BANG CHAN x READER
GENRE: Boyfriend!Chan, Established Relationship, Romance, Fluff
WARNINGS: none!, somewhat proofread
WC: 1.5k
A/N: Happy birthday to me! An itty bitty Chan scenario in celebration for me-day woohoo! (this was supposed to be a preluding vignette in the sunlight and daydreams universe but I figured that would be super evil of me so let’s pretend it’s not lmao)
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
── MASTERLIST
────────────────────────
The ocean sings. Waves crashing loud against the rocks, the late afternoon brings forth a beautiful pinkening sky and cool, hair-fluttering breeze.
A little chilly, but you don’t mind. Not when Chan’s grip is warm, fingers cupping yours as your entwined hands swing between the both of you.
Your feet sink in the sand, wet and cold against your bare feet the closer you get to the shore, leaving behind footprints and clinging to your skin.
You really don’t mind, Chan hums a soothing tune as you walk, distracting you from the fact that you’ve left all your belongings back there where you had spent the afternoon lounging under the sun and building sandcastles.
Though the walk is nice. Comforting, and soothing. The sun sinks lower by the minute, the kind that has both of you pause, facing the horizon to take in the glimmering sea that reflects the light like a painting. The kind of sight that has your breath hitch, has you stop, eyes shining as you take in the pink and purple sky, the bright orange sun ready to bid its farewell.
Chan seems to agree, your boyfriend squeezing your hand almost faintly before he mutters the words you would have missed between the sunset, the waves and the winds.
You don’t though, not when Chan looks as if you mean the word, the same shine in his eyes as they meet yours.
“—It would be perfect to propose here.”
You think you would’ve laughed startled at such a random exclamation, would have agreed with such an romantic observation. Yet before you can even giggle at the idea, even agree with him with a hum and a nod, you only turn to find a sight that has you freezing.
Eyes widening and lips parting with shock because he doesn’t even wait for his words to settle, doesn’t tear his gaze away, already dropping down with a widening grin.
Chan kneels. Right there, right before your suddenly frozen form.
He’s on one knee, pants planted over the wet sand, the seafoam left after retreating waves seeping through the material, yet even the dirt and water isn’t enough to keep him from doing what he decided to do.
Everything continues as it was. The sun still on its descent, the waves still crashing against the rocks, rising over sand, the winds still ruffle through his hair, tousling the strands.
Yet nothing remains the same for you, not when his gaze meets yours so warm, so fond. Locked onto you with a lingering softness that shows in the way he fishes out the small box from the depths of his pocket.
Where had he hidden it all day? You’re clueless. Yet he holds it before you, opening with ease, the slight tremble in his hands going unnoticed amidst the sudden emotions that surge through you. Chan holds it out before you. Offering you something you’ve only dreamt of, you can’t help but gasp, eyes flickering to what’s inside.
It’s a glimmering thing, dainty and elegant, the ring glints beautifully against the sunset. And he cradles it in his palms, inhaling deeply as he lets you react. Your hands fly to your mouth, pressing against your lips, as you once again gasp louder. The ocean waves are cold over your feet, wind biting at your skin, yet you feel as if you are burning up.
“I—” Chan begins, clearing his throat, a twinge of nervousness crossing his gaze but the wide smile remains.
“I love you.” He states, softly, loudly, those words coming out as easily as breathing.
His eyes dart over your shocked-still expression, at the misty haze in your own gaze as you finally grasp what is happening.
“‘Is this love?’” He whispered.
A repeat of a question you’ve asked. It’s a familiar question, one that has you break into a breathy and wet scoff-like giggle as you realize exactly what he is referring to, hands falling to your sides, shoulders relaxing as you let him continue.
Let him propose.
“The night after our first date, after I spent the entire after of it distracted by thoughts of you, you sent me that question.” His cheeks dimpled with the way he grinned, watching you exhale with a breathless laugh.
“—Granted, it was a message you accidentally texted to me instead of your friend—immediately followed with ten other messages of you freaking out over it, before threatening me to forget how you just embarrassed yourself.” He recalls with a chuckle, with a fondness and a grin that has you mimic the glee, though the tears now freely slide down your cheeks.
