the dreamlike reality

He’s called you about five times, panting in the rain before the thought crosses his mind. Chris swivels himself back around and sprints back to the JYP building, swerving past people in umbrella’s. He couldn’t care less about the water that he’s dripping everywhere on the floor, couldn’t care less about the surprised yells of employees as he pushes past them. He bounds up the steps, skipping as many as possible, the burn in his legs already growing, and bursts into JYP’s Office without even knocking.

“What did you say to her?” he asks, frantic, eyes flickering with pain. “Say to who?” JYP frowns, the conversation he was having with a trainee coming to an abrupt stop. “Y/N. What did you say to her?” Chris repeats, growing impatient. “I have not… said anything…” JYP deadpans, offering a sympathetic shrug.

It spins me 'round and drives me crazy

Chris is back out in the rain. He didn’t waste a second after those words left JYP’s mouth, turning tail and dashing back out of the building again. He was meant to head back to the dorms, but he’s been running around in circles, trying to process, trying to think. He stops in the middle of a nearby park, hyperventilating, letting the tears fall from his eyes straight to the ground, his hands braced on his knees.

“Why…? Why why why? You can’t do this to me,” he sobs, swiping the water from his phone screen again to dial your number for the nth time.

It seems that I'm like the moon in the midday

“Good morning sunshine…” he happily chirps, the familiar endearment causing you to smile happily. This time though, you have an idea. “Good morning moonlight,” your smile intensifies as Chris pauses, stunned, and you wriggle your way into a seated position, forcing him to do the same.

“Moonlight?” he questions, his voice cracking slightly in the early morning. “Yeah. Moonlight. ‘Cause even in the darkness you still shine.” Chris blinks at you, then after a second, grabs your arm to pull you into his lap, “Okay sure,” he pecks the top of your head, a favourite action of his, “but you got one thing wrong. If you’re my sunshine and I’m your moonlight… then I shine because you do.”

If I was only by myself

“Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me. You can’t-” Chris sinks down onto his knees, burying his face into his hands. The rain is beginning to die down, but that doesn’t matter to him. A whine escapes him, against his will, and it turns into a drawn-out moan as he collapses in on himself, a lone man in the middle of an even lonelier park.

If I didn't know you

“I need you. I need- why would you-” he looks at his phone again, then in his frustration, throws it into the nearby bush. He’s pacing around on the footpath in a panic, raking his hands over and over through his hair, tugging at it, his eyes puffy with tears, bottom lip trembling. He curses and scrambles around in the bush, plucking his phone out and shoving it into his pocket.

Maybe I'd have given up

Chris takes off into another sprint, his body needing to do something, trying to feel some other kind of pain that isn’t in his heart. Eventually, he stumbles into the wall of a building, desperately needing it for support, gasping for air. “Why would you-” his voice cracks into a dry scream, hammering his fist on the wall once, his forehead resting against the cold brick.

Lost at sea

That was him. The idiot leaning too far over the railing was the one whispering nonsense in your brain. How you came to this conclusion was to anyone’s guess, but it was him. In the seconds it had taken you to sprint over to him, he had clambered on top of the railing, balancing precariously, his hands in his hoodie pockets, gazing into the depths of the water.

But my heart's still on fire With a burning desire Gonna get you back like it's destined

He flinches at the sound of a car horn rapidly honking, and he pushes himself off the wall to locate it. “Yah! Hyung! Get in!” Minho yells, waving at him from the driver’s seat of one of the company cars. Chris shakes his head slowly, leaning back onto the wall, not in the mood to be sitting in a car with anyone. Needing instead to punish himself, make his body sore, let his throat go raw with his screams and his sobs.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want a lift to the airport then!” he yells again, winding up the window with a raise of his eyebrows. Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, annoyed with himself, his mind clearing.

I wish that you would love me

The car is practically silent as Minho drives, silent except for Chris’ sniffles. He’s staring off into space, and Minho’s worry for his elder only intensifies the longer they drive for, his eyes frequently flickering from his leader back to the road. A ringtone reverberates through the car, and Minho answers by pressing a button on the steering wheel. “Yeah?” “’Lix booked a flight ticket, tell Chan hyung it’s Gate 21, Flight FR3421, and leaves in an hour.” Changbin responds, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing through the phone as he walks.

“He’s here, I have him. He can hear you,” Minho calmly states, and Changbin makes a noise of acknowledgement before continuing on, “Jisung’s explaining things to JYP, I’m headed there now.” The sound of a door opening is heard, and then even louder, the voices of JYP and Jisung arguing.

