✨ Welcome to the “Our Little Family” series masterlist! ✨

The Birthday He’ll Never Forget

One baby, Eight suspects, Endless chaos

Across the Ocean to You

First Halloween as a Family

A Berry Sweet Day

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: Fluff , Romance, Family, Emotional Word Count: 2,690 Summary: During a concert with Stray Kids, Bang Chan and his wife reveal their pregnancy through a heartfelt video featuring their baby’s ultrasound and heartbeat turning the night into an emotional, unforgettable moment shared with STAY.

The arena trembled with anticipation long before the lights went down.

From backstage, the sound was different deeper, heavier, like the walls themselves were humming with the energy of thousands of voices calling out the same name.

“Stray Kids! Stray Kids! Stray Kids!”

You stood just behind the curtain, the faint glow of stage lights flickering across the floor in front of you. The noise should have been overwhelming but tonight, it felt distant. Like your mind was somewhere else entirely.

Instinctively, your hand rested over your stomach.

Three months.

Even thinking it felt surreal.

“Hey…”

A familiar warmth wrapped around your hand, fingers intertwining with yours so naturally it made your chest ache. You turned your head slightly, meeting Chan’s gaze.

Bang Chan looked calm.

Too calm.

But you knew him.

You could see it in his eyes the nervousness tucked beneath the surface, the quiet storm he always tried to keep hidden.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah… just thinking.”

“About tonight?”

“…About everything.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your hand over your stomach. The corners of his lips lifted gentle, almost disbelieving.

“Me too,” he admitted.

Before either of you could say more, a loud voice cut through the moment.

“Hyung! Five minutes!”

Han’s voice echoed as he rushed over, breathless but grinning.

The rest of the members followed behind Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N each carrying their own mix of excitement and nerves.

And every single one of them knew.

They had figured it out faster than you expected. The small things. The way Chan hovered closer. The way you got tired more easily. The way he looked at you like you were something precious he was afraid to break.

When you told them, it had been chaos.

Crying. Shouting. Hugging.

“I still can’t believe it,” Changbin said now, crossing his arms dramatically. “We’re going to be uncles.”

“You say that every five minutes,” Seungmin muttered.

“And I’ll keep saying it.”

Felix stepped closer to you, his voice soft. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good,” you said honestly. “Just… nervous.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “About the concert?”

You hesitated.

“…Not just that.”

They all understood immediately.

Because tonight wasn’t just a concert.

Tonight was the night.

Chan straightened slightly, slipping into leader mode. “We stick to the plan, yeah?”

Everyone nodded.

Minho smirked. “Relax. We’ve got it.”

Chan exhaled quietly. “…I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what?” Jeongin asked.

Chan glanced at you.

“…How they’ll react.”

You squeezed his hand.

“They’re going to love it.”

The concert exploded to life.

Lights. Music. Screaming.

From backstage, you watched through the monitors as the members owned the stage completely every movement sharp, every note filled with emotion. The crowd responded to everything, their energy feeding into the performance like a living, breathing thing.

But beneath it all, there was something else waiting.

A moment tucked carefully into the setlist.

A secret.

Halfway through the concert, the lights dimmed.

The members gathered together, catching their breath as the cheers continued to roar.

Chan stepped forward, lifting his mic.

“STAY…”

The response was immediate loud, unwavering.

He smiled, softer now.

“We’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began. “About how much you mean to us. How you’ve been with us through everything.”

The others nodded beside him.

“And… we wanted to share something special with you.”

The crowd shifted curious, expectant.

Han leaned in. “Like… really special.”

Changbin added, “We’ve been planning this for a while.”

Your heart started pounding.

Backstage, your hands clasped together, pressing lightly against your stomach.

Chan took a breath.

“We made something for you.”

He gestured behind him.

The screen lit up.

It began with memories.

Old clips. Practice rooms. Laughing, arguing, creating. Moments from years of growing together with STAY always there beside them.

The crowd softened, watching.

Then the clips shifted.

More personal.

Quieter.

Moments off stage.

And then

You.

Just small glimpses at first.

Sitting beside Chan. Laughing in the background. Existing in their world.

The crowd reacted gently recognition, warmth.

Then the video changed again.

You and Chan sat together on a couch, both looking nervous.

“So…” Chan started, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled. “You’re the one who wanted to say it.”

He exhaled, then looked directly at the camera.

“We have something we want to tell you.”

Your hand slipped into his.

“I’m pregnant.”

For a split second.

Silence.

Then the arena erupted.

Screaming. Crying. Shock. Joy.

On stage, everything broke into chaos.

Han doubled over.

Felix covered his mouth.

Hyunjin blinked back tears.

Changbin shouted something incoherent.

Jeongin looked completely overwhelmed.

Even Minho’s expression softened.

And Chan…

He couldn’t move.

Then, the video didn’t end.

Instead, the screen faded into something softer.

A faint sound filled the arena.

Thump… thump… thump…

The crowd quieted instantly.

The image appeared.

Grainy. Black and white.

An ultrasound.

A collective gasp rippled through the venue.

Backstage, your breath hitched.

Your hand flew to your stomach, fingers trembling slightly.

On stage, Chan stared.

Completely still.

The tiny figure moved faintly on the screen.

And the heartbeat echoed louder.

Thump… thump… thump…

Your voice, soft and emotional, played over it.

“That’s the heartbeat…”

The reaction this time was different.

Deeper.

People cried openly, hands covering mouths, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment.

Another clip followed clearer.

The doctor’s voice faint in the background.

Chan’s voice cut through, fragile and amazed.

“…That’s our baby?”

“Yeah,” you answered gently.

On stage, Chan let out a shaky breath, his eyes shining under the lights.

The heartbeat continued.

Filling the entire arena.

The video shifted again.

This time, Chan sat beside you in the clinic, holding your hand tightly.

“You’re really there, huh…” he whispered, leaning slightly closer.

You laughed softly. “They can’t hear you yet.”

“I know but…” he hesitated, then leaned closer anyway.

“…Hi.”

The crowd laughed through their tears.

Han groaned into his mic. “He practiced that, I swear.”

“I did not!” Chan protested weakly.

“Yes you did!”

The warmth returned but the emotion stayed.

One final ultrasound filled the screen.

No voices.

Just the heartbeat.

Thump… thump… thump…

Then words appeared:

“We can’t wait to meet you.”

The screen faded to black.

Silence.

Then the loudest cheer of the night.

It shook everything.

Chan lowered his head briefly, collecting himself, before lifting the mic again.

“…That,” he said, voice thick with emotion, “is our baby.”

The crowd roared.

Felix wiped his tears. “I’m not okay.”

“Same,” Jeongin muttered.

Hyunjin smiled softly. “They’re already so loved.”

Seungmin nodded. “More than they’ll ever know.”

Minho crossed his arms. “They’re going to be spoiled.”

“By you?” Changbin teased.

“Especially by me.”

Han pointed to the crowd. “And them.”

Another wave of cheers answered instantly.

Chan turned his head.

Looking for you.

Finding you.

Without hesitation, he reached his hand out.

And this time, You stepped forward.

The moment you walked on stage, the crowd exploded again but softer somehow. Warmer. Fuller.

Chan met you halfway, pulling you into his arms without a word.

You could feel his heartbeat.

Fast.

Strong.

Real.

“You okay?” he whispered.

You nodded against him. “They love you.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “They love us.”

The members gathered around, forming a circle.

A family.

Chan took your hand, lifting it slightly.

“Everyone…” he said, voice steady despite everything.

“This is our next chapter.”

The lights softened.

The crowd continued cheering but beneath it was something deeper.

Support.

Love.

Acceptance.

And as you stood there his hand in yours, your other hand resting over your stomach, surrounded by the people who meant everything. You realized something.

You had been so scared of this moment.

So unsure of how to share it.

But now?

You didn’t have to wonder anymore.

Because the answer was right in front of you.

Loud.

Overwhelming.

Beautiful.

A tiny heartbeat…

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Chaos, Married Life, Found Family Word Count: 2,690 Summary: A quiet night at home turns into pure chaos when a raccoon breaks into your house while Bang Chan is stuck late at the JYP studio with Stray Kids. Armed with nothing but a phone and a group chat full of unhelpful idols, you’re forced to survive a raccoon invasion, sock theft, and the realization that marrying Bang Chan means peace was never an option.

* I got this idea from someone on Tumblr, but I can’t remember their username. I thought I liked it and now I can’t find the post 😭 If anyone knows who it was, please let me know so I can credit them properly. *

The house was too quiet.

You didn’t notice it at first. It was the kind of peaceful quiet that only happened when your husband wasn’t home, no music leaking from his studio speakers, no random humming from the kitchen, no dramatic sighs because he forgot where he put his phone (it was always in his hand).

Bang Chan was at JYP with the boys, working late. Again.

You had waved him off earlier with a kiss and a teasing, “Don’t adopt any more trainees while you’re out.”

He had laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. “No promises.”

Now, hours later, you were curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, half-watching a drama and half-scrolling on your phone. A bowl of popcorn rested on your stomach.

And then you heard it.

A soft thump.

You paused the show.

Silence.

You frowned. Probably nothing. Old house. Pipes. Wood settling. Ghosts. Normal things.

You pressed play again.

Scrrrrraaaatch.

The popcorn bowl tipped as you bolted upright.

“That,” you muttered to the empty living room, “was not a pipe.”

Your eyes slowly drifted toward the hallway leading to the kitchen.

Another noise.

A faint clatter.

Like… something being knocked over.

“…Chan?” you called weakly, fully aware he was miles away.

Silence answered.

You grabbed your phone like it was a weapon and stood up, every horror movie you had ever watched flashing through your brain. You crept toward the kitchen, heart pounding so loudly you were sure whatever was in there could hear it.

The kitchen light was off.

The back door was

Open.

Not wide open. Just slightly ajar.

Your stomach dropped.

You were certain you’d locked it.

A cold breeze slipped in through the crack, rustling a paper towel on the counter.

And then you saw it.

Two glowing eyes reflected in the faint light from the living room.

Low to the ground.

Round.

Furry.

“…that’s not a cat,” you whispered.

The creature shifted, and the moonlight hit it fully.

A raccoon.

A very real, very chunky raccoon, standing on your kitchen counter with a loaf of bread in its tiny criminal hands.

You blinked.

It blinked back.

You both froze.

Then it hissed.

You screamed.

The raccoon screamed.

Chaos erupted.

You stumbled backward, slamming into the wall as the raccoon knocked over the bread bag and leapt off the counter with the grace of a furry acrobat. It disappeared behind the kitchen island.

“Oh my GOD. NOPE. NOPE. ABSOLUTELY NOT,” you shouted, retreating into the living room like the floor was lava.

Your brain, instead of calling animal control like a responsible adult, did the only logical thing:

You opened the Stray Kids group chat.

Wife 💍: Han Jisung I did not sign up to see your son in my kitchen.

The typing bubbles appeared instantly.

Jisung 🐿️: WHAT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

Changbin 🐷🐰: ??????

Felix ☀️: …why do I feel like this is about me somehow

Seungmin 🐶: I’m afraid to ask

Hyunjin 🎨: Is this a metaphor or

Jeongin 🦊: No I want to know actually

Minho 🐱: If this is about food again I’m not involved

Chan’s reply came last.

Chan ❤️: Baby? What’s wrong?

You typed with shaking fingers.

Wife 💍: There is a RACCOON in our KITCHEN It came through the back door It has BREAD

The chat exploded.

Jisung 🐿️: OH MY GOD IT IS MY SON

Changbin 🐷🐰: WHY DOES IT HAVE BREAD 😭

Seungmin 🐶: Lock yourself in a room. I’m serious.

Felix ☀️: Is it cute though

Minho 🐱: Do not let it touch the food Actually do not let it touch anything Actually just burn the house

Hyunjin 🎨: Take a picture??

Jeongin 🦊: HYUNG THAT’S NOT HELPFUL

Your phone started ringing.

Chan.

You answered immediately. “I want a divorce.”

On the other end, the sound of studio chatter went quiet. “WHAT.”

“There is a raccoon in our house, Christopher.”

“A what???”

“A raccoon. A trash panda. A furry burglar. It broke in and now it’s carb-loading in our kitchen.”

You heard shuffling, then Chan’s voice got more focused, leader mode activating. “Okay, okay. Are you safe?”

“I’m in the living room. It’s in the kitchen. I think it’s eating bread like it pays rent.”

“Lock yourself in the bedroom.”

“I have to go past the kitchen!”

“…Right. Okay. Do we have any sticks?”

“Why would we have sticks, Chan?!”

“In movies they use sticks!”

“This isn’t a medieval duel!”

In the background, you heard Changbin: “Put me on speaker.”

Chan didn’t even argue. Suddenly multiple voices filled your ear.

“NO,” you said. “I don’t need an audience for my wildlife encounter.”

Too late.

“Y/N!” Felix called. “Talk softly, animals respond to calm energy!”

Minho’s voice cut in, dry as ever. “That works on cats. Not raccoons with criminal records.”

“Can you see it?” Chan asked.

You peeked around the corner of the living room, just enough to see into the kitchen.

The raccoon was now on the floor.

With the bread bag.

It had somehow gotten it open.

Crumbs were everywhere.

“It’s… it’s sitting,” you whispered. “Like a little man. Oh my god it’s holding the bread with both hands.”

A collective “AWWWW” echoed from the studio.

“STOP FINDING IT CUTE,” you hissed.

Jisung shouted, “ASK HIM HIS NAME.”

“JISUNG.”

Chan groaned. “Focus, guys!”

“I am focused,” Seungmin said calmly. “Y/N, do not approach it. Raccoons can be aggressive.”

“Thank you, Seungmin, voice of reason,” you said.

“I read an article once.”

“Of course you did.”

Chan exhaled. “Okay. Slowly grab something to make noise. Like… pots? Maybe it’ll run out the door.”

You looked at the kitchen. Looked at the raccoon. Looked at your life flashing before your eyes.

“Fine,” you said weakly.

You crept forward, grabbing a metal mixing bowl from the edge of the counter closest to you, as far from the raccoon as possible.

It looked up at you.

You froze.

It stared.

You stared.

“…Sir,” you said softly. “Please vacate the premises.”

It shoved more bread into its mouth.

“Okay, rude.”

You banged the bowl with a spoon.

CLANG CLANG CLANG.

The raccoon jumped, dropped the bread, and bolted but not outside.

It ran past you.

Into the hallway.

Toward the bedrooms.

You shrieked.

“IT’S IN THE HALLWAY. IT’S IN THE HALLWAY. CHAN IT KNOWS WHERE WE SLEEP.”

“HOW DOES IT KNOW THAT,” he yelled back.

“I DON’T KNOW IT JUST LOOKED CONFIDENT.”

You sprinted after it on pure adrenaline, because somehow the idea of a raccoon in your sock drawer was worse than confronting it.

It darted into the laundry room.

You slammed the door shut behind it.

Silence.

You stared at the door, chest heaving.

“…I think I trapped it.”

Cheers erupted through the phone.

“You did so well!” Felix said.

“I raised her right,” Chan added proudly.

“You did not raise me,” you snapped, still shaking.

Minho asked, “Is there a window in there?”

“…Yes.”

There was a pause.

Then everyone yelled at once.

“OPEN IT.” “LET IT OUT.” “DON’T OPEN THE DOOR FIRST.” “WE ARE NOT PAYING FOR RABIES SHOTS.”

You slid down the wall, phone still pressed to your ear. “I hate this. I was just trying to eat popcorn.”

Chan’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve double-checked the door.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “But if I die, tell people I fought bravely.”

“You are not dying from a raccoon,” Seungmin said.

“Don’t jinx it,” Hyunjin muttered.

You stood slowly. “Okay. I’m going to open the back door wider, then open the laundry room door and run.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Minho said.

“It’s the only plan I have!”

“Wait,” Chan said. “Put us on video.”

“WHY.”

“In case”

“NO.”

But you did it anyway.

You propped the phone up on a table, giving them a shaky view of the hallway.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Operation: Evict Jisung Jr. begins now.”

“Please don’t name it that,” Jisung said.

You took a deep breath.

Opened the back door fully.

Cold night air rushed in.

Then you crept to the laundry room door… hand trembling on the knob.

“Three,” Chan said softly.

“Two,” Felix whispered.

“One”

You yanked the door open and bolted sideways.

A blur of fur shot out past your legs at lightning speed.

You screamed.

The boys screamed.

The raccoon sprinted straight down the hall and instead of going outside…

It ran into your bedroom.

The door swung shut behind it.

Silence.

You turned slowly to face the camera.

“I’m sleeping on the couch forever.”

You were standing in the hallway.

Your bedroom door was closed.

Behind it… soft thumping noises.

You blinked at the phone still propped up on the table, eight horrified idol faces staring back at you.

“…It chose violence,” you said faintly.

“Okay,” Chan said, already moving around on the other end. You could hear shuffling, chairs scraping, someone saying, “Are we done recording?” “I’m coming home.”

Behind him, multiple protests erupted.

“Hyung, we still have”

“Nope,” Chan cut in. “Emergency. Wife versus wildlife situation.”

“Take me with you,” Jisung said. “I need to meet my son.”

“You are not bonding with the raccoon,” Seungmin said flatly.

You dragged a hand down your face. “It’s in our bedroom, Chan. OUR bedroom. That’s where the clean laundry lives.”

“Okay. Okay. Breathe. Don’t go in there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it unless it starts paying rent.”

A loud thud came from inside the room.

You flinched. “It’s rearranging furniture. I just know it.”

Minho leaned into Chan’s camera. “If it ruins the mattress, burn it. The mattress, not the raccoon.”

“WHY IS THAT YOUR SOLUTION TO EVERYTHING,” you cried.

Felix looked deeply concerned. “Are you sure it’s not scared?”

“I’M scared, Felix!”

“That’s fair.”

Chan grabbed his keys. “I’m leaving now. Twenty minutes, max.”

“Fifteen if you speed,” Changbin offered.

“Don’t encourage traffic violations,” Seungmin said automatically.

You picked up the phone and carried it with you as you retreated to the living room, as far from the bedroom as possible. “I can hear it moving,” you whispered dramatically. “This is how horror movies start. Girl alone. Strange creature. Bedroom involved.”

Hyunjin nodded solemnly. “You do give final girl energy.”

“THANK YOU, wait.”

Another crash.

You clutched a throw pillow to your chest like a shield. “Chan, if it gets into your closet and chews your expensive black hoodie collection, I am not defending you when you cry.”

“I would never cry over hoodies,” he said.

Minho snorted. “Liar.”

TEN MINUTES LATER

You had not moved.

The bedroom had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

“I don’t like that it’s quiet,” you muttered.

“Maybe it fell asleep,” Jeongin suggested.

“IN MY BED??”

Jisung gasped. “It claimed the territory.”

“Stop helping,” you groaned.

Your phone buzzed with a new message in the group chat.

Chan ❤️: Almost there. Do NOT open the bedroom.

Wife 💍: I wasn’t planning to but now I’m curious if it folded the laundry

Minho 🐱: If it did, keep it

Headlights flashed through the front window.

You nearly cried with relief. “HE’S HERE.”

You rushed to unlock the front door before Chan could even knock. He burst inside, slightly out of breath, hair messy from running his hands through it on the drive.

He immediately grabbed your shoulders. “Are you okay? Did it touch you? Did you touch it? Do you have all your fingers?”

“Yes, Dad,” you said, but you melted into him anyway. “It’s in the bedroom.”

Chan looked toward the hallway like a knight assessing a dragon’s lair.

Behind you, your phone was still broadcasting. Felix sniffled. “Reunited.”

“Why are they still watching?” Chan asked.

“You put us on video,” Changbin said. “We’re emotionally invested now.”

Chan sighed. “Fine. Stay there. But if this ends up on the internet—”

“Too late,” Hyunjin said. “Jisung’s screen recording.”

“I AM NOT, okay maybe a little.”

Chan armed himself with…

A broom.

“That’s your weapon?” you asked.

“It’s long. It creates distance.”

“So would moving out.”

He pointed toward the living room. “Stay there.”

You crossed your arms. “I survived the first encounter alone. I’m coming with you.”

He hesitated. You gave him the look.

“…Fine. But behind me.”

Together, you crept down the hallway like the least qualified ghost hunters in history. Chan pushed the bedroom door open slowly with the broom handle.

The room looked… normal.

Bed slightly rumpled.

Closet closed.

Curtains swaying gently from the open window you’d cracked earlier that day.

And then—

Movement.

On the dresser.

The raccoon sat there.

Holding one of Chan’s socks.

Everyone on the call lost their minds.

“IT STOLE CLOTHING.” “IT’S NESTING.” “WHY THE SOCK.”

Chan blinked. “Is that my good sock?”

“You have good socks?” you hissed.

The raccoon looked at you both, completely unbothered, like you were the intruders.

It then proceeded to stuff the sock into its mouth.

“NO,” Chan said, genuinely offended. “That was a gift!”

You grabbed his arm. “Focus, Sock Father.”

He gently waved the broom. “Hey buddy… you gotta go. This is not an Airbnb.”

The raccoon hissed.

You both froze.

Chan slowly lowered the broom. “Okay. Aggressive tenant.”

From the phone, Seungmin called out, “Open the window wider and give it a clear exit path.”

“Right,” Chan muttered.

He edged sideways, never taking his eyes off the raccoon, and pushed the window fully open.

Cold night air flooded in.

The raccoon paused.

Looked at the window.

Looked at you.

Looked at the sock still in its mouth.

Then, with shocking audacity, it waddled across the dresser, jumped onto the bed, ran across Chan’s pillow.

You both screamed and launched itself out the window into the night.

Silence.

You stared at the open window.

Chan stared at the sock now abandoned on the bed.

“…It stepped on my face pillow,” he said weakly.

You burst into hysterical laughter, the adrenaline finally crashing. You leaned against him, half laughing, half crying. “We just got robbed by a raccoon.”

From the phone, applause erupted.

“YOU DID IT!” Felix cheered.

“Proud of you both,” Jeongin said.

Minho nodded. “Now disinfect everything.”

Seungmin added, “And maybe call someone to check the house for entry points.”

Jisung sniffed dramatically. “Goodbye, son.”

Chan walked over and shut the window, then turned to you, pulling you into a tight hug. He buried his face in your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “You owe me.”

“I know.”

“I’m picking the next vacation.”

“Done.”

“And you’re checking every door every night for the rest of our lives.”

“…Done.”

You tilted your head up at him. “Also, your sock is a biohazard now.”

He sighed. “It had a good run.”

Later That Night

The house smelled faintly of disinfectant.

Your bedroom sheets were in the wash.

You were both on the couch under a blanket, exhausted.

Chan had one arm around you, thumb rubbing absentminded circles on your shoulder. Your phone buzzed again.

Felix ☀️: Raccoon update?

Wife 💍: Evicted. Took a sock. No rent paid.

Jisung 🐿️: I’ll raise him better next time

Minho 🐱: There will not be a next time

Seungmin 🐶: Please buy better door seals

Hyunjin 🎨: Lowkey iconic night

Changbin 🐷🐰: Can we write a song about this

Chan ❤️: No.

Jeongin 🦊: Yes.

You locked your phone and snuggled closer into Chan’s side.

“…I really thought I was going to die by raccoon,” you mumbled.

He kissed the top of your head. “You were very brave.”

“I banged a bowl and screamed.”

“Exactly. Terrifying.”

You smiled sleepily. “Next time you work late, I’m going with you.”

“Deal.”

There was a pause.

“…We’re never telling my mom this story,” he added.

You grinned. “I already sent her a picture of the bread crime scene.”

Chan groaned into the couch cushion.

You closed your eyes, finally relaxing now that the house was quiet again, the normal kind of quiet.

“…Chan?”

“Hmm?”

“If we hear scratching again, I’m moving.”

“Fair.”

His arm tightened around you.

And outside, somewhere in the distance, a raccoon probably bragged to its friends about the nice house with the soft socks and free bread.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: Humor, Fluff, Domestic, Fantasy (with a touch of magical realism) Word Count: ~2800 words Summary: When Stray Kids accidentally turn into one-year-olds, Chan and Reader must survive 24 hours of chaos, laughter, and unexpected sweetness as the boys’ personalities shine through their tiny, mischievous forms.

The kitchen smelled faintly of something sweet and nutty, the aroma so inviting it made you almost forget the chaos of the morning. You had come over to Bang Chan’s apartment to spend a quiet weekend together, hoping to watch movies, maybe make pancakes, and just relax. But the “quiet weekend” was about to get… not so quiet.

Bang Chan was humming as he stirred a large pot of soup on the stove, his sleeves rolled up, a content smile on his face. “I think this batch will finally beat Felix’s ‘secret recipe critique,’” he said, grinning.

You leaned against the counter, rubbing your temples as you watched him work. “You really think that’s possible?” you asked, but your smile betrayed your amusement.

“Nothing’s impossible,” he said with mock-seriousness, tasting the broth and nodding. “If it’s not perfect, Lee Know will—” He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening as something caught the corner of his vision.

From the living room, a shrill squeal came, then another, and suddenly, there they were. Seven tiny, wobbly toddlers standing in a semi-circle, looking up at you and Bang Chan with curious, uncomprehending eyes.

You blinked. “Chan… did we just…?”

Bang Chan’s hand shot out to steady Lee Know, who had already started toddling toward the kitchen counter as if he had some grand plan. “I—I don’t understand,” Chan stammered, crouching down to Lee Know’s level. “They… they’re—”

“Babies,” you finished, voice a mix of disbelief and horror. “All of them.”

They were all babbling incoherently now, crawling and wobbling on unsteady legs. The personalities were still there—the mischief in Hyunjin’s eyes, the calm observation in Seungmin—but it was as if a veil of infantile thought had settled over them.

Changbin immediately tried to stack blocks, determinedly but clumsily knocking them over again and again. Han picked up a rattle and shook it with quiet fascination, eyes wide. Felix rolled a soft ball across the floor, cooing in delight, while I.N crawled after every movement with sheer curiosity.

Lee Know, ever the disciplined one, attempted to organize toys in a neat line—but kept toppling them with his tiny hands. Hyunjin, mischievous as always, crawled right into the middle of it all, causing a little chaos just for fun.

I turned to Chan, my hands trembling. “Chan, what do we do? There’s a note on the bowl… I think it says… ‘Effects last 24 hours.’”

Chan’s jaw dropped. “Twenty-four… hours? Are you serious?” He picked up baby Changbin, who was trying to stick a block in his mouth. “Okay… okay, we can do this. We just… take care of them until they revert. We’ll… we’ll survive.”

I knelt on the floor beside the babies, my heart already swelling at their tiny hands reaching out to me. “They don’t understand… they can’t talk… but their personalities…”

Chan nodded, gently picking up Lee Know, who fussed but soon relaxed in his strong arms. “Yeah. Still them… just… babies. This is… actually kind of cute, isn’t it?”

I glanced around as Hyunjin crawled into a pile of pillows, laughing at his own reflection in a nearby mirror. “Cute?” I muttered. “Chan, it’s chaos. Pure chaos.”

And yet, despite the overwhelming sense of panic, there was a warmth I couldn’t ignore. Seven babies, seven personalities, and Chan and I—somehow, this was already our little family for the next 24 hours.

I picked up baby Han, who was inspecting a spoon like it was the most fascinating object in the universe. “Hey, little guy.”

Han giggled, banging the spoon against a soft toy.

Felix tried to imitate him, stacking his toys instead. I.N crawled over and poked Felix, curious about the game. Hyunjin, seeing the interaction, crawled over with a mischievous grin, attempting to snatch I.N’s hand away.

Lee Know, still trying to organize, became increasingly frustrated as the others’ chaos unraveled his order. Changbin, oblivious to the mess, chewed on a teething toy with absolute focus.

Chan sighed, sitting on the floor with me. “We’re going to need… a LOT of patience.”

I laughed nervously, picking up a tiny cup for Lee Know, who promptly tried to balance it on his head. “This is going to be a long night…”

Chan smiled softly. “But kind of perfect, isn’t it?” He gently brushed a tuft of hair off Hyunjin’s forehead, who immediately clapped his hands and squealed in delight.

I realized then… it was going to be messy, chaotic, and exhausting—but it was also going to be full of laughter, love, and the strangest kind of bonding I’d ever experienced.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over what could only be described as the aftermath of a baby-storm. Toys littered every inch of the living room, bowls were scattered on the floor, and tiny footprints—some smeared with what you suspected was Han’s earlier protest—traced a path from the kitchen to the couch.

You groaned as you rubbed your temples. “Chan… I don’t think I slept at all. Did you?”

He leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “Barely. Seungmin decided my hair was a chew toy. I think I have permanent marks.” He gestured to his hair, which indeed had several strands stuck together with what you guessed was baby food.

Hyunjin had somehow climbed into the toy bin, his legs flailing and squeals of delight echoing. Lee Know tried to pull him out, grumbling and determined to restore “order,” but his tiny efforts only caused the bin to tip slightly, scattering plushies everywhere.

“Hyunjin!” Chan groaned, gently picking him up. “You’ve got two more hours until nap time, at least. We need to calm down.”

Hyunjin giggled, his baby brain clearly thinking this was a game. Chan sighed, rocking him gently. “Okay… fine. Maybe we can play game mode: calm babies.”

I crouched near the floor, watching the others. Changbin was in a deep battle with a stacking tower of blocks. Each time he succeeded in adding one, he would wobble back, glance at me, then shove the whole thing down in sheer determination. I couldn’t help laughing. “Still competitive, huh?”

Changbin looked up at me with bright, defiant eyes, like he understood, then went straight back to rebuilding and demolishing with renewed vigor.

Seungmin, the observant one, sat quietly in a corner, examining a set of colorful rings. He picked them up in order, stacked them carefully, then frowned when Felix attempted to knock them down. Felix, ever playful, rolled a soft ball toward Seungmin, giggling at the disruption.

“Felix, you little rascal,” I muttered, scooping him up. He looked at me, smiled, and immediately tried to poke my nose. Chan chuckled beside me.

Meanwhile, I.N had discovered the sheer joy of crawling after everything. Every movement from the other babies was an opportunity for curiosity. He crawled to Hyunjin, poked his shoulder, then tried to tug a plushie from Lee Know’s carefully arranged line of toys. Lee Know, frustrated but still trying to maintain composure, grabbed a soft block and gently blocked I.N’s approach.

Chan, ever the multitasker, had both Hyunjin and Lee Know in his arms, trying to maintain order. “I didn’t sign up for seven baby versions of them,” he muttered. “But… it’s kind of adorable?”

I couldn’t deny it. Watching them in these tiny forms—their personalities still shining through—was disarming. Han was humming softly, spinning a toy rattle with gentle curiosity, while Changbin stomped around with an exaggerated fury at a fallen block. Felix laughed uncontrollably at the chaos around him.

Feeding time was a challenge. Seven tiny mouths meant seven tiny tantrums. Lee Know insisted on holding his own spoon like a disciplined little gentleman, while Hyunjin tossed his food in the air, delighted by the flying bits. Changbin refused to eat until Han tried a bite—then he would copy. Felix and I.N were more interested in experimenting with textures than actually eating, and Seungmin patiently waited until someone offered him the perfect bite.

“Chan, we need a system,” I said, juggling a spoonful of mashed banana for Lee Know while Hyunjin tried to grab it.

Chan scratched his head, carrying two babies on his lap while bouncing another. “System… step one: survive. Step two… maybe feed everyone without getting covered in food.” He sighed, but his eyes were soft as he glanced at me. “We’re in this together.”