“But how could I have ever forgotten such a question when that same night I decided that I had an answer for it. That seeing your adorable sputtering and your refusal to meet my eyes the next day made me realize that it was love. That you were it for me.” There’s a waver in his voice, a shine in his own eyes as he takes in the beautiful sight that is you.
But he barrels on, as if he has so much to say but not enough time—at least not currently. Not when he has a ring to put on your finger. The recollection of your most precious moments could wait a little.
“I knew I wanted to marry you then. I knew I wanted a full life with you.” He swallows his nervousness, his emotions that threaten to crack in his voice.
You almost whimper shakily, happily, your expression soft and warm and oh-so-touched as his voice drops just a tad bit softer, just a tinge warmer.
“I want more late night adventures, more spontaneous trips, the slow strolls hand-in-hand. I want the growing birthdays to come, the wrinkles and white hair, all the way to the end. Till death do us apart—right after that first date. I want it all with you.”
You swipe the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that pool at your jaw, shuddery breath escaping your lips with a soft sob. Chan kneels patiently, as he continues to make your heart flip, your stomach swoop, your eyes prick with more happy tears.
“I’m sure you know by now how painfully obsessed I am with you.” He too chuckles wetly, his voice slightly shaky, yet dripping with something akin to adoration as he looks up at you, absolutely besotted.
“You already know how deeply I love you, but I’ll say it again. I love you. And I will continue to do so for the rest of my remaining life. Will you—” He stutters just the slightest as he swallows, taking in a nervous breath, his eyes locked onto yours.
“Will you please marry me?”
The waves crash loud, your feet sink into the wet sand, the sunlight is moments away from disappearing, yet you only look at Chan, on his knees, his own teary eyes and that beautiful smile of his that you’re so fond of.
Your boyfriend awaits the answer he should know you would give him almost nervously. And even with the shock and the heart-touching words spoken, you can’t help but laugh almost helplessly. The tears continue to cloud your vision yet even with blurred sight you know exactly where to find your most special person, lunging forward you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, falling onto your own knees.
Chan wobbles just the slightest at the impact but he holds you firmly, pressed right against him.
“Yes. Yesyesyes.” Your voice is half-choked, half a whisper as you tug him closer into your embrace.
Chan’s own voice cracks as he laughs against you, arm wrapping tight around you as he inhales your scent.
“Thank you. I love you so so much.” He pulls away, just enough to gaze into your eyes, lashes wet from his tears, yet his smile remains.
“Give me your hand.” He whispers.
You don’t wait another second, your hand trembling between the both of your kneeling bodies as Chan looks down to pluck the ring out, box forgotten over the sand.
It slips on easily, cool against your skin, yet even that doesn’t last long, not when his hands cup your fingers in his, engulfing you in his warmth.
“You won’t regret it, I swear—”
As much as you want to hear more of his heartfelt promises, you can’t help but want to disappear in his embrace, melt into his arms. Squeeze into his chest, and make yourself home. You lean in to capture his lips, kissing him and swallowing his promises. And he easily allows you to do so.
Melt into his embrace, disappear in his arms.
Kissing you in that slow, careful kind of way. The one where his fingers sit just right below your jaw, cradling your face as if you’re the most delicate thing he has. And you can’t help the sigh that leaves you, the way you pull him close and allow the thought to settle.
So this is love.
He squeezes you a tinge bit tighter, kisses you just a tad bit harder, his mouth hot against yours.
And how sweet it was.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
e n d .
Sethos clears his throat, taking a few seconds to calm down, to come back to himself. The next thing he’s going to say needs to be the right one, needs to make him look like a sane person instead of the bundle of nerves he feels right now. However, Hat Guy chooses exactly that moment to turn towards him and meet his stare, while lifting a hand to push back a strand of hair from his eyes, and Sethos ends up blurting out: “Gods, I missed you.”
The Cyno that lives in his head goes: idiot.
rubatosis (sethos/wanderer; explicit; set after the nod-krai aq; 5.279 words)
I loved your latest prompt fic! If you’re still taking them, I’d love #7 from the list for siegfried x audrey.