Like yesterday, don't let go of this hand ever again

Chris’ hand sneakily slips into yours, and he places it neatly on his thigh, carefully stroking your knuckles. This shakes you out of your reverie, and you glance at your linked hands, a small smile gracing your features.

And every time my heart beats Match your steps so you don't wander around ever again

He’s going to find you. He doesn’t give a shit about how mad JYP will be. Doesn’t give two fucks about his schedule. He will find you. And he’ll never, never let you go.

I’m interrupting again, I do apologise. I unfortunately have run out of the mental capacity to continue writing like this. My heart, my mind, my soul can’t handle it. Chris gets on the plane, and he tries to sleep. He suffers really bad nightmares, and suddenly that strange occurrence is back. People are dying again. In his dreams though. Stays are dying again. He wakes up with a start and coughs up blood, it drips out of his hand and onto his clothes, and he’s shaking, trembling, wracked with fear and hurt and pain.

He needs you.

Chris thanks the taxi driver, pressing his phone to the EFTPOS through the car window and hoists his bag higher on his shoulder. Hyunjin had stuffed his bag with basic necessities and passed it on to Minho to take with him as he went on the hunt for Chris. The shutters are pulled down on your café. You must have just recently closed, it’s only 11.17pm.

After a brief hesitation, he hammers on the café door. When there’s no response, he takes a step back, searches for a pebble on the ground, aims, and throws it up at your apartment window. It takes him a couple of tries, but Ashley’s head suddenly peeks out. Her eyes widen as she recognises Chris, and she immediately disappears.

Chris’ confusion only mounts when Ashley pulls up the shutter and opens the door, the keys jangling in the lock. “Where is-” he begins, but Ashley swiftly interrupts him, “She’s not here.”

The young girl suggests that Chris comes inside, asking him twice because Chris’ mind has stopped working again. “What do you mean she’s not- she has to be,” he pleads and Ashley sighs, holding the door wider for him. Chris’ legs feel heavy as he walks into the café and follows Ashley upstairs to your apartment.

“I… I own this place now… I live here,” Ashley begins, cautiously analysing Chris’ expression. His breath is immediately wiped out of his lungs at the obvious lack of your presence. Your decorations are gone, your photo frames vanished, every essence of you eradicated from the apartment.

“Where… where is she…?” Chris murmurs, his bag slipping from his shoulders and down onto the floor. Ashley hums sadly, bouncing on the balls of her feet with her hands behind her back. Chris slowly turns towards Ashley, struggling to confirm coherent words, “Where- where did she go?”

Ashley sighs and clasps her hands together sadly, “She didn’t want me to tell you this… but quite honestly, I was never a supporter of this plan in the first place.” “This was a plan?” “Been planned right from the start of it all. Since the skittles, she said. She’s home now.”

“Home? This is her home. She should be- her home is with me.” Ashley shakes her head and disappears into her bedroom, your bedroom, Chris’ gaze lingering on her retreating form. After a minute, Ashley returns with a cardboard box in her arms.

“These are yours… your possessions. She wanted me to throw them out but… I… didn’t have the heart to,” she hands Chris the box, and he opens the lid hesitantly, blinking back tears.

His clothes, his toiletries, his snacks, his drinks.

“Where is she?” he asks again, asking for a more specific answer, “Where’s her home?” “She’s with her family, back in Australia… Perth.” Chris inhales sharply and stalks over to the couch to place the cardboard box there. He whips out his phone and types out a quick message to the Stray Kids’ group chat, letting them know of his current situation.

Jisung: “Go get her. I’ll fight with JYP again, no problem.”

The rest of the Kids’ react to Jisung’s message with a thumbs up.

Changbin: “I’ll beat his ass this time.”

Message's of agreement follow, and Chris manages a small smile.

“I’m not going to give you her address until you rest,” Ashley stubbornly states, assuming that Chris is booking a flight to Perth, “She’d want you to rest.” Chris contemplates Ashley’s words, glancing at her outstretched hand. A wave of exhaustion crashes over him then, and he nods in assent, handing his phone over to her. “No booking flights until tomorrow. Go wash up and get some sleep,” Ashley commands, walking over to place his phone on the kitchen counter.

He spends most of his time standing in the shower, staring at the wall, his brain foggier than the steaming glass windows. He’s absently fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist.