After the feeding debacle, nap time became the next battle. Somehow, all seven babies refused to sleep at the same time. Hyunjin and Changbin had developed a playful rivalry, crawling around and knocking down each other’s little forts. Lee Know tried to organize a corner of the room as a “nap zone,” but Felix kept crawling over the borders.

Chan and I split the room into zones, each taking a few babies. I sat on the floor with Han and Seungmin, gently rocking them. Han’s soft giggles filled the air as Seungmin leaned against my shoulder, finally calm.

Chan wrestled with Hyunjin and Changbin, coaxing them onto a pile of pillows. “You two are going to sleep whether you like it or not,” he said, though the grin on his face betrayed his amusement.

Meanwhile, I.N and Felix had found the pile of soft toys, laughing and rolling around, unintentionally creating a living mountain of fluff. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “They’re still them… just in baby form,” I whispered to Chan, who was now lying on the floor, watching Hyunjin attempt to climb out of the pillow fort.

“Yeah,” Chan agreed, a gentle smile on his face. “And somehow… it’s the perfect chaos.”

The afternoon passed in a blur of crawling chases, spilled snacks, and bursts of laughter. Each baby had moments where their old personality shone bright. Changbin’s determination, Lee Know’s sense of order, Hyunjin’s playful mischief, Han’s calm curiosity, Felix’s infectious energy, Seungmin’s quiet observation, and I.N’s pure curiosity—all wrapped up in tiny, pudgy bodies that could only giggle and squeal in delight.

By evening, the seven babies were finally winding down. Chan and I collapsed on the couch, exhausted but smiling. The living room looked like a miniature hurricane had passed through, but there was a warmth in the chaos.

“I can’t believe we survived today,” I said, gently brushing a strand of hair from Hyunjin’s forehead. He yawned and snuggled against a pillow.

Chan nodded, his hand resting on Lee Know, who had finally fallen asleep in his arms. “We did… and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much. They’re… perfect, in their own chaotic way.”

I smiled, leaning against him. “Just 24 hours, right?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But somehow… I don’t want it to end.”

And in that moment, surrounded by seven tiny versions of the people we loved, it was clear—chaotic, exhausting, messy, and loud as it was—it was also one of the most special days of our lives.

Night had fallen, and the apartment was dimly lit by the warm glow of the living room lamps. The tiny chaos machines were stirring again—hungry, restless, and ready to test every ounce of patience you and Chan had left. You rubbed your eyes, glancing at the clock. “We’re… almost there.”

Chan sighed, collapsing onto the couch beside you. “Almost there… but it feels like a lifetimes. Look at them.”

And indeed, looking around, it was almost miraculous that all seven of them were still intact. Lee Know, perched on Chan’s lap, had just figured out how to wiggle his way down to the floor without help.

Changbin, was on a new mission: exploring the kitchen. You darted forward, scooping him up before he could reach the stove. “Changbin! Danger zone!”

“I told you… relentless,” Chan muttered, gently rocking Lee Know to calm him.

Felix and Hyunjin were sprawled on the couch, fighting over a soft toy. Felix squealed as Hyunjin tried to take it, Hyunjin yelped when Felix pulled back, and somehow the toy ended up being thrown onto the floor entirely.

Chan and I exchanged glances, both silently acknowledging the bittersweet reality: soon, the chaos would end.

The babies were quieter than usual, almost as if they sensed it too. Lee Know sat neatly with his blocks, trying to organize them, but with a wistful look in his tiny eyes. Changbin stacked his blocks fiercely, but every so often, he glanced up at Chan and me, as if checking for reassurance.

“Feels like the calm before the storm,” I murmured, gathering Han and Felix into my lap. Han had discovered the softness of a blanket and clutched it tightly, while Felix tried to nibble gently on a plush toy.

Chan chuckled, rocking Hyunjin gently. “Yeah… a very loud, very chaotic calm.”

The first hints of change were subtle. I.N, who had been crawling around endlessly, suddenly paused and blinked. His movements slowed, and his tiny baby voice—the one he used to squeal in delight—seemed to vanish for a moment.

“Look… I think it’s starting,” Chan whispered, awe and concern mingling in his eyes. Hyunjin, in his arms, let out a small yawn, and then his limbs seemed to stretch, just a little, as if he were regaining his true form.

Lee Know’s hands shot out instinctively as his body grew taller and stronger, yet his gaze still held the innocence of the past day. Changbin, chewing on a teething toy, suddenly looked up with a triumphant grin as his body regained its original proportions. “I knew I could do it!” he babbled, his baby voice fading into his usual tone.

The reversions were gentle but dramatic. Felix bounced up from my lap, his playful energy restored tenfold. Seungmin, who had been quietly stacking rings, blinked in surprise as he returned to his older self, calm but slightly dazed. Han stretched and yawned, looking around at the room with wide-eyed curiosity, his baby innocence lingering just a fraction longer.

I.N scrambled to his feet, exhilarated, and immediately dove into Chan’s arms for a hug. Chan laughed, hugging him tightly. “There we go… all back to normal.”

The room was a mix of relief and laughter. Toys were scattered everywhere, remnants of the previous day’s chaos, but now they were just memories of the funniest, most exhausting day ever.

Lee Know immediately knelt to organize the blocks again, muttering something about “restoring order,” but even he couldn’t hide the soft smile tugging at his lips. Hyunjin, bouncing on the spot, laughed at Felix, who had grabbed a plush toy and was twirling it in the air.

Changbin, ever the determined one, came over to me and hugged my leg fiercely. “Thanks… for taking care of us,” he said, a mixture of gratitude and leftover baby adorableness in his tone.

Han walked over and gently touched my hand. “It… it was nice,” he murmured softly, echoing his quiet, gentle nature even after the reversion.

Seungmin, observing quietly, gave me a small, sincere smile. “We… we really appreciate it,” he said. His calmness after the chaos was grounding, like a soft anchor in the storm of the previous day.

Felix flopped onto the floor dramatically, pretending to be exhausted from the “baby duties,” and I.N laughed, kicking his legs up in mock exhaustion. Chan groaned beside me, leaning back against the couch. “We survived… and somehow, we all made it through intact. And I swear, they were cuter than ever.”

I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from Chan’s forehead. “They really were… tiny versions of themselves. But you know… it also made me realize how much I love them—and you—even more.”

Chan’s eyes softened, and he pulled me close. “Me too. This… this is exactly the kind of chaos I want in my life. With you. And them. Always.”

The boys, now back to their usual selves, gathered around us, some still giggling from the memory of the baby antics. Lee Know gave one last look at the perfectly rebuilt block tower before Hyunjin promptly knocked it over again, laughing.

“Some things never change,” Chan muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

I smiled, leaning against him. “Exactly. And honestly… I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As the night settled and the room quieted, I reflected on the past 24 hours. Seven tiny humans, full of mischief, curiosity, determination, and love. Seven little versions of the people I knew and adored. And through it all, Chan and I had been there together, surviving the chaos, sharing laughter, and holding onto the warmth of family.

Tomorrow, they would wake up as themselves, taller, wiser, and back to normal—but the memory of this day, the giggles, the baby hugs, the playful chaos—it would linger forever in our hearts. And maybe, just maybe, we’d all find ourselves laughing about it again when the next “unexpected adventure” came along.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (with Stray Kids + Baby Aria) Genre: Fluff · Family · Humor Word Count: 4,500 Summary: A simple strawberry-picking trip turns chaotic and cute when baby Aria, dressed like a tiny strawberry, becomes the star of the day.

Our Little Family masterlist

The drive out to the countryside was full of laughter. The van smelled faintly of coffee and sunscreen, with Felix’s playlist humming softly in the background — a mix of acoustic songs and random summer beats that made everyone hum along.

You sat beside Bang Chan in the passenger seat, Aria resting on your lap. Your daughter’s soft strawberry-patterned hat drooped over her little face as she babbled into her pacifier, kicking her chubby legs.

“Look at her,” Hyunjin cooed from the back seat. “She’s literally a strawberry. You two made a fruit.”

Changbin barked out a laugh. “Chan-hyung’s finally seen the fruits of his labor.”

That earned him a smack from Lee Know, who rolled his eyes but was clearly fighting back a smile. “That was terrible, even for you.”

Chan just chuckled, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other reached over to lightly adjust Aria’s hat. “She’s too good for all of us, huh?” he said softly.

You leaned in closer, smiling at the way his voice turned all gentle when he looked at her. “She’s probably wondering what she did to end up with seven uncles like this.”

“Hey!” Han protested from the back. “We’re the cool uncles.”

“Right,” Seungmin drawled, glancing up from his phone. “Because nothing says cool like losing to Minho-hyung in a strawberry-picking competition last year.”

“Hey, I slipped on mud!” Han argued. “You can’t hold that against me forever.”

“Sure we can,” Felix said brightly.

The teasing continued all the way to the strawberry patch — a big, sun-soaked field with rows of green and red stretching as far as the eye could see. Bees buzzed lazily between blossoms, and the faint smell of ripe strawberries hung in the warm air.

You stepped out of the van, adjusting Aria’s sun hat before strapping her into her tiny carrier on your chest. Her eyes widened as soon as the breeze hit her cheeks, and she let out a delighted squeal.

“Okay,” Chan said, clapping his hands once as everyone gathered around. “Team one: me, Minho, Bin, and Hyunjin. Team two: Lix, Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin.”

Hyunjin squinted at him. “Why do you sound like we’re about to go to war?”

“Because,” Chan replied seriously, “there is a war. A war for the biggest, juiciest strawberries.”

“Oh, this is happening,” Felix said, already rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s go, mates.”

Jeongin smirked, adjusting his straw hat. “You’re going down, Chan-hyung.”

“Big words for the baby of the group,” Changbin teased, slinging an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

As everyone split off into their teams, you found yourself following Chan’s group — mostly because Aria seemed fascinated by the rustling leaves and you didn’t trust her not to try to eat a strawberry vine.

Lee Know was surprisingly methodical, crouching low and inspecting every berry before picking. “You can’t just grab the first one you see,” he lectured Hyunjin. “You have to look for the bright red, evenly colored ones.”

“Bro, it’s a strawberry, not a diamond,” Hyunjin groaned, but he still followed Minho’s advice anyway.

Meanwhile, Changbin was already halfway down the row with his basket half full. “Efficiency!” he yelled proudly.

Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “I think Bin just declared himself CEO of strawberries.”

You watched as he crouched to pick a few berries himself, tucking one into the basket and another gently into your hand. “Try this one,” he said.

You bit into it — sweet, soft, sun-warmed. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

“See? Told you this side of the patch gets more sun.”

“Chan, we’re supposed to be competing,” you reminded him, laughing. “You can’t give me all the good strawberries.”

He shrugged, eyes sparkling. “Who says I can’t spoil you and win?”

Before you could respond, Aria let out a happy squeal, grabbing at the brim of Chan’s hat. He turned, pretending to stumble dramatically.

“Oh no, Aria, not the hat! The hat’s your appa’s only defense against UV rays!” he said, clutching his heart like he’d been mortally wounded.

Lee Know groaned. “I regret being on this team.”

“Liar,” Changbin said. “You love it.”

Minho didn’t reply — mostly because Aria had turned her attention to him now, stretching her little hands toward him.

“Oh no,” you teased. “She’s picked her next victim.”

Minho sighed, but you saw the corners of his mouth twitch. He took her tiny hand gently, and she giggled, grabbing one of his fingers with surprising strength.

“See?” Hyunjin said, smirking. “Even Aria knows you’re secretly soft.”

“Say that again and I’ll bury you in strawberries,” Minho replied without missing a beat.

Meanwhile, a few rows over, you could hear the other team arguing.

“Han, stop eating them!” Seungmin’s voice rang out.

“I’m taste testing!”

“That’s not what it looks like from here,” Felix called.

“Lix, back me up!”

“Sorry mate,” Felix said cheerfully, “but your lips are literally red.”

“I’m blending in with the environment!”

Jeongin was laughing so hard he dropped his basket, strawberries spilling onto the ground.

Back on Chan’s side, things were calmer… for about five minutes.

You had set Aria down on a picnic blanket you’d brought, surrounded by toys and a sunshade. She was happily babbling, occasionally grabbing a nearby blade of grass like it was treasure.

Chan crouched beside her, holding up a strawberry. “Look, sweetheart. This one’s just your size.”

Aria blinked up at him, then promptly stuffed her hand in her mouth instead.

“She’s not impressed,” you said, giggling.

“She’s got high standards,” he replied solemnly.

A few minutes later, while you were helping Hyunjin rearrange the baskets, a small gasp came from Minho.

“Uh, guys?”

You turned — and froze.

The picnic blanket was empty.

For half a second, your heart dropped, but then Minho pointed further down the row. “There.”

Aria, in her fluffy strawberry onesie, was crawling determinedly between the strawberry plants, her hat bobbing with each movement. She looked like a plump little berry herself, her red outfit blending perfectly with the field.

Chan blinked. “She’s… she’s blending in.”

Changbin burst out laughing. “Oh my god, our team’s got a real strawberry on the loose!”

Hyunjin already had his phone out. “No one move. I need a picture.”

Before Chan could go over, though, a voice from the other side of the patch shouted — I.N’s, bright and surprised.

“Uh… why is there a tiny strawberry baby crawling through our section?”

The entire field erupted into laughter.

You cupped your hands around your mouth. “Jeongin! That’s our daughter!”

He gently scooped Aria up, holding her out in front of him like she was the most fascinating discovery in the world. “She’s so tiny! Oh my god, look at her!”

Han immediately leaned in. “Bro, she’s got Chan-hyung’s eyebrows!”

“Hey!” Chan protested, walking over with a laugh. “Don’t roast my kid!”

“She’s not getting roasted,” Felix said, tickling Aria’s belly. “She’s getting adored.”

Aria squealed again, waving her arms as if she knew exactly how much attention she was getting.

Chan reached for her, but I.N hesitated, smiling down at her. “Can I carry her for a bit?”

You nodded. “Of course. She seems to like you.”

Aria grabbed Jeongin’s chin immediately, giggling as he made funny faces.

“Look at her!” he said proudly, bouncing her slightly. “She’s my little teammate now.”

“Oh, betrayal,” Chan joked. “My own daughter defected to the enemy team.”

“You snooze, you lose, hyung,” Han said, holding out a strawberry like a peace offering. “Here, Aria. If you join our team officially, we’ll get you all the strawberries you want.”

“She can’t even eat solids yet!” Chan laughed.

“Details, details.”

The entire group dissolved into laughter again, the field echoing with their voices and Aria’s delighted babbles.

And as you stood there — sun warm on your shoulders, strawberries gleaming around you, and the people you loved most laughing over your daughter — you thought there couldn’t be a more perfect kind of chaos.

Aria was still perched happily in Jeongin’s arms, giggling every time he lifted her high enough to see over the strawberry rows.

“She’s like the world’s tiniest supervisor,” Han joked, shading his eyes dramatically. “Watching over the harvest.”

“More like the mascot,” Felix added, grinning at her. “Team 2’s secret weapon.”

“Excuse me,” Chan said, raising a brow as he approached, “that’s our secret weapon. She’s Team 1 property.”

“You can’t claim a baby as property,” Seungmin deadpanned.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin called out, smirking, “this is a collaborative baby now.”

You laughed as Chan looked around helplessly, trying not to grin. “I can’t win with you guys.”

Minho, who was crouched nearby comparing baskets, spoke up calmly. “Actually, you can win — if your team finishes filling two baskets first. I say we make it a proper challenge.”

Jeongin perked up. “Ohhh, I like that. Losers buy strawberry smoothies for everyone at the café after.”

“Deal,” Chan said immediately, his competitive streak igniting.

You tilted your head at him. “You really want to go against Felix and Seungmin in anything food-related?”

Chan smirked, cracking his knuckles dramatically. “If I lose, I’ll… I’ll—”

“Change Aria’s diapers for a week?” Han offered mischievously.

“Deal!” everyone chorused before Chan could protest.

Your laughter rang through the field. “Too late now,” you said sweetly. “You agreed.”

Chan pointed at Han in mock outrage. “You’re evil.”

Han bowed. “I try my best.”

The competition began with a chaotic burst of movement. Both teams spread across the patch, baskets in hand and strategies forming on the fly.

Felix and Jeongin worked quickly, moving in sync like pros. “You pick, I sort,” Felix said, crouching low to inspect the clusters. “We’ll get the prettiest ones first.”

“Copy that, captain,” Jeongin replied, still holding Aria in one arm while somehow managing to grab strawberries with his free hand.

“Jeongin,” you called, trying not to laugh, “you can put her down if you want!”

But Aria was having the time of her life — babbling, grabbing at leaves, occasionally patting his cheek with her tiny hand.

“She’s my good luck charm!” he called back.

Across the way, Team 1 was… slightly less coordinated.

“Hyunjin, stop posing with the basket and pick something!” Lee Know barked, exasperated.

“I’m capturing the vibe!” Hyunjin protested, holding the basket like it was a designer accessory.

Changbin was already racing down the next row, determined to make up for lost time. “We’re behind! We can’t lose to Han’s big mouth again!”

Chan crouched beside you, laughing under his breath. “Why do I feel like this always happens?”

“Because you work with children,” you teased.

He smirked. “You say that like I’m not one of them.”

You gave him a side-eye. “Oh, you definitely are.”

“Fair.”

As the competition heated up, the boys’ voices carried across the field — teasing, laughing, shouting random updates like it was the final round of a reality show.

“Felix, that’s cheating! That’s our row!” Changbin yelled.

“There’s no ownership of strawberries!” Felix shouted back, his Aussie accent thickening as he ran off with a handful of berries.

“Han, stop taste testing!”

“I’m quality checking!”

Seungmin groaned loudly. “We’re going to lose because of you.”

“You say that like you don’t secretly love my company,” Han said with a grin.

“Incorrect.”

Meanwhile, Aria had become the day’s highlight. Everyone took turns holding her — partly because she was cute, but mostly because she was the only one who didn’t judge their strawberry-picking techniques.

When Minho picked her up, she immediately tugged on his hair. “Ah, so it’s revenge now,” he said dryly.

Changbin cracked up. “She’s gonna be fearless when she grows up.”

“She already is,” you said proudly, brushing a leaf off her strawberry hat.

Chan’s eyes softened as he glanced at her — that gentle look he always got when he thought no one was watching. You saw it though. You always did. The quiet awe, the love that seemed to anchor him.

“Hey,” you said softly, nudging him. “Don’t get distracted. You have a bet to win, remember?”

He blinked, then grinned. “Right. The diaper week’s at stake.”

Half an hour later, everyone regrouped at the picnic table by the patch’s edge. Two baskets sat side by side, both filled to the brim with strawberries so red and glossy they looked unreal.

Felix folded his arms confidently. “I think we crushed it.”

Lee Know examined both baskets critically. “Hmm. Team 2’s looks slightly better… but Team 1’s is fuller.”

“Quantity versus quality,” Seungmin mused. “Classic dilemma.”

“Let Aria decide!” Han suggested suddenly. “She’s the only one who’s unbiased.”

Jeongin gasped. “Genius.”

You blinked, trying not to laugh. “You want a six-month-old to pick the winner?”

“Exactly,” Felix said. “The purest judgment there is.”

They set both baskets in front of her on the blanket. Aria blinked, looking between them like she was genuinely considering her options.

“Okay, baby girl,” Chan said dramatically, crouching beside her. “Which one will you choose?”

Everyone leaned in as Aria reached forward… hesitated… and then grabbed a strawberry from Team 2’s basket, smushing it immediately in her fist.

A cheer erupted from the other team.

“YES!” Han yelled, punching the air. “Victory! We are the chosen ones!”

“Aria, nooo,” Chan groaned, pretending to fall backward. “You betrayed me again!”

You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “I guess you’re on diaper duty for the week.”

Felix clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, mate. You’ll live.”

“Barely,” Chan muttered, though he couldn’t stop smiling.

The rest of the afternoon mellowed into that kind of golden calm that only summer days have. After the official competition, everyone sat in the shade under a big oak tree, eating sandwiches and strawberries.

Felix had taken charge of slicing some for Aria — tiny pieces she could squish with her fingers. “There you go, bub,” he said gently, setting one in front of her.

She looked at it, poked it, then stuffed it into her mouth with a triumphant squeak.

“First official strawberry,” you said softly.

Chan’s smile was small but full of warmth. “She likes it.”

Han leaned back on his elbows, watching her. “She’s gonna love this place when she’s older.”

“She already does,” Hyunjin said, snapping another photo on his phone. “I’m calling this one ‘Baby Strawberry vs. The World.’”

Changbin grinned. “I still can’t believe she just crawled into the patch earlier. She’s fearless.”

You nodded, watching as Aria babbled happily, her cheeks flushed pink. “She’s curious. I think she gets that from her dad.”

Chan turned to you, mock offense written all over his face. “Hey, I’m not that curious.”

“You once took apart the coffee machine just to ‘see how it worked,’” Minho reminded him flatly.

Chan groaned. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Never.”

Everyone laughed again, the easy sound of friends who’d shared too many memories to count.

And as the laughter died down, Chan reached over, brushing his fingers against yours — a simple touch, but one that made your heart catch for a second.

“Thanks for coming today,” he murmured. “It’s… nice, y’know? Seeing her out here. Seeing everyone together.”

You smiled. “You mean seeing your daughter humiliate you in a strawberry contest?”

He chuckled softly, eyes crinkling. “That too.”

Aria let out a loud babble at that moment, as if to punctuate his words. Chan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, princess,” he said. “You win this time.”

You looked at the two of them — your husband with his messy curls and sun-warmed skin, your daughter with strawberry juice on her cheeks and her little hands still sticky from victory — and your heart felt impossibly full.

It wasn’t just another day out. It was a memory, one you’d hold onto for years.

The sun had started its slow descent by the time everyone packed up their baskets and blankets. The air was still warm, but the light had softened into that gentle golden glow that made everything — the leaves, the laughter, even the dirt under your shoes — feel like it belonged in a memory.

Chan carried Aria as you all made your way toward the small café near the entrance of the strawberry farm. Her little strawberry hat had slipped sideways, and her chubby cheek was pressed against Chan’s shoulder as she fought to stay awake.

“She’s gonna be out before we even order,” you whispered, smiling.

“She’s been supervising all day,” Chan whispered back with a grin. “Hard work, being the boss.”

Behind you, the boys were still bickering about who technically won the competition.

“I’m just saying,” Changbin insisted, waving his hands for emphasis, “our basket was bigger.”

Felix laughed. “And ours was better looking. Even Aria agreed.”

“Aria’s six months old!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “You can’t use her as a judge!”

Jeongin, who had been quietly holding the victory basket like a trophy, said, “You’re just jealous because our mascot’s cuter than yours.”

Lee Know sighed dramatically. “We’re arguing about fruit. Again.”

“Correction,” Han said, holding up a finger. “We’re arguing about victory.”

Seungmin snorted. “You mean about how you lost your self-control and ate half the strawberries we picked?”

Han gasped in mock offense. “Those were samples! I was doing research!”

“On what?” Seungmin deadpanned. “How to lose gracefully?”

The entire group erupted into laughter again, their voices echoing through the open space.

Inside the café, the cool air smelled like sugar and fresh pastry. The walls were decorated with photos of smiling families and, of course, strawberries — everywhere, from the wallpaper to the art.

You found a big table by the window while Chan went to order drinks. Aria had finally drifted off, her tiny hand clutching the edge of Chan’s shirt.

“She’s out cold,” Felix whispered, peering over your shoulder with a fond smile. “Poor bub had a long day.”

“She earned that nap,” you said softly, adjusting her hat. “First strawberry adventure complete.”

“First of many,” Hyunjin added, sliding into the seat across from you. “We’re totally doing this again next year.”

“You just want redemption,” Minho said.

“Obviously,” Hyunjin replied, grinning.

When Chan returned, he carried a tray full of smoothies — tall cups filled with pink, frothy goodness and topped with whipped cream. “Alright,” he said, setting them down one by one, “eight strawberry smoothies and one bottle of water for our little champ.”

Felix raised his cup first. “To the real winner of the day.”

Everyone turned toward Aria, who was still asleep in your arms, her tiny strawberry hat now a little askew.

“To Aria!” Han declared proudly, lifting his drink higher. “The tiniest, cutest traitor of them all.”

Chan laughed. “I feel so betrayed right now.”

You nudged him playfully. “She has good taste.”

“She gets that from you,” he murmured, giving you a sideways smile that made your chest warm.

As the boys dug into their smoothies — loudly debating which one of them was the “team MVP” — you let your eyes wander to the window. Outside, the sky was painted with streaks of pink and orange, the strawberry fields now quiet and shimmering in the fading light.

Chan followed your gaze, resting his elbow on the table. “You know,” he said softly, “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

You turned to him, curious. “What do you mean?”

He glanced down at Aria, then back at you, his voice gentler now. “Just… a day where everything slows down. No schedules, no rehearsals. Just us. You. Her. The guys being idiots.”

You smiled. “So basically… perfection?”

“Exactly.”

For a moment, everything around you seemed to quiet — the boys’ laughter fading into a soft background hum, the warmth of the café wrapping around you like a hug.

Aria shifted slightly in your arms, making a small sleepy sound before settling again.

Chan brushed his fingers over her tiny hand, careful not to wake her. “You know, she’s already got everyone wrapped around her little finger.”

“She’s your daughter,” you teased.

“Hey, I’m not that charming.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He chuckled softly. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Felix suddenly called out, breaking the soft moment. “Oi, Chan-hyung, you’re still on diaper duty for the week, right?”

Chan groaned. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Han grinned wickedly. “Not a chance.”

Seungmin added, “We could make a chart. Like a scoreboard.”

“Stray Kids vs. Chan’s Diaper Debts,” Hyunjin said dramatically, pretending to hold a microphone. “Coming soon to a reality show near you.”

Even Minho cracked a small smile. “I’ll design the poster.”

You nearly choked on your smoothie from laughing so hard.

Chan covered his face with one hand. “You guys are unbelievable.”

But even as he said it, you saw the corners of his mouth turn upward — that small, proud, fond smile that always gave him away. He wasn’t annoyed; he was happy.

The kind of happy that came from being surrounded by people who made life brighter, louder, and impossibly full.

By the time you left the café, the air had cooled and the crickets had started to sing. Aria was still fast asleep in her carrier, her tiny hat tilted forward like she’d fallen asleep mid-mission.

The boys walked ahead, still joking and arguing about who had picked the best berries, their laughter blending with the evening sounds.

Chan slowed his pace beside you, his free hand brushing against yours.

“You tired?” he asked softly.

“A little,” you admitted, leaning into him. “But it’s a good kind of tired.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

You both stopped at the edge of the field for one last look — the rows of green fading into the horizon, little glimmers of red catching the last of the sunlight.

“She’s gonna love seeing these photos when she’s older,” you said quietly.

Chan smiled, looking down at Aria. “She’ll probably laugh at me for losing to her.”

“She’ll probably say it runs in the family,” you teased.

He let out a small laugh, the sound warm and low. “Then I’ll take it.”

You stood there a moment longer, letting the calm settle between you — your fingers intertwined, the soft sound of the boys somewhere ahead, the smell of strawberries still lingering in the air.

Chan leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You know,” he murmured, “this might be one of my favorite days ever.”

You smiled. “Mine too.”

Aria stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, her small hand brushing against his shirt. He glanced down, his expression softening even more.

“Guess we made a good team today,” he said quietly.

You looked at him — your partner, your best friend, your husband — and then at your daughter, your little strawberry dream asleep against your chest.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “The best team.”

The path back to the van was lined with tiny lights, flickering like fireflies. Laughter floated ahead, Chan’s hand warm in yours, and Aria’s soft breaths steady against your heart.

The day had been messy, loud, and full of chaos. But it had also been perfect — a story you’d tell for years, every detail sweet as summer fruit.

Because sometimes, happiness really was as simple as a sunny day, a field of strawberries, and the people who made it all feel like home.

Pairing: Bang Chan × Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff / Family / Domestic / Romance Word Count: ~ 4.6k Summary: It’s their first Halloween as parents! Reader and Bang Chan prepare their one-year-old son in an adorable Mini Wolf Chan costume and navigate the chaos, laughter, and heartwarming moments of trick-or-treating in Seoul. From playful mischief to soft romantic gestures, this story captures the magic of family, love, and firsts — a Halloween night to remember for their little wolf.

Our Little Family masterlist

I never thought I’d spend my Halloween night chasing a one-year-old dressed as a tiny version of my husband’s alter ego — yet here I was, kneeling on the living room floor, trying to convince my son that the little wolf ears on his hood weren’t, in fact, trying to eat him.

“Chan, he’s pulling at them again!” I called out, laughing helplessly as our baby gave another fierce tug, his chubby fingers gripping the soft fabric.

From across the room, Chan looked up from where he was fiddling with the camera tripod. He had that look — the one he got when he was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. “Hey, mate,” he said, walking over and crouching beside me. “Those ears are part of your outfit, remember? You’re supposed to look like Appa!”

Our son blinked at him, his dark eyes wide and curious. Then, as if to assert his independence, he grabbed one of the floppy wolf ears and tried to stuff it in his mouth.

Chan sighed, but there was no hiding the fondness in his voice. “Yeah, that’s… close enough, I guess.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “First Halloween, and he’s already channeling your energy. Stubborn and cute.”

Chan shot me a grin. “So, the ‘stubborn’ part comes from me, huh?”

“Obviously,” I teased, straightening the tiny gray hoodie and trying to make sure the little Wolf Chan tail was secure. “The cute part’s mine.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Debatable.”

I turned toward him, smiling, but before I could say something witty, our son let out a high-pitched squeal and started crawling toward the basket of candy near the front door — the one we’d meant to hand out later. His little tail wiggled with every determined movement.

“Oh no,” I muttered, lunging after him. “No sugar for you, little wolf.”

But of course, he was fast. Faster than any one-year-old had a right to be. Chan laughed as I caught our son just before he could grab a shiny orange wrapper, lifting him into my arms as he squirmed and whined in protest.

“He’s got your determination,” Chan said, clearly amused. “You know, when you want something, you go for it — just like him.”

“Don’t you dare use my traits as excuses for his mischief,” I warned, though I was smiling. Our son babbled something incoherent, drooled a little on my shoulder, and then giggled like he’d just told the best joke in the world.

Chan’s phone buzzed on the counter. He grabbed it, glancing at the screen. “Hyunjin says the guys are doing a Halloween stream later. He wants me to send a photo of ‘Mini Wolf Chan’ first.”

I looked down at our son, who was now gnawing on the zipper of his costume. “Let me at least make him look somewhat presentable before your members turn him into a meme.”

“Too late for that,” Chan chuckled, snapping a quick photo anyway. “He already looks like a meme. The cutest one.”

He leaned closer to show me the picture — our little boy, messy hair sticking out from under his hood, one wolf ear bent sideways, holding onto my finger with his tiny hand. His smile was crooked, but it was pure sunshine.

“Okay, that’s actually adorable,” I admitted softly. “You should send it.”

Chan grinned. “Oh, I’m sending it to everyone. Group chat’s gonna lose it.”

As he typed, I took a moment to watch him — his focused brow, the curve of his lips when he smiled at the screen, the way his dimples appeared even when he tried to look serious. Sometimes it still hit me that this was my life. That the same man who commanded stages around the world now sat on our living room floor in a flannel shirt, trying to get the perfect angle of our drooling baby in a wolf costume.

He caught me staring and smirked. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said innocently. “Just appreciating the domestic side of Bang Chan.”

“Domestic?” He laughed. “You make me sound like an old man.”