This passed the word count of a drabble so I also posted on AO3! I hope you enjoy. ☺️
there's something in my soul that cries out when the seasons change
The front door closed on the last of the well wishers. Their platitudes and merriment echoed through the foyer, pressing against the heaviness of unspoken emotion that lingered in the house.
Audrey smoothed her hands over her upswept hair then nervously down the front of her best dress wishing she had the comfort and shield of her pinny as she moved from the front door and into the parlor.
She busied herself collecting abandoned plates and glasses, straightening crushed pillows but always in her periphery was her employer Mr. Farnon. He had insisted despite her protests on throwing her and Gerald a going away party. He’d been cheerful, almost manic in his manner and in his toast for their happiness and future but now he sat quietly, maudlin, scotch glass empty but still dangling in his hand as if he’d forgotten it was there.
The stack of plates and cutlery she collected rattled as she placed them on the sideboard seeming to break Mr. Farnon from his far off musings.
“Ah, Mrs. Hall,” he cleared his throat as he rose from his seat and set his glass down on the mantle. As of late she found herself constantly clearing empty cut crystal glasses from the mantle, beside his favored armchair and his office. She couldn’t help but notice that he was sleeping less and drinking more though he was no less thorough with his patients and sympathetic to their owners.
Mr. Farnon rubbed his eyes like a sleepy child - Jimmy before Helen carted him upstairs to bed against his plaintive protests and reaching arms, for his father James, Aunt Audrey or his favorite Uncle Siegfried. “Has everyone left?”
“A few minutes ago, yes.” The high back chair was a paltry barrier between where he stood by the fireplace and where she fidgeted with the doily atop its back, adjusting and readjusting trying to smooth it flat.
“I was sorry to miss goodbyes, Gerald non-withstanding.” And there was the elephant in the room, the cause for the chasm that seemed to have opened between them. Audrey wasn’t worried about him; Mr. Farnon was all bluff, no bluster; the chair wasn’t for his benefit but her own to keep her from going to him. Mr. Farnon’s emotional or physical wellbeing couldn’t be her concern anymore, though she’d been taking care of him, heart and soul, for years. Though he never knew it, Siegfried Farnon would always hold a piece of both, but she was marrying another, she had to reserve some small pieces for Gerald. He would love her, take care of her and give her a home she could truly call her own.
“He were needed back home, he’s heading out on the morning train to finalize our living arrangements.” Audrey’s eyes wandered over his tense shoulders, the hand that rubbed at the base of his neck and the rumpled silk of his vest that she’d ironed just yesterday.
Mr. Farnon moved from the mantle to the silent record player where the needle bumped along the edge of the record. He lifted the arm and flipped over the record and reset the needle, the crescendo of an opening big band number filled the previously quiet space though it didn’t quite break the tension.
“I thought you were staying with Gerald’s sister, Caroline, is it?” He turned just slightly, barely sparing her a glance.
“Carol,” Audrey gripped the back of the chair. “And no, we’ve made other arrangements.” She looked down trying to fight back a blush. She was no blushing school girl, this would be her second marriage after all but speaking about her new marriage with Siegfried embarrassed her.
“From what you told me she was sick, that’s why Gerald was so desperate to get back to the Lakes?” He put his hands in his pockets as he finally turned to face her, a pinch between his brows. And drag you with him, remained unspoken.
“She’s not so far off yet.” She moved back to the sideboard, picking up the discarded champagne bottle. Empty, and the joyous bubbles she’d drank to her impending nuptials with it.
“Gerald found us a cottage not far away from her home.” She turned to him with a smile but even though she knew it was false it felt brittle around the edges like the crumbled biscuit crumbs left on the empty tea tray.
“Ah, connubial bliss.” The asperity in his voice wasn’t lost on her. Audrey pretended not to hear as the song playing on the record player came to a cymbal crashing end.
He had been increasingly short tempered of late, where before he had opened up about his troubles asking for her help but he had become surprisingly tight-lipped. She distractedly refolded discarded napkins.
“When are you going to leave?” The question was like a barb straight to her heart and she dropped the napkin. He must have seen the stricken look on her face because he amended his question.