“Happy Birthday Christopher~” “What’s this?” “It’s a gift for me, obviously.” “Alright, you goose. Stupid question. Can I… open it?” “Of fucking course.” "…" “It’s got my name on the underside… so you can carry me wherever you go.” “I love you.” “I know.” “Oi! C’mere you little shit, say it back!” “Happy BirthdayyyyyyyyyyAHH! DON’T TICKLE ME!”

When he finally gets out of the shower, changing into one of his hoodies from the cardboard box of his belongings, he finds Ashley lying down on the couch, blankets draped on top of her, scrolling on her phone. “I’ll sleep on the couch. What’re you doing?” Chris asks, towelling his hair. Ashley lowers her phone and frowns at him, “It’s fine. You can take the bed.”

“I don’t think I can…” Chris whispers, and Ashley nods in understanding. “I thought you might like to… I haven't washed the sheets yet because they… they still smell like her…” “Oh,” Chris falters, swallowing thickly. “I just thought- that it’d help you sleep better. I know it helps me sleep better… I… I miss her too…” Ashley smiles softly, going back to scrolling on her phone. “You miss her?’ Chris asks, his voice croaky. “She’s like an older sister. Of course I miss her.” “Oh.”

They do… smell like you. But it’s not you.

Chris clicks open his phone, reading the text message from Ashley. She’s finally sent him your address using his recently traded phone number. He sighs and leans back into his plane seat, fiddling with that bracelet again. He’s trying to work through what he’s going to say to you when he finally sees you again. His gaze is unfocused as he stares out of the plane window, watching the clouds drift lazily past, the world small, insignificant.

Fear courses through him, and he sits up straighter, the back of his neck prickling, goosebumps emerging everywhere. His breath seizes in his throat as the barrel of a gun is pressed to the side of his head, cold and hard, digging painfully into his skin. He looks around in a panic, irises blown out and terrified, but of course – there’s no actual gun at his head. Chris’ hands grip his armrests tightly, his knuckles white, as a voice, echoey and distant, murmurs in his mind.

“Just pull the trigger and it’s done… it’s as easy as that…”

Chris’ breath returns in ragged huffs, his heart screaming in his chest, eyes flickering with horror.

“Please,” Chris begs, his voice coming out in a pitiful whine, “Please, not this again. Please.”

I’ll help you out here, since I’ve been a lazy author and haven’t been keeping you up to date with Chris’ strange condition much. This strange connection to suicidal Stays ceased to exist when he met you. They only visited him in nightmares, but even then, they eventually stopped too. It’s only just recently that they’ve returned… ever since you’ve left him. Ever since you’ve denied him your love. This time is different though, this time the symptoms are more severe.

I suppose… you can think of it like this – imagine you’ve been tortured for a long time, and then eventually you find release, you find freedom. Wouldn’t it be 10x worse if suddenly you’re thrown back into this torture? Thrown back in after finally having a taste of freedom? Yeah. I think it would be.

Chris hears the click of the trigger, loud next to his ear. There’s a brief bang, which makes him flinch, a stabbing pain in the side of his skull, and he’s gone. He’s dead. You can forget about his mission to find you. You can forget about his heartbeat, his thoughts, his soul. He’s dead. Died at the same time someone else in the world shot a bullet through their brain. He’s dead.

“Excuse me? Sir, please wake up. Sir! Natalie! Go get a med kit! Quickly!” Chris stirs, his head groggy as his eyes drift open. His vision is blurred, so even when he turns his head to stare at the person gripping his shoulder tightly, he can’t tell who it is.

“What…?” he mumbles as if someone’s just woken him from his peaceful sleep, and the flight attendant turns back to him in shock. “It’s alright sir, just sit still don’t move your head. I’m just going to apply pressure to the wound okay?” she murmurs, grabbing a cloth off another flight attendant and pressing it to the side of his skull.

“What?” Chris asks again, his vision clearing. “Sir, you’re bleeding,” she states, staring at him in confusion. She retracts her other hand to show the blood coated all over it. “Am I?” he asks, and his senses fully return to him, panic gripping him as he feels his blood trickling past his ear, dripping everywhere on his seat, a strange throbbing in his skull. He bolts out of his seat, shoving past the attendant and dashes down the lane to lock himself in the bathroom.

In record time, someone’s banging on the door, urging him to come out so he can be tended to, and that he’s bleeding severely and should seek medical help. Chris ignores them and stares at himself in the mirror. He’s been shot. He dips a shaking hand into the blood oozing out of his skull, retching at its stickiness.

“What the fuck?” he wheezes, stumbling forwards to support his quivering self on the sink, nausea slamming into him. He retches again, leaning forwards into the sink, preparing for the vomit. Nothing comes though, and when he looks up into the mirror again, suddenly he’s just staring at himself – tired, trembling with fear, but nothing much else.