I shrugged. “You do go to bed before midnight now.”

“That’s because he wakes us up at five a.m. every day,” Chan said, pointing at the baby, who had started babbling “Appa” over and over like a chant.

I leaned my head on Chan’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t trade it for anything, though.”

His voice softened. “Not for the world.”

We finally managed to get out of the house just after sunset, bundled in coats and scarves against the crisp Seoul air. The sidewalks were alive with color — kids in costumes darting between apartment complexes, parents chatting and laughing, the faint smell of roasted chestnuts drifting from a nearby street stall.

Our son sat in his stroller, wide-eyed, turning his head at every sound and light. His little wolf tail peeked out from under his blanket, and every time someone passed by, they’d stop to coo at him.

“Oh my gosh, he’s dressed as Wolf Chan!” a teenage girl squealed, pointing. “That’s so cute!”

Chan chuckled awkwardly, tugging his cap lower. “Yeah, uh… big fan,” he mumbled.

I nearly burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, you’re literally the inspiration.”

He shot me a warning glance, but his ears were red. “Shh, don’t blow my cover.”

The girl walked away, and I smirked. “You know, you’re terrible at blending in.”

“Hey, I’m trying. Can’t exactly trick-or-treat if people recognize me as Bang Chan from Stray Kids, right?”

“True,” I said. “We’re just a totally normal family, out for a totally normal Halloween.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, then grinned. “Even if our son is dressed as my mascot.”

I looked down at our baby, who had now fallen asleep in his stroller, his tiny fist clutching a plush pumpkin. “He’s pulling it off better than you ever did.”

Chan gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me?! I am Wolf Chan.”

I grinned. “Not tonight, you’re not. Tonight, you’re Appa — official stroller driver and snack holder.”

He laughed under his breath. “Fair enough.”

As the evening went on, we visited a few neighbors — mostly other families in our apartment building. They cooed over our son, slipping candies into the little bucket I carried (because, obviously, he was too young to eat them). Chan chatted politely, his Korean smooth and warm, while I mostly tried to keep our little wolf from drooling on his costume.

At one point, a small group of kids recognized Chan despite the hat and mask. One boy gasped, “Are you… Bang Chan?”

Chan froze. I could practically see the moment his brain short-circuited. “Uh—no, no,” he stammered. “I just… get that a lot. I’m, uh, Bang Chan impersonator.”

The kids giggled, clearly not buying it. One whispered, “He sounds just like him.”

I had to turn away to hide my laughter. Our son chose that exact moment to squeal, waving his tiny hand and shouting, “Appa!”

Chan’s face went crimson.

“Appa?” one of the kids asked. “Wait—”

“Okay, time to go!” I said cheerfully, steering the stroller down the sidewalk while Chan scrambled to follow.

When we finally rounded the corner, he exhaled dramatically. “I swear, our son’s gonna expose me one day.”

“He already did,” I teased. “You just got unmasked by a baby.”

“Traitor,” he muttered, leaning down to adjust the blanket over our sleeping boy. His expression softened again, all the fluster melting away. “He looks so peaceful.”

“He’s had a big night,” I whispered. “His first Halloween.”

Chan’s hand brushed mine as we stood there, watching our baby’s tiny chest rise and fall. “Our first as a family,” he said quietly. “Kinda crazy, huh?”

I looked up at him, the streetlights reflecting in his eyes. “The best kind of crazy.”

He smiled then, slow and tender. “You know… I used to imagine stuff like this, back when everything was chaos. Late nights in the studio, no time to rest — I’d think, ‘maybe one day, I’ll have something simple. Someone to come home to.’”

“And now?” I asked softly.

He squeezed my hand. “Now I’ve got both. Music and you. And this little guy.”

I leaned into him, heart full. “Sounds like a pretty good life to me.”

“Perfect, actually,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Even if my son’s already a better Wolf Chan than I am.”

By the time we reached the next block, our son had woken up again — because apparently, sleep was optional when there were shiny lights and strangers handing out candy. His wide eyes darted from house to house, his mouth open in awe as costumed kids shouted “trick or treat!” around us.

I bent over his stroller. “You ready to join the chaos, little wolf?”

He giggled, flapping his arms, which I decided meant yes. Chan grinned and handed me the tiny pumpkin-shaped candy bucket we’d bought earlier. It was more for show than function, but somehow, just holding it made me feel like a kid again.

“Okay, who’s saying it first — you or me?” I teased.

Chan tilted his head. “You think I’m gonna make you do all the work? I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I laughed. “I’ve never seen you trick-or-treat before.”

“Because I didn’t really get to as a kid,” he said simply, glancing down the street. “We didn’t do it much in Australia. But hey—” He turned to our son, crouching to his level. “—tonight, we’re doing it properly, yeah, mate?”

Our son babbled something that sounded suspiciously like “boo!” and Chan’s face lit up like he’d just won an award.

“That’s my boy,” he said proudly, standing up and looking at me. “See? Already got the Halloween spirit.”

“Or he’s just making random noises,” I teased.

“Let me dream,” he shot back with a grin.

The first door we approached had a pumpkin on the porch and fake cobwebs draped over the railing. A sweet-looking grandmother opened it, smiling wide when she saw the stroller.

“Oh! How adorable!” she cooed. “A little wolf!”

Chan chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, his first Halloween.”

“And such proud parents,” she said, handing over two chocolate bars and one lollipop. She winked. “For you two, since I don’t think the little wolf can eat these yet.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to laugh at Chan’s expression — a mix of flattery and mild embarrassment. He clearly wasn’t used to being called “Dad” by strangers.

We moved on, collecting a few more candies along the way. Chan waved at other families, chatting easily, his Korean warm and familiar. I loved how effortlessly he could connect with people — humble and genuine, even outside the stage lights.

At one point, a little boy dressed as a vampire came up to our son and said, “You’re a puppy!”

Chan laughed. “Close enough.”

Our son clapped, proud of himself, and the vampire boy offered him a piece of candy from his own bucket. Of course, our son tried to eat the wrapper immediately.

“Appa reflexes—go!” I said, and Chan swooped in just in time to stop the disaster.

“Caught you, mate,” he said, scooping him up. “You’re lucky your mum’s watching your every move.”

“Teamwork,” I said, giving him a high five.

Our son, fascinated by the motion, slapped Chan’s hand too. It made Chan beam like it was the best high five in history.

“Did you see that?” he said, looking at me as though our one-year-old had just learned calculus.

“He’s a genius,” I deadpanned.

“The smartest,” Chan agreed solemnly, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

A few streets later, we found ourselves walking through one of those little residential alleys lined with fairy lights. The night was cooling down, and Chan had tucked a blanket around our son, who now sat quietly with his thumb in his mouth, eyes heavy but still curious.

“Okay, he’s definitely fading,” I murmured. “We should probably head home soon.”

Chan nodded, looking down at him fondly. “Yeah, but I kinda don’t want the night to end yet.”

“Why’s that?”

He smiled. “It’s just… nice. You, him, no schedule. No cameras, no pressure. Just—this.”

I reached for his hand. “You make me sound like your personal holiday.”

“Maybe you are,” he said softly. “You and him — my favorite time off.”

My heart melted a little. I squeezed his hand, opening my mouth to say something sweet in return—

—but of course, that’s when someone shouted, “Bang Chan!”

Chan froze mid-step. His head turned slowly, like maybe if he moved slowly enough, it wouldn’t be him they were yelling at.

Two university girls were hurrying over, eyes wide. “Oh my God, it is you!” one said, breathless. “We almost didn’t recognize you, but your voice—!”

He smiled sheepishly. “Ah, hi—sorry, I was trying to, uh, blend in tonight.”

The second girl pointed at our son. “Is that… Wolf Chan?!”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Mini version,” I said.

Chan crouched a little beside the stroller, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, this is my little guy. His first Halloween.”

The fans’ faces softened instantly. “He’s so cute,” one whispered. “You’re such a good dad.”

Chan’s ears turned bright red. “Ah—thank you. We’re just having some family time, so—”

They nodded quickly, understanding. “Of course! Sorry for interrupting. Can we just—say hi and go?”

“Of course,” Chan said, giving a polite bow. “Thanks for being kind.”

As they walked off, one of them whispered (not quietly enough), “He’s even hotter as a dad.”

Chan groaned quietly. “I heard that.”

I laughed so hard I had to grip the stroller for balance. “They’re not wrong.”

He glared playfully. “Et tu, wifey?”

I grinned. “What? You are a hot dad. Own it.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

By the time we got home, our baby was out cold, his tiny wolf hood half covering his face. I gently lifted him out of the stroller while Chan locked the door. We took him upstairs together — a quiet little dance we’d learned over the past year — one of us carrying him, the other turning on the nightlight, making sure the bottle was ready.

Chan tucked him into his crib, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Goodnight, little wolf,” he whispered. “Appa loves you.”

I stood beside him, heart full. “He had fun tonight.”

“Yeah,” Chan said softly. “You should’ve seen his face when that vampire kid gave him candy. He looked like he just discovered magic.”

I smiled. “He kinda did. Halloween’s a pretty magical thing when you’re little.”

Chan turned to me then, his voice low. “Still feels pretty magical to me.”

For a second, neither of us moved. The room was dim and quiet except for the faint sound of our son’s breathing. Chan’s fingers brushed mine, slow and gentle, and then he led me out, closing the nursery door behind us.

The living room was warm and cozy when we came back down. The candy bucket sat on the counter, filled to the brim, and Chan flopped onto the couch with a sigh.

“I don’t know how parents do this every year,” he said, throwing his arm over his eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

I sat beside him, curling into his side. “Because it’s worth it. Look at him — he’s gonna remember the photos when he’s older. His first Halloween as Wolf Chan Junior.”

Chan chuckled. “Should I be worried he’s gonna take over my brand?”

“Please. He already has. You’ve been dethroned.”

He opened one eye to look at me. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

“Immensely.”

He smirked, reaching over to pull me closer. “You know, you looked pretty cute tonight too.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? When I was wiping drool off his chin?”

“When you were smiling at him like that,” he said simply. “You’re such a good mum. It makes me fall in love with you all over again.”

The sincerity in his tone made my heart flutter. “Chan…”

He smiled softly, brushing his thumb against my cheek. “I mean it. You make everything feel… right.”

I leaned forward, kissing him gently — a soft, slow kiss that tasted like chocolate and warmth. His hand slipped around my waist, pulling me closer until I was half in his lap, half laughing against his lips.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I whispered.

“I am,” he murmured back. “This is the best way.”

For a moment, we stayed like that — the world outside fading, the hum of the city distant. Just us, the soft glow of the pumpkin lights we’d strung up earlier, and the quiet steady rhythm of home.

Later, as I got up to grab some water, I found Chan still on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He’d opened the group chat with the members, where they’d flooded him with messages reacting to the photo he’d sent earlier.

Lee Know: Mini Wolf Chan = icon

Seungmin: awww he’s actually precious 🥹

Hyunjin: IS THAT YOUR SON??? HE’S SO CUTE WTF 😭

Felix: bro mini wolf chan owns my heart

Han: ok but why does he look more charismatic than u 😏

Changbin: next mv cameo WHEN

I.N: i volunteer to babysit (pls)

Chan was smiling so wide his dimples were carved deep. “They’re obsessed,” he said.

I peeked at the screen. “They’re not wrong. He’s a star already.”

He chuckled, setting the phone aside. “Yeah, but he gets it from his mum.”

I groaned. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately,” I said, leaning down to kiss him once more, “I really do.”

That night, after we finally turned off the lights and crawled into bed, Chan pulled me close until my head rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear.

“Hey,” he murmured sleepily. “Thanks for tonight.”

“For what? You planned half of it.”

“Yeah, but you make it mean something,” he said softly. “Without you, it’s just… costumes and candy. With you, it’s family.”

I smiled against his chest. “You’re really sappy tonight.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my hair. “You love that too.”

“…Yeah,” I whispered. “I really do.”

The last thing I remember before drifting off was his hand tracing lazy circles on my back and his quiet voice murmuring, “My little pack — me, you, and our baby wolf.”

And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, painting stripes of gold across our bedroom. I blinked a few times, still half-asleep, and felt the weight of someone small sprawled across my chest.

“…Chan?” I mumbled, opening one eye.

“Hmm?” came the muffled reply from beside me.

Then I felt it — a tiny hand poking at my cheek. Our son had wiggled in between us during the night, still in his mini Wolf Chan hoodie, eyes sparkling even though he was barely awake.

“Good morning, little wolf,” I whispered, brushing the soft hair from his forehead. He giggled, making a tiny growl sound.

Chan stirred, yawning and stretching beside us. “Morning,” he murmured. He leaned down to kiss our son’s head, and the little guy squealed happily. “Looks like someone’s full of energy already.”

I laughed softly. “He’s excited about Halloween candy.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding. He didn’t even touch most of it last night.”

I shrugged, trying not to grin. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all about the thrill of the hunt, right?”

Our son, apparently understanding the word hunt, tried to crawl off me and grab the small pumpkin bucket that had somehow made its way into the bed. He succeeded, holding it triumphantly as if he had conquered a mountain.

“You little menace,” Chan said, chuckling as he scooped him up. “Just like his mum.”

“Excuse me?” I protested playfully.

“You heard me,” he said, ducking under the covers with our son still in his arms. “You are adorable and ruthless.”

I laughed, swinging my legs out of bed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Breakfast was… an adventure.

Our little wolf had apparently decided that his first Halloween breakfast should include: oatmeal smeared across his face, a banana peeled halfway and abandoned, and — of course — a stray candy wrapper.

“Chan… help me,” I groaned, staring down at the tiny chaos.

Chan rolled up his sleeves and approached the high chair like a general preparing for battle. “It’s okay, mate. I got this.”

He tried to hand him a spoon, and our son immediately tried to shove it in his own ear. Chan sighed dramatically, then laughed when he looked at me. “We’re doomed.”

“I’m laughing so I don’t cry,” I admitted. I grabbed a wipe and began rescuing what I could of the oatmeal from the floor, our son babbling happily the whole time.

Chan leaned over, kissing my temple. “You’re amazing with him, you know that?”

I paused, holding back a smile. “I mean, we’re in this together. And you’re doing a great job too, Appa.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly proud. “I am doing great. He loves me. Admit it.”

I shook my head, grinning. “He loves both of us. And that’s what matters.”

Our son let out a triumphant little squeal, smearing more oatmeal onto his cheeks, as if agreeing with me.

After breakfast, we moved to the living room for a little post-Halloween reflection. Chan flopped onto the couch with our son on his lap, playing with his tiny wolf hood.

“Look at him,” Chan said softly, brushing a curl from his son’s forehead. “You think he knows how special tonight was for him?”

I sat beside them, resting my hand on his shoulder. “I think he knows he’s loved. That’s enough for now.”

Chan smiled, pressing a kiss to our son’s tiny hand. “Yeah… loved, spoiled, and already a celebrity.”

Our son, of course, agreed by grabbing Chan’s nose and attempting a nibble. Chan squealed, and I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the couch.

“You two are ridiculous,” I said, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I swear, I married a grown man who acts like a toddler when his kid grabs him.”

“Hey,” Chan protested playfully, “I’m the fun parent. You’re the strict one.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Strict? I’m the one keeping him alive and keeping his clothes clean. You? You’re letting him eat candy for breakfast.”

Chan grinned. “Exactly. Fun parent.”

I shook my head, smiling. “Alright, fun parent, let’s get him changed. He’s already turned his hoodie into a nap blanket.”

As I changed our son into a fresh outfit — soft little pajamas with tiny wolf paw prints on the sleeves — I couldn’t help but admire him. His little nose scrunched when he concentrated, his chubby hands grasping at the fabric, and his eyes that mirrored Chan’s — dark, warm, and full of mischief.

Chan leaned over my shoulder, whispering, “He really does look like me when he’s thinking hard.”

I smiled. “Yeah… he’s definitely your mini-me in the cleverness department.”

“You’re the patient one,” Chan added, brushing a stray lock of hair from our son’s forehead. “You taught him all the calmness he has. I just taught him chaos.”

I nudged him. “You’re exaggerating. You taught him love.”

He gave me a slow, soft smile, one I recognized from the quiet moments of the day. “True. And I’m glad I get to do it with you.”

I leaned against him, letting the warmth of our little family soak in. “Me too.”

The rest of the morning was spent in a blissful mix of cuddles and quiet play. Chan built a little “wolf den” with pillows, and our son crawled in and out, laughing like it was the greatest game in the world. I watched from the couch, laughing quietly as they rolled around, Chan’s exaggerated growls making our son squeal with delight.

“You guys are seriously the cutest,” I said, picking up the camera to capture a few candid moments.

Chan caught my gaze, leaning close to whisper, “Only for you, love. Only for you.”

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I feel so lucky.”

“You are lucky,” he whispered back, brushing his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “We all are.”

Our son babbled happily in the background, tugging at both of our hands, as if to say, Don’t forget me.

And we didn’t.

By noon, it was time for a nap — for all of us. Chan carried our little wolf to his crib, and I followed, setting up blankets and fluffing pillows for myself on the couch. He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before settling beside me.

“I can’t believe it’s already over,” he murmured.

“First Halloween done, memory made,” I said. “And there’s no one else I’d want to do it with.”

He held my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Me neither.”

The soft rhythm of our son’s breathing filled the room. I rested my head against Chan’s shoulder, feeling completely at home.

And in that quiet, golden afternoon light, I knew that Halloween wasn’t just about costumes, candy, or even “firsts.” It was about family. About laughter and chaos and love. About little moments like this — soft kisses, tiny giggles, and the warmth of being together.

I smiled, closing my eyes, knowing that this was only the beginning of our adventures.

Our little wolf, our first Halloween, our perfect, imperfect, chaotic, beautiful family.

Pairing: Bang Chan × Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff · Family · Romance · Light Comedy Word Count: ~ 5.5k Summary: When Bang Chan’s wife in Australia goes into labor right after his concert in Seoul, chaos erupts. With the Stray Kids members scrambling to help, Chan races across the ocean to make it in time for the birth of their daughter — and to reveal the secret family he’s been keeping close to his heart.

Our Little Family masterlist

The air inside the concert buzzed with electricity. The crowd roared in rhythm to the last beats of “God’s Menu,” the red lights flashing over the stage, sweat glistening on eight faces that had given their all for two hours straight.

Bang Chan grinned as the final notes faded out, heart hammering against his ribs. “Thank you, Seoul!” he shouted into his mic, voice rough from excitement. The crowd screamed louder, and the sound washed over him — the kind of rush he lived for.

Behind him, Felix laughed breathlessly, throwing his arm around Hyunjin. “Bro, Chan hyung’s eyes are sparkling again.”

Hyunjin smirked, flipping his damp hair. “He looks like he just married the stage.”

If only they knew.

Chan chuckled softly, waving one more time before the lights dimmed and the curtain dropped. As the music cut off, he finally exhaled. “Good job, guys. Seriously… that was incredible.”

They piled together, a sweaty, messy hug that only Stray Kids could manage — a bunch of brothers laughing through exhaustion.

“Yah, hyung,” Seungmin grinned, “you’re shaking.”

“I’m just proud of you all,” Chan replied, smiling softly. His voice wavered slightly. He missed her. He always did, but tonight… it hurt more.

Backstage, staff swarmed around them, handing out towels and water bottles. Cameras flashed, stylists chattered, managers congratulated them. Chan smiled, nodded — but the second his phone buzzed in his back pocket, his heart skipped.

He felt it.

That familiar ringtone — the one he’d set for her.

“Give me a sec,” he murmured, excusing himself and stepping into the hallway, away from the noise.

He answered instantly. “Hey, baby—”

A voice came through, weak but trembling.

“Channie… my water just broke.”

For a split second, the world stopped.

The hallway blurred. The cheering from the arena disappeared. All that existed was her voice — strained, breathless — and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“W–wait, what? You— you mean—”

“Yes!” you cried, your voice rising slightly. “The baby’s coming! Chan, it’s happening—”

Chan froze. “Oh my— okay, okay, breathe, breathe! Where’s— are you— who’s with you?!”

“Mum and dad are here, we’re heading to the hospital now—”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming—”

“What?! Chan, you’re in Korea! You can’t just—”

But he’d already hung up.

Because his brain wasn’t functioning anymore.

His wife — his wife — was in labor. In Australia. And no one in the group even knew he was married.

“Hyung? You good?” Han poked his head around the corner, munching on a granola bar. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Chan turned slowly, pale as paper. “I need to go.”

“Uh… go where? We have encore photos and an interview—”

“I have to go now.”

He rushed past Han, nearly tripping over a cable, grabbing his jacket, phone, and passport from his bag like muscle memory.

“Woah woah— Chan hyung!” Lee Know appeared out of nowhere, towel still draped over his shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later—”

“Later?! You’re sprinting out of the dome in your stage clothes!”

By now, the others were gathering — Felix, Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin, and Changbin, all wide-eyed and confused.

“Hyung, did something happen?” I.N asked worriedly.

Chan’s chest heaved as he tried to find words. “She— my— my wife—”

“Your what?” Han choked.

“My wife! She’s in labor! In Australia!”

Silence.

Then:

“…Wife?!” Felix practically squeaked, eyes the size of dinner plates. “You’re married?!”

Seungmin blinked. “Since when do you have a wife?!”

Changbin dropped his water bottle. “Bro, you’ve been married this whole time?!”

Hyunjin threw his arms up. “You mean all those nights you disappeared early weren’t for the gym?!”

“Guys, not now!” Chan barked, fumbling with his phone. “I need to get to the airport— no, a private plane— something fast!”

Felix blinked, still stunned. “You’re serious…”

“She’s about to have the baby, Lix!” Chan shouted, voice cracking. “If I don’t get there now, I’ll miss it!”

The room exploded into chaos.

Han dropped his granola bar. “Okay— okay— we gotta do something! Someone call Manager-nim!”

“Already on it!” Changbin said, phone to his ear. “Hey, hyung, emergency— yeah, it’s Chan— no, not health— it’s baby related— NO, not his baby figuratively, like literally his baby!”

Hyunjin ran after Chan, who was already sprinting down the hall. “Hyung! You can’t just run to Australia!”

“Watch me!” Chan yelled back, dodging a confused staff member.

I.N trailed behind, panting. “Wait— do we pack snacks or something?!”

“Jisung, go with him!” Lee Know ordered, half-panicking, half-leading. “Felix, get the company to arrange a flight. Bin, make sure Manager-nim doesn’t faint!”

“Too late— he fainted!” Changbin shouted from the phone.

Twenty minutes later, the Stray Kids dressing room looked like a war zone.

“Okay,” Felix said, typing furiously on his laptop. “There’s a private charter from Gimpo to Sydney leaving in forty-five minutes— we can get Chan on it if we pull some strings.”

Hyunjin was pacing. “He’s gonna be a dad. He’s gonna freaking be a dad.”

Han was trying to calm Chan down, which was impossible. The leader was pacing like a lion in a cage, running his hands through his hair, muttering half in English, half in Korean.

“What if I don’t make it?” he said hoarsely. “What if she’s scared and I’m not there—”

Han grabbed his shoulders. “You will make it, hyung. We’ll get you there.”

Seungmin nodded, scrolling on his phone. “I’m booking an emergency driver. We can get you to Gimpo in twenty-five minutes if we leave now.”

I.N looked up shyly. “Hyung, should we… like… tell your family you’re coming?”

Chan blinked. “They already know.”

“Of course they do,” Felix muttered, shaking his head with a smile. “You sneaky little kangaroo.”

“Guys,” Chan said quietly, meeting their eyes one by one. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t want it to affect the group— she’s private, and—”

“Hyung,” Lee Know interrupted, arms crossed but voice soft, “don’t apologize. Go. We’ll handle everything here.”

Chan’s throat tightened. These idiots — these brothers — always had his back.

Han clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s move! Dad Chan has a plane to catch!”

“Don’t call me that!” Chan shouted, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite his panic.

The ride to the airport was chaos itself.

Changbin was yelling at the driver to go faster, Hyunjin was recording a chaotic vlog (“Chan hyung’s having a baby! Everyone panic!”), and Han kept feeding Chan random snacks “in case you faint halfway through the flight.”

Felix sat beside Chan, quietly holding his phone. “I texted your mum. She says your wife’s in the hospital now — she’s doing okay, but things are moving fast.”

Chan exhaled shakily. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Felix smiled softly, squeezing his arm. “You’ll make it. She’s strong. You always said that.”

Chan’s chest ached at that — a memory flashing of you laughing in the Australian sun, teasing him for forgetting the baby name list again.

He missed you so much it physically hurt.

By the time they reached Gimpo, everything was a blur. Security staff, flashing cameras, the roar of fans who had no idea what was going on.

Manager-nim had somehow pulled every string possible. A small private jet was ready, engines humming, door open.

“Go!” Lee Know yelled, shoving Chan’s backpack at him. “We’ll handle the press! Just go be with your family!”

Chan froze at the door, turning to look at them — his members, grinning and shouting encouragement despite the chaos.

“Hyung!” Han yelled. “Name the baby after me!”

“NO!” everyone shouted at once.

Chan laughed breathlessly, eyes wet. “Thank you, guys. I love you all.”

“GO, OLD MAN!” Hyunjin shouted dramatically.

And he ran — heart pounding, lungs burning, tears stinging his eyes — up the stairs and into the plane.

As it lifted into the night sky, the city lights of Seoul glittered beneath him.

He leaned back, breath trembling, staring out the window. “Hold on, baby,” he whispered to himself. “I’m coming.”

Meanwhile, back in the dorm, chaos had not ended.

Felix was already updating the group chat: “Chan hyung’s plane took off. ETA Sydney 8 hours. He’s gonna be a dad before sunrise.”

Han was already pacing the kitchen. “Do we send flowers? Balloons? Diapers?”

“Why are you panicking?!” Seungmin said, rolling his eyes.

“Because our leader’s having a baby!” Han shouted. “We’re uncles now!”

Changbin grinned. “Uncles who don’t even know the baby’s name.”

“Bet it’s something cute like Lily,” I.N murmured.

Felix chuckled. “Maybe. But whatever it is… it’s gonna be loved.”

Chan didn’t sleep a second on the flight. Every sound, every vibration made him restless. He called your mum halfway through — you were in labor, things were progressing, but fast.

He prayed under his breath between every update. “Please, just let me make it. Let me see her.”

And when the plane finally touched down on the Sydney runway, he didn’t even wait for the seatbelt light.

He bolted.

The plane door hadn’t even fully opened before Bang Chan was out of his seat, backpack slung over his shoulder, heart pounding in his throat. The flight attendant barely managed a startled “Sir—!” before he was sprinting through the terminal, eyes darting left and right for the nearest exit.

He hadn’t changed out of his concert clothes — black joggers, sneakers, and a hoodie with “Stray Kids Everywhere All Around The World” printed on the back. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He really was everywhere.

“Chan! Over here!”

A familiar voice cut through the crowd. His younger sister, Hannah, was waving frantically from behind a security barrier, phone pressed to her ear. The moment he saw her, his composure cracked.

“Hannah!” He bolted toward her, nearly tripping over someone’s suitcase. She threw her arms around him as soon as he reached her.

“She’s already at the hospital,” Hannah said breathlessly, pulling back to look at him. “Mum’s with her — she’s doing good, but the doctor said the baby’s coming fast.”

Chan’s heart nearly stopped. “Fast?”

She nodded, eyes wide. “As in… you might have, like, twenty minutes.”

“Twenty—” He didn’t even finish. “Let’s go!”

They ran through the terminal, Chan’s hat pulled low, Hannah on the phone with their dad. Outside, his family car screeched to a stop — his father behind the wheel, his mum’s voice shouting through the speaker, “Christopher! She’s asking for you!”

Chan’s throat closed. “I’m coming, Mum. Tell her I’m coming.”

He jumped into the back seat, slamming the door shut as the car tore down the road toward the hospital.

Traffic lights, horns, city lights flashing past — the drive felt endless and too short all at once. Chan’s fingers tapped restlessly on his knee, his eyes flicking to the clock every few seconds. His father glanced at him through the rearview mirror, voice calm but warm.

“She’s strong, son. You’ll get there.”

Chan nodded, trying to breathe. “I should’ve been here sooner.”

Hannah reached over, squeezing his hand. “You did everything you could. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

His phone buzzed again — a video call.

“Felix?”

On screen, seven chaotic faces crowded around the camera.

“Hyung!” Han’s voice blared. “Are you there yet?!”

“I’m in the car,” Chan said, breathless. “Almost there.”

“Did she have the baby?!” I.N asked, eyes wide.

“No, not yet, but any minute—”

“Tell her we’re cheering for her!” Hyunjin shouted, waving dramatically. “And for you! Go be Daddy Chan!”

Chan groaned. “Stop calling me that!”

Lee Know smirked. “Better get used to it. You’re a dad now.”

Changbin grinned. “You better cry, bro. Like ugly cry. Or it doesn’t count.”

Felix smiled softly through the chaos. “We’ll be waiting, hyung. Go meet your little one.”

Chan swallowed hard, emotion thick in his chest. “Thanks, guys. I’ll call when— when it happens.”

He hung up before his voice broke.

The hospital came into view — bright lights, automatic doors, and a blur of nurses. The second the car stopped, Chan was out, sprinting inside, ignoring the startled looks from people in the lobby.

“Bang Chan!” a nurse called. “Room 208 — maternity wing! Hurry!”

He didn’t even ask how she knew his name. He just ran.

The hallway seemed to stretch forever, but finally — Room 208.

He pushed open the door.

And there you were.

Hair damp with sweat, face pale but radiant, your hand gripping his mother’s as another contraction hit. The sound tore through him — pain, strength, life all at once.

Your eyes flew open when you heard his voice.

“Channie…” you breathed.

He froze at the doorway, eyes wide, chest heaving. Then he was at your side in two strides, dropping to his knees beside the bed, grabbing your free hand.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “You— you made it…”

“Of course I did.” He kissed your knuckles, his hand trembling. “You think I’d miss this?”

Your mum smiled from the corner, brushing away tears of her own. “You barely made it, sweetheart.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chan said, squeezing your hand tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The doctor looked up from the foot of the bed. “Alright, Dad’s here — good timing. We’re almost ready to push.”

“Wait— what? Now?!” Chan’s eyes widened.

The nurse chuckled. “You picked quite the entrance.”

The next minutes — maybe hours — blurred into chaos. Chan had faced screaming fans, intense stages, and sleepless nights, but this was a whole different kind of overwhelming.

You squeezed his hand so tightly he thought you might break it. He didn’t dare complain.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered again and again, brushing damp strands from your face. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Just breathe, okay? I’ve got you.”

You let out a breathless laugh between contractions. “You sound like— like you’re coaching a trainee—”

He laughed through tears. “Old habits.”

You pushed. You screamed. You cried.

And Chan could only hold your hand, whispering comfort, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Then — a rush of noise, a nurse calling out, and a sudden, tiny cry that filled the room.

Chan froze.

The doctor smiled. “Congratulations. It’s a girl.”

The world stopped.

A single, fragile cry — high and clear — broke through the haze. The nurse lifted the small, wriggling bundle, tiny fists waving in the air, and Chan’s knees nearly gave out.

You sobbed, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Is she—”

“She’s perfect,” the doctor said softly.

Chan’s hands trembled as the nurse brought the baby closer.

“Would you like to hold her, Dad?”

Dad.

The word hit him like lightning. He nodded wordlessly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he reached out — and the moment that warm, impossibly small body was in his arms, the dam broke completely.