“Leave for your new home, I mean.” He drew a hand out of his pocket and held it out, conciliatory but he didn’t leave her time to answer before he continued.
“Because when I think about home, I think about you.” If a land mine had gone off in the parlor she would have been more surprised. “After a long day up in the Dales the thought of you here at Skeldale House waiting with a warm meal and us sitting here in front of the fire with Jess and Dash, that’s home.” At the sound of her name the golden retriever pushed her head up under his hand hanging by his side. The only smile he had spared for the dog as he ruffled her ears.
“I apologize, Mrs. Hall. That was unacceptable.” The words he’d just uttered and any vulnerability he had exposed had him doing an about face and heading toward the foyer.
Audrey was dumbstruck, Mr. Farnon’s mood was as changing as a Yorkshire spring day, starting with a blustery storm and ending with the warmth of sunshine on the damp fields. Before he made his escape she managed to speak, calling out his name. “Mr. Farnon!”
“Siegfried!” He was steps from the entry way, Jess at his heels when her desperate cry of his Christian name stopped him in his tracks, hand on the doorframe.
What was she to do or say with the thought of Gerald fresh on her mind but the honesty in his words spurred her forward her heels making quick work across the room. Audrey reached out and placed her hand at his elbow as she stopped in front of him.
“I’m happy for you,” he swallowed roughly. “And Gerald.” Mr. Farnon smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jess whined pressing up against their legs and he reached down to pet her ears, his usually well coiffed hair falling slightly over his forehead. Without thinking Audrey reached out to brush it back, the warmth of his skin against her cold fingers a shock. She tried to pull away but he grasped her hand in his and held it against his cheek.
“Siegfried.” His name on her lips was but a whisper and she saw the intent in his eyes, how she’d longed for it these many years, her breath caught in her lungs as he gripped her waist, somehow both firm and gentle as he lent his head towards her but it was too late.
Gerald.
At the last moment she turned her head but not soon enough. The brush of his lips grazed the corner of her mouth, dry and warm with a hint of the scotch he’d been drinking. The prickle of his moustache sent her pulse pounding. Was it the situation or the feeling of euphoria that sprung within her breast? She was afraid to look at it too closely.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Hall,” he drug a shaking hand down his face as he stepped back, dropping his hand from her waist as Jess yelped at being trod on. “I don’t seem to be myself.”
Audrey was speechless watching as he smoothed his hair back into place and stalked down the hall toward the kitchen.
“Quite alright.” The words fell from her mouth into the empty foyer as she held her fingers against her lips. She heard the back door rattle in its frame as he shut it forcefully and then the sound of an engine as he cranked the Rover.
The record skipped and popped warbling over a farewell tune, a song that had been played until the record was scratched. Tears filled her eyes as it brought back memories of early days at Skeldale House when it had woken her in the night. The needle scratched as it was lifted and dropped again and again, the sweetly melancholic lyrics luring her back to sleep. A broken man missing his dearly departed wife.
Goodnight sweetheart, all my prayers are for you
Goodnight sweetheart, I’ll be watching o’er you
Tears and parting my make us forlorn,
But with the dawn, a new day is born
Goodnight sweetheart, sleep will banish sorrow
Goodnight sweetheart, ‘til we meet tomorrow
Dreams enfold you in each one I’ll hold you
Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight
Thank you @dayas for looking over this for me, especially since you don’t even follow the fandom. 💜
could you write smth like,,, stephen falling in love with his neighbor tony, who is, according to stephen, the cutest and most precious dad? (tony’s son is obviously peter aaah)
When they meet, Stephen is in a badmood. He doesn’t have a lot of contact with his neighbours, and he’s fineholing himself up in his apartment, 23C. He has just come back from a longshift from the hospital where he failed to save three people who had been in agruesome car accident.
He’s tired, and he feels disappointed,and there’s an empty feeling in his stomach, and he just wants to go home andsleep for the rest of the day.
The child that bumps into him, just ashe puts his key in his door, doesn’t help his mood. ‘’Watch where you’regoing,’’ he snaps at the boy, who can’t be more than five years old, withliquid brown eyes and a unruly mop of brown hair.