His hand zooms up to his head again, but there’s no blood. There’s no bullet wound. Just him. “What the actual fuck?” Chris repeats again, groaning and slamming his forehead into the mirror (A/N: Please help me, I actually don’t think there are bathroom mirrors on planes but just fckn pretend there is because it was necessary). Eventually, he scoffs and pushes himself up, fixing his hair to make it look a little less ruffled.

“That’s fucking new,” he growls, glaring at himself in the mirror, then up above, as though he’s blaming a higher entity for his suffering. He takes a deep breath and finally notices that the knocking on the bathroom door has stopped, and instead he can hear panicked whispers. “I don’t understand, where did the blood go? My hand was covered in blood, where did it-” “No, I know I saw it, I gave you the cloth to-”

Chris unlocks the bathroom door and swings it open, staring at the flight attendants with a hesitant grin, “Sorry ladies, did you need the bathroom?” Their jaws fall open in shock at the sight of him, unwounded, unphased. “No you- your head was bleeding badly just a second ago,” One of them stutters. Chris frowns and stares at them like they’re insane, then steps out of the bathroom and closes the door slowly, “I… think I’d know… if my head was… bleeding. Are you guys okay?”

They blink at him, stunned. Then clear their throats nervously and turn to stare at each other before muttering, “Do you think we’re just tired?” Chris shrugs, gives them a little bow and turns away to return to his seat. Behind his back, they continue to talk, “How can we both possibly hallucinate the same thing though?” “I don’t understand.” “Let’s just… yeah let’s go rotate… I think we need more sleep.”

He’d always wondered what would happen if you were ever to leave his side. He’d never figured out whether the suicidal connections stopped because of you, or if it was purely coincidental. If there was any silver lining to this situation, it would be that he now knows that he needs you. He wants you and he needs you. Please. Come back to him.

Chris gulps as he drags his suitcase to a stop in front of your family home, double-checking the address on his phone. His heart is beating frantically, and he can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement. The sun is warm on his back, but at the same time it prickles his skin, sizzling it with an uncomfortable anticipation.

Slowly, he meanders his way up the driveway, admiring the red and yellow kangaroo paw framing its outline. It’s almost a relief when he steps under the shade of the front patio, welcoming the protection from the sun. After a steadying breath, he presses his finger to the doorbell, head tilting at the sound of it ringing from inside. There’s some muted shuffling, brief yelling and then the door clicks open. Standing in the doorway is someone who isn’t you but could basically be a duplicate of you.

Her hair through to her eyes, height through to her smile; it’s so shockingly similar to yours that Chris almost breathes your name. Eventually, his mind corrects itself and he notices the wrinkles lining her expression, the mole on the wrong spot, the different jawline.

He’s just met your mother.

“Hi, are you alright? Can I help you?” she asks, blinking at him through the screen door. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but as he thinks over it, he probably should have expected it. He hadn’t prepared himself to come face to face with one of your parents. Her eyes flicker over the backpack and suitcase behind him, and she squints, an idea formulating in her mind.

“You’re… Christopher right?” she frowns, just as he opens his mouth to introduce himself. “I’m- yes- I’m- yeah that’s me…” he responds, his voice feebly dying in his throat. Your mother swivels around on her heels and calls over her shoulder.

“Noah honey, Chris is here can you pop the kettle on!?” Then with a swift click, she unlocks the screen door and swings it wide, smiling gently at Chris. “Who’s here?!” Noah yells back, and your Mum rolls her eyes. “Christopher! Y/N’s boyfriend!” she shakes her head and returns her attention to Chris, who’s standing frozen, a little confused and disoriented, “Sorry about the yelling love, come in, come in.”

Chris fumbles for his suitcase behind him, but your Mum gestures again, “Oh don’t worry about that, I’ll grab that. You just make yourself at home.” Chris hesitates but catches a familiar glimmer in her eyes and thinks better of it.

Once inside, he takes note of the shoes gathered neatly by the corner and takes his own off before leaving the inside doormat, carefully placing them to the side. “Just walk straight through to the living room, my husband will bring you a coffee-”

Chris swivels around and opens his mouth to explain that he doesn’t drink coffee, or tea, but your Mum slaps her forehead in realisation and chatters on, “Oh dearie me, you don’t drink coffee do you love? NOAH!” “Yeah?!” “Have we got any pineapple juice in the fridge?!” she yells again, and Chris can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed at being stuck in the middle of a conversation being yelled across the house.