“Oh my God…” he whispered, voice shaking. “Hi, baby girl…”

She blinked up at him, eyes unfocused but curious, a soft coo escaping her lips.

You watched him through tears, your heart swelling at the sight. Bang Chan — your husband, your rock — now holding your daughter like she was made of glass and starlight.

“She looks like you,” he murmured.

You smiled weakly. “Poor thing.”

He laughed softly, brushing a thumb over the baby’s cheek. “No way. She’s perfect.”

The nurse helped you sit up slightly, and Chan carefully placed the baby in your arms. The three of you — together at last — surrounded by the soft beeping of monitors and the distant hum of hospital life.

You looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “You really came all this way…”

“I’d cross the world a thousand times for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Both of you.”

Your mum sniffled quietly from the corner. “Oh, Christopher…”

Chan looked down at his daughter again, his heart aching with so much love it felt impossible to contain. “We did it, baby. We did it.”

An hour later, after everything settled — paperwork done, the baby cleaned and swaddled — Chan sat by your bed, his hoodie half unzipped, exhaustion finally catching up.

But he couldn’t stop staring.

His daughter was asleep on your chest, tiny fingers curled against your hospital gown. You’d fallen asleep too, hair messy, face peaceful.

Chan felt a lump rise in his throat.

He reached out and gently stroked a strand of hair from your face. “You’re incredible,” he whispered.

Then, quietly, he pulled out his phone.

A flood of unread messages filled the screen — from the boys.

Felix: “Update???”

Han: “BABY YET????”

Lee Know: “Don’t drop it.”

Changbin: “Name her after me.”

Hyunjin: “No, name her Hyunjina.”

Seungmin: “You’re all ridiculous.”

I.N: “Congrats in advance, hyung ❤️”

Chan chuckled softly, typing a reply with one hand.

“She’s here. Healthy and beautiful. Thank you, my brothers.”

Almost immediately, the group chat exploded.

Han: “AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Felix: “CRYING 😭😭😭”

Hyunjin: “UNCLE HYUNJIN IS READY.”

Seungmin: “Congrats, Dad Chan.”

Changbin: “SEND PIC OR WE RIOT.”

He smiled, turned his camera toward the sleeping bundle in your arms, and snapped a soft picture.

Then he sent it.

“Meet her — our little miracle.”

The next morning, the hospital room was quiet, golden light spilling through the curtains.

You stirred awake to find Chan still beside you, your daughter cradled against his chest, his hoodie wrapped around her like a cocoon.

He hadn’t slept. He was too busy smiling at her every few minutes, eyes shining with wonder.

“Morning, Mum,” he whispered when he noticed you watching.

“Morning, Dad,” you teased weakly.

He grinned. “I’ll never get used to that.”

“Neither will the boys,” you laughed softly. “They were so shocked, weren’t they?”

“Oh, yeah. Han almost choked on his granola bar.”

You giggled, and Chan’s heart melted all over again.

Then the baby let out a tiny yawn, and both of you froze, staring like she’d just performed a miracle.

Chan leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Welcome to the world, little one.”

You smiled. “What do we call her?”

He met your eyes, thinking for a moment. Then, softly: “Hana. Because she’s our one and only.”

Your eyes glistened. “Hana Bang… I love it.”

He smiled — tired, teary, completely overwhelmed — but happier than he’d ever been.

“Me too.”

Three days later, the Sydney sunshine spilled through the hospital window, turning the room golden. You were propped up in bed, your daughter — Hana Bang, officially named and already the center of the universe — sleeping in your arms.

Bang Chan sat beside you, hair messy from three nights of no sleep, his hoodie somehow permanently attached to him now.

He still hadn’t fully processed it — the tiny human sleeping on your chest, the way her hand fit perfectly around his finger, or how your smile had somehow grown softer, warmer, more complete.

You glanced over at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. “You keep staring.”

“I can’t help it,” he said softly. “She’s literally perfect. You’re literally perfect.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve said that like twelve times since sunrise.”

“Not enough,” he said seriously, and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna be the most embarrassing dad ever, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “Oh, one hundred percent. I’m gonna show her all my trainee videos.”

“Please don’t traumatize her that early.”

He laughed — and just as he was about to reply, his phone started ringing.

The ringtone was chaos. Literally. Because it was “Super Bowl” and every member yelling “STRAY KIDS!” in unison.

He sighed. “Oh no.”

You raised a brow. “The boys?”

He nodded. “They’ve been blowing up my phone for two days.”

“Answer it,” you encouraged with a small smile. “They’re family too.”

Chan exhaled and pressed “Accept.”

Immediately, the sound of seven different voices shouting exploded from the speaker.

“CHAN HYUNG!!!”

“SHOW US THE BABY!!”

“HOW’S YOUR WIFE???”

“ARE YOU BREATHING OKAY?!?!”

You jumped slightly, laughing. “Oh my God.”

Chan quickly flipped the camera to face you and the baby. “Okay, okay — quiet down, you’ll wake her up!”

Instant silence.

Then seven faces filled the screen, all frozen in collective awe.

“Oh my—” Felix gasped, clutching his chest. “She’s so tiny!”

Han’s eyes were already watering. “She’s literally the size of my microphone.”

Changbin sniffled dramatically. “Why do I feel emotional?!”

Hyunjin wiped fake tears. “Our leader became a dad! The world isn’t ready!”

Lee Know leaned forward, squinting. “She looks like you, hyung.”

Seungmin smirked. “Poor thing.”

“Hey!” Chan barked, though he was smiling proudly.

You couldn’t help giggling. “Hi, everyone.”

The screen exploded again.

“HI, MRS. BANG!!” Han screamed.

“HI, SISTER-IN-LAW!” Felix beamed. “You’re so beautiful — oh my gosh, how did you survive Chan for this long?”

You laughed, holding back tears. “It’s a miracle, honestly.”

Hyunjin clasped his hands. “You’re our hero.”

Changbin nodded. “Our leader’s married, and his wife is cooler than him.”

“HEY!” Chan protested, but you just smiled.

“She’s sleeping now,” you whispered, glancing at Hana. “You can say hi quietly.”

They all collectively leaned closer, voices dropping to a whisper.

“Hi, baby Hana,” I.N said softly, eyes shining. “We’re your uncles.”

“Seven of them,” Seungmin added dryly. “It’s chaos already.”

Felix waved. “We love you already, little one.”

Han sniffled. “She’s literally perfect, hyung. I can’t believe you’re a dad.”

Chan smiled softly. “Me neither.”

“Are we allowed to come meet her?” Felix asked hopefully. “We can fly in for a few days. The company already said it’s okay — we told them it’s ‘urgent family business.’”

Chan blinked, surprised. “You guys would really come all this way?”

Hyunjin grinned. “Bro, we’d cross the ocean for our niece.”

Changbin flexed his arm. “Uncle duties. Someone’s gotta teach her how to rap.”

Lee Know smirked. “And someone’s gotta teach her to bully her dad.”

“Absolutely not,” Chan said flatly, but you were already laughing.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Come visit. She deserves to meet her uncles.”

Two days later.

Sydney International Airport had never seen anything quite like the arrival of seven chaotic Korean idols trying to disguise themselves with masks, sunglasses, and bucket hats.

They failed miserably.

Felix was immediately recognized by his accent while ordering coffee (“one flat white, please”), Han got distracted by a vending machine, and Hyunjin nearly tripped over a suitcase because he was filming everything.

But somehow, they made it to Chan’s family home.

When Chan opened the door, he barely had time to breathe before seven bodies launched at him in a group hug.

“HYUNG!!!”

“DAD CHAN!!!”

“SHOW US THE BABY!!!”

He laughed, squished somewhere in the middle of the chaos. “Alright, alright — calm down!”

Felix was the first to spot you in the living room, cradling Hana on the couch. His jaw dropped.

“Oh my gosh, there she is,” he whispered, as if approaching royalty.

You smiled warmly. “Hi, boys.”

“Hi, mum!” Han said dramatically, hands clasped.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Please don’t call me that.”

Changbin peered over the couch, eyes wide. “She’s so small…”

“Because she’s a baby,” Seungmin deadpanned.

Hyunjin leaned closer. “Look at her tiny nose! She got that from you, didn’t she?”

Chan puffed his chest. “Excuse me, my nose is—”

“Big,” Lee Know interrupted.

The room erupted in laughter.

One by one, the boys gathered around you and the baby, their loud energy softening instantly as they saw her.

Felix knelt beside the couch, whispering in awe. “Hi, Hana. I’m your Uncle Lix. I’ll teach you how to bake cookies.”

Changbin crouched next. “Uncle Bin’s gonna teach you how to lift weights. When you’re older. Much, much older.”

Hyunjin beamed. “And I’ll teach you how to pose for pictures.”

Seungmin scoffed. “She’s two days old. Relax.”

Han clasped his hands dramatically. “I’ll teach her how to write songs about love and snacks.”

Lee Know leaned in. “And I’ll teach her how to bully her dad effectively.”

“Absolutely not,” Chan repeated, glaring, but everyone just laughed.

Even I.N, who had been standing quietly in the back, finally stepped forward. He smiled shyly, peeking at Hana. “Hi, baby. I’ll teach you how to be the calm one in the group.”

Felix snorted. “You mean the only sane one.”

You giggled softly, heart full watching them all. “She’s so lucky,” you murmured. “She already has eight protectors.”

Chan looked around at the room — his family, his brothers, his wife, his daughter — and felt something inside him settle. A peace he hadn’t realized he’d been chasing.

Later that afternoon, the chaos continued in the backyard.

Chan’s mum had set out snacks and tea while the boys sprawled on the grass, cooing over the baby in her stroller like proud uncles.

“Look at her!” Han squealed, snapping a dozen photos. “I can’t believe she’s real!”

“She has more hair than you,” Seungmin muttered.

Han gasped. “Seungmin! She’s a baby! Don’t start bullying already!”

Felix sat cross-legged, gently rocking the stroller. “She’s gonna grow up surrounded by so much love.”

Changbin nodded. “And chaos.”

Hyunjin leaned back on his hands, sighing dramatically. “Imagine her first words being ‘Stray Kids.’”

Lee Know smirked. “Or ‘Lee Know is my favorite.’”

Chan, who was bringing out juice boxes, glared. “Over my dead body.”

You came outside, laughing softly at the sight — your husband trying to corral seven grown men as if they were toddlers.

“This feels like a daycare,” you joked.

Chan sighed. “It is a daycare.”

You leaned against the doorframe, smiling at him. “You love it.”

He looked at you, eyes soft. “Yeah. I really do.”

As evening fell, the group sat together around the backyard table. The sunset painted everything in shades of gold and rose.

Felix was holding Hana carefully, humming softly — a lullaby Chan recognized from their trainee days.

Han was filming everything on his phone. “This is gonna be in our documentary. ‘The Day Chan Became a Dad.’”

“Delete that,” Chan warned, but he was smiling.

You rested your head on Chan’s shoulder, eyes half-closed. “They really flew all this way just for us.”

He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around you. “They’re family. They’d do anything.”

“Just like you did,” you whispered, looking up at him.

He turned his head, kissing your forehead gently. “I’d do it again. A thousand times.”

Later, after everyone had left for the night (well, after Felix tried to sneak Hana into his room and Lee Know physically dragged him back), you and Chan sat together on the couch, the baby monitor humming softly beside you.

Hana was asleep in her crib down the hall, peaceful as ever.

Chan leaned back, eyes closed, a tired smile on his face. “I think today was the happiest day of my life.”

You smiled. “Not the day she was born?”

“That was pure panic,” he laughed. “This… this was peace.”

You nestled closer. “You did good, Channie.”

He opened his eyes, gazing down at you. “We did good.”

You smiled sleepily. “She’s got your heart, you know.”

“She’s got yours too,” he whispered. “That’s what makes her perfect.”

For a moment, the world was quiet. Just the sound of your breathing, the hum of the night, and the soft pulse of love that filled the room.

Then his phone buzzed one last time. A message from the group chat.

Han: “Hyung, we left you something on the table.”

Chan frowned, got up, and walked over to the dining table — where he found a small box wrapped in red paper.

He opened it — and laughed.

Inside was a tiny white baby onesie that read:

“Future Member of Stray Kids.”

You burst out laughing when you saw it. “Oh my God—”

Chan held it up, chuckling through tears. “They’re unbelievable.”

“Are you going to tell them no?” you teased.

He smiled softly, holding the onesie to his chest. “Not yet.”

That night, when he finally went to check on Hana one more time, he stood over her crib, heart full to the brim.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered, brushing his finger gently over her tiny hand. “You’ve already changed my whole world.”

Her little hand curled around his finger, warm and perfect.

Chan blinked hard, tears threatening again. “You, your mum, and my boys… you’re everything. And I promise — I’ll always be here. Always.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Hana.”

Behind him, you whispered sleepily from the doorway, “She loves you too.”

He turned, smiling. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You crossed the room, sliding your hand into his. The two of you stood there, watching your daughter breathe peacefully under the soft glow of the nightlight.

The chaos, the running, the panic, the laughter — it all led to this moment.

Bang Chan had his music. He had his brothers.

But now, he also had home.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: Fluff, Humor, Family, Social Media AU (TikTok Challenge) Word Count: ~ 5.5k Summary: You decide to join a TikTok trend—passing your baby to each Stray Kids member (and finally Bang Chan) to see how they hold him while viewers guess who the dad is. Chaos, theories, and Stay meltdowns ensue.

Our Little Family masterlist

It had been three months since your baby boy was born, and life had shifted into something new, exhausting, and beautiful all at once. Bang Chan was still as doting and loving as ever, though he often carried around that “leader stress” expression even while cradling his own son. You swore he was more careful with the baby than with anything else in his life—more cautious than when handling an album drop, more focused than when running dance rehearsals, more tender than when writing a late-night melody.

And though you cherished the small family bubble you, Chan, and your son had built, there was also a playful itch in you. Something a little mischievous. Something perfect for TikTok.

Scrolling one night during a rare moment of peace while Chan hummed your son to sleep, you stumbled upon a trend: “Hand the baby to different people and let viewers guess who the dad is.”

Your lips curled into a grin immediately. It was innocent, funny, and it would drive Stays insane without giving anything away.

The next morning, while Chan was making his usual oatmeal-and-coffee breakfast (with your baby snoozing in his bouncer nearby), you leaned across the counter. “Hey, Channie?”

“Mm?” He stirred the oats, still in his loose pajama shirt and hair messily flopping into his eyes.

“I have a TikTok idea.”

Chan gave you a side glance, amused and wary at the same time. “Oh no. That tone never means anything good.”

You explained the trend, step by step. By the time you finished, Chan was frozen in place, spoon mid-stir, eyes wide. “You… want to hand our baby around like a game of hot potato?”

“Not hot potato! Gentle potato,” you teased. “And it’ll be safe. I’ll be right there, and so will staff. Besides, the members will love it.”

Chan pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. “And you want people to guess who the dad is? Do you know how Stays are going to lose their minds?”

You grinned wider. “Exactly. It’ll be hilarious.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face, but you caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You’re evil. Evil, I tell you.”

“Evil genius,” you corrected.

—

By the end of the week, you had roped in one of the JYP staff members to help you film. They agreed on the condition that you blurred out certain hallways and doors for privacy. The plan was simple: you’d walk around with your baby, passing him into the arms of each Stray Kids member, and the camera would capture the way they held him, interacted with him, and maybe even panicked with him.

The video would be posted with no explanation—just the baby being held by SKZ, and the caption: “Guess who the dad is 👀”

You strapped your baby into his soft little carrier as you entered the JYP building that afternoon, heart buzzing with anticipation. Your son was dressed in a cozy onesie that had little bear ears on the hood, making him look like the world’s tiniest teddy.

The staffer held up the camera, already giggling. “Okay, ready?”

You nodded. Showtime.

—

The first person you found was Lee Know, lounging on a couch in the practice room. He was scrolling on his phone, but when he noticed you, his expression softened instantly.

“Hey, noona,” he greeted. “Oh—baby visit!”

You smiled sweetly. “Wanna hold him?”

Lee Know’s face lit up as he eagerly set his phone aside and reached for your son. The camera followed smoothly as you passed the baby over.

Instantly, Lee Know cradled him with shocking ease. He adjusted the baby into his arm, gently supporting his head, then used his other hand to carefully tuck the little bear hood so it didn’t slip. His gaze softened, a rare tender smile gracing his face.

“Aigo,” he cooed softly, rocking the baby a little. “So small. He’s perfect.”

Your son blinked up at him, calm, then reached his tiny fist toward Lee Know’s necklace.

Lee Know chuckled quietly, letting the baby tug at it for a moment. “Yah, already got expensive taste, huh?”

Behind the camera, the staffer snorted. You bit your lip to keep from laughing—Lee Know looked so natural that Stays were going to go crazy.

After a few moments, you took the baby back and whispered, “Thanks, oppa.”

Lee Know winked. “Anytime.”

—

Next, you found Hyunjin in one of the recording studios, doodling on his iPad.

“Hyunjin-ah,” you called softly.

He spun around, and when he spotted the bundle in your arms, he gasped dramatically. “BABY?!”

You grinned. “Wanna hold him?”

Hyunjin scrambled up so fast he nearly knocked over his tablet. The camera caught his wide eyes and giddy smile as you placed the baby in his arms.

Unlike Lee Know, Hyunjin looked nervous at first, holding your son a little stiffly. But then the baby yawned, and Hyunjin’s heart just melted right there. His entire expression softened like butter in the sun.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin whispered. “Look at him. He’s like… an angel. An actual angel.”

He carefully rocked him side to side, eyes never leaving the tiny face. Then he pressed the softest kiss to the baby’s forehead, murmuring, “I think I might cry.”

You stifled a laugh. Chan was going to lose his mind when he saw Hyunjin kissing his baby’s forehead for TikTok.

Hyunjin looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Can I keep him?”

“No,” you said firmly, though your voice was full of laughter.

He pouted dramatically. “Fine. But only because I love you. And him.”

The staffer was trying not to shake the camera from laughing.

—

Finally, you wandered down the hall to find Han in the pantry area, raiding the snacks.

“Jisung-ah,” you said casually.

He turned, mouth already full of chips, then froze mid-chew when he saw the baby. His eyes widened. He pointed at himself with a chip-stained finger. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” You smiled innocently. “Wanna hold him?”

Han panicked instantly. “Waitwaitwait—I don’t think that’s a good—AH—okay okay, fine.”

The camera zoomed in as you passed the baby carefully into his arms. Han looked absolutely terrified, holding your son like he was made of glass, stiff as a board.

“Uh… hi,” Han squeaked, staring down at the baby. “Wow. You’re… alive. And small. And alive.”

Your son gurgled happily, reaching a tiny fist toward Han’s hoodie strings.

“Oh—he wants to fight? No, no, don’t eat that—oh god, I’m sweating.”

You and the staffer were both doubled over, laughing silently.

Han looked up desperately. “Are you filming this? Don’t film this! I look like a terrible dad!”

The irony nearly broke you—you couldn’t wait to see Stay argue over whether Han looked like the obvious father or the obvious uncle.

—

And that was only the beginning. You had five more members to find… including your own husband.

After prying the baby gently out of Han’s panicked grip—he honestly looked relieved when you took him back—you and the staffer headed down the hall again. The baby was calm as ever, blinking curiously at the fluorescent lights above, occasionally letting out a soft coo.

“Your baby’s an angel,” the staffer whispered, adjusting the camera strap around their neck. “I’d be crying by now if I had to film all of this cuteness.”

You chuckled, bouncing your son gently. “Wait until we get to Felix. He’ll cry for both of us.”

—

The first new target: Seungmin.

You found him in another practice room, tidying up after running through some choreography. He looked tired but sharp, hair damp from sweat. When he noticed you and the baby, his expression softened immediately, though he didn’t make a big dramatic fuss like Hyunjin had.

“Hey,” he said in his calm, warm voice. “Want me to hold him?”

You smirked. “Please.”

The camera zoomed in as you carefully handed your son over. Seungmin accepted him smoothly, supporting the head automatically like he’d done it a thousand times before. His posture relaxed as he cradled the baby against his chest, one large hand gently patting the tiny back in rhythmic comfort.

“Hey, little guy,” Seungmin murmured, voice softer than you’d ever heard. “You’re really calm, huh? Unlike some people I know.” He glanced up at you with a teasing look.

You gasped dramatically, trying not to laugh, and the baby blinked up at Seungmin, utterly content.

“You’re heavier than you look,” Seungmin added quietly, rocking him just slightly. “But that’s a good thing. Means you’re healthy.”

The way he said it—so practical, yet affectionate—made your chest ache in the best way. He looked like he could’ve stood there for hours, holding your son with quiet confidence.

The staffer whispered behind the camera, “Okay, Stay is going to think it’s him.”

You grinned knowingly. “Exactly.”

—

Next up was Felix, and just like you predicted, chaos.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the studio lounge, sorting through a pile of bracelets. As soon as his eyes landed on you, then the bundle in your arms, his freckles lit up with the brightest smile.

“Baby time?!” he squeaked, bouncing to his feet.

“Baby time,” you confirmed, suppressing your grin as you handed your son over.

Felix gasped the moment the baby was settled in his arms, clutching him close like he was holding the most precious treasure in the world. His eyes immediately watered.

“Oh my gosh,” Felix whispered in that deep, velvety voice. “He’s so small. Look at his little cheeks.” He gently stroked one with a fingertip, beaming. “He’s perfect. He’s literally perfect.”

The baby made a small sound, half-coo, half-yawn. Felix looked like he’d been shot straight through the heart.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, bouncing on his toes. “He talked! He said something! He said hi!”

You tried not to laugh too loudly, biting the inside of your cheek. Felix swayed the baby gently back and forth, murmuring nonstop compliments—“so handsome, so sweet, so perfect”—until finally he pressed a soft kiss to the baby’s tiny fist.

And then, of course, Felix started tearing up for real.

“Don’t cry on him,” you whispered, laughing.

“I can’t help it!” Felix sniffled dramatically. “He’s so beautiful! How can anyone be so pure?!”

The staffer was wheezing behind the camera. “This one’s going to break the internet.”

You didn’t disagree.

—

After Felix reluctantly gave the baby back, you made your way toward the cafeteria, where you spotted I.N (Jeongin)hunched over a plate of food.

“Jeonginnie,” you called softly.

He looked up, mouth stuffed with rice, then nearly choked when he saw the baby. “Wha—what is—why is there a baby here?!”

You laughed. “Want to hold him?”

Jeongin’s eyes widened like saucers. “Me?! No, no, no, I’m too young for this. I’ll drop him. My hands are greasy—”

“Go wash your hands,” you said firmly.

Five minutes later, after a panicked hand-washing session, Jeongin returned, still looking terrified. “Okay. Okay, but if he cries, it’s not my fault.”

You handed your son carefully into his arms, and Jeongin stiffened immediately, clutching him like someone had just handed him a priceless artifact.

“Ahhh,” Jeongin squeaked. “He’s looking at me. Why is he looking at me?”

“He likes you,” you assured.

“He can’t like me, I’m not ready to be liked by a baby!”

The baby, of course, reached up and grabbed a strand of Jeongin’s hair. Jeongin froze, horrified.

“He’s pulling me. He’s pulling my soul out through my hair.”

You doubled over laughing while the staffer tried to keep the camera steady. The baby gurgled happily, tugging harder.

Jeongin let out a resigned sigh. “…Okay, fine. You can have it. Take my hair. Take everything.”

When you finally took the baby back, Jeongin collapsed against the table like he’d just survived war. “Never again. Babies are dangerous.”

You smirked. “Sure. But you looked pretty natural to me.”

Jeongin groaned. “Don’t say that! Stays are going to roast me alive if they think I’m dad material.”

—

Finally, you tracked down Changbin, who was in the recording studio tinkering with beats.

“Binnie,” you called.

He spun around in his chair, then his whole face softened into the sweetest grin when he saw the baby. “Ohhh, come here, little guy!”

You passed the baby over, and Changbin scooped him up like he’d been waiting his whole life for the chance. He sat the baby comfortably against his broad chest, bouncing him gently while speaking in the softest voice you’d ever heard.

“Hey, buddy. Look at you,” Changbin cooed. “So tiny. You wanna be a producer like me when you grow up? We’ll make beats together. Boom, boom.” He mimicked a bass beat with his mouth, and the baby giggled.

Changbin gasped dramatically. “Did you hear that? He laughed! He likes me! That means he’s mine now.”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Yours?”

“Yep. Sorry, noona. He’s my baby now.”

Behind the camera, the staffer snorted. “This one’s dangerous too. He looks too natural.”

Changbin continued bouncing your son, kissing his tiny hand and whispering nonsense in a soft, melodic tone. Watching him, you almost forgot this was a prank TikTok—it just looked too heartwarming.

When you finally reached to take the baby back, Changbin groaned. “Nooo. He likes me. Look at him. He doesn’t want to leave.”

Your son actually did pout a little when taken away, which made Changbin puff his chest proudly. “See? Proof.”

—

By now, you were nearly done—only one member left, and then your husband.

You smirked to yourself as you bounced your son gently. The chaos so far was gold, but you knew the ending—the reveal—was going to be the best part.

Because no one held the baby like Bang Chan did.

The baby was already starting to get a little fussy from all the passing around, so you decided to save the best for last. There was only one person left on your list, and you knew this was the part that was going to break the internet.

You found Bang Chan exactly where you expected him to be—in one of the smaller studios, hunched over his laptop with headphones hanging around his neck. He was half-bopping his head to something he’d been mixing, but the moment you stepped in with the baby, his whole face lit up.

“Hey, my loves,” he said instantly, voice softening in that way he reserved only for the two of you.

The staffer behind the camera zoomed in, catching every detail of Chan’s expression. It was so automatic—so instinctive—that there was no hiding it.

You smiled sweetly. “Wanna hold him?”

Chan blinked at you, then tilted his head like you’d just asked him if he wanted oxygen. “What kind of question is that? Of course.”

He set his laptop aside immediately and held his arms out. You passed your son carefully over, and the instant the baby settled into his father’s chest, he relaxed with a tiny sigh.

Chan adjusted him with practiced ease, supporting his head perfectly, one hand cradling the small body close while the other rubbed the baby’s back. Then, without thinking, he dipped his head to press a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead.

Behind the camera, the staffer whispered, “Oh my god.”

You bit back a laugh. This was going to be too obvious.

Chan began humming under his breath—a low, soothing melody you recognized as one of the lullabies he’d written just for your son. The baby cooed happily, little fist gripping at the fabric of Chan’s shirt.

“There we go,” Chan whispered. “That’s my boy. Did you miss Appa? Hm?”

Your heart clenched in the sweetest way possible, but you also had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing. If anyoneon TikTok didn’t guess correctly after this, you’d be shocked.

The door suddenly burst open, and in came half the members—Han, Hyunjin, Felix, and Changbin, all crowding to peek inside.

“Yah!” Han gasped. “See? He’s way too natural. He’s definitely the dad.”

Hyunjin pouted dramatically. “No, I was the best! The baby loved me more.”

“Dream on,” Changbin scoffed. “He literally laughed at my beatboxing. That means I’m the dad.”

Felix wiped at his still-watery eyes. “No… look at him. Look at Chan-hyung. That’s it. Case closed. He’s glowing.”

Chan looked up at them all, utterly bewildered. “What are you guys even talking about?”

You smirked from your spot by the wall. “Oh, nothing. Just… filming.”

The members’ eyes widened as realization dawned. “YOU’RE RECORDING THIS?!”

The staffer gave a thumbs up from behind the camera.

Hyunjin threw his arms in the air. “Unfair! Now everyone’s going to think it’s Chan, when clearly I had the angel moment.”

“You cried on him, Felix,” Seungmin deadpanned as he slipped into the room, followed by Jeongin. “That’s not dad material, that’s emotional uncle material.”

Felix pouted, crossing his arms. “But he smiled at me.”

Chan finally caught on, eyes narrowing at you playfully. “Wait… is this that TikTok trend you were talking about?”

You beamed innocently. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, looking down at the baby, who was perfectly content in his arms. “You’re evil. Making everyone guess? They’re all going to know it’s me.”

“Not necessarily,” you teased. “You’d be surprised how delusional Stays can be when it comes to theories.”

Han smirked. “Oh, this is going to be good. They’re going to argue for days.”

“Bet you they’ll say it’s me,” Changbin said confidently, still puffing out his chest.

“No, me,” Hyunjin argued. “I kissed him.”

“That doesn’t make you the dad,” Seungmin muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Guys,” Jeongin said quietly, pointing. “Look at them. Look at Chan-hyung. Case closed.”

Everyone turned to stare again, and honestly, it was hard to argue. Chan wasn’t even performing—he was just being himself. His eyes were soft, his smile was gentle, and he swayed instinctively as the baby let out a tiny sigh and nestled closer into his chest.

Chan glanced up, cheeks flushing under all the stares. “What?”

Hyunjin groaned. “It’s too obvious.”

“Yeah,” Han agreed, smirking. “But that’s what makes it funny. Stays are going to tear each other apart.”

Felix bounced on his toes excitedly. “Let’s post it now!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not yet. Let me edit it first. Then we’ll unleash it on the internet.”

Chan groaned again, burying his face against the baby’s soft hair. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you said cheerfully. “But look on the bright side—at least now the whole world gets to see what an amazing dad you are.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide. “Y/N!”

You winked, and the room erupted with laughter.

—

The filming wrapped up after that, but of course the teasing didn’t stop. As you packed the baby back into his carrier, the members kept up their debate like it was the world’s most serious case.

“It’s me.” “No, me!” “Definitely me.” “You’re all wrong, it’s obviously Hyunjin.” “Stop lying to yourself, it’s Chan.”

Meanwhile, Chan just sighed, slipping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out together. He pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered, “You’re really going to make me the internet’s number one suspect, huh?”

You grinned, leaning against him. “Always.”

Later that night, after tucking your baby into his bassinet, you curled up on the couch beside Chan, phone in hand. He was already giving you the side-eye, like he knew exactly what was about to happen.

“You’re really going to post it?” he asked, though his arm was wrapped snugly around you.

“Mhm.” You tapped through your drafts, found the video, and added the caption: “Guess who the dad is 👀”

Chan groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re evil. Pure evil.”

“Evil genius,” you corrected again, hitting “post.”

It took less than ten minutes before the notifications started flooding in. You opened the app, and both of you stared at the comments section exploding in real time.

—

TikTok Comments

@ stay4life ✨: WAIT—WHY IS THERE A BABY???

@ skzbrainrot: omg the way Lee Know held him so gently?? 😭 dad vibes confirmed

@ hyunjinismydream: HYUNJIN KISSED THE BABY ON THE FOREHEAD I’M CRYING 🥺

@ lixlovefreckles: FELIX IS CRYING OVER THE BABY I REPEAT FELIX IS CRYING 😭😭😭😭

@ seungminsnaturalcharm: why is seungmin so casual like he’s done this before 💀

@ inmaknaestruggle: jeongin: “he’s pulling my soul out through my hair” LMAOOOOO 🤣🤣🤣

@ chrisgang: HAN HOLDING THE BABY LIKE IT’S A BOMB OMGGGGGG 💀💀💀

@ changbinfits: CHANGBIN BEATBOXING TO THE BABY AND MAKING HIM LAUGH??? sorry he’s the dad. case closed.

@ ot8forever: no bc chan at the end… the way the baby just MELTED into him… the way chan hummed to him??? nah it’s too obvious.

@ babystays: THE CAPTION “guess who the dad is 👀” THEY’RE PLAYING WITH US AGAIN 😭

@ felixbrownie: this feels like a whole K-drama plot and I’m not surviving it.