‘’Sorry, mister,’’ the boy mutters, andthen a man steps out of the front door next to Stephen’s. His hair is the samecolour as the boy’s, but his eyes are a shade darker, a warm chocolate that canseemingly look into Stephen’s soul.
‘’Hey,’’ the man says. ‘’Sorry, didPeter bump into you? Peter, did you say you’re sorry?’’
‘’Yes, dad,’’ the boy complains, andruns inside the apartment without looking back.
The man smiles hesitantly at Stephen andhides his hands behind his body, almost as if he’s insecure. ‘’Sorry aboutthat. He’s not this snappish, usually. He’s not taking the move very well. Myname is Tony.’’
Stephen takes the hand Tony holds out tohim, more out of courtesy than anything else. The man’s smile is bright,though, and maybe he isn’t that bad. He’s attractive enough, certainly.‘’Stephen Strange,’’ he says.
Maybe other people would ask how he’sdoing, or if he’s settling in. Maybe other people would ask why the boy – Peter– is upset. Maybe other people would offer him coffee. Stephen just wants to goto sleep. Tony seems to sense that Stephen doesn’t want to start a conversation,and backs away. His smile diminishes just the tiniest bit, but he notices, andhe feels somewhat guilty.
‘’Do you want some coffee?’’ he asks,before he can stop himself.
Tony’s smile glows again, and that isStephen’s first mistake.
~*~
In all fairness, the mistakes are easyto make. Once Stephen starts, he finds it hard to stop. Originally, it was justTony’s expressive eyes that convinced him to invite his new neighbour in, butthen he starts knowing Tony. Usually,knowing people is enough to make sure Stephen isn’t attracted to them anymore.Most people have a hard time keeping up with him, or are put off by his sarcasmand intelligence. Most people aren’t Tony.
Tony takes his coffee dark, and hasseveral PhDs, and reads book on advanced mechanics just to correct them. Tonyresponds to Stephen’s sarcasm with a sharp wit, turning the tables around. Tonyisn’t impressed with Stephen’s money or brains, but laughs instead and mocksStephen about his choice of apartment.
Tony is pretty much everything Stephenlooks for in someone. He’s not picky about men or women, but he’s picky abouttheir characteristics. Tony is an absolute genius, funny, and nice on the eyes.Stephen is very much in trouble.
~*~
For the first few weeks, Tony keepscoming around. Stephen doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t have a lot of friends, andhe likes having Tony there. He wonders if he should make a move on Tony, askhim for coffee outside, go on a date,but decides to wait. He’s not in a rush, and Tony hasn’t mentioned a possiblelove interest.
Stephen wonders why, but takes it as thegood sign it is, in his eyes. He can take his time figuring Tony out, if he’sinterested in men, if he’s interested in Stephenlike that.
He has pretty good hopes, until the dayTony’s coming over to bring him a few books on astrophysics, as Stephen asked,and Tony gets a phone call.
‘’Yeah?’’ Tony answers into his phone,easily. Stephen turns his back to the man, laying the borrowed books on the stairsto take upstairs for later. ‘’No, yeah – I told you, I can’t. I’ve got Peter.No, I know, but that’s not – that’s not what I want. Yeah, I’m sorry. No, okay.I’ll see you around. Bye.’’
‘’Missing a date?’’ Stephen quips.
It’s only when Tony answers that alarmbells go off in his head. ‘’Kind of. I’m not looking for a relationship, youknow? Not until Peter’s… well. Being a single dad is hard enough withoutjuggling someone else on the side. Peter is my absolute priority.’’
Stephen almost trips, as he walks back.Of course. Tony doesn’t talk about possible love interests, but it’s hard toshut him up about Peter. Stephen hasn’t seen a lot of the boy, ever since thekid ran into him.
This is a setback. It’s not somethingStephen can’t overcome, though. There’s some sort of story here – there’senough single parents who date, on the side. Tony is a catch, even now, as he’sstanding in Stephen’s living room in his tight jeans and white shirt thatbrings out his tan skin beautifully. A strip of sunlight catches his hair, andStephen has to shake himself out of a stupor, even as Tony looks at him withthat slight smile on his lips that makes him look so uncertain.