And… how did she know about… pineapple juice being one of his favourites…

“My name’s Kiara love, Kia works fine though,” she explains, dragging his suitcase inside and shutting the door with her foot. “I don’t mean to intrude-” Chris begins, hands tightening on his bag straps. “Oh nonsense my dear boy. You’ve won me some money,” she waves at him, squeezing past and leading him into the lounge room where Noah is setting a glass of pineapple juice and a hazelnut croissant on the coffee table.

“That’s not how you should be welcoming him, Ki,” Noah scoffs, eyeing his wife pointedly, “There’s no need to involve our bets. Leave the poor man alone.” “This poor man has his priorities straight,” Kiara scoffs back, rolling Chris’ suitcase to a stop beside the couch, then shuffling over in her fluffy grey indoor slippers to take his bag off him. Chris doesn’t really want to know what the bet is about. He could probably guess, so instead he stares at Kiara’s slippers, bewilderment melting into embarrassment.

“Are those… Wolfchan-” he begins as Kiara plonks his bag down next to his suitcase. “Hm? These?” she asks, lifting a foot up, “Yeah. I bought them for Y/N years back, but then she left, forgot to pack these and then said I could use them because we’re the same size. They’re super comfy too.”

Chris’ heart falters at the mention of your name, and Noah seems to notice this, for he pats the couch next to him with a small smile. Chris slowly sits down and accepts the pineapple juice, taking a tiny sip. “If you have anything to say son, then you’re welcome to. However, I’ll just point out that there’s no need to introduce yourself or explain why you’re here. Y/N told us everything.”

Chris nods and takes a deep breath, eyeing the hazelnut croissant with disdain. Did they know about the significance of that croissant too? Looking at it makes his heart ache. “I can’t… I can’t lose her,” he eventually breathes, and Kiara sits down on his other side. “We know sweetie… and I think it’s quite admirable that you’ve flown all this way to find her,” she nods, placing a tentative hand on his back.

“Yeah well… I had no choice she wouldn’t- she’s not answering my calls… or my messages,” Chris sets the glass down and urges himself to not cry. No crying, especially not in front of your parents. Enough. “At least she didn’t block you. It’s a sign that she hasn’t completely let go yet either, so just try your hardest son. I know my daughter is stubborn, she gets that from me unfortunately, but if you try hard enough…” Noah rambles, his hands wildly gesturing, but eventually lapses into silence.

“Where is she?” Chris eventually asks, dreading the question. He resents the way it sounds coming out of his mouth, broken and vulnerable. He resents that every time he has asked, he’s come up short, people telling him they know nothing, or she’s not here. He resents having to ask the question at all.

“She’s out with Oliver right now, but she’ll be home soon, don’t worry,” Kiara chirps, rubbing his back comfortingly. “The dog Kiara. The dog. She’s taken Oli, our Aussie Shepherd, out for a walk,” Noah adds, and Chris can’t help but crack a small smile as Kiara rolls her eyes and Noah continues, “What’re you trying to do? Spark a fight out of jealousy? Oliver’s a dog, not a human.”

“Oh give it a rest honey, I’m sure Chris doesn’t get jealous that easily.” Chris picks up his drink again and takes a generous sip, deciding it better to let Kiara believe that to be true. He does, sometimes… get jealous.

“Now, I know you love our girl. That much is obvious,” Noah grins, “But I want to know why you need her in your life.” Chris frowns at the question, his hand digging into the holes of his ripped jeans, and at his confusion, Noah elaborates, “You can love someone, but still let them go, simply because you do love them. I want to know why you love her and need her in your life.”

He thinks he understands the question now, and before he can even think his mouth is spilling words. “She makes me happy. I know my career is rough, it’s chaotic, it’s strenuous. But the days that I do get to see her are the best days of my life. She’s never expected anything of me. She’s never held me in high regard just because I’m an idol. She sees me as me. I’m just Chris to her.

“Sometimes I look at her, and I can see snippets of myself – the way she treats her customers, the way she tackles her work, the way she loves. And I- she gives me a reason to love myself. Through loving her, I’m learning to love myself. I feel loved, when I’m with her. And the world is okay. It’s full of love. And suddenly I want all this love to go to her.