@ realstray: LISTEN… what if it’s NOT chan… what if it’s SEUNGMIN and JYP is trying to distract us 👀

@ delusionalstay88: guys… call me crazy but I think it’s Jeongin. he looks suspicious.

@ realisticstay: no bc it’s literally Chan. Look at the way the baby sighs against him. That’s a baby who knows his dad 😭

@ samsung: nah Hyunjin kissing the baby?? endgame.

@ babychan: THE BABY SAID “APPA” IN HIS EYES OKAY?!

@ stayswithreceipts: Felix crying = uncle. Han panicking = cousin. Seungmin calm = responsible uncle. Chan = DAD. math done ✅

@ ilvustray: i love how they’re all acting natural but you can SEE the panic in han’s eyes 😭😭😭

@ ot8married: im sorry but chan humming a lullaby at the end?? that man is not acting.

@ cryingstay: oh we’re never getting sleep again. this fandom is going to theorize until 2027.

@ bang98: ok but plot twist: it’s a STAFF MEMBER’S baby and skz are just uncles 🤔

@ logicstay: the caption says “guess” … so it’s OBVIOUSLY not the obvious answer (chan). 4D chess.

@ kidstray: nah the way the baby grabbed changbin’s hoodie like “dad” … i can’t 😭😭😭

@ Ioveleeknows: Jeongin saying “babies are dangerous” is the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard.

@ staytears: Y/N YOU ARE EVIL FOR THIS BUT THANK YOU.

—

You couldn’t stop laughing, scrolling through the endless flood of comments. The fandom was absolutely losing its collective mind, theories branching off in a thousand directions.

Chan sat beside you, head tipped back against the couch, groaning like a man in pain. “I told you. Too obvious.”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “But look—they’re fighting. Some of them really think it’s Jeongin.”

That finally made him laugh, shaking his head. “Jeongin? The guy who nearly fainted when the baby pulled his hair?”

“Hey, you never know,” you teased.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a group chat notification. The members had clearly seen the TikTok.

SKZ Group Chat

Han: YO WHY AM I HOLDING THE BABY LIKE IT’S TNT 💀 Hyunjin: no bc i kissed the baby… i win. end of discussion. Seungmin: Hyunjin, shut up. Felix: …I cried again watching it 😭😭😭 Changbin: The baby laughed at me. That’s proof enough. Dad status confirmed. Jeongin: WHO KEEPS SAYING IT’S ME??? I’M TOO YOUNG TO PAY CHILD SUPPORT. Chan: …I hate you all. Han: nah bro it’s over for you. stays already solved it 💀

You snorted so hard you nearly dropped your phone. “They’re bullying you in the group chat.”

Chan groaned again but couldn’t stop smiling. He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I can’t believe you set me up like this.”

“You love it,” you whispered back.

He didn’t deny it.

—

The next morning, the TikTok was trending worldwide. Clips had already been re-uploaded, slowed down, edited with dramatic music, captioned with things like “Father Chan era confirmed” and “SKZ as dads compilation when?”

Everywhere you looked, Stays were still arguing—some convinced it was Chan, others dead set it was Changbin, some spiraling into wild theories about Seungmin or Felix. A few even insisted the baby wasn’t real.

Meanwhile, in the dorm, the members hadn’t let Chan live it down.

At breakfast, Han held a spoon dramatically. “Here you go, baby. Open wide—oh wait, that’s Appa’s job.”

Hyunjin kept sighing dreamily. “I kissed the baby first. That means I’m the godfather.”

Felix just hugged Chan randomly every five minutes, whispering, “You’re such a good dad.”

Even Seungmin cracked a smirk, adding, “At least they didn’t think it was me. I’d never survive that chaos.”

And Jeongin? He just glared at everyone. “STOP SAYING I’M THE DAD.”

Chan buried his face in his hands, but you caught the way he peeked through his fingers, smiling. He was proud—even if he’d never admit it.

That night, after the teasing died down and the baby was asleep again, you curled against him in bed.

“Still mad?” you teased softly.

Chan chuckled, pulling you closer, his arm around both you and the baby nestled in his bassinet nearby. “Not mad. Just… I can’t believe we actually did that.”

You smiled, kissing his chest. “Worth it though, right?”

He tilted his head down, brushing a kiss against your hair. “Always worth it.”

And with the soft hum of his voice filling the room, you realized it didn’t matter what TikTok thought—your little family already knew the truth.

A/N: what will you comment if this video was real?

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (established relationship, married with a 2-month-old baby boy) Genre: Fluff, Family, Emotional Comfort, Found Family Word Count: ~ 5.6k Summary: It’s Bang Chan’s birthday, his first one as a father. You’ve planned the perfect surprise—bringing his family all the way from Australia to celebrate with him, alongside Stray Kids and your baby boy. Between laughter, tears, and chaos from the members, Chan is reminded of just how loved he truly is. This birthday becomes one he’ll never forget.

Our Little Family masterlist

The soft cry of your two-month-old baby stirred you awake before the sun had fully risen. You blinked your eyes open slowly, registering the little flailing arms beside you in the bassinet. Your lips tugged into a sleepy smile as you pushed the blankets aside.

“Shh, sweetheart,” you whispered, gently scooping your son into your arms. His tiny face scrunched, eyes still closed, but he settled almost immediately against your chest. You rubbed his back lightly as you padded toward the kitchen.

Today wasn’t just any morning. Today was Bang Chan’s birthday—his first one as a dad.

And you had a secret.

Glancing over your shoulder, you made sure the bedroom door was still closed. Chan had fallen asleep late last night, exhausted after a long day at the studio, but you’d been quietly buzzing with anticipation. For weeks, you had been planning something that would blow his mind—bringing his family from Australia here, to Korea, so he could celebrate with them, with Stray Kids, and with you and the baby.

The thought alone made your chest warm. You couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw his parents and siblings standing in the doorway.

“Gonna surprise Daddy today, huh?” you whispered to the baby, gently rocking him in your arms. His big eyes opened just slightly, staring up at you as though he already understood.

You gave him a kiss on the forehead before settling him into his bouncer seat in the kitchen. “Okay, buddy, let’s get this birthday started.”

You were halfway through whisking pancake batter when you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps.

“Babe?” Chan’s groggy voice carried from the hallway, still rough with sleep. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway, hair adorably messy, t-shirt hanging loose on his frame. The sight of him, sleepy-eyed and soft, still managed to make your heart skip.

“Morning, birthday boy,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice casual even though your stomach fluttered with the secret you were holding onto.

He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes with one hand, before his gaze dropped to the baby wiggling in the bouncer. Instantly, his whole face softened.

“Good morning, my little man,” Chan murmured, crouching down to stroke the baby’s cheek. Your son gurgled in response, little legs kicking happily at the sight of his dad.

You watched the two of them with quiet fondness. Chan scooped the baby up carefully, holding him close to his chest. “You’re the best birthday present I could ever ask for,” he whispered into the baby’s hair, voice almost breaking with emotion.

Your throat tightened. You wanted to tell him then and there about the surprise, but you bit it back, smiling instead. “Breakfast first, birthday speeches later. Sit down, I’ll feed you before you get too sentimental.”

Chan chuckled and carefully settled the baby against his shoulder as he sat at the table. “Sentimental? Me? Never.”

You served pancakes stacked high with fresh fruit, whipped cream, and a drizzle of syrup, placing them in front of Chan like a proud chef. His eyes widened.

“Woah, you went all out.”

“Of course I did. It’s your day.” You leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday, Chris.”

He turned his head to catch your lips with his, lingering for a moment before pulling back with that small, bashful smile you loved so much. “Thank you, love.”

As he ate, you busied yourself with tidying the kitchen, trying not to reveal the way your mind was racing with everything left to do: coordinating with his family’s arrival, making sure Stray Kids knew when to come by for the party, decorating the house without Chan catching on…

“So, uh,” Chan said between bites, looking up at you with suspiciously narrowed eyes. “What are you up to today?”

Your hands froze for just a second before you forced a casual shrug. “Me? Nothing much. Just, you know, looking after our tiny human. Maybe tidy up the living room.”

Chan gave you a knowing look. “That sounds like code for ‘I’m planning something, but I’m not telling you.’”

You smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just planning on binge-watching dramas while you change all the diapers today. Who knows?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I won’t ask. Just know you don’t have to do anything big, okay? Having you and him—” he gently stroked the baby’s back, “—that’s already everything to me.”

Your heart squeezed, but you kept your expression light. “Noted. Now eat your pancakes.”

The morning slipped by in easy warmth. After breakfast, you watched Chan stretch out on the couch with the baby curled on his chest, both of them dozing in the quiet sunlight streaming through the window. The sight was so perfect it almost made you forget about the chaos of the surprise party you had planned.

Almost.

Because while Chan was blissfully unaware, you quietly texted a flurry of updates in the group chat you’d made with Stray Kids (minus Chan, of course).

Group Chat: Birthday Mission 🎉 (minus Chan)

You: He’s asleep on the couch with the baby. Do not come early or he’ll suspect something. Felix: Copy that. I’ll bring the balloons. Gold and silver, right? You: Yes! Thank you, Lix 🥺 Han: Okay but question… do we get cake? Seungmin: It’s a birthday party. Of course there’s cake. Are you serious? Han: Don’t mock me, Seungminnie. I just wanted confirmation. Hyunjin: Also, can I be in charge of the photo corner? We need pretty pictures. You: As long as you don’t make Chan pose for Vogue, yes. I.N: I’ll help with setup! I can come early if you need extra hands. You: I might take you up on that. I’ll text you when he leaves for the studio. Changbin: I’ll handle the food run. Meat, snacks, drinks—you name it. Lee Know: Please don’t overbuy like last time. We don’t need enough chicken to feed half of Seoul. Changbin: …No promises. Seungmin: This is going to be chaotic. Hyunjin: That’s the point. You: Focus, kids. Cake later. Surprise first. ❤️

You put your phone down, smiling to yourself. If everything went according to plan, by tonight, Chan would have the birthday of a lifetime.

Later, as Chan got ready to head to the studio for a few hours (“Just because it’s my birthday doesn’t mean I can slack off,” he’d insisted), you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight.

“Don’t stay too late,” you murmured against his chest.

“I won’t,” he promised, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Good,” you said, hiding your grin. Because dinner wasn’t just dinner—it was the start of the party, the decorations, the Stray Kids chaos, and most importantly, the reunion waiting to happen.

You held him close for just a second longer, memorizing the calm before the storm.

“Happy birthday, Chan,” you whispered again, already imagining the look on his face tonight when everything unfolded.

The moment the front door clicked shut behind Chan, you pressed your ear against it for a second, making sure he was really gone. No jingling keys, no turning back because he forgot something. Just silence.

“Alright, soldier,” you whispered, looking down at the baby in your arms. “Mission: Daddy’s Birthday Surprise is officially a go.”

Your son blinked up at you, unimpressed.

You grinned anyway. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the cutest decoy we have.”

Plopping down on the couch, you immediately opened the group chat.

You: Okay, he’s gone. Move, move, move! Felix: On my way with balloons 🎈🎈🎈 Changbin: Already at the grocery store. I may or may not be buying three types of cake. Lee Know: You need only ONE cake. Put the extras back before I get there. Changbin: No. Hyunjin: Leaving the dorm now. I have props for the photo wall. Han: Do the props include fake moustaches? Please say yes. Hyunjin: Of course. Seungmin: Why do I feel like this is going to turn into a circus instead of a party? I.N: On my way! Should I pick up streamers? You: Yes! Bright colors, please. Thank you, maknae ❤️

You locked your phone, heart thudding with excitement. This was really happening.

Less than thirty minutes later, the first knock came. You shifted the baby against your shoulder and opened the door to reveal Felix, practically glowing as he stood there with an armful of balloons.

“Surprise squad, reporting for duty!” he cheered in his soft Aussie accent.

You quickly let him in, and the baby’s little face lit up at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“Ohhh, hello, mate,” Felix cooed, gently stroking your son’s cheek. “You’re part of the plan too, huh? Daddy has no idea.”

The baby gurgled, which Felix took as full agreement.

“Alright,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Living room first. We’ll cover the walls and ceiling with balloons before Chan even suspects a thing.”

One by one, the others arrived. Hyunjin walked in dramatically with a giant bag of props slung over his shoulder. “Picture corner king has arrived,” he announced, nearly tripping over Felix’s balloon string.

Han followed close behind, carrying a suspiciously lumpy bag. “Don’t ask what’s inside,” he warned. “Just know it’s essential.”

“Is it food?” you asked.

“…Maybe.”

Seungmin entered next, sighing deeply as he took in the scene. “I can already see this ending in disaster,” he muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched upward when the baby reached for his finger. “At least one of us is cute.”

“I heard that,” Han grumbled, pouting.

Then came Lee Know, carrying boxes of decorations that he somehow balanced perfectly while shutting the door with his foot. “We’re doing this properly,” he declared, eyeing the living room like a general surveying a battlefield.

Finally, the door burst open to reveal Changbin, juggling three shopping bags filled with snacks, drinks, and yes—three cakes. “Don’t judge me,” he said immediately when Lee Know glared.

Last was I.N, cheeks pink from the cold, arms stuffed with colorful streamers. “Sorry I’m late!” he said, though he wasn’t late at all. He quickly rushed over to the baby. “Hi, little buddy!”

The baby rewarded him with a wide, gummy smile.

“See, he likes me the best,” I.N bragged.

“He likes everyone,” Seungmin deadpanned.

“Still counts.”

The next hour was pure chaos—in the best way.

Felix and Hyunjin worked together to tape balloons to every available surface. Hyunjin occasionally stopped to take mirror selfies with the props, while Felix kept floating one balloon down for the baby to grab.

Han and Changbin fought over the snack table layout.

“Chips go in the middle,” Han insisted.

“No, meat first,” Changbin countered, holding up two giant platters of chicken.

“It’s not a barbecue, it’s a party!”

“It can be both!”

Lee Know eventually shoved them both aside and arranged the food himself. “Children,” he muttered.

Seungmin handled the music playlist, his face dead serious as he scrolled through his phone. “If we play anything embarrassing, I’m blaming all of you.”

“What counts as embarrassing?” Hyunjin asked, waving a feather boa around.

“Anything you’d dance to,” Seungmin replied without missing a beat.

Meanwhile, I.N crouched on the floor with the baby lying on a blanket beside him, gently dangling a streamer above the tiny fists. The baby squealed with laughter, his eyes shining as he grabbed at the paper.

You paused in the middle of hanging fairy lights just to take in the sight: your living room filled with laughter, balloons, and the people who meant the world to Chan.

This—this was exactly what you wanted for him.

At one point, Han sidled up to you with a mischievous grin. “So, when’s the big reveal?”

“Later tonight,” you whispered back, double-checking that no one had overheard. “Once Chan gets home, we’ll do cake, and then…” You grinned, heart racing. “His family shows up.”

Han’s eyes went wide. “Wait—you mean—like his actual family? From Australia?”

You nodded. “They landed this morning. They’re staying at a hotel for now, but I’ll text them when it’s time.”

Han slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp. “He’s going to cry so hard.”

“That’s the plan,” you said, grinning.

By late afternoon, the house looked like something out of a Pinterest board. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, balloons floated in bunches, a massive “HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAN” banner stretched across the wall, and the table overflowed with food. The baby had been passed around like royalty, each member taking turns holding him (with varying levels of success).

Hyunjin, surprisingly, was gentle and careful, rocking the baby with a soft hum. Felix kept making silly faces until he got a laugh. Changbin flexed his biceps dramatically while holding the baby like a weight, earning groans from everyone else. Han almost dropped him until Lee Know swooped in and scolded him for ten minutes straight.

But the baby? He was thriving in the middle of all the chaos, soaking up the love.

Finally, you checked your phone.

Text from Chan: On my way home. Be there in 20.

Your heart skipped.

You quickly typed into the group chat:

You: Positions, everyone! He’s coming home!

Felix fist-pumped. Hyunjin tossed the feather boa aside. Seungmin turned the music down to background level. Lee Know straightened the food table like it was a matter of life or death.

And you? You scooped up the baby, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you whispered, “Ready, buddy? Let’s give Daddy the best birthday of his life.”

The sound of Chan’s keys jingling in the lock made the entire living room freeze.

Felix whispered, “Everyone quiet!” even though half of them were already holding their breaths. Hyunjin dove behind the couch dramatically, and Han nearly dropped the feather boa he had refused to put down. Lee Know shot everyone a sharp glare, signaling silence.

You held your son close, bouncing him gently to keep him calm, your own heart thumping wildly in your chest.

The door swung open.

“Love? I’m home—” Chan called out, his voice casual. But the moment he stepped inside, he froze. His eyes darted across the living room, taking in the balloons, the streamers, the massive banner shouting HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAN, and the suspiciously stiff figures of his eight members barely containing their excitement.

“SUPRISE!!!” everyone shouted at once.

The baby startled slightly, then broke into a delighted squeal, as if joining in.

Chan’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he looked around. “What the—” He barely got the words out before Felix and Hyunjin ran forward and threw their arms around him, nearly knocking him back into the doorway.

“Happy birthday, hyung!” Felix beamed, his deep voice shaking with excitement.

“You should’ve seen your face!” Hyunjin laughed, pointing dramatically.

The others piled on, shouting their own greetings:

“Happy birthday, leader!” from I.N, already grinning ear-to-ear.

“We told you not to work too hard today,” Seungmin said dryly, though there was warmth in his eyes.

“Cake! Food! Party!” Han chanted, clearly impatient.

“I brought the meat,” Changbin declared proudly.

“And I made sure they didn’t ruin everything,” Lee Know added, arms crossed but smiling faintly.

Chan stood frozen for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at all of them. “You guys…” His voice cracked just slightly. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“We did,” Felix insisted. “Because you always do everything for us. It’s your turn, hyung.”

You stepped forward then, holding the baby, who waved his little fists as if trying to get his dad’s attention. “Happy birthday, Chris,” you said softly.

That’s when his composure really faltered. He quickly crossed the room and wrapped one arm around you, kissing your temple before leaning down to press his lips to the baby’s forehead. “This is perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

The members collectively cooed and groaned at the sight, Han muttering something about “too wholesome” while Hyunjin snapped photos like a paparazzi.

The party burst into full swing.

Music played from the speakers (thankfully Seungmin’s carefully curated playlist kept things safe), and the living room filled with laughter, food, and the kind of chaos only Stray Kids could bring.

Changbin stationed himself at the snack table, proudly guarding the platters of chicken as if they were national treasures. Han kept trying to sneak bites before the official “party start,” earning himself playful scoldings.

Lee Know moved through the room like a silent manager, fixing fallen balloons, straightening the banner, and making sure no one spilled drinks on the carpet.

Felix and Hyunjin set up their photo booth corner, pulling people in one by one to take silly pictures. At one point, Hyunjin managed to put the feather boa on the baby, declaring him “the true star of the night,” which caused Felix to nearly collapse from how cute it was.

Seungmin, predictably, found the most comfortable chair and sat down with the baby in his lap, quietly humming as the little one dozed off against him. “I’ll babysit,” he announced, which everyone accepted gratefully.

I.N flitted between helping Lee Know and laughing with Han, his energy bouncing off the walls. Every few minutes he checked in on you, asking if you needed anything, which warmed your heart.

And Chan?

Chan couldn’t stop smiling.

He moved through the room, hugging each member, thanking them over and over, his eyes sparkling with happiness. Every time he glanced at you and the baby, his smile softened even more.

“This is the best birthday,” he said when he finally circled back to you, voice quiet enough that only you heard. “I don’t know how you pulled this off.”

You smiled knowingly. “Maybe I had some help.”

Later, when it came time for cake, everyone gathered around the table.

“Make a wish, hyung!” Felix cheered as they lit the candles.

“Don’t take too long,” Han added. “The frosting is calling my name.”

Chan laughed, leaning down toward the cake. But just before blowing out the candles, he looked around the room—at his members, at you, at your son. His eyes shone.

And when he finally blew the candles out, you knew his wish had already come true.

But the night wasn’t over. Not yet.

As the members dug into cake and snacks, you quietly slipped away to the hallway, pulling your phone out. Your hands trembled just slightly as you typed a message.

You: Okay, we’re ready. You can come now.

A reply came almost immediately.

Chan’s Mum ❤️: We’re so excited. See you soon!

You took a deep breath, pressing your back against the wall for a moment to steady yourself. The members were loud in the living room, laughter spilling into every corner of the house. And soon, that laughter would mix with something else—tears, joy, the sound of family reunited.

You walked back into the room, heart racing, and caught Felix’s questioning look. He raised a brow, silently asking is it time?

You gave the tiniest nod.

Felix’s eyes widened, and he quickly nudged Hyunjin. The two of them barely contained their grins as they passed the silent message around. One by one, the members realized what was about to happen.

But Chan?

Chan was happily distracted, bouncing the baby gently on his knee while listening to Changbin and Han argue about who could eat more chicken. Completely unaware.

Your chest tightened. In just a few minutes, everything would change.

The knock came.

Three firm raps on the door.

The room went still.

Chan looked up in confusion. “Were we expecting someone else?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You met Felix’s gaze—he gave you an encouraging nod. Slowly, you stood, setting your plate aside.

“I’ll get it,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

The members shifted subtly, eyes wide with anticipation. The baby fussed just a little, as if sensing the tension in the room.

You reached the door. Your hand trembled on the handle.

And when you opened it—

There they were.

His mum. His dad. His sister and brother. All standing there with tears in their eyes and smiles stretched wide.

“Surprise,” his mum whispered.

Your own eyes filled instantly. You quickly stepped aside, voice breaking. “Come in.”

Chan’s family moved hesitantly into the doorway—his mum clutching a small wrapped gift, his dad with one arm around her shoulders, and his younger siblings trailing behind, all of them wearing matching emotional smiles.

The room had gone completely still. The members froze mid-bite, mid-sentence, mid-breath, all turning their eyes toward the door.

And Chan—

Chan’s whole body went rigid.

For a split second, his brain refused to process what he was seeing. His jaw slackened, the baby slipping just slightly in his arms before Seungmin instinctively reached over to steady him.

“Mum…?” Chan’s voice cracked, soft and disbelieving. “Dad?”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” his mother said gently, her own tears spilling now.

The dam broke.

Chan stood so quickly his chair scraped against the floor, nearly toppling over. The baby gave a startled squeak, but Chan hugged him close, eyes locked on the family he hadn’t seen in far too long.

He crossed the room in seconds, voice trembling. “No way—this can’t—” He stopped right in front of them, his chest heaving. “You’re really here?”

His mum nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek. “We wouldn’t miss your first birthday as a dad.”

That was it.

Tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, careful not to jostle the baby too much, and wrapped his free arm around his mum. His dad joined the embrace, his siblings pressed in from the sides, and suddenly Chan was in the middle of a pile of family, his baby boy squished safely between them.

The living room erupted—Felix clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide and shining; Hyunjin gasped so loudly it sounded like a drama scene; Han whispered, “I told you he’d cry!” while grinning through his own misty eyes.

Lee Know sniffled discreetly, pretending to rub his nose, while I.N wiped his eyes openly. Seungmin looked away, biting his lip, but you saw the shimmer in his gaze. Even Changbin, who was usually loud and upbeat, stood still with his hand pressed to his chest, lips trembling into a soft smile.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, unable to stop the tears rolling down your own cheeks. This—this was exactly what you’d imagined when you planned the surprise.

Chan finally pulled back, though his face was still streaked with tears. He shifted the baby slightly, lifting him so his mum could see.

“Look, Mum,” Chan whispered, his voice breaking with pride. “This is him… this is our little boy.”

His mother’s breath hitched. “Oh, Christopher…” She gently stroked the baby’s cheek with trembling fingers. “He’s beautiful. He looks just like you.”

The baby blinked up at her with wide, curious eyes, then gave a little coo as if in agreement.

Chan laughed through his tears, pressing his forehead briefly against his son’s. “He does, doesn’t he?”

His sister leaned in next, giggling softly. “He’s so tiny! Can I—can I hold him?”

Chan hesitated instinctively, protective dad mode flaring, but you placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s okay. They’ve been waiting for this.”

So, with careful guidance, he passed the baby into his sister’s arms. She cradled him like he was the most precious thing in the world, her face glowing with awe. His brother hovered close, peeking over her shoulder with wide eyes.

“He’s smiling at me!” she squeaked.

“No, he’s smiling at me,” his brother shot back, sticking out his tongue.

The baby, of course, smiled at both of them.

Everyone laughed, the tension breaking.

The members, never ones to stay quiet for long, quickly joined in the reunion chaos.

Felix stepped forward first, bowing politely before hugging Chan’s mum. “It’s so good to see you again,” he said warmly. “We’ve missed you.”

Hyunjin, not one for subtlety, fanned his face dramatically. “I can’t handle this—it’s like a K-drama reunion scene, but real life!”

Han nodded, eyes glassy. “I’d watch this show.”

Lee Know rolled his eyes but patted Chan’s shoulder firmly, a rare show of affection. “You deserve this.”

Seungmin, ever the voice of reason, carefully handed tissues to anyone crying—starting with Chan. “Here. Before you drown your son.”

That earned a watery laugh from Chan, who blew his nose ungracefully.

Changbin approached with a grin, handing Chan’s dad a plate of chicken like it was an offering. “Sir, please try this—it’s his favorite. Runs in the family, right?”

I.N shyly stepped forward, bowing politely to each of them. “I’m the maknae,” he introduced himself. “Thank you for coming—it means a lot to him.”

Chan looked at you then, his eyes glassy but filled with so much love it almost knocked the breath from your lungs. He mouthed, Thank you.

You smiled, blinking back your own tears, and mouthed back, Happy birthday.

Dinner that night turned into something magical.

The table was crowded, the food plentiful, and the laughter nonstop. Chan’s mum told stories from his childhood—embarrassing ones that made the members howl with laughter.

“Did you know,” she began with a grin, “Christopher once tried to make a music video in our backyard? He wore sunglasses bigger than his face and sang into a hairbrush.”

“MUM!” Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands as the members exploded into laughter.

Felix nearly choked on his drink. “Hyung, is this true?!”

“Don’t believe her,” Chan mumbled, his ears flaming red.

His dad chuckled. “It’s true. We have it on video somewhere.”

“Release the footage!” Han shouted. “For science!”

The baby fussed at the sudden noise, but Hyunjin quickly scooped him up, bouncing him gently. “Don’t worry, little one,” he cooed. “Your dad was adorable. Embarrassing, but adorable.”

Chan groaned again, this time louder.

Later, after everyone had eaten their fill, the group gathered in the living room again. Felix dimmed the lights, Hyunjin adjusted the fairy lights, and together, everyone began sharing little “birthday speeches.”

Felix went first, his voice thick with emotion. “Hyung, you’ve always been the one guiding us, taking care of us. Tonight’s about you—and seeing your family here makes me so happy. You deserve this more than anyone.”

“Agreed,” Seungmin said firmly. “Don’t argue.”

Changbin clapped him on the back. “You’re the best leader, hyung. And the best hyung, period.”

Even Han got serious for once. “I complain a lot, but… I hope you know how much we love you. We’re loud about everything else, but with you—we’d follow you anywhere.”

Lee Know added simply, “You’re family.”

Hyunjin dabbed his eyes dramatically. “Stop it, you guys, I’m gonna ruin my eyeliner.”

Chan laughed through his tears, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re all ridiculous.”

But his voice cracked again when his mum leaned forward, taking his hand.

“Christopher,” she said softly. “We’ve always been proud of you. But tonight, seeing you as a father, surrounded by all these people who love you… We’ve never been prouder.”

That did it.

Chan broke down completely, covering his face with one hand while holding tightly to you with the other. You squeezed his fingers, leaning into him, your own tears falling freely.

The baby, as if sensing the moment, reached out a tiny hand to pat his dad’s chest. And that, somehow, made Chan cry harder—though this time, through his tears, he laughed too.

The night ended with music, laughter, and the sight of Chan holding his son, surrounded by his family and the members who had become his brothers. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes swollen from crying, but his smile—his smile glowed brighter than anything in the room.

It was a birthday he would never, ever forget.

And it wasn’t over yet. Tomorrow would bring quiet moments, more family time, and maybe even a chance to rest. But tonight? Tonight was perfect.

The house was finally quiet.

It had taken nearly an hour to usher everyone out the door—his family with long hugs and promises to spend the whole weekend together, the members with playful protests and last-minute snack raids. You’d caught Han sneaking one of the leftover cupcakes into his jacket pocket, only for Lee Know to smack the back of his head and tell him to “just take the whole container.”

Now, though, the silence felt like a warm blanket. Fairy lights still glowed softly in the living room, casting a golden hue over the scattered decorations and the mess of empty plates. The only sound was the gentle hum of the baby monitor.

Chan sank onto the couch with a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping for what felt like the first time all day. You slid in beside him, curling up close, and he immediately pulled you into his side, his arm firm around you.

For a moment, he just sat there, breathing, grounding himself.

Then, quietly, he whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a birthday like this.”

You tilted your head up at him, smiling softly. “Good or bad?”

He turned, meeting your eyes. His own were still a little puffy, rimmed red from hours of crying, but they glowed with warmth. “The best. The absolute best.”

A soft cry drifted in from the nursery.

Chan immediately pushed himself up, though you reached for his arm. “I’ll get him—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, already moving. “I’ve got him.”

You watched as he disappeared down the hall, your heart swelling at the sight. A few moments later, he returned with your son cradled against his chest. The baby was fussing softly, but the second Chan sat back down and began humming low under his breath, those tiny cries faded into quiet coos.

Chan smiled down at him, brushing a thumb over his little cheek. “Guess you wanted to join us, huh, mate?”

The baby blinked up at him, yawning wide enough to make you giggle.

Chan looked up at you then, his expression tender in a way that made your chest ache. “He met my family today.” His voice broke a little. “My mum held him. My sister got to cuddle him. They all got to see him. That’s… that’s everything I wanted.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers over his hand where it supported the baby’s head. “That’s why I planned it. I knew how much you missed them, Chan. And I knew how much they missed you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes shimmering again. “I don’t even know how to thank you. You gave me…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. “You gave me the best gift of my life.”

“You already have the best gift,” you teased, nodding toward the tiny bundle in his arms.

Chan chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “True. But you made today perfect. Both of you did.”

For a long while, the three of you simply sat there—Chan holding the baby, you leaning into his side, the world hushed and still.

Then Chan broke the silence again, his voice low. “When I was a trainee, I used to dream about this. Not just debuting, not just making music—but having a family. A home. People who love me like this.”

You turned, watching him intently.

“I used to wonder if it was even possible,” he continued. “With my schedule, with everything… I worried I’d have to choose between music and family. But tonight…” He glanced down at his son, then at you. “Tonight proved I don’t have to. I can have both.”

Tears pricked your eyes at his words, but you blinked them away, kissing his shoulder softly. “Of course you can. And you deserve both, Chan.”

He exhaled shakily, leaning his cheek against your hair. “I’m so lucky. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

The baby gave a little wriggle, kicking his legs. Chan chuckled, shifting him carefully. “You think so too, huh?”

The baby made a small noise, something between a coo and a squeak.

“See?” Chan grinned. “Even he agrees.”

You laughed, covering your mouth. “Already siding with you. I’m in trouble.”

Chan leaned over, kissing your temple. “You’re not in trouble. You’re everything.”