‘’If you want, you should bring Peteralong sometimes,’’ Stephen offers. ‘’You’ve told me so much about him, I’d loveto know him better.’’
Tony tilts his head. ‘’Yeah. I think weshould do that.’’
~*~
Of course, that was only even more of amistake.
Tony starts bringing Peter with him,when he meets up with Stephen. They don’t stick to the apartment; with Peter,they also go to the playground, and get ice cream, and they even go to ascience fair, once.
Stephen already knew Tony isn’t as toughas he makes himself seem, sometimes. He has these little ticks that give himaway, but the biggest hint is seeing how he behaves around Peter. It’s so clearthat he would do anything to keep Peter safe, to keep his son happy. The thingis; Tony’s also very good at it.
~*~
‘’Stephen!’’ Peter cries out in joy, asTony goes off on a run while Peter’s sitting on his shoulder. ‘’Stephen, helpme!’’
‘’Oh no,’’ Tony says, laughingbreathlessly, ‘’Stephen can’t help you now. He’s never going to be able to keepup with me!’’
‘’Won’t I?’’ Stephen says, and promptlystarts running after them. He’s faster, as he doesn’t have a child on his back,and catches up to Tony within the minute. A few joggers in the park look up atthem, but he doesn’t pay attention to them. It’s January, so all three of themare dressed in thick jackets, which Stephen somewhat regrets as he feels thesweat run down his neck.
‘’Okay, you got me,’’ Tony says, takingdeep breaths and leaning on his own knees. ‘’Here, Stephen, you take the littlemonster. I’m going to get a coffee over there. You want something?’’
Stephen shakes his head, and helps Peteroff Tony’s shoulders. ‘’I want hot chocolate!’’ Peter exclaims, and Tonyruffles his son’s head.
‘’I never would’ve guessed, Pete,’’ hejokes, and goes off to the coffee stand, while Peter stays with Stephen.
‘’I like you,’’ Peter proclaims all of asudden, while Stephen goes sit on a bench with him, waiting for Tony to comeback.
Stephen blinks. ‘’I like you too,Peter.’’
‘’You have the cutest son, sir,’’ awoman jogging by informs her. She’s gone before Stephen can even correct her,and Peter smiles at him toothily.
‘’And you like daddy,’’ he says.
Stephen freezes. He likes to think heisn’t very obvious, but if even Tony’s five-year-old kid can pick up on it…‘’Of course,’’ he says, before he is silent for too long a time. ‘’He’s a verygood friend.’’
‘’It’s okay,’’ Peter says. ‘’Daddy toldme. That two adults like each other very much sometimes, and then have a child.It’s okay that I was here, first. You can still like each other.’’
‘’Peter,’’ Stephen starts, carefully,but before he can continue, Tony returns. His cheeks are red with cold, and hiscurly dark hair is visible from underneath the beanie he’s wearing.
‘’Here you go, Pete, your hotchocolate,’’ he says cheerfully, handing his son the cup. He’s still holdinghis own coffee. ‘’Be careful with that, I don’t want you to burn your tongue.Did you talk about anything fun while I was gone?’’
‘’No,’’ Peter says brightly, and blowsdutifully on his hot chocolate as Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s hair.
Stephen feels a soft ache, as he feelsthe sudden desire to take off Tony’s beanie and run his fingers through Tony’shair and kiss him senseless. He wants to take Peter on his back and run aroundwith him, and see Tony’s smile and hear Peter’s giggles. He wants to share thatcoffee with Tony, and thank strangers who compliment him on Peter, instead ofexplaining to them that Peter’s not his.
This is the gravest mistakes Stephenmakes – he falls in love.
~*~
Stephen is very aware, has been since heoverheard Tony’s voice call, that this is a two-in-one kind of deal. If he’struly interested in Tony, this can’t be a one-night stand. If he’s trulyinterested, he has to commit. To Tony, and to Peter.
After the revelation he had in the park,he think he’s ready for that. In fact, it’s hard to not think about it, sometimes.When he lies alone in bed, he thinks about how it would feel to have Tonybeside him, their naked skins clinging to each other. He thinks about howTony’s curls would fit under his chin, their legs entangled. He wonders if Tonysnores. Somehow, he thinks Tony is the type to talk in his sleep.