“Her smile makes me smile. Her laugh does that too. I’m never going to forget that look in her eyes when she’s listening to me talk about my day. And now- I-” Chris can feel himself cracking, his voice breaking as he tries to continue, and a realisation hits him so hard that he has to stop talking. When he finally continues, his voice is barely a whisper, “And I would do anything in the world to see her smile and her eyes and even her attitude… replicated in our kids. But I can’t- they won’t exist if she doesn’t- if I can’t-”

Chris takes a shuddering breath and stops himself. He’s not going to say anything else. If he continues he genuinely won’t be able to contain his emotions. “I think you should probably marry her first,” Noah smiles, “And you have our blessing for that.” Chris chuckles, the laugh escaping from who knows where. Thanks Noah.

“What do you mean our blessing, we hardly know Chris yet and you’re already saying they can marry?” Kiara frowns, and Noah sighs. “Kiara, my love. You were the one who bet on him trying to find our daughter, I thought you’d agree.” "Hold your horses, I was only kidding.” “You need to work on your timing, that was not a great time to kid.”

Chris is only half paying attention to their banter. His reason? He’s heard you, and now his brain is selectively tuning out your parents, instead fixating on the laughter in your voice. “Oli! C’mere boy let me take that leash off you hey?”

Chris slowly stands up, in a daze, and your parents quieten, watching as he progresses around the corner following the sound of your voice. When he sees you, he doesn’t know how he feels. Excitement? Fear? Trepidation? Relief? You on your knees, smiling as you unclip your dogs leash. You, so close, yet so far away, separated by a glass door.

Eventually, you look up. The surprise that flickers across your features at the sight of him standing beyond the glass door swiftly vanishes, replaced instead with a cold harshness. A look that makes him feel like he’s lost. He’s lost you. You drop the leash onto the outside table, then seem to contemplate him. When you slide the door open, Chris doesn’t know what to do, what to say, his rehearsed lines flying out the window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you seethe, sliding the door shut behind you forcefully. “I’m here for you,” Chris croaks out, and your jaw clenches. (A/N: Please tell me someone remembers this parallel. It hurts me.) “How did you even-” you pause and sigh in resignation, “Ashley.” Then with a final glare directed towards him, you stalk past, ignoring him as he mutters your name repeatedly.

Immediately, you notice the pineapple juice and untouched croissant on the coffee table (A/N: And this parallel, the croissant guys), but your parents are nowhere to be seen. “Can we talk? Please?” Chris asks, following you as you scoop up the food and drink and unceremoniously dump them in the kitchen. “Go home Christopher,” you scoff, rummaging around in a basket full of vehicle keys.

“Home? I am home.” “No, you’re not. You’re in my house.” “It’s technically your parents-” “I don’t give a shit about technicalities, you’re in my house and you’re not meant to be. Get the fuck out,” you hiss, your voice rising. Chris stares at you, his soul evidently shattering piece by piece.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice broken. “What’s there to understand?” you sigh, rubbing your forehead in frustration. “Why did you- why are you here, why did you leave… me?” “I broke up with you the way that I did so we wouldn’t have to go through this. I did that because- I said that I cherished you did I not? I didn’t want to go through this. This fight. This-” “Then don’t fight. We don’t have to fight, just come back to me.” You grit your teeth and brush past him again, scanning the dining table, looking for something, ignoring him.

“Why did you leave? I told you to not think about leaving under any circumstance, I said I would sort it out and I did. So why the fuck did you leave me? Why did you run? Why did you disappear? You left without warning, you left nothing behind. All I got was the worst fucking voicemail of my entire life and you expected me to just- live with that?!”

You breathe through your nose heavily and turn back to him, a fire burning in your eyes, “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight?” “I’m the one fighting here, I’m the one fighting for you. But I want to know why. Why am I fighting for you? I thought everything was fine. I thought-”

Finally, you crack, your voice exploding in a yell, “I LEFT BECAUSE I COULDN’T MAKE YOU CHOOSE BETWEEN STRAY KIDS OR ME!” Chris falls silent, staring as you pull out a chair and sit down, defeated. “I left because I knew you’d choose me. I knew you’d choose me over the career you’ve lost blood and tears for. And I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” Chris growls, his fists clenching by his side. “Yeah? Well I made it my decision to make.” “I can live, with both Stray Kids and you in my life. That is not a problem. There was no need to-” “Oh it’s not? It’s not a problem Chris?” you snap, standing back up and continuing your search for whatever… it is that you’re searching for.

“No! It’s not!” “Go back and watch your interviews. Go back and watch any fucking footage with you in it and it’s pretty fucking obvious that it’s a problem.”