The night stretched on, the kind of quiet, intimate hours that felt suspended outside of time. At one point, the baby finally drifted back to sleep, and Chan insisted on tucking him back into the crib himself. You watched from the doorway as he bent over, gently patting his son’s chest, humming until the little breaths evened out.

When he turned back to you, he looked wrecked and beautiful all at once—his hair messy, his shirt rumpled, his eyes tired but shining.

Back in the living room, he tugged you onto his lap on the couch, burying his face against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered again, muffled against your skin. “For today. For him. For us.”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. “Happy birthday, Chan.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft. “Best one yet.”

And then he kissed you—slow, lingering, filled with all the gratitude and love words couldn’t quite hold.

Later, as you both finally headed to bed, you glanced back at the fairy lights still glowing faintly in the living room. The house still smelled faintly of cake and fried chicken, laughter seemed to linger in the air, and your heart felt impossibly full.

Chan slipped his hand into yours as you climbed into bed, fingers lacing tightly with yours. “Next year,” he murmured sleepily, already half-drifting, “we’ll do it again. Maybe even bigger.”

You laughed softly, brushing his hair back. “Bigger? You’ll cry even more.”

“Worth it,” he mumbled.

You kissed his forehead, watching his breathing slow, his body finally relaxing after the long, emotional day. Your baby stirred softly in the next room, safe and loved.

And as you lay there between the steady heartbeat of your husband and the soft sound of your child, you knew—this birthday wasn’t just a celebration. It was a promise. A memory etched forever.

For Bang Chan, it was the start of a new chapter—one filled with music, laughter, family, and love.

And he would never forget it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff, Humor, Family, Wholesome, Pregnancy Word Count: ~ 6,500 Summary: Bang Chan leaves for Milan, and you’re left in the care of his chaotic, loving members. Pillow forts, snack disasters, and laughter ensue until Chan returns for the sweetest reunion.

——————————————————————————————————

The morning sunlight streamed gently through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the bedroom. You shifted slightly in the sheets, feeling the familiar weight of your growing belly and the fluttering kicks that had become a daily rhythm of life. Beside you, Bang Chan stirred, stretching with that lazy morning smile that made your heart flutter even on the hardest days.

“Morning, my favorite human,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He reached over and rested a hand on your belly, feeling a gentle kick in response. “Ah… I think someone wants breakfast before I leave.”

You laughed softly, a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “It’s nine in the morning. Do you really have to leave for Milan today?” The words came out quieter than you intended, tinged with the anxiety that had been building since last night.

Bang Chan propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze softening. “I have to, love. Fendi Milan Fashion Week doesn’t wait for anyone. But…” He leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’m not going to let you feel alone while I’m gone. I promised you, and I keep my promises.”

You reached out instinctively, curling your hand over his. The warmth of his fingers always seemed to soothe the small worries that bubbled in your chest. “I know… it’s just… a whole week. Seven whole days without you. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Bang Chan’s lips curved into a playful, reassuring smile. “Hey, hey, you’ve survived every other day without me. And guess what? You’ve got the best team in the world to help you while I’m gone. My boys—your boys—will practically pamper you like a queen.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism bubbling. “Oh? You mean the same people who argue over what snacks are allowed in the fridge and who keep leaving their shoes in my hallway?”

“Exactly those people,” he said with mock pride, “but they’re experts in the art of spoiling you. You’ll see.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Besides, I’ll be calling every day. Video calls, texts, maybe even a surprise delivery or two.”

You tried to hide the small grin tugging at your lips, but he caught it anyway. Bang Chan loved that about you—your expressions were never secret from him.

“I’ll miss you,” you admitted quietly.

He hummed, resting his forehead against yours. “And I’ll miss you too. But we’ll make it through. And I’ll come back, and we’ll have… a little celebration. Just the three of us,” he said, tapping your belly softly, eliciting another fluttering kick.

The morning passed in a flurry of quiet preparations. He insisted on making you breakfast, even though you protested. “You need your energy,” he said, sliding a plate of eggs, toast, and fruit in front of you. “And I need my last breakfast with my favorite person before I leave.”

As you ate, the reality settled in. Soon, he would be gone, bustling through the airport and boarding a plane while you stayed behind, your comfort in the hands of the boys. But the thought of him leaving didn’t feel quite as scary with his calm presence still nearby.

Finally, the moment arrived. Bang Chan stood in the doorway, luggage in hand, trying to mask the flutter of nerves you couldn’t help but notice. You walked over, resting a hand on his chest. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“Every day,” he said, bending to press a long, lingering kiss on your lips. “And promise me you’ll let the boys take care of you without driving them crazy.”

You smirked. “No promises about that. But I’ll survive.”

With a final hug that left both of you reluctant to let go, he headed for the door. You watched him go, feeling the bittersweet tug of longing in your chest. The apartment suddenly felt emptier, quieter—but you knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

The sound of your phone buzzing brought a small smile to your lips. A group chat notification from the boys: “Mission: Take Care of Y/N Initiated.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. If anyone could keep you sane while Bang Chan was away, it was these boys, even if they did make a mess of things along the way.

And so, the week began.

The first sound you heard after Bang Chan left was a knock at the door. You groaned, pressing a hand against your belly as the familiar chattering voices filtered through.

“Y/N! Are you ready? We brought snacks!”

You opened the door to find the boys crowded in the hallway, a chaotic mix of energy and excitement. Lee Know was balancing a tray of freshly made sandwiches, Hyunjin had a bouquet of flowers (because apparently, your apartment needed “vibes”), and Han was already scanning the room for potential hazards.

“Guys… it’s been five minutes since Chan left,” you muttered, stepping aside to let them in. “You don’t need to—”

“Five minutes is too long to let you fend for yourself!” Changbin interrupted, dropping dramatically onto the couch. Felix tugged at his sleeves nervously, carrying a small bottle of vitamins. “We are here. Officially. Mission: Pamper Y/N has begun.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. This was going to be… something.

Lee Know immediately insisted on making breakfast. You sat at the kitchen counter, watching him try to juggle pans and eggs like some kind of clumsy chef.

“Lee Know… maybe you should let someone else—” you started.

“No way,” he said, cracking an egg… directly onto the counter instead of the pan. You winced. “I’ve got this. I watched every cooking show ever. I’m basically a pro.”

Hyunjin, meanwhile, was hovering dramatically nearby. “Actually, I think I should supervise. It’s for aesthetics. The presentation matters!”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

Changbin leaned over, trying to help. “Here, let me do it. I’ve got strong hands. Strong hands make good pancakes.”

The result? Pancakes that resembled abstract art more than food, scrambled eggs with a suspicious char, and a kitchen that looked like a mini tornado had passed through. But when they plopped the food onto a plate and handed it to you with triumphant smiles, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You guys… this is chaos,” you said between bites. “But it’s kind of… cute?”

Once the “breakfast disaster” was behind them, the boys moved on to other aspects of your care.

Han and Felix took it upon themselves to create a mini schedule for you: nap times, snack times, gentle exercises, and even “fun times” that involved watching your favorite shows. They handed you a little booklet titled Y/N’s Official Care Plan that had doodles and stickers.

Lee Know and Hyunjin made a blanket fort in the living room, claiming it was for “optimal comfort and relaxation.” You climbed in with a sigh of amusement, surrounded by pillows and twinkling fairy lights.

Changbin and Seungmin were stationed by your side to make sure you never reached for anything heavy or did anything that could strain you. Changbin, overprotective as ever, would occasionally scoop you up in a hug just to make sure you “didn’t fall.”

I.N was… well, I.N. He followed you around with a tray of water and snacks, offering his tiny shoulder for head rests at inopportune moments. “You should sit! Sit! No, don’t reach for that, please!” he’d squeak.

At first, the constant attention was overwhelming, but as the day went on, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. These boys—Bang Chan’s family, your family—were trying, in their own chaotic ways, to take care of you.

The first pregnancy craving hit mid-afternoon. You muttered something about wanting pickles and ice cream. Immediately, three sets of shoes were running to the convenience store: Lee Know, Felix, and I.N. Hyunjin had suggested adding edible flowers for “presentation,” and Han was furiously calculating calorie intake to “balance” your diet.

When they returned, bags in hand, the assortment of snacks was… impressive. Pickles? Check. Ice cream? Double check. A random pack of gummy bears “for morale”? Absolutely.

You sat back, eating in peace while the boys fussed around. Changbin adjusted your blanket, Seungmin organized the snacks into neat piles, and I.N hovered with a straw for your drink. You couldn’t help but laugh through the chaos.

Even in Bang Chan’s absence, it felt like home—warm, loud, and filled with people who genuinely loved you.

As the evening approached, the boys wanted to cheer you up further. Lee Know suggested a mini “fashion show” in the living room, Hyunjin helped style the outfits, Han created a judging panel, and Changbin acted as security.

You ended up giggling through three rounds of dramatic walks, pillow-cape costumes, and impromptu music performances. Even I.N managed to “walk the runway” without tripping, which became a victory celebrated with exaggerated cheers.

When the chaos finally settled, you sat back in your blanket fort, exhausted but content. The apartment smelled faintly of burnt pancakes and snacks, and the fairy lights twinkled softly.

Your phone buzzed. A video call from Bang Chan.

“Hey, love,” he said, grinning from across the screen. “How’s my queen doing? Managed to survive the first day without me?”

You smiled, looking around at the boys sprawled lazily on the couch, exhausted from their “caretaking duties.” “Barely,” you said, laughing. “But your boys… they’re trying. It’s… kind of adorable.”

Bang Chan’s eyes softened. “I knew I could trust them. And… I miss you.”

You held the phone closer, feeling your belly flutter as if in agreement. “I miss you too, Chan. But… they’re keeping me alive so far.”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart ache and bloom all at once. “Good. Keep surviving, my love. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, the boys returned to their antics, leaving you in a messy, chaotic, and undeniably loving home. It wasn’t perfect—but then again, perfection was overrated when surrounded by family.

The next morning, you woke to the faint aroma of something cooking—or, more accurately, something attempting to cook. You groaned, resting a hand on your belly as a familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

“Y/N! Good morning! Breakfast is… almost ready!”

It was Lee Know, his voice slightly panicked. You peeked into the kitchen to see him juggling a pan, two eggs, and a small fire on the stovetop. Hyunjin hovered over his shoulder, holding a fire extinguisher just in case.

You covered your face with your hands, laughing. “How is it that breakfast is always a near-apocalyptic event here?”

Changbin appeared, tossing a towel over his shoulder like a heroic firefighter. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this under control!” He moved closer, accidentally knocking over a bowl of flour, which puffed into a small white cloud.

You laughed so hard you had to sit down. “I swear, if Chan saw this, he’d… probably laugh and cry at the same time.”

No sooner had the disaster breakfast been contained than another pregnancy craving hit. You muttered something about wanting grilled cheese sandwiches with honey, pickles on the side, and a large glass of milk. Immediately, Lee Know, Hyunjin, and Han erupted into a flurry of movement, each trying to claim the honor of fulfilling your request.

“Pickles first, obviously,” Hyunjin argued, dramatically holding up a jar. “Presentation matters!”

“No, milk! You can’t have honey without milk!” Han shouted, pulling out a measuring cup like he was performing a chemistry experiment.

Meanwhile, Changbin had already started buttering the bread, muttering, “Don’t worry, I got this. Y/N deserves the best.” Felix quietly organized all the ingredients in neat little piles, muttering about efficiency, while I.N stood at your side, offering moral support.

By the time the sandwiches were finally assembled, they looked… not bad at all. Maybe slightly chaotic, but edible. You smiled, grateful for the effort. “You guys… I think this is the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had,” you said, laughing.

Later in the afternoon, you felt a sudden twinge of discomfort. Pregnancy came with its joys and challenges, and this one was decidedly on the uncomfortable side. You groaned softly, clutching your belly.

The boys immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Changbin asked, panic in his voice.

“It’s… just a cramp,” you reassured, but the boys weren’t having it.

“Cramp?!” Seungmin asked, eyes wide. “We need a plan! Quick!”

Han grabbed a notebook and started jotting down “symptoms and emergency responses,” Felix ran to fetch a heating pad, and I.N hovered with a water bottle. Lee Know and Hyunjin guided you to the couch, fussing over pillows to make you comfortable. Changbin sat beside you, gently rubbing your back.

You couldn’t help but smile through the mix of worry and care. “You guys… you’re spoiling me,” you said, voice soft.

“You’re supposed to be spoiled!” Changbin replied, tone fierce but eyes gentle. “We’re not letting anything happen to you.”

As the afternoon turned into evening, the boys settled into quieter routines. Seungmin helped you organize your snacks neatly on a tray, Felix massaged your feet carefully, and I.N leaned against the couch, offering tiny comforting touches whenever he could.

Hyunjin sat beside you, holding your hand. “You’re doing amazing, Y/N. I mean it,” he said softly. “I know it’s not easy.”

You glanced around at them all—their faces, filled with genuine concern and affection—and felt your heart swell. “I know,” you whispered, “and I’m so grateful. I feel… really lucky.”

Even in Bang Chan’s absence, his presence was felt in every little act of care. You realized that this—this chaotic, loud, messy, yet tender environment—was exactly the kind of family he had built around you.

Eventually, the boys settled around you on the couch, watching a show you all enjoyed. Lee Know had made “safe” snacks this time, Hyunjin was curled up beside you, and Changbin had claimed a protective corner. Han was explaining some random trivia, Felix quietly observed, Seungmin made sure everyone stayed hydrated, and I.N rested his head on your lap, blinking sleepily.

You rested your hand on your belly, feeling the baby kick in response. “I think… they like it here,” you murmured, smiling.

Felix grinned. “Of course they do. Who wouldn’t love being spoiled by all of us?”

Seungmin nudged you gently. “And you’re doing an amazing job too. Taking care of yourself is important.”

You leaned back, taking in the sight of all of them—Bang Chan’s family, your family—working together to make you feel safe, loved, and cared for. Even in the midst of chaos, there was a steady current of love that ran through the room, warm and constant.

And for the first time since Bang Chan left, you felt a sense of peace. Yes, you missed him, but you were surrounded by a family who would hold you up, laugh with you, and love you just as fiercely.

The apartment was quiet for once. You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, the faint hum of a fan in the background. The day had been long—full of the boys bustling around, trying to take care of you, and your own restless energy from missing Bang Chan.

Your phone buzzed. A familiar notification lit up the screen: a video call from him.

“Hey, love,” Bang Chan’s face appeared, framed by the Milan skyline behind him. He looked impossibly handsome in a tailored suit, but the tired glint in his eyes gave away how busy he was. “How’s my queen doing?”

You smiled, feeling your chest warm despite the distance. “I’m… surviving. Barely. The boys are… chaotic, but adorable.”

Bang Chan laughed, the sound making your heart ache. “I can imagine. I swear, if I wasn’t here, they’d probably set the apartment on fire.”

“Honestly, it’s been like a comedy show,” you said, holding the phone closer so he could see the aftermath of pancake disasters and snack piles. “But they’re trying. I think they genuinely want to take care of me.”

He smiled softly. “Good. I knew I could trust them. But… I miss you. And the baby too.”

You laughed quietly, resting a hand on your belly. “The baby’s kicking right now. Maybe it misses you too.”

Just as you were about to answer, the boys barged into the room like a whirlwind. Lee Know was holding a tray of snacks, Hyunjin had fashioned a makeshift crown out of tinfoil, and I.N was carrying a small stuffed animal.

“Surprise! We’re here for emotional support!” Changbin announced, flopping onto the couch beside you.

Bang Chan’s eyes widened on the screen. “What… is happening?”

“We’re keeping your queen entertained!” Han said, dramatically pointing to a notebook full of schedules and trivia. “We’ve planned a whole day of fun and pampering!”

“You guys… I see,” Bang Chan said, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “I swear, they’re spoiling you rotten.”

“They’re not wrong,” you admitted, trying not to laugh as Felix helped you adjust a pillow behind your back. Seungmin offered a glass of water, while Hyunjin demonstrated an overly dramatic runway walk around the living room.

“Wow… that’s… impressive,” Bang Chan said, chuckling. “I can’t compete with that, I think.”

“Oh, you don’t have to compete,” you said softly. “We all know you’re the best. Even if the boys are… very enthusiastic.”

Not content to let the moment pass quietly, the boys decided it was time for a “mini fashion show.” They convinced you to participate, draping you in blankets and scarves, insisting you do a dramatic walk for Bang Chan to see.

“You’re beautiful,” Bang Chan said, laughing through the video call. “I love seeing you smile like that.”

“And we love making you smile!” Hyunjin shouted, spinning in a circle like a tornado.

Things quickly devolved into a pillow fight. Feathers floated in the air, the boys shrieking and laughing, while you tried to dodge the softer blows. I.N ended up on your lap, laughing uncontrollably, and Changbin protected you from any stray pillows like a knight guarding a queen.

Bang Chan watched the chaos with a fond smile. “You’re all ridiculous,” he said. “But… I love this. I love seeing you happy.”

By the end of the evening, the boys had finally settled down. Lee Know made a small snack plate for you, Han dimmed the lights, and Felix quietly fluffed your pillows. You sat on the couch, tired but happy, holding your phone to your chest.

“I wish I could be there,” Bang Chan said softly. “I hate missing moments like this.”

“I know,” you said, voice small but warm. “But… seeing you, even like this, helps. And the boys… they’re keeping me sane.”

Bang Chan smiled, brushing a hand over the screen as if he could touch you. “I promise, as soon as this week is over, I’m coming home. And we’ll celebrate. Just you, me, and our little one.”

You rested your head on a pillow, feeling the baby kick gently. “I can’t wait.”

Even with the distance, even with the chaos, even with the longing tugging at your chest, you felt loved. The boys had created a bubble of warmth, laughter, and care around you—and Bang Chan, across the world, was just a call away.

For a moment, everything felt… perfect.

The apartment was unusually quiet that morning. The boys had decided to take a rare break, giving you some peace after a particularly chaotic week of pampering and playful chaos. You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, feeling your baby kick softly, when a sudden knock at the door startled you.

“Who…?” you muttered, swinging the door open.

And there he was. Bang Chan. Standing in the doorway, looking impossibly handsome, his suitcases abandoned at his feet as he grinned at you like he had just walked out of a dream.

“Chan…” Your voice broke into a mixture of shock, laughter, and tears.

“I missed you,” he said, stepping forward, dropping his bags, and enveloping you in a warm, tight hug. His arms cradled you, careful of your growing belly. “I couldn’t wait until Milan was over. I needed to come home… to you.”

You sobbed softly into his shoulder, your hands resting over his as he gently rubbed your back. “I missed you so much… the boys… they were… amazing… but I missed you.”

“And I missed you,” he whispered, tilting your chin up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “And our little one,” he added, pressing a hand gently to your belly.

The baby kicked in response, and Bang Chan’s eyes lit up. “I think someone’s happy to see me too.”

The boys erupted from the living room, unable to contain themselves. “CHAN!” Changbin shouted, barreling toward him for a hug, while Lee Know and Hyunjin nearly collided in excitement. I.N ran in, waving a small handmade welcome home sign.

“You came back!” Felix exclaimed, grinning, his arms full of snacks. “We did good, right? We took care of everything perfectly!”

Bang Chan laughed, kneeling down slightly to meet I.N’s excited face. “I can see that. Thank you, boys… seriously.”

Seungmin adjusted his glasses, trying to appear composed. “We did our best.”

“And it was adorable,” you added, smiling through your tears. “You all… you really kept me sane.”

Han dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “We are the ultimate caretakers!”

Bang Chan shook his head, laughing, and scooped you up into a gentle hug. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you all.”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of laughter, food, and playful chaos. The boys were determined to celebrate Bang Chan’s return, insisting on recreating their “mini fashion show” from earlier in the week.

“Y/N, you have to walk the runway again!” Hyunjin demanded, draping a scarf over your shoulders.

“Only if Chan watches,” you said, smirking.

Bang Chan clapped his hands, grinning. “Do it. Show me what I missed.”

Blankets became capes, pillows became props, and the living room transformed into a stage. You and the boys paraded around, laughing and joking, while Bang Chan cheered and clapped enthusiastically from the couch.

At one point, the baby kicked hard, and you gasped, smiling. Bang Chan immediately placed a hand over your belly. “Hello in there,” he whispered. “Daddy’s home.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and the boys collectively melted at the sight. “Awwww,” they chorused. “So cute!”

Eventually, the chaos settled, and the apartment became calm. You and Bang Chan sat together, leaning into each other on the couch, while the boys occupied themselves in quieter corners—reading, snacking, or quietly teasing one another.

“You know,” you said softly, resting your head on his shoulder, “I don’t know how I would’ve survived without them. But having you back… it feels perfect.”

Bang Chan kissed your hair, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “We’re a family,” he murmured. “All of us. And I promise, nothing will ever take that away. Not Milan, not a week apart… nothing.”

Your hand instinctively went to his, intertwining fingers. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he said, eyes soft and warm. “More than anything. And I love you so much for carrying our baby. You’re amazing.”

The baby kicked again, and Bang Chan’s eyes sparkled. “I think our little one agrees.”

Before the evening ended, the boys insisted on a group hug—a chaotic, laughter-filled, warm embrace. Changbin grabbed you first, pulling you into his chest, while Seungmin gently hugged Bang Chan. Lee Know and Hyunjin pressed in from the sides, I.N perched on your lap, and Felix wrapped his arms around everyone else.

Bang Chan held you close in the center, his chin resting lightly on your head. “This… this is my favorite view,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “All of us… together.”

You smiled, your heart full. “Family,” you said softly.

“Exactly,” he replied.

Pairing: bang chan x reader + stray kids (protective!family) Word count: ~4,820 Content warnings: age gap, public harassment (fan hate), mild angst Summary: Dating Bang Chan comes with a love that feels like home… and judgment from a world that refuses to understand. The age gap is all anyone seems to see, but you and Chan know it’s real, it’s worth it. When hate grows louder and strangers cross the line, the other seven boys step in teasing, protecting, and reminding you that love doesn’t need permission.

——————————————————————————————————

The glow of Chan’s laptop lit up the dim room, casting soft blue shadows across his face. You leaned against the arm of the couch, watching as his fingers flew across the keys. His brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was that faint, familiar curve at the corners of his mouth—the one that always appeared when he was working on music.

Even in moments like this, you couldn’t help but notice the age gap between the two of you. Not in a bad way, but in little things: the way he carried himself with responsibility, the late nights spent mixing songs instead of scrolling endlessly on social media like you sometimes did, the gentle way he always checked if you’d eaten before he worried about himself.

“Staring again?” Chan’s deep voice broke the silence, pulling you from your thoughts. Without looking up, he smirked knowingly, his Australian accent curling around the words.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “I wasn’t staring. I was… observing.”

He finally glanced at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Observing, huh? What exactly are you observing, then?”

“That you’re a workaholic,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “It’s like… midnight, Chan. Normal people would be asleep.”

He chuckled, swiveling his chair so he could face you fully. “And yet, here you are, sitting with me instead of sleeping. What does that make you?”

“Someone who’s worried about you,” you countered softly.

At that, Chan’s teasing expression softened into something gentler, something that made your chest ache. He pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to sit beside you on the couch. His arm slipped naturally around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know I’m okay, right? I’ve been doing this for years.” His voice was calm, reassuring, but you could hear the weariness beneath it.

You rested your head against his shoulder, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of his cologne. “I know… but you don’t always have to carry everything alone.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The hum of the computer filled the silence, along with the distant sounds of the city outside. Then Chan tilted his head, pressing a light kiss to the top of your hair.

“Sometimes I forget you’re younger than me,” he murmured. “Then you say things like that, and I realize you see straight through me.”

You smiled faintly. “Age doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you, too.”

He chuckled, a low and warm sound, but he didn’t argue. His thumb traced idle circles against your arm, a soothing gesture that made your eyelids grow heavier by the second.

But just as you were about to drift off, the door burst open.

“Hyung, do you know what time—oh.” Han stopped mid-sentence when he spotted you curled up next to Chan. His wide eyes darted between the two of you, then softened into a teasing grin. “Wow. So this is why you haven’t been answering our group chat.”

You sat up quickly, embarrassed, but Chan only tightened his arm around you. “What do you want, Hannie?” he asked, sounding unimpressed but not truly annoyed.

Han plopped into a chair across from you, swinging it back and forth. “Nothing. Just making sure you didn’t collapse in here from overworking. But clearly…” He gave you a mischievous look. “You’ve got someone keeping you in check.”

Your face warmed, but before you could respond, the familiar heavy footsteps of Changbin approached from the hallway. He leaned in the doorway just long enough to give you a sharp, appraising look — the sort of look that made you straighten reflexively — then offered the briefest, almost-grudging smile. “You two being cute again?” he asked, voice blunt but not unkind.

Han made a dramatic show of wiping away a fake tear. “It’s too much.”

Chan groaned good-naturedly. “Leave it, Bin.”

“You’re lucky they let the rest of us rest,” Changbin continued, crossing his arms. “Boss of the studio doing presentations of cuteness on the couch.” He gave you a quick once-over, and something gentler flickered in his eyes. “Hope you’re not getting bossed around, kid.”

You laughed, relieved. “I’m not getting bossed around. I boss him around sometimes.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “She’s right. She nags me into taking breaks.”

Changbin snorted. “Good. Someone should.”

After Han finally left and Changbin drifted back out to grab his jacket, Chan leaned his forehead against yours, sighing. “I swear, they’re all out to embarrass me.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I think they just love you. And maybe… us.”

He cupped your cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned into his touch. “Don’t say that. You do. More than you think.”

For a moment, the world felt quiet—just the two of you, the faint hum of the computer, and the comfort of being close. Age gap or not, worries or not, you knew one thing with certainty: being with Bang Chan felt like home.

The next afternoon, the dorm was buzzing with noise. Someone had the TV blaring in the background, a mix of game sounds and music videos, while the smell of something vaguely burnt wafted from the kitchen. You had barely stepped through the door with Chan when a chorus of voices greeted you.

“Y/N’s here!” Felix’s voice rang out, cheerful as ever. He rushed over, nearly tripping over a shoe left in the hallway, and wrapped you in a quick hug. His smile was warm, freckles glowing in the afternoon light. “We were just about to order food. You’ve got good timing.”

“I told you I wasn’t lying,” Han called from the couch. He had a controller in his hands and Hyunjin leaning over his shoulder, watching the screen intently. “Chan-hyung said Y/N might come by, but you all doubted me.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” Seungmin said from the other end of the couch, expression flat but eyes glinting. “I just didn’t care.”

“Wow. Love you too,” Han muttered.

Chan laughed, setting a hand on your back to guide you further inside. “Don’t mind them. They’ve been restless all day.”

“Restless because someone kept hogging the bathroom for an hour this morning,” I.N piped up from the dining table, where he was scrolling on his phone. His sharp look darted toward Hyunjin, who gasped dramatically.

“It was skincare, not hogging!” Hyunjin protested.

You laughed quietly, already used to the chaos. Being around the members had become surprisingly natural, though it hadn’t started that way. Their warmth had gradually melted your initial nervousness. Now, it almost felt like you were part of their mismatched, noisy family.

As you sat down on the couch next to Chan, Hyunjin finally noticed and arched a brow. “So… you’re really bringing them around more often, huh, hyung?”

Chan raised a brow. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Hyunjin drawled, smirking. “It’s just funny watching you act all soft. You used to yell at us for leaving socks everywhere, but now you’re like…” He pitched his voice higher, mockingly affectionate. “Did you eat yet, Y/N? Are you warm enough, Y/N?”

The room erupted in laughter, and you felt your face heat up. “Hyunjin—” you started, but Chan groaned before you could finish.

“You’re dead, Jinnie,” Chan muttered, grabbing a cushion to smack him with. Hyunjin yelped, ducking out of reach as the others laughed even harder.

Felix leaned closer to you, whispering conspiratorially, “He’s been worse since you came around. We’ve never seen him so soft.”

Your cheeks grew warmer, but before you could reply, Changbin slid into the spot beside Han, arms folded but eyes amused. “He’s easier to mess with now. You two are a walking disaster—cute disaster.” He reached, briefly ruffling Chan’s hair, then fixed you with a look that said, in plain language, I’ll take care of you if anyone tries anything.

You blinked, caught off guard by his un-showy protectiveness.

Later, when the food finally arrived, you found yourself in the kitchen helping Felix unpack the bags. He passed you a box of chicken, his expression thoughtful.

“You know,” he said softly, “we tease a lot, but we’re really glad you’re around.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. “Really?”

He nodded, smile gentle. “He carries so much all the time. With you, he… relaxes. He’s happier. And…” Felix hesitated, glancing back toward the living room where Changbin and Han were play-fighting over who’d get the last fry. “We all want to make sure you’re happy too. You’re important to him. Which means you’re important to us.”

Your throat tightened a little at the unexpected kindness. “Thanks, Lix. That… means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.” He winked playfully before calling out, “Food’s here, everyone!”

The stampede that followed was immediate. You barely managed to set the boxes down before the others crowded the table, reaching for chopsticks and drinks.

“Y/N, sit here,” Seungmin said suddenly, pulling out the chair beside him.

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, um—thanks.”

“Safer spot,” he explained, as if it were obvious. When you looked at him curiously, he shrugged. “If these animals fight over chicken, at least you won’t get caught in the middle.”

Sure enough, a moment later, Han and I.N were arguing over the last drumstick while Hyunjin tried to steal fries off Han’s plate. Changbin, unbothered, sliced himself a piece and slid it over to you. “Eat,” he said bluntly. “You’ll fall asleep if you don’t.”

It was subtle, but you noticed how each member did little things like that—making space for you, making sure you ate, including you in the conversation. Even I.N, the youngest, leaned across the table at one point to ask about your classes, genuinely listening as you explained.

Through it all, Chan sat beside you, occasionally reaching over to place food on your plate before worrying about his own. Every time he did, your heart fluttered, but you also noticed the fond, knowing looks the others exchanged.

After dinner, when you all sprawled in the living room watching a movie, Hyunjin stretched out dramatically on the floor, sighing. “This feels weirdly domestic.”

“Because it is,” Han said with a smirk. Then, turning to you, he added, “Better get used to it, Y/N. You’ve got seven big brothers now.”

“Seven?” you echoed.

“Yep,” Felix said brightly. “Seven of us to look out for you.”

Changbin’s grunt of agreement was small but genuine. “Don’t mess with her,” he said simply. “We’ll sort you out.”

The way he said it was light but firm, and you didn’t miss the meaning beneath it. They weren’t just teasing—they were serious. They’d all decided, in their own way, that you were part of them now.

And for the first time since you’d started dating Chan, you realized the age gap wasn’t something you carried alone. It was something the whole group helped balance, with their teasing, their protection, and their quiet acceptance.

When the movie ended and the others started drifting off, Chan leaned close, his voice low in your ear. “See what I mean? They’re all out to embarrass me.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I think they just love you.”

He squeezed back, his eyes soft in the glow of the TV. “Yeah. Maybe they do.”

It started small, the way most storms do.

At first, it was just whispers in the corners of social media. A blurry photo of you and Chan at a café, the caption vague but loaded: “Isn’t this Bang Chan? Who’s that with him?”

You told yourself it didn’t matter. The comments were just speculation, and nobody outside his circle knew your name. But then the photo spread, and with it came opinions—endless, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

“She looks way younger than him. That’s weird.” “Chan-oppa deserves someone mature, not a kid.” “Isn’t that kind of inappropriate?”

The words dug deep, even when you tried not to read them. You closed the app, shoved your phone aside, and told yourself you wouldn’t look again. But late at night, when Chan was still at the studio and you couldn’t sleep, your thumb betrayed you. One scroll turned into another, and each cruel sentence pressed heavier on your chest.