He wonders if Peter would come to theirbed, sometimes, if he’s having nightmares. He thinks about the child fitting inbetween them. He thinks about driving Peter to school, about coming to schoolmeetings with Tony and Peter.
He even can’t stop thinking about themwhen he’s working at the hospital. It’s a slow day, and Stephen wonders if heshould text Tony. He knows Tony’s at work, though. He does something for thegovernment, or at least, that’s what Stephen took from his mumbled and vagueexplanation. Tony doesn’t talk about it a lot, and Peter seems to not reallycare what his dad really does for a living.
When he comes home, he immediatelynotices something is wrong. There’s firemen, all over the place, and walking inand out of 23B. Stephen gets closer, as a fireman tries to stop him. ‘’Sir, youcan’t go there,’’ the man tells him. ‘’The fire is contained, but our men arestill checking if everything’s secure.’’
‘’I live here,’’ he says, not looking atthe fireman, but at the apartment. ‘’I live in 23C. What happened?’’
‘’Oh,’’ the fireman says. ‘’The firestarted in 23B. Your apartment should be fine, though, it’s being checked overat the moment.’’
‘’Are Tony and Peter alright?’’ he asksurgently. Something like fear is clawing at his heart.
The fireman watches him. ‘’Yourneighbours? Yeah. The kid’s completely unharmed, the man is slightly injured,but nothing serious.’’
‘’I’m a doctor,’’ he says immediately.‘’Can I see them?’’
‘’Knock yourself out,’’ the firemansays, and leads him to a police car, where he finds Tony and Peter.
‘’Stephen!’’ Peter yells, and runs intohis arms. Stephen lifts the boy, as he regards Tony. His arm is bandaged, buthe seems fine otherwise. There’s no police officer around, and Tony gives him aweak smile.
‘’What happened?’’ he asks.
‘’It’s my fault,’’ Tony says. ‘’I hadthe stove on, and then I got a call, and then I got distracted, and the nextthing I knew the kitchen was on fire. I tried to put it out, but well…’’ Heholds up his bandaged arm with a wry expression on his face.
‘’Now they won’t let us in the houseanymore,’’ Peter says to Stephen.
Tony sighs. ‘’No. There’s a lot offixing to do, and we can’t live there for now. I’ll ask Pepper if we can crashat her place, I’m sure she won’t mind, but it’s such a long way from Peter’sschool…’’
‘’You can stay with me,’’ Stephen findshimself saying.
‘’Sleepover!’’ Peter celebrates, butStephen’s watching Tony. Tony watches him back, his dark eyes intent.
‘’You sure about that?’’ Tony asks.Stephen shrugs, helpless. He’d invite them over to live with him permanently,if he thought he could get away with it.
He already fell in love. There’s nobigger mistake he can make.
~*~
‘’This is… very kind of you,’’ Tonysays, as he comes back. He has put Peter to bed in the guest bedroom, andpresumably also made his own bed there.
Stephen smiles at him. ‘’It’s notrouble,’’ he says. ‘’You’re here on an almost daily basis, anyway.’’
Tony winces. ‘’Is that bad?’’ he asks.‘’Peter and I, we’re not interfering with your life, are we? I mean, I’ve neverseen you go out with someone, or something.’’
Stephen looks at him. It’s dark outside,and the light inside makes it feel more homely than Stephen thinks it has anyright to be. Tony sits down next to Stephen on the couch, and it’s closer thanhe would’ve expected. Tony’s dark eyes linger on him, examining him. Stephenlets him.
‘’There’s not a lot of people I’minterested in,’’ Stephen says.
‘’So you don’t date?’’ Tony presses.
Stephen shrugs, and they’re sitting soclose to each other that their shoulders almost brush. His eyes are fixed onTony’s lips: he can’t help himself. ‘’Not often,’’ he manages. ‘’Most peoplethink I’m a bastard, and I think most people aren’t worth the effort.’’
‘’I don’t think you’re a bastard,’’ Tonysays.