You disappear down a hallway, and Chris speeds after you. After a brief knock on someone’s door, you push it open and poke your head inside. “Ry, have you got my bike keys?” you ask. “Who’re you fighting with? Is Chris here?” "Just give me my keys and go back to your game, god damn it. You got plans with my bike?”

Chris hears the jangling of keys and as you pull away from the door, a boy in his late teens peeks out, headphones resting on his shoulders. He blinks at Chris once, watching as you shove past him and out into the loungeroom again. “Hi. Nice to meet you Chris. M’name’s Ryan. Oh, and… a word of advice, never yell at a woman, it only infuriates them more.”

Chris grimaces and follows you outside again, trying to clear his head. “Look. Please. Just come back with me. Let me be yours again.” “Chris, I love you to bits. I love you so fucking much, but you need to let this go. You need to let me go. You can’t throw away your career, just for me.”

“You can love someone, but still let them go, simply because you do love them. I want to know why you love her and need her in your life.”

“I thought I was more than just an idol to you.” These words seem to strike your heart, and your hands fall limp at your sides. “You are…” you whisper, “Chris you are… you’re so much more than just an idol-” “Then why?” Chris whispers, pinching the fabric of his clothes.

When you don’t answer him, merely continue to stare, Chris continues at a whisper, tears beginning to pool at the bottom of his eyes. “I die. I’m dying. I will die over and over again, the longer you’re not by my side. The longer you-” “Then go die somewhere else.” (A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH - NAH SCREW YOU. THAT WAS FOUL)

The silence is profound. It’s so loud that it’s ringing in his ears. He’s trying to take in your deadpan expression. Trying to suppress his tears, the threatening urge to scream in fury. The desire to pull you into his arms and never, actually never let you go. And he’s processing your words, each second passing a stab to his heart. He thinks, perhaps, this has been the most realistic stab he’s ever felt. The most painful.

Chris of course, is not lying when he says he’ll die every day without you. Naturally, you don’t know that. And naturally, you don’t know how badly you’ve just hurt him.

“You don’t mean that…” he whispers, walking towards you, trying to reach you, “take that back, you don’t mean that.” You take a step back and shake your head, Chris’ arm dropping to his side, his tears beginning to openly flow down his face. The sight makes your eyes start to sting, your heart shattering at his broken form. You turn away and head back outside again. Chris watches your retreating figure through the haze of his tears.

“Y/N,” he cries, eventually following you outside as you jam a helmet over your head and swing yourself over a motorbike, “Y/N where are you going?” As soon as the helmet obscures your face, you’re crying, and it’s with every last bit of resolve remaining that you start the bike in silence, not wanting him to hear your sobs. “Y/N!”

Before he can reach you, you take off, leaving him standing by the front gates, his hands holding his face, his tears trickling through his fingers. Chris stumbles back into the wall and sinks to the floor, burying his head in his hands. After a couple of minutes, he looks up at the sound of people moving around him, and immediately wipes his face upon seeing Noah, Kiara and Ryan standing above him, sympathetic expressions on their faces.

“Let her cool off, talk to her again later when she’s back,” Ryan helpfully says, his hands entrenched in his hoodie. “She shouldn’t be cooling off on her bike, I’m worried for her. She’s a bit of speed demon isn’t she?” Kiara mumbles, looking out at the open gates. “She’ll be fine. I taught her how to ride, she’s not stupid,” Noah grumbles, pulling Kiara into a side hug. “People can do stupid things when they’re in pain.”

Ryan’s last words only make Chris break down again, and he curls tighter into himself. “Come back to me,” he sobs over and over again.

You find yourself pulling your bike up to park by the beach. That’s perhaps the fastest you’ve ever ridden, the wind louder than your thoughts, stinging your skin into numbness. You’re shaking by the time you get off your bike, and you actually have no idea how you’re still alive. The dried tears on your cheeks feel cold in the air.

After propping your helmet up on your seat, you meander your way towards the water, stripping yourself of your shoes and socks so you can feel the sand between your toes. You’ve no idea why you’re here, of all places. You just rode until you couldn’t feel your fingers anymore. Rode until your legs were stiff.

The beach is Chris’ favourite place, so why are you here? The sun’s already beginning to set, and you sink down into the sand, watching the waves creep up to your toes, tickling them gently, then retreat silently. So blue. So endless. So cold. So peaceful. You think, that if you could decide how you die, you’d like to die in the sea.

You’ve been out for hours, sitting at the beach until you can’t feel your limbs anymore. When you finally return home, it’s dark, and you’re shivering from the cold. Your parents have gone out tonight. It’s their monthly movie night, and you hardly doubt they’ll break tradition just because Chris is here. If he’s still here. Ryan will most likely still be gaming in his room, and Dennis is at Uni, so it’ll just be you and Chris really. If he’s still here.