By the end of the week, the whispers had grown too loud to ignore. Even in the dorm, where the members tried to shield you from the noise, you felt it lingering in the background.

“Y/N?” Chan’s voice cut through your thoughts one evening as you sat at the dorm’s dining table, staring blankly at the untouched cup of tea in your hands. His brows furrowed the second he saw your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing. Just tired.”

But Chan didn’t buy it. He never did. Pulling out the chair beside you, he reached out to brush his fingers against your arm. “Talk to me.”

The gentle concern in his eyes made your throat tighten. You looked down, fighting the urge to break. “People are saying things online,” you finally whispered. “About us. About me.”

Chan’s jaw clenched, though his touch stayed soft. “What kind of things?”

“That I’m too young for you. That it’s wrong. That you should be with someone else.” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one tasting bitter. “And they’re right, aren’t they? You could have anyone, Chan. Someone older, someone—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm but quiet, enough to make you fall silent. He waited until you met his gaze again before continuing, his eyes dark and steady. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

Your lip trembled. “But—”

“There’s no ‘but,’ Y/N.” He reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. “I chose you. I don’t care what strangers behind a screen think. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Tears stung your eyes, though you blinked them back stubbornly. “It’s just… hard. Every time I see those comments, it makes me wonder if I’m holding you back. If the age gap makes people respect you less.”

Chan exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. His voice softened again. “You’re not holding me back. If anything, you keep me going. When the weight of everything else feels too heavy, you’re the reason I don’t collapse. That’s not a weakness, Y/N. That’s strength.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted from the hallway.

“Is someone making Y/N cry?”

You turned to see Seungmin standing there, his usual calm expression tinged with something sharper. Behind him, Han peeked around the corner, eyes widening as he noticed your damp lashes. Changbin followed shortly after, stride purposeful, obviously having been told — or alerted — to check.

“No one’s making Y/N cry,” Chan said quickly, though his tone was grim.

Han walked in, dropping onto the chair across from you. “It’s the internet, isn’t it? I told you not to read the comments.”

Your cheeks burned with shame. “I couldn’t help it.”

Han sighed, leaning forward, his playful demeanor set aside for once. “Y/N, listen. People online will always find something to hate. If it wasn't your age, it'd be your clothes, or your hair, or the way you breathe. That’s just how it is. But you’re with Chan-hyung, and we can all see how much he loves you. That’s what matters.”

Seungmin nodded in agreement, his voice steady. “And if anyone out there thinks they can hurt you because of that, they’ll have to go through us first.”

Changbin’s response was low and direct. “We don’t tolerate nonsense. If someone keeps talking like that, we’ll handle it. No drama, just consequences.” His bluntness came off as rough, but the promise in it was unmistakable.

The fierceness in his tone startled you. You weren’t used to Seungmin and Changbin both being so openly protective, but in that moment, it made your chest ache in a different way—one that felt warm, almost safe.

Just then, Felix popped his head into the room, his usual bright smile subdued. “Did I hear someone upset Y/N?”

Within minutes, all eight of them had gathered, as if summoned by invisible strings. Hyunjin sat cross-legged on the table, ignoring Chan’s half-hearted scolding, while I.N plopped down beside you with a frown. Even Minho, who usually kept his distance during heavy talks, leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

“We saw the posts too,” Hyunjin admitted, his voice more serious than usual. “It made us angry. But we figured you’d come to us when you were ready.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” you murmured.

“You’re not a bother,” Felix said firmly, sliding into the chair on your other side. “You’re family now. And family sticks together.”

Minho leaned forward, eyes locked on you. “You don’t have to pretend to be fine. You can be mad, sad, or whatever. We’ll fight the nonsense for you. Just let us.”

One by one, the boys spoke—some teasing to lighten the mood, some serious with their reassurances. Minho promised he’d report every nasty comment he came across. I.N declared that if anyone talked badly about you, he’d “accidentally” spoil unreleased tracks as revenge. Han cracked a joke about forming an anti-hate task force, earning a laugh from you despite yourself. Changbin promised to keep his eye on the worst offenders and “make them regret it,” which made everyone snicker nervously.

Through it all, Chan kept holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, grounding circles.

By the end of it, the ache in your chest had eased, replaced by something steadier. You weren’t alone in this—not with Chan, not with the rest of Stray Kids at your side.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to weather whatever storm came next.

The day had started out so well.

Chan had finally managed to carve out a rare free afternoon, and the two of you had decided to do something simple: grab coffee and wander through the park near the company building. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but you didn’t need it to be. Just walking side by side, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining fully, felt more precious than any grand date.

For a while, everything was perfect. The air was cool, the leaves overhead shifting in shades of green and gold, and Chan’s laughter at your silly commentary about squirrels echoed warmly in your ears.

But peace rarely lasted long outside.

It happened as you left the café, your drinks in hand. A small group of fans had been waiting across the street, and when they noticed Chan, the whispers began. At first, it was just murmurs, camera phones lifting discreetly. You were used to that much. But then one girl’s voice cut through the air.

“Is that her? The one from the photos?”

Your stomach dropped.

Another voice followed, sharper. “She looks like a kid next to him. This is so wrong.”

The comments spread like wildfire among the small crowd. Suddenly, it wasn’t just whispers. It was full sentences, each one loud enough for you to hear.

“Chan-oppa, you can do better!” “She’s way too young!” “What are you even thinking?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, your fingers tightening around your cup until the plastic crinkled. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the pavement, but Chan’s arm slipped firmly around your shoulders. His jaw was set, eyes dark as he tried to guide you forward.

“Don’t listen to them,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear.

But their voices followed, harsh and relentless.

“Break up with her!” “You deserve someone real, not a fangirl!”

It was the first time you truly froze in public, your steps faltering. You’d seen comments online, but hearing them shouted at you face-to-face was different. They felt heavier, sharper, like stones being hurled.

Before you could crumble, a familiar voice rang out.

“Back off.”

You turned, startled, to see Minho standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his tone like steel. The rest of Stray Kids trailed behind him, clearly having just arrived. You hadn’t even realized Chan had texted them.

Minho stepped closer, his presence commanding. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

The crowd faltered, murmurs rippling through.

Felix quickly moved to your side, slipping his arm through yours. His smile was gentle, but his eyes were firm as he said, “C’mon, let’s go. You don’t need to hear this.”

Hyunjin, meanwhile, positioned himself slightly in front of you, tall frame blocking some of the phones that had started recording. “Seriously? Shouting at someone like this in public? You should be embarrassed.” His tone was calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable.

Han, usually all jokes, surprised you most. He turned toward the crowd, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “If you really loved Chan, you’d want him to be happy. And he’s happiest with Y/N. So quit acting like you know better.”

Changbin didn’t say much at first—he simply stepped forward, eyes cold. When one particularly loud person made a mean comment, he leaned in until his voice was low and dangerous. “You want to keep talking?” he asked, clipped and quiet. “Say one more thing and we’ll have a real problem.” The person flinched and fell silent.

The words stunned the group into silence, if only briefly.

Chan kept you close, his arm protective and steady, but you could feel the tension radiating off him. His free hand was clenched at his side, and you knew it was taking everything in him not to lash out.

Seungmin noticed, stepping in smoothly to keep things from escalating. “We’re leaving,” he said firmly, his tone final. With practiced ease, he and I.N created space in the crowd, gently but firmly urging people to step back.

And just like that, the eight of them closed ranks around you, forming a barrier as they guided you down the street. Phones still flashed from a distance, but the voices had quieted, the force of their protection impossible to ignore.

By the time you reached the safety of the company van, your hands were trembling so badly you almost dropped your drink. Chan noticed instantly, taking it from you and setting it aside before pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” he whispered, holding you tight against his chest. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

You buried your face in his hoodie, the fabric dampening your shaky breaths. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

His grip only tightened. “Don’t you dare apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

The others climbed in after you, their usual chatter subdued. Felix rubbed your back soothingly before sliding into his seat. Hyunjin muttered something about “immature fans” under his breath. Changbin sat beside Chan, one arm around the both of you protectively, muttering under his breath about “not respecting people.” Even I.N, the youngest, looked furious in a way you’d never seen before.

As the van pulled away, the silence was heavy but protective, like a shield. Finally, Minho spoke from the front seat, his voice steady. “They won’t say that again. Not while we’re around.”

You looked up, eyes still damp, and saw each of them nodding in quiet agreement.

For the first time that day, the ache in your chest eased just a little. You weren’t just dating Chan. You weren’t facing this alone.

You had a whole family standing with you—loud, chaotic, endlessly protective. And in that moment, you realized nothing anyone shouted could break what you had.

The night after the incident, the dorm was unusually quiet.

Dinner had been a calm affair, with the members making small jokes here and there to lighten the mood, but you could feel the weight of what had happened still lingering in the air. Every now and then, someone would glance at you, checking in silently, as if afraid you’d shatter.

Chan hadn’t left your side since. He’d barely eaten, barely spoken, his hand glued to yours the whole time as though letting go would risk losing you.

Now, as the others busied themselves with chores or disappeared into their rooms, Chan tugged you gently toward his. The door clicked shut behind you, muting the faint noises of the dorm.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling you with him until you were tucked against his chest. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just listened to his heartbeat, steady against your ear, while his fingers threaded through your hair.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet, heavy with things he’d been holding back.

“I hate that you went through that today.”

You shifted, looking up at him. His eyes were shadowed, guilt etched into every line of his face.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered.

“Of course it is,” he said immediately, jaw tightening. “They were only there because of me. They said those things because of me. And I just… stood there. I should’ve done more.”

“You did,” you insisted softly. “You stayed with me. You protected me. And the others… they protected me too. That was enough.”

Chan exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m selfish. Keeping you close, even though it means you’ll get hurt like this. Even though people will keep judging us because of the age gap.”

Your chest ached at the way his voice cracked on the words. Reaching up, you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Chan,” you said firmly, “you are not selfish for loving me. And I’m not fragile. Yeah, today was hard. Hearing those things… it hurt. But being with you? That’s worth it. Every single time.”

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch. “You’re so much stronger than me sometimes.”

You smiled faintly. “I learned from the best.”

For the first time all evening, a small laugh escaped him. It wasn’t much, but it loosened the heaviness in the room. He tilted his forehead against yours, murmuring, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” you whispered back. “And I deserve you too. Age gap or not, this is real. We’re real.”

Before either of you could say more, a knock sounded at the door.

“Hyung?” It was Felix’s voice, soft and hesitant. “Can we come in?”

Chan hesitated, glancing at you. When you nodded, he called out, “Yeah.”

The door creaked open, and soon the room was filled with the rest of Stray Kids. They shuffled in awkwardly at first, as though afraid of intruding, but it didn’t take long before Han plopped himself on the beanbag chair and Hyunjin stretched out dramatically on the floor.

Minho leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Seungmin and I.N sat near the foot of the bed. Felix, as usual, perched closest, his eyes full of quiet worry. Changbin stood near the doorway, arms folded, but the corner of his mouth was softened into a rare, genuine smile.

There was a beat of silence before Han cleared his throat. “So, uh… we wanted to say something. Together.”

You blinked, surprised, as Seungmin continued in his steady tone. “What happened today… it wasn’t okay. And it’s not the last time something like that will happen. But we want you to know you don’t have to face it alone.”

I.N nodded quickly. “Yeah. You’re part of us now. Which means anyone who messes with you? They mess with all of us.”

Hyunjin smirked faintly, though his eyes were serious. “And trust me, no one wants eight angry guys chasing after them.”

That earned a laugh around the room, the tension easing slightly.

Felix reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “We tease a lot, but… we really are happy you’re here, Y/N. You make Chan-hyung happy. And when he’s happy, we’re happy too.”

Changbin’s voice, when he spoke, was more measured than usual. “You do well by Chan. We can tell. He’s calmer. He’s better when you’re around. That’s enough reason for us.” He gave Chan a pointed look. “Take care of each other. And if anyone ever crosses the line, you know we won’t hesitate.”

Minho’s voice followed, firm but quiet. “Exactly. Don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself. You’re good for him. That’s all that matters.”

Your throat tightened as emotion swelled inside you. You glanced at Chan, who looked just as overwhelmed, his eyes shining as he gazed at his members.

“Guys…” he started, but Han cut him off.

“Don’t get all mushy, hyung. We’re just saying we approve. Officially.”

“Very officially,” Hyunjin added with a grin.

The room filled with laughter, warm and genuine, and for the first time in days, the heavy knot in your chest finally unraveled.

Later, after the others had filtered back out, Changbin lingered for a second at the door. He ruffled your hair in a rare affectionate motion and muttered, “Don’t do anything stupid that makes us worry.”

You laughed softly. “I won’t. Promise.”

As you and Chan settled back on the bed, his arms around you, you felt the quiet solidity of it all: the boys’ support, the laughter and teasing that made their protectiveness feel like family. The world outside might judge; the age gap might always be something people commented on, but inside these walls, you had a home.

“You hear that?” Chan murmured, voice full of quiet pride. “My kids gave us their blessing.”

“You’re dramatic,” you said, smiling.

“Maybe,” he said, pulling you closer. “But I’m grateful.”

Pairing: Bang Chan x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff, Romance, Family, Word Count: 4,500 Summary: The studio fills with music, the boys, and giggles—Hana’s first dance lesson is a memory no one will forget.

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The studio always smelled faintly of wood and coffee, a mix of sweat from rehearsals and the comforting hum of familiarity. You’d been here more times than you could count—late-night producing sessions with Chan, evenings when the boys practiced until the mirrors fogged, afternoons when you brought him dinner just so he wouldn’t forget to eat. But this time, the atmosphere was different.

Because this time, you had Hana.

Your three-month-old daughter rested in your lap, her little hands opening and closing as she stared at the bright lights above the practice room mirror. She was warm, soft, and smelled faintly of baby lotion. She cooed every now and then, the sound so small against the thumping bass that shook the floor.

On the other side of the room, Chan and the rest of Stray Kids were working through the choreography for Chk Chk Boom. The sharp beats matched their movements—Felix’s power, Hyunjin’s flow, Changbin’s energy, Han’s quick footwork, Seungmin’s precision, I.N’s earnest concentration, and Lee Know’s fluidity. And of course, Chan’s leadership, guiding them all while never fully taking his eyes off you and the baby.

“From the top!” Chan called, breathless but smiling.

The music started again, and you bounced Hana gently on your lap. “You hear that, flower?” you whispered against her soft hair. “That’s Appa’s song.”

Hana blinked, then let out a tiny squeal, as if in response. You laughed quietly, brushing her chubby cheek with your finger.

The boys were too focused on their dance to notice you at first. The pounding rhythm filled the room, and you found yourself swaying in place, letting the beat guide you. Almost without thinking, you lifted Hana’s tiny arms, moving them up and down in time with the chorus.

“Chk chk boom,” you said softly, exaggerating the words so she’d see your lips. “Like this.” You wiggled her hands side to side. “Boom!”

Hana gurgled, a wide gummy smile spreading across her face. She kicked her legs in excitement, squealing again, and this time it was loud enough to catch someone’s attention.

Hyunjin turned mid-spin, eyes widening as he caught sight of you dancing with Hana on your lap. His mouth fell open in exaggerated awe. “Oh my gosh, look at her!” he said, breaking formation.

The music screeched to a halt as everyone turned to look.

Chan spun around, ready to scold Hyunjin for interrupting—until he saw what had stolen his attention. You, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Hana bouncing happily on your lap, both of you doing a simplified baby-version of their choreography.

For a second, the whole group just melted.

“No way,” Han said, rushing over and crouching down. “She’s already learning the dance? At three months old?”

“She’s a prodigy,” Changbin declared dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “The youngest member of Stray Kids!”

Lee Know, who had been casually leaning against the wall, smirked and joined in. “Well, of course. She’s got great rhythm. No doubt about it.”

Everyone burst into laughter, and Hana squealed louder as if she knew she was the center of attention. You grinned and kissed the top of her head.

Chan wiped his face with the hem of his shirt, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His expression softened in that way you knew so well—the one reserved only for you and Hana. He crossed the room, kneeling beside you.

“You teaching her our choreo already?” he asked, voice warm with amusement.

“Of course,” you said, rocking Hana gently. “Someone has to keep up with her dad.”

Chan chuckled, leaning down to kiss Hana’s forehead before pressing a quick peck to your lips. The boys behind him erupted into teasing noises—“Oooh!” “Get a room!”—but Chan only smirked, unbothered.

“Alright, Hana,” he said, lifting her carefully from your lap. She squealed again, gripping his shirt with tiny fists. “Watch Appa, okay? This part goes—chk chk boom.” He moved her little arms in rhythm.

The sight was enough to make your heart ache. Chan, sweaty from practice but still gentle, holding your daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world—because she was.

The rest of practice turned into less of a rehearsal and more of a family event. The boys danced through the song again, but this time, they exaggerated their movements just to make Hana laugh.

Felix crouched low and gave her a wink mid-dance, his deep voice booming, “Boom!” and Hana erupted in a high-pitched giggle.

Seungmin made silly faces whenever he caught her eye in the mirror, only to break into a grin himself when she cooed back.

Even I.N, usually focused and a little shy with the baby, tried waving at her mid-step. He stumbled slightly, earning a round of laughter, but Hana flailed her arms in excitement like she was cheering him on.

Lee Know, always cool and collected, had a rare playful glint in his eyes. When he spun across the floor, he made sure to flash Hana a quick, exaggerated bow, which sent her into another round of delighted squeals.

You sat on the floor, watching it all with your hands folded over your chest. There was a warmth in the room that went beyond the physical heat of dancing. It was love, unspoken but undeniable.

After an hour, the boys collapsed into a heap against the mirrors, panting and laughing. Hana, however, was still full of energy, babbling nonsense sounds and kicking her legs.

“She has more stamina than us,” Han groaned dramatically, lying flat on his back.

“That’s because she doesn’t do the choreo,” Changbin muttered, throwing a towel at him.

You chuckled and shifted Hana so she was propped against your chest. “Maybe if you practiced as much as she naps, you’d have the same energy.”

That earned another round of laughter, even from Chan, who sank down beside you, arm wrapping naturally around your shoulders. He pressed his forehead to Hana’s, whispering something only she could hear. She responded with a delighted squeak, smacking his cheek with her tiny hand.

“She’s already taking after her mom,” Chan said, looking at you with tired but adoring eyes.

You tilted your head. “Oh? And how’s that?”

“Stealing my heart over and over.”

The boys groaned loudly at his cheesiness, but you couldn’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks. Chan only grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself.

Later, while the boys practiced individual parts of the dance, you sat Hana on the floor in front of you, supporting her carefully as she balanced. You clapped your hands slowly in rhythm with the music, guiding her arms to mimic the motion.

“Chk chk,” you said, moving her tiny hands. “Boom!” You gently tapped her tummy, and she let out a squeal of laughter.

Behind you, a voice said, “She’s really trying.”

You glanced back to see Felix watching with the softest expression, towel draped around his shoulders.

“She loves the music,” you said.

“She’s Bang Chan’s daughter. Of course she does.”

The way he said it was so certain, so full of quiet admiration, that it made your chest tighten. You looked back at Hana, who was now staring at Felix with wide eyes, fascinated by his deep voice when he hummed along to the track.

“She’s going to grow up around all this,” you murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Hana’s forehead. “Around music. Around you guys.”

Felix crouched down, lowering his face to Hana’s level. “And she’ll always have eight uncles looking out for her.”

Hana reached for him, fist clenching around his finger, and Felix’s smile widened.

Lee Know, who had been quietly observing, winked. “We’ll make sure she gets real good at dancing, too. Can’t have her slacking, right?”

You laughed softly, your heart full at the thought of Hana growing up surrounded by all this love, laughter, and music.

The practice wound down eventually, the energy shifting into something calmer. The boys sprawled around the room, scrolling through phones, chatting, or lying on the floor. Chan sat with you, Hana tucked into his arms now, finally dozing off after all the excitement.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, watching her tiny chest rise and fall. “She’s knocked out,” you whispered.

“Figures. She was the star of the show.” Chan’s voice was quiet, reverent. He pressed a kiss to Hana’s head. “She always is.”

Your heart swelled at the sight of him like this—idol, producer, leader, but right now, just a father. Just your partner.

“You know,” you said softly, “I think she really did learn part of the dance today.”

Chan chuckled. “Of course she did. She’s a genius. My daughter, after all.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Your ego’s showing, Christopher.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and leaned his head against yours. “You love it.”

And you did.

The boys eventually gathered their things, the room filled with casual chatter. Hana stirred once, then settled again in Chan’s arms, her tiny hand gripping his shirt.

As you walked out together, Chan glanced at you with that same soft smile he always wore when it was just the three of you.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mm?”

“Thanks for bringing her today. I know practice can be tiring for you too, but…” He trailed off, looking down at Hana, then back at you. “Seeing her here—it makes everything feel lighter. Makes me remember why I do all this.”

You reached over, lacing your fingers with his. “We’ll always be here to remind you.”

He squeezed your hand gently, eyes shining with unshed emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” you whispered back. “Both of us.”

And as you stepped out of the studio into the cool evening air, baby Hana safe in Chan’s arms, you knew this was the kind of memory that would stay forever—the day your daughter danced with Stray Kids for the very first time.

A moment of laughter, of music, of love.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Wife!Reader Word Count: ~6,200 words Genre: Wholesome, Romantic, Family, Fluffy Summary: Reader is nine months pregnant and staying with Bang Chan’s family in Australia. Chan decides to surprise his members by bringing them to meet his family—completely unaware he has a wife. Chaos, laughter, and heartwarming moments ensue as the boys discover the pregnancy, feel the baby kicking, and bond with their soon-to-be newest member. Full of romance, family warmth, and adorable baby kicks, this story is a love-filled slice-of-life you won’t forget.

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The house smelled faintly of eucalyptus and fresh bread, a comforting blend that always made you feel at home. Chan’s mother bustled in the kitchen, humming softly as she checked the oven. His father sat at the dining table, reading the paper, occasionally glancing up to ask how you were feeling.

“I’m fine,” you assured for the fifth time that morning, one hand resting on your swollen belly. The baby gave a gentle nudge as if to contradict you, and you laughed softly. “Well… mostly fine.”

Chan’s mum appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Nine months is no joke, sweetheart. Sit as much as you need. Don’t go straining yourself.”

You smiled, touched by her fussing. From the moment you and Chan had married, his parents had welcomed you as if you’d always been part of the family. And now, with their first grandchild almost here, they treated you like something precious.

“I can’t wait for him to walk through that door,” his mum said with a wistful sigh. “My boy, home again. And with his group too, you said?”

You nodded, rubbing your stomach. “Yes. He wanted them to see where he grew up. To meet all of you.”

Her eyes twinkled knowingly. “And to meet you properly, I imagine.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Though the marriage had been private, his family had been there from the start. They knew how much you loved each other, how Chan’s devotion was unshakable. But his members? They had no idea.

Chan’s dad folded his paper, his smile warm. “He’s been carrying this secret for a while. They’ll be shocked, but I know they’ll be happy for him. For both of you.”

You exhaled slowly, nerves fluttering in your chest. You trusted the boys—Chan spoke of them like brothers—but the thought of their surprise still made your heart race.

The baby shifted again, and you winced, pressing a hand against your side.

“There, there,” his mum murmured, hurrying over. “Let me get you some tea. Chamomile. It’ll help.”

You sank back into the couch cushions, grateful. The truth was, you were exhausted. Nine months of carrying, waiting, dreaming—it was beautiful, yes, but heavy too. Chan had called last night, promising he’d be home soon, that he couldn’t wait another second to see you.

You clung to those words now, heart aching with love.

Hurry, Christopher, you thought, resting your head against the cushion. We’re waiting for you.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles above the Pacific, Chan couldn’t stop checking his phone.

The flight to Sydney was long, but the boys were too excited to complain. Felix had been bouncing in his seat since takeoff, and even I.N—normally the one to nap through anything—kept glancing out the window, waiting for the moment the plane dipped low enough to see home.

Chan watched them with a small smile, headphones tugged around his neck. He should have felt exhausted. Their last schedule had been brutal, their performances draining. But here, with the cabin buzzing with his members’ energy and the thought of what awaited them once they landed, his heart felt too full to be tired.

They thought this trip was just about family. Meeting his parents, catching up with relatives, letting Chan show them a little of where he grew up. And that was true, mostly. But tucked carefully away in his chest was the bigger surprise—the one he had guarded for months.

He had a wife. He had you. And in just a few weeks—if not sooner—he’d be a father.

He pressed his thumb against his phone, looking at the message you’d sent before he boarded:

“Baby’s been restless today. I think they know you’re coming. I can’t wait to see you.”

His chest tightened in that familiar, warm way. Even after all this time, the thought of you—your voice, your laugh, the way your hand instinctively sought his in sleep—could undo him.

“Hyung,” Seungmin’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re smiling at your phone again. Girlfriend?”

Eight pairs of curious eyes turned toward him.

Chan cleared his throat and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Just… family stuff.”

“Family stuff,” Han repeated, suspicious. “That grin was not ‘family stuff,’ hyung.”

Changbin leaned over the aisle with a smirk. “Yeah, spill it. What’s got you grinning like a teenager?”

Chan shook his head, amused. They weren’t wrong, but he wasn’t ready to spill—not yet. “You’ll see soon.”

By the time they landed, the sun was high, the air warmer than Seoul had been. Felix’s eyes lit up as he breathed in deeply, as if every molecule of Australian air belonged to him. “Home,” he whispered, and Chan’s heart swelled.

The boys piled into a van, luggage rattling in the trunk. Felix was in the front, pointing out landmarks with excitement, while Hyunjin and Han fought for window space. It was noisy, chaotic, and so achingly familiar. Chan sat back, phone in hand, and sent you a quick text:

“On our way. Don’t overdo it, yeah? I’ll be there soon.”

Your reply came quickly:

“I’m not moving from the couch. Baby won’t let me. Hurry.”

He chuckled softly, which only made I.N raise an eyebrow at him.

The house was just as he remembered it—white walls, a porch swing, a garden his mom still tended carefully. His parents were waiting outside, smiling wide as the boys spilled out of the van and bowed politely, all warmth and eagerness.

“Welcome, welcome!” his mother said, gathering Felix into a hug first, then Hyunjin, then the others. His dad clapped shoulders, laughed, and ushered them in like they’d been here a thousand times.

The members looked around with wide eyes, charmed by the cozy house, the framed family photos, the faint smell of something baking in the kitchen.

And then, as shoes came off and bags were stacked by the door, a soft sound carried from the living room.

“Chan?”

Your voice.

He froze for just a heartbeat, then turned, heart pounding. And there you were—hair pulled into a loose bun, one of Chan’s oversized shirts stretched gently over your rounded belly, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the day.

The boys went silent.

“Who…” Jisung started, blinking between you and Chan.

You smiled, tired but glowing, one hand resting instinctively on your belly. “Hi,” you said, voice soft. “You must be the boys.”

Seungmin’s mouth dropped open. “Hyung—”

Chan’s ears turned red, but his grin spread helplessly as he crossed the room and leaned down to kiss your forehead. His hand slid protectively to your side, fingers brushing over where your shirt pulled tight over your bump. “Everyone,” he said, pride threading every word, “this is my wife.”

Dead silence. Then—

“WHAT?!”

The room exploded. Han nearly dropped his backpack, Felix let out a noise that was half gasp, half squeal, Minho blinked like he’d misheard, and Changbin’s jaw practically hit the floor.

“You’re married?!” Hyunjin demanded, dramatic as ever.

“And—hyung, she’s—” Seungmin gestured wildly at your belly. “You’re having a baby?!”

“Hold on, hold on—” Changbin stepped forward, pointing at Chan like he was accusing him of a crime. “You kept this from us?! For how long?”

Your laugh bubbled out before you could stop it. Their shock was so genuine, so endearing. You reached out a hand and wiggled your fingers. “Yes. I’m due any day now.”

The members gaped.

Chan slipped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. “I wanted to tell you guys sooner,” he admitted, “but… I wanted it to be special. So—surprise.”

Felix was the first to recover. With a squeal, he bounded forward, crouching slightly as if afraid to startle you. “Oh my God. You’re—hyung, you’re gonna be a dad.” His eyes were already misty. “Can I—?”

You nodded, amused, and guided his hand gently to your belly. The moment he touched you, the baby kicked.

Felix gasped so loudly that everyone else rushed forward, desperate not to miss out.

And just like that, the room turned into a flurry of laughter, awe, and hesitant touches. One by one, they felt the soft thump of the baby’s tiny foot or hand. Han yelped dramatically when he felt a strong kick, while I.N’s face softened into something almost reverent.

“Hyung,” Seungmin said quietly, eyes wide, “this is… wow.”

Changbin hesitated longer than the rest, arms crossed, brows furrowed. But when you smiled and held your hand out to him, he sighed, muttering, “Fine, but if they kick too hard, I’m suing.”

The baby nudged under his palm, firm but gentle. Changbin froze. His tough expression cracked, and he let out a low laugh, almost disbelieving. “Wow… that’s… that’s really something.” His voice softened without him meaning it to.

Chan looked around at his boys—their amazement, their joy—and then down at you, your hand resting over Felix’s, the baby moving beneath. His throat tightened. This was everything he’d dreamed of: family colliding, worlds blending, love expanding beyond what he thought was possible.

You leaned into him, whispering so only he could hear, “Told you they’d take it well.”

Chan pressed a kiss to your temple, his chest full to bursting. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Better than I ever hoped.”

The living room was buzzing with energy, voices overlapping as the boys settled into the surprise that had landed on them like a thunderclap.

“You’re married.” Hyunjin was still staring at you as though repeating it would somehow make it sink in faster. “Hyung, you’re married. And you’re having a baby. That’s—this is—” He pressed both hands to his face and let out a dramatic groan. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Because he likes to keep secrets,” Han accused, though his grin was betraying his tone. “Hyung, this is next level.”

Chan just laughed, sheepish but glowing. His arm stayed wrapped around your waist as though afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “I wanted you guys to focus on the group. I didn’t want my personal life to distract from our work. But… I also didn’t want to hide forever.” He looked down at you, his voice softening. “And she’s… everything. You both are.”

Your cheeks warmed. Even after years together, his sincerity could unravel you in seconds.

Felix, meanwhile, was still kneeling in front of you like you were royalty. His hand hovered just above your bump as though he couldn’t believe what he’d felt. “The baby actually kicked,” he whispered, awe heavy in his voice. “That’s my little niece or nephew in there.”

“Not your baby, Lixie,” Minho deadpanned, though his eyes softened when you chuckled. He lingered back, watching with a quiet sort of fondness that made your heart ache. You’d always known how much these boys loved each other, but seeing them here, standing in your living room, meeting the piece of Chan’s life they hadn’t known about—it was overwhelming in the best way.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” I.N asked shyly, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.

You shook your head, smiling. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”

Han gasped, clutching Hyunjin’s arm. “Plot twist! What if the baby looks exactly like me?”

The entire room erupted in laughter, even Chan. He pulled you closer, his cheek brushing your hair. “Not happening,” he teased. “But thanks for volunteering, Ji.”

Later, after the chaos had settled into a softer hum, you found yourself curled on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs. The boys had scattered—some helping your mother-in-law in the kitchen, some exploring the backyard, some simply scrolling through their phones and recovering from jet lag.

Chan sat beside you, his arm stretched across the back of the couch, thumb idly brushing your shoulder. His eyes were soft, studying you like you were the only person in the room.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, tilting his head toward you.