‘’And I don’t think you are mostpeople,’’ Stephen answers easily. Tony’s eyes are big, the light of the lampreflected in their dampness.
‘’So if I do this,’’ Tony says, andtakes Stephen’s hand. He looks slightly uncertain, but there’s something in hiseyes that’s more daring than Stephen has ever seen. ‘’That would be okay?’’
Stephen searches Tony’s eyes for only amoment more before making up his mind. He surges forward, pressing his lipsagainst Tony’s. Tony doesn’t wait a moment to respond; he’s eager, andresponsive, and it doesn’t take long for Stephen to be out of breath as theybreak apart.
‘’Would that be okay?’’ Stephenresponds, and Tony smiles.
‘’More than okay,’’ Tony says, but thenhis smile wavers. ‘’You… I’m sorry, but I need to know. This is not aheat-of-the-moment thing, am I right? I’ve been feeling like this for a while,and I need to know that you’re sure about this. I like you, a lot, and Peterlikes you, but I’m not going to date casually. I can’t do that to Peter.’’
‘’I was sure from the moment you smiledat me,’’ Stephen breathes.
Tony smiles again, and something twistsin Stephen’s stomach. This time, he knows it’s not a mistake, and he kissesTony again.
~*~
‘’I want a dinosaur,’’ Peter insists.‘’Pops, you’d give me one, right?’’
Stephen ruffles Peter’s hair and triesto stop himself from laughing. ‘’I’m not going to disagree with your dad,Peter. If he says you can’t have a dinosaur in your new room, you can’t haveit.’’
‘’Yeah, sure, make me the bad guy,’’Tony complains as he returns, and gives Stephen a quick peck on the mouth.‘’Peter, you can have one of those smaller toy dinosaurs. One, to be precise.’’
Peter cries out in joy, and goes to thetoy section as Tony throws some light bulbs into their shopping basket. ‘’Youknow that’s what he was going for, right?’’ Stephen asks.
Tony shrugs. ‘’Yeah, but he lost his oldtoy dinosaur in the fire. I was going to buy him one, anyway. This way, hewon’t nag about getting anything else on top of it.’’
Stephen smiles. ‘’I like the way youthink.’’
‘’You may be improving, but I’m stillthe master dad,’’ Tony tells him, and his smile makes Stephen’s heart melt allover again. ‘’You have a lot to learn, Padawan.’’
‘’Well, I’m supplying the house, at themoment, so I think I’m being a great dad,’’ Stephen says.
‘’The apartment is ready,’’ Tony shrugs.‘’We could always move back out.’’
‘’Don’t you dare,’’ Stephen says, andreels Tony in for a longer kiss.
Tony agrees with him wholeheartedly,after that, and Stephen feels the contentment settle in his chest.
Falling in love may have been the bestmistake he’s ever made.
Prompt: "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?" Mareven
Mare shifts nervously from foot to foot. Her gaze is locked on the boy in front of her. The drizzle is a welcome cool along her bare skin after the heat of that room. She feels thunder in the distance more than she hears it. A faint heartbeat. Her fingertips prickle and lightning peeks through the forest surrounding them. The drizzle turns into thick drops and Maven still doesn't move, doesn't speak.
She asks again, "What do we do now?" and reaches for his hand. He grips her back and turns that blank stare from the trees ahead onto her. Her breath catches and she runs a hand across his cheek. His mouth twitches, but nothing else.
"Come on," and Mare tugs them down the drive. This time she hears the thunder and she jumps a little, expecting Silvers, expecting black masks, expecting this to end now. Maven hisses and jerks his hand away and Mare looks down to see sparks flashing along her forearms. He's blinking and he's scowling and the guilt from hurting him is worth it for now.
The terror of what they've done this time far out clips the fear of that party where they helped the Guard set sights on its enemies. The first plot to kill that Mare participated in. Iral, Macanthos, Lerolan, Samos-- none of them compare to Merandus--to Queen.
Her fiancé gave in to something that night. He drew her closer, let her in, shared the scheme that was drawn up the moment she arrived at court. Whatever loyalty he had left he shared with her.
The trees ahead blur into one as she pictures