As quietly as you can, you slip inside, staring in a daze at the places where you and Chris were just fighting only hours ago. It’s not until you walk to go put your keys in the basket that you hear him, breathing softly on the couch. He’s sitting up, like he was waiting for you to get home, and again your heart breaks, your hand flying up to your mouth to quieten your sob. They all must have been worried for you. It wasn’t sensible of you, to tear up the road on your bike when you’re not in the right headspace.

You pad over to him and sit down on the coffee table, watching as he sleeps, his face free of pain, hurt and sadness. Just peaceful. “Why did you have to follow me here?” you ask softly, resisting the itch to push his hair out of his eyes. You’re sitting there, in silence, for a few more minutes before Chris whines in pain. His forehead is crinkled, eyebrows knitted together, and his hand darts up to his scrunch his shirt, twisting it into a knot.

“I don’t want to- no- no no no-” he murmurs, and you move to his side immediately, whispering soothing words, falling back into a familiar routine. “Chris, hey, I’m here, it’s okay.”

Chris takes a shuddering gasp and his flash open, wild and panicked. He’s moving around too much that it makes it hard for you to grab at his shirt… and he’s drenched. You blink and perform a once-over. He’s drenched. How is he- he was dry just a second ago- “Chris.”

He’s gasping wildly for breath, his hair stuck to his forehead, curls flattened out. “Chris why are you- how are you-” you’re grabbing him in bewilderment, trying to find a part of him that isn’t soaked with water. In the next second he’s coughing out water, buckets of it spilling out of his mouth. You yelp and jump out of the way, skittering backwards on the couch, and Chris finally seems to register your presence.

“Y/N?” he gasps, swaying and clutching his chest in a panic, “I can’t- I can’t- I’m drowning-” he coughs, and you can only stare at him in confusion. Out of nowhere, he grabs your arm and yanks you into him, hugging you tightly, tears leaking from his eyes as he trembles around you, his clothes soaking yours, his hands frigid with cold. Oh how you've missed his hugs - missed him. Almost immediately, Chris’ shuddering gasps cease, and you swivel in his arms in surprise, watching as the water seeping his clothes fades into nonexistence, his hair miraculously dries, returning to its previously fluffy state.

“I’m so confused,” you bluntly state, eyes wide. “I’ll explain, I’ll explain. Just don’t… just stay with me.” You curl back into his embrace as he tugs you closer, hiding his face in your neck, inhaling your warmth and scent like it’s his life force. “Stay with me,” he murmurs again, tightening his hold around you.

To save myself the difficulty of writing ‘explanation’ dialogue, he explains. Right from the beginning, everything to do with his connection to suicidal Stay’s, and how you’re connected to them too. You remain silent the entire time, absorbing the information. When he’s done, still hugging you tightly, he falls silent, and you can sense that he’s nervous.

“I understand if you don’t… believe me…” he eventually murmurs, nuzzling further into your neck, “I don’t really believe it myself…” “I believe you,” you whisper back, hand reaching up to stroke his curls, tears forming in your eyes again, “I believe you, I do.”

And then you’re explaining how you heard his inner monologue that day, on that bridge. And then you’re hugging him tighter and placing kisses on his head through your tears. And now you’re apologising, over and over again and Chris is sobbing with you, but he’s muttering a different set of words.

“I love you.”

Do you return back to your Café after this? Yeah. Yeah you do, and Ashley is overjoyed to see the pair of you walking hand in hand up to the Café. How’s JYP doing? Oh he’s fine. Rethinking his life choices after Changbin and Jisung confronted him again, stopping him from ruining Chris’ career. Don’t worry though, JYP isn’t all bad – he removed the restrictions on Chris from seeing you, truly amazed by Chris’ dedication to you.

There won’t ever be a day where the world is completely happy with your relationship with Chris, but as long as you march through it together, work through it together, everything will pan out okay. Just ignore the haters, who are they to get in the way of something so pure? Something so valuable?

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

-> PART 7 　 -> Masterlist

youtube

A/N: Anyways, the ending was lowkey rushed, and I’m sorry about that – but it got harder to write the longer I wrote for. You don’t know how difficult it is to turn Chris into a sobbing emotional wreck.

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

Until next read!! - Kaisowoo

#bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #stray kids #skz #christopher chan bang #christopher chan #Youtube #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader

52 notes · View notes