You nodded, though your hand pressed absently against your belly. “Baby’s a bit restless. I think all the excitement is contagious.”

Chan’s gaze softened further, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your bump. “Hey, little one,” he whispered, voice low and soothing. “Calm down for Mum, yeah? We’re all here now.”

The baby kicked as if in response, and Chan laughed against your stomach, the sound rumbling into you. The intimacy of it—his breath, his warmth, his words—sent a shiver down your spine.

“Chan,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his curls. “You’ve been hiding this side of yourself for too long. They should’ve known earlier.”

He lifted his head, eyes shining. “I know. But… I liked that this part of me was just ours for a while. Our little secret world. Now they’re part of it too. And honestly?” He glanced around the room, watching Han and Felix argue over who would be the ‘best uncle.’ His smile softened. “It feels right.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, heart warm.

Dinner that night was noisy in the best way. His mom had cooked enough to feed an army, insisting that growing boys and a pregnant woman both needed “real food.” The table was crowded with dishes—roast chicken, vegetables, warm bread, and even pavlova for dessert.

The members sat around the table, wide-eyed, clearly enchanted by the homeliness of it all.

“This is so different from dorm life,” Hyunjin said, spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed. “Food that didn’t come from delivery apps? Feels illegal.”

You laughed, and Chan squeezed your knee under the table, a small grin curving his lips.

Throughout the meal, the boys kept sneaking glances at you. Not out of rudeness, but wonder. Every time you shifted, every time your hand smoothed over your stomach, someone’s eyes followed with quiet awe.

Felix was glued to your side, fussing whenever you shifted in your seat. Han kept firing off questions—“When did you two even get married? How did no one notice? Does the baby have a name yet?”—while Hyunjin leaned dramatically over the table, demanding to know if he was destined to be the “favorite uncle.”

You laughed until your cheeks hurt, answering what you could, letting Chan field the rest.

Changbin, was quieter than usual. He ate heartily, sure, but his eyes kept flicking between you, Chan, and your belly. Finally, halfway through the meal, he set down his chopsticks and crossed his arms.

“Hyung,” he said seriously, “you realize this means you’re officially old now, right?”

The table erupted in laughter.

Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Thanks, Bin. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

But Changbin’s smirk softened after a moment. “Seriously though… congrats. Both of you. It’s… big.” His ears went pink, and he quickly shoved another bite of food into his mouth before anyone could tease him.

It wasn’t until dessert that the baby made its presence truly known.

You had just lifted a forkful of pavlova when the baby delivered a particularly strong kick, so sudden that you gasped and pressed a hand to your side.

Instantly, every conversation at the table stopped.

“Are you okay?” Chan’s hand was at your back in a second, eyes wide with concern.

You nodded quickly, laughing breathlessly. “Yes, yes, just—baby’s saying hi.”

Han dropped his fork and scrambled up. “Again?! Where? Can I—”

“Me first!” Felix nearly shoved him aside.

It turned into a ridiculous queue, each boy waiting his turn to press a tentative hand to your stomach, eyes lighting up whenever the baby moved beneath their palm. Even Minho, who had been the most reserved, eventually gave in, his expression softening when he felt the flutter of a kick.

“Strong one,” he murmured, glancing at Chan with a half-smile. “Takes after you.”

Chan’s throat tightened. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him, and pressed a kiss into your hair.

In that moment—surrounded by laughter, family, and the quiet rhythm of new life—he thought his heart might burst.

Later that night, when the house had gone quiet and the boys were sprawled in guest rooms, Chan guided you into the bedroom you shared at his parents’ place. He helped you ease onto the bed, fussing with pillows until you were comfortable.

“Chan,” you said, amused. “I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”

He gave you a mock glare. “You’re carrying my whole world inside you. I’m allowed to be careful.”

Your chest warmed. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “You were amazing today. Seeing you with them, with your family… it felt so right.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his other hand smoothing over your bump. His thumb brushed gentle circles against the fabric of your shirt. “I was terrified,” he admitted quietly. “That they’d be upset I didn’t tell them sooner. That they’d feel like I kept them out.”

“They adore you,” you whispered. “They adore this baby already. You saw their faces.”

He nodded, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “Yeah. I did. And I’ve never been more grateful in my life.”

You kissed him softly, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that spoke of years of love and the promise of more to come.

When he pulled back, his eyes shone with emotion. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of,” he whispered. “You and this baby—you’re my home.”

You pressed a hand to his cheek, heart aching with love. “And you’re mine.”

Outside, the night hummed with cicadas. Inside, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you felt safe, cherished, whole.

Morning light spilled through the curtains, painting the living room gold. You padded in slowly, one hand braced on your lower back, the other cradling your belly. At nine months, every step felt deliberate, your center of gravity shifted by the tiny person inside you.

The boys were already awake—or at least, some of them. Felix was sprawled on the rug with I.N, teaching him a card game. Seungmin and Minho were in the kitchen, bickering about toast. Han lay draped over the couch like a starfish, half-asleep, while Hyunjin sat cross-legged on the floor sketching something in a notebook.

The moment they noticed you, every head turned.

“Good morning!” Felix chirped, springing to his feet. “Do you need anything? Water? Breakfast? A chair?”

You laughed softly, amused by his enthusiasm. “I’m okay, thank you. Just… taking it slow.”

Hyunjin dropped his pencil, already moving to help you toward the couch. “Careful, no rushing,” he fussed. “Chan hyung would kill us if we let you trip.”

Minho snorted from the kitchen. “He’d kill you specifically.”

You sank onto the couch with relief, smiling at their protectiveness. It was endearing—these boys who spent their lives on stage, suddenly transformed into anxious uncles-in-training.

“Where’s Chan?” you asked, glancing around.

“Went for a run,” Seungmin answered. “Said he needed to clear his head.”

Of course he had. Running was his way of centering himself. You rested a hand on your bump, picturing him jogging through familiar streets, music blasting in his ears, thinking of you and the baby with every stride.

Not ten minutes later, the baby gave a strong kick—so sudden you gasped.

“Are you okay?!” Felix yelped, cards scattering everywhere.

You exhaled, rubbing your side. “Yes, yes. Just… baby gymnastics.”

“Baby gymnastics?!” Han bolted upright, eyes wide. “That’s not normal, right? Babies don’t do gymnastics in there!”

I.N shook his head. “They move a lot at the end, hyung.”

Han looked unconvinced. “But what if—”

Before he could finish, the baby rolled again, harder this time. You winced, leaning back into the cushions.

Changbin, however, took the crown for drama. He sprang up, eyes wide. “This is it! The baby’s coming! Somebody boil water or—or get towels or—”

“Bin,” Minho deadpanned, “we’re not in a drama. Sit down.”

But he didn’t. He paced instead, muttering to himself. “Why do I feel nervous? I’m not the one having a baby. Oh my god, what if something goes wrong—”

“Changbin,” you interrupted, squeezing Minho’s hand as the cramp passed. You offered him a tired smile. “Breathe. I’m fine. It’s just a false alarm.”

He stopped in his tracks, blinking at you. Then, awkwardly, he cleared his throat and sat back down, though his knee bounced relentlessly. “False alarm or not, I’m not sleeping tonight,” he muttered.

Hyunjin hovered nervously. “Should we—uh—call Chan?”

“No,” you assured, though your voice was breathless. “It’s fine. Really. They’re just… active today.”

But that didn’t stop the boys from crowding closer, eyes wide, waiting for another movement.

And when it came—a flutter that rippled beneath your skin—Felix’s jaw dropped. “That’s insane,” he whispered. “It’s like they’re saying hi.”

“Or plotting their grand escape,” Han muttered, though he leaned in eagerly, his palm pressed against your belly.

You chuckled, despite the discomfort. “Would you like to feel?” you offered, looking around the room.

It was as if Christmas had come early. One by one, they took turns, hands tentative and reverent. Seungmin’s lips parted when he felt the kick. I.N’s eyes went soft, wonder written across his face. Even Minho, trying to mask his emotions, lingered longer than the others, his thumb brushing absent patterns against your shirt.

By the time Chan returned, jogging shoes still tied, the living room looked like a scene from a sitcom—seven boys huddled around you, hands pressed against your stomach, expressions ranging from awe to panic, while Changbin still sat a little stiffly, muttering about towels and water just in case.

He stopped in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “Uh… what’s going on here?”

“Your child is trying to break free,” Han declared.

“They’re just moving a lot,” you corrected quickly, shooting Chan a reassuring smile.

But he was already crossing the room, protective instincts kicking in. He crouched in front of you, brushing your hair back gently. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, touched by the worry in his eyes.

The baby kicked again, and his palm instinctively pressed against your side. His face softened immediately. “Hey, little one,” he murmured, voice warm. “Take it easy on Mum, yeah?”

The boys watched in silence, something tender passing between them and their leader. For all their teasing, they knew how much you meant to him, how much this child would change his world.

The rest of the day was lighter. With the initial shock fading, the members seemed to slip comfortably into their new roles as honorary uncles.

In the backyard, Felix insisted on teaching you “gentle” stretches, though it mostly turned into him fluttering around like an anxious butterfly. “Don’t bend that way, no, sit like this—it’s better for your back.”

Hyunjin offered foot massages, claiming he’d watched enough YouTube tutorials to qualify as an expert. You laughed so hard you nearly cried when he got halfway through before realizing he was tickling you instead.

Han attempted to serenade your belly with improvised lullabies, complete with dramatic high notes. The baby responded with a kick so strong that everyone burst out laughing.

“See?” Han puffed out his chest. “They like me best already.”

“Or they want you to shut up,” Minho retorted.

Even Seungmin, normally the voice of reason, ended up crouched on the floor, reading a children’s book in an unusually soft tone. I.N leaned over his shoulder, wide-eyed, whispering, “That was really good, hyung. You’ll be a natural uncle.”

You watched it all from your seat, heart swelling. These boys—these young men who had grown alongside Chan—were embracing not just him, but you, and the little life you carried.

That evening, though, things took a turn.

You were in the kitchen with Chan, watching him chop vegetables while you leaned against the counter. The baby had been restless all day, and your body was sore.

Then a sharp cramp rippled through you.

You froze, hand gripping the counter.

Chan noticed instantly, knife clattering onto the board. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Just… a cramp,” you breathed, though your voice wavered.

The sound must have carried, because within seconds the rest of the boys appeared, faces pale.

“Is it time?!” Hyunjin squeaked.

“Do we call an ambulance?!” Han yelped.

Felix looked like he might faint. “Oh my God, oh my God, the baby’s coming—”

“It’s not—” You exhaled sharply, waiting for the pain to pass. “It’s not time yet. False alarm.”

Chan’s hand pressed firmly to your back, steadying you. His other hand found yours, gripping tight. “Breathe with me,” he murmured, his calm voice cutting through the panic around you. “In, out. You’ve got this.”

The cramp eased, leaving only a dull ache. You sagged against him, letting his strength hold you up.

The boys hovered, uncertain, their earlier excitement replaced by genuine fear.

You straightened slowly, forcing a smile. “See? I’m okay. Not the real thing yet.”

“Not funny,” Minho muttered, though relief softened his words.

Chan kissed your temple, his own heartbeat still racing. “Let’s get you lying down.”

As he guided you back to the couch, the boys followed like nervous ducklings, each one offering something—water, a blanket, a pillow, their own panicked reassurances.

You sank into the cushions, surrounded by their anxious care, and couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re all going to be such good uncles,” you whispered.

Han blinked rapidly, looking suspiciously close to tears. Felix sniffled. Even Seungmin’s lips twitched into a faint smile.

Chan sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders, his eyes never leaving your face. His thumb brushed your skin, steady and soothing. “We’ll get through this together,” he murmured. “Always.”

And with all of them gathered close, the fear ebbed into something else—something warm, safe, and unshakably whole.

The night was heavy with quiet. Most of the boys had finally drifted off, their exhaustion catching up after days of travel and excitement. The house was still, save for the hum of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

You lay in bed, propped up by pillows, one hand resting on your stomach. The baby had been restless again, but now their movements had softened into gentle rolls. Chan sat beside you, laptop closed, giving you his full attention the way he always did when he sensed you needed it most.

“You should sleep,” you whispered.

He shook his head, brushing a curl off his forehead. “Not a chance. What if you need me?”

Your heart swelled. Even now, after years of being loved by him, his devotion could still undo you. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “I love you, Christopher.”

His gaze softened instantly at the sound of his full name, used only in rare, tender moments. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too. More than anything.”

The moment was sweet, grounding. But then a sudden, sharp wave of pain rippled through you, stealing your breath.

You gasped, clutching his hand. “Chan—”

His eyes widened. “Is it—?”

Another contraction tore through you, stronger this time. Your body knew. This wasn’t a false alarm.

“It’s time,” you whispered, voice tight.

The next hour blurred into chaos.

Chan was everywhere at once—grabbing the hospital bag, calling his parents, trying to keep the members from completely spiraling.

“Breathe, hyung, breathe!” Han shouted, pacing the hallway.

“I think that’s what she needs to do, not him,” Seungmin corrected, though his own hands shook.

Felix looked pale but determined, clutching the car keys like his life depended on it. “I’ll drive!”

“No way,” Minho cut in. “You’d crash before we left the driveway.”

Changbin barked, “Everyone, move! Out of the way! Pregnant lady first!”

Amid the whirlwind, Chan stayed anchored to you, crouched at your side, his hand steady in yours. “I’ve got you, baby. We’re going to the hospital now. Just hold on a little longer.”

You nodded, breath shallow, tears pricking your eyes—not from fear, but from the overwhelming rush of everything. The baby was coming. Your life was about to change forever.

The hospital was bright, sterile, buzzing with hurried footsteps and quiet voices. Nurses guided you into a room, hooked up monitors, spoke in soothing tones that barely pierced through the haze of contractions.

Through it all, Chan never let go of you.

He held your hand, whispered encouragements, brushed damp hair from your forehead. His voice was low and steady, an anchor in the storm.

“You’re so strong,” he murmured. “I’m right here. Just focus on me.”

Hours passed, contractions building, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. The boys were kept in the waiting room, pacing, whispering, occasionally peeking in through the door until a nurse shooed them back.

At one point, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate. Panic flickered in Chan’s eyes, but he didn’t waver. He pressed your hand to his lips, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I know it hurts. But you’re amazing. You’re everything. And when this is over, we’ll be holding our baby. Just a little longer.”

His words carried you through.

And then—after what felt like forever—the room filled with the sharp, beautiful cry of new life.

Your baby’s cry.

You collapsed against the pillows, sobbing with relief as the nurse placed a tiny, wriggling bundle on your chest. Your child. Warm, fragile, perfect.

Chan’s breath hitched audibly. He hovered for only a second before leaning close, his hand trembling as he stroked the baby’s cheek.

“They’re so… beautiful,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at him. “We did it, Chan.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips salty with his own tears. “No, you did it. You’re incredible.”

The baby squirmed, letting out another cry, and Chan laughed through his tears, pressing his forehead gently to theirs. “Hey, little one. I’m your dad. And I promise—I’ll love you forever.”

When the nurse finally allowed visitors, the boys filed in cautiously, their usual boisterousness muted by awe.

Han was the first to speak, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh my God.”

Felix’s eyes filled instantly, tears spilling down his cheeks. “They’re perfect,” he breathed. “Hyung, you’re a dad.”

Minho lingered in the doorway, arms crossed but lips twitching into a rare, proud smile. Seungmin and I.N leaned over each other to catch a glimpse, both wide-eyed and speechless. Hyunjin clutched Han’s arm so tightly that his knuckles went white.

One by one, they stepped closer, peering down at the tiny face nestled in your arms. The baby’s little fists waved, eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed in the faintest pout.

“They’re already cooler than Chan hyung,” Han joked weakly, wiping at his face.

You laughed softly, exhausted but glowing. “Want to meet them?”

What followed was pure, chaotic tenderness. Felix whispered sweet nothings in a trembling voice. Hyunjin gasped every time the baby moved. Seungmin smiled so softly it nearly broke your heart. Even Minho reached out, letting the baby’s tiny fingers curl around his.

The boys gathered close again, cooing, whispering. Felix’s tears flowed freely as he touched her tiny hand.

Han muttered, “She’s already cuter than me, that’s not fair.” Hyunjin insisted he was the favorite uncle, to which I.N rolled his eyes.

Changbin hung back at first, arms crossed, watching. His throat felt tight, and he didn’t trust his voice. But when you looked up and beckoned, he finally stepped forward.

“Here,” you whispered, shifting carefully. “Say hello.”

He hesitated—big hands trembling slightly as he reached out—but the moment her tiny fingers wrapped instinctively around his pinky, something in him cracked.

“Oh,” he breathed, eyes wide. “She’s… wow.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s really here.”

Chan smiled at him, exhaustion and pride mingling. “Yeah. She’s ours.”

For once, Changbin didn’t tease. He just nodded, blinking quickly, then muttered, “You did good, hyung. Both of you.”

By the time they all backed away, reluctantly giving you space, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

Later, when the bustle had faded and visiting hours were over, you lay in the dim hospital room, your baby sleeping soundly in the bassinet. Chan sat beside you, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze fixed on the little miracle you’d brought into the world.

He turned to you, eyes shining. “Thank you,” he whispered.

You frowned gently. “For what?”

“For everything. For loving me. For giving me a family. For making me the happiest man alive.”

Your throat tightened. You reached up, cupping his cheek. “This is only the beginning, Chan. We have a whole life ahead of us.”

He leaned down, kissing you slowly, reverently. It wasn’t the frantic kiss of passion, but the deep, soul-stirring kiss of someone who had found his forever.

When he pulled back, his smile was tender, almost boyish. “You and me,” he murmured. “And now, us three. Always.”

You closed your eyes, warmth spreading through you. And as your baby stirred softly in the bassinet, the three of you wrapped in the quiet of a new beginning, you knew with absolute certainty: home wasn’t a place.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Christopher Bang x Reader (Poly)  Genre: Romance, Angst, Explicit, Polyamorous, Smut  Word Count: ~4,550  Summary: You didn’t realize Bang Chan had a twin until the two of them enter your life in very different ways. Chan is steady and caring, Christopher is sharp and teasing, and you’re caught between them. Unable to choose, your desire pulls all three of you together, leading to fiery tension, stolen kisses, and a passionate, intimate connection that satisfies every craving — heart, body, and soul. ——————————————————————————

The first time you see him, he’s leaning against the mirrored wall of the dance studio, sweat rolling down his neck as he catches his breath. His ash-grey hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, and the rise and fall of his chest has your own lungs tightening as though you’ve been the one rehearsing for hours.

Bang Chan.

You’ve heard of him long before you ever stepped foot into the JYP building, but seeing him in person is something else entirely. His voice when he greets you is warm, disarming, and the smile he offers nearly knocks the air out of you.

“New trainee?” he asks, tilting his head, a playful spark in his eyes.

You nod, nerves rattling under your skin. “Yeah. Just got in today.”

“Welcome, then. I’m Chan.” He extends a hand, his palm still warm and calloused from dance. When your fingers brush his, it’s like static — a little too much, a little too charged for a simple handshake.

You tell yourself it’s just adrenaline.

But when you run into him again later that week, something feels… different.

This time his hair is darker — black, glossy under the fluorescent lights — and when he looks at you, the curve of his lips is sharper, more teasing, and his voice drops low like he knows something you don’t.

“Lost again, rookie?” he murmurs, brushing past you in the hallway. The faintest graze of his shoulder against yours leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Your mind stumbles. Same eyes. Same voice. But… different.

“Chan?” you ask, uncertain.

He smirks, a little cruel. “Close enough.” And then he disappears into one of the practice rooms, leaving you rooted to the spot with your pulse hammering in your ears.

It isn’t until days later that you realize the truth: Bang Chan has a twin.

Christopher Bang.

And the more time you spend around them, the more impossible it becomes to separate your feelings.

Chan with his easy laughter, his quiet strength, the way he always seems to notice when you’re struggling.

Christopher with his sharp edges, his teasing smirks, the dangerous gleam in his eyes that makes your stomach twist and your thighs press together when you’re alone at night.

Two sides of the same coin.

And you’re caught between them.

The problem is that neither of them makes it easy for you.

Chan is always there when you need him. The late nights when you’re too sore to walk back to the dorms, he carries your bag without asking. The mornings when your confidence falters, he leans against the wall outside your practice room with a quiet smile, murmuring, “You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

His warmth is steady, like the sun — constant, unwavering, safe.

But then there’s Christopher.

You never know when he’s going to appear. Sometimes it’s after midnight, when you’re sneaking back from the vending machine with a soda in your hand. Sometimes it’s during your solo practices, when you think you’re completely alone — until you see his reflection in the mirror, leaning against the barre, arms crossed, that smirk tugging at his lips.

“You move better when you’re not trying so hard,” he says once, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes heat coil low in your stomach. “Stop chasing perfection. Let yourself feel it.”

He’s chaos where Chan is calm, and you hate how much you crave it.

The lines blur so easily. One night, you find yourself texting Chan about how exhausted you are — and he shows up at your dorm with takeout and a soft blanket, tucking you in like you’re something precious. Another night, you’re practicing alone and Christopher’s behind you, his voice a low whisper in your ear as he adjusts your posture, his chest pressing firm against your back.

You don’t realize you’ve started dreaming about them both until you wake up one morning, sheets tangled, skin damp with sweat, and their names on your lips.

It should feel wrong. But it doesn’t.

The guilt doesn’t sink in until the day you nearly mix them up.

You’re in the studio, laughing at something Chan said, when Christopher walks in without knocking. He freezes, his dark eyes flicking from your smile to Chan’s face. Something sharp passes between the twins — too quick, too subtle for anyone else to catch, but you feel it like a blade in your chest.

Christopher’s jaw tightens. “Didn’t know I was interrupting.”

Chan frowns. “Chris—”

But Christopher’s already gone, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the glass.

The silence that follows is thick, suffocating. You look at Chan, guilt clawing up your throat, but he just gives you a small, tired smile.

“He’s… complicated,” Chan says quietly. “Don’t take it personally.”

But you do. You can’t help it. Because no matter how different they are, you can’t shake the truth building inside you like a storm:

You don’t want to choose.

You want them both.

And when Christopher finally corners you in the practice room weeks later, his breath hot against your ear, his words a dangerous whisper — “Tell me, sweetheart. Do you look at him the same way you look at me?” — you know you can’t keep running from it.

Your pulse is hammering as Christopher’s stare pins you in place. The practice room is dark except for the dim glow from the mirrors, and his body is much too close — heat radiating off him, breath brushing the side of your neck.

Your voice is unsteady when you try to answer. “Chris—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, a smirk tugging at his lips even as his eyes burn with something far deeper. “Don’t lie to me. I see it. The way you look at him. The way you blush. You think I don’t notice?”

Your mind stumbles. You should deny it, push him away, do anything but admit the truth clawing at your chest. But the words slip out anyway, raw and desperate:

“I can’t choose.”

Christopher goes still. For a heartbeat, you think you’ve ruined everything. But then he lets out a low chuckle, dark and sharp, and his hand lifts to cup your jaw.

“Good,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip. “Because I wasn’t planning to let you go either.”

Your breath catches when he leans in, lips ghosting yours but not yet claiming, teasing, testing. And then—

“Chris.”

The voice that cuts through the air is rough, tense. You both turn to see Chan standing in the doorway, grey hair damp from practice, his eyes fixed on you, then on his twin’s hand against your skin.

For a long moment, none of you move.

Chan’s jaw clenches. “What are you doing?”

Christopher smirks, but his touch on your face is gentle, deliberate. “What you were too scared to.”

The tension is unbearable, thick enough to choke on. You should speak, explain, apologize — but instead, what comes out is the truth, trembling and reckless:

“I want both of you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and dangerous.

Chan’s eyes widen, shock flashing across his face. Christopher’s smirk only deepens, but there’s something softer flickering in his gaze now, too.

“Both?” Chan’s voice cracks on the word, like he doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod, heat flooding your cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t choose. I don’t want to.”

For a moment, silence reigns. And then Chan steps forward, slow but certain, until he’s standing in front of you, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re playing with fire,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

Behind you, Christopher’s hand slides down, skimming the curve of your neck, your shoulder, the line of your waist. His lips brush your ear, voice low and rough.

“Then let’s burn.”

The air shatters. Chan’s mouth crashes against yours, soft but desperate, while Christopher presses up against your back, lips dragging along your throat. Their hands are everywhere — Chan’s cupping your cheek, Christopher’s gripping your hip — and you gasp into the kiss, overwhelmed, undone.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

You don’t know how you end up against the mirrored wall, Chan’s body pressing into yours from the front while Christopher cages you in from behind. Their mouths move in sync — one claiming your lips, the other sucking at the tender skin of your neck — and your knees nearly buckle.

“Mine,” Christopher growls against your throat.

“Ours,” Chan corrects, his voice a low rumble before he kisses you again, deeper this time.

Your reflection in the mirror is flushed, lips swollen, hair messy — a stranger caught between two sets of hands, two mouths, two bodies.

Chan’s kiss is all heat and devotion, lips moving with a desperate kind of reverence. Christopher is fire at your back, his teeth grazing your throat, his hands bold as they slip beneath the hem of your shirt.

You gasp when his palms find your bare skin, dragging up over your ribs until he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples. The sudden jolt of sensation rips a whimper from your throat, swallowed instantly by Chan’s hungry kiss.

“Fuck, she sounds so sweet,” Christopher growls against your ear, squeezing lightly. “Bet she’s even sweeter when she’s begging.”

“Chris—” Chan starts, but his protest dies when you arch into both of them, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I can’t—” Your voice breaks, breathless. “Please—”

That’s all it takes.

Chan’s hands slip down, tugging at the waistband of your leggings, while Christopher’s mouth finally claims your neck in earnest, sucking a mark into your skin that makes your knees tremble. Between the two of them, you’re stripped quickly, your leggings and panties pooling at your ankles until you’re bare beneath their greedy eyes.

“Fuck,” Chan breathes, grey eyes dark as he takes you in. “You’re beautiful.”

Christopher smirks, his hand sliding down your stomach, lower, lower, until his fingers graze the slick heat between your thighs. You cry out, clinging to Chan as Christopher strokes lazily, teasing, circling your clit until your hips jerk.

“Already soaked,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “All this for us?”

Your head falls back against his shoulder, a broken moan spilling from your lips. “Yes—God, yes—”

Chan captures your mouth again, muffling your cries as Christopher slides a finger inside you, then two, stretching you open with rough, practiced strokes. The sensation is overwhelming — Chan’s kiss, Christopher’s fingers, the weight of their bodies pressing you against the mirror.

You’re unraveling too fast, heat coiling tight in your core.

“Don’t stop—please—” you beg, thighs shaking as Christopher curls his fingers just right.

Chan pulls back just enough to watch your face, his own lips parted, chest heaving. “So good for us,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “So perfect.”

Your climax slams into you hard, your cry echoing in the mirrored room. Christopher groans against your ear, fucking you through it with his fingers while Chan kisses every sound from your lips.

But it isn’t enough. Not even close.

When the aftershocks leave you trembling, you reach for Chan, tugging at the waistband of his sweats with shaking hands. “Please—need you—both of you—”

The way they freeze at your words, the way their eyes meet over your shoulder — it’s enough to steal your breath.

Christopher withdraws his fingers, shoving them between your lips instead. “Suck,” he orders, and you obey, tasting yourself on his skin. His groan is filthy, low. “Fuck, she’s perfect.”

Chan curses softly, tugging his sweats down just enough to free his cock — thick, flushed, the sight of it making your mouth water. He strokes himself once, then presses the tip against your slick entrance, searching your eyes for permission.

“Ready?” he whispers, voice trembling with restraint.

You nod, clutching at his shoulders. “Please, Chan—”

He pushes in slowly, carefully, filling you inch by inch until you’re gasping, nails biting into his skin. The stretch is intense, burning, but the way he groans your name against your lips makes it worth every second.

Behind you, Christopher grinds against your ass, his cock hard and insistent through his jeans.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Watching him fuck you is driving me insane.”

Chan buries himself fully inside you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot and ragged. “She feels so good,” he groans, hips beginning to move in slow, steady thrusts.

You’re caught between them, sandwiched, drowning in pleasure.

Chan’s rhythm builds, each thrust pushing you back against Christopher’s chest. His hands are greedy on your body, sliding over your breasts, your hips, your throat.

“Move her closer,” Christopher growls, and suddenly Chan lifts one of your legs, hitching it around his waist so he can drive in deeper. You cry out, the sound broken, and Christopher smirks against your ear. “That’s it, baby. Let him fuck you open for me.”

Your head spins at his words. For me.

Chan groans, thrusts stuttering for a moment. “Chris—”

“She can take it,” Christopher cuts him off, already unzipping his jeans. He frees himself, thick and heavy against your ass, and you realize what he’s about to do. Your eyes widen, nerves sparking hot in your veins.

“Wait—”

Christopher pauses instantly, his lips brushing your temple. “We’ll go slow. Only if you want it.”

The gentleness in his tone, so different from his usual sharpness, makes your chest ache. You nod, breathless. “I want it. Both of you. Please.”

Chan groans at your confession, kissing you hard, his thrusts quickening as if the idea of sharing you with his twin is driving him wild.

Christopher spits in his hand, stroking himself once before pressing the blunt head of his cock against your other entrance. He takes his time, circling, teasing, until you’re trembling with need. Then slowly, carefully, he pushes in.

The burn is intense, your body stretching to take them both, but their hands and voices ground you.

“You’re okay,” Chan whispers, kissing your jaw. “So good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Christopher groans, every muscle in his body straining as he eases deeper. “Relax for me, sweetheart. Let us in.”

When he finally sinks all the way, you’re full beyond belief, stuffed to the brim with both of them. A whimper escapes your lips, raw and desperate.

“Holy fuck,” Chan gasps, barely holding back. “I can feel him through you.”

“Yeah,” Christopher growls, his hand sliding to your clit, rubbing tight circles that make your vision blur. “She was made for us.”

They start to move — Chan thrusting from the front, Christopher rolling his hips from behind — and the sensation is overwhelming, too much, not enough, everything at once. You’re crying out, clawing at Chan’s shoulders as Christopher fucks you from behind, both of them stretching and filling you in perfect rhythm.

Every drag, every thrust, every brush of their hands on your skin has you spiraling.

“Mine,” Chan whispers against your lips, kissing you desperately.

“Ours,” Christopher corrects again, his voice dark and possessive.

Your climax rips through you with a scream, body clenching so hard around them both that they curse in unison, their own movements faltering. Chan’s release comes first, hot and deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours as he groans your name like a prayer. Christopher follows moments later, spilling into you with a guttural moan, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to mark you.

You collapse between them, trembling, boneless, caught in their arms as they hold you up.

For a long while, the only sound is heavy breathing, the faint hum of the studio lights, the rapid pounding of your heart.

Finally, Chan kisses your hair, his voice soft and wrecked. “What happens now?”

Christopher’s hand strokes down your side, grounding, steady. “Now?” He smirks, but his eyes are serious when they meet his brother’s over your shoulder. “Now she’s ours. Both of us.”

Your throat tightens, but when you nod, it’s with certainty. “I don’t want to choose. I want you both.”

Chan and Christopher share a long, unreadable look — twin reflections, one soft, one sharp — before Chan sighs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Then we’ll make it work.”

Christopher presses a kiss to your shoulder, his smirk gentler this time. “Damn right we will.”

Between them, wrapped in their arms, you finally let yourself believe it: you don’t have to choose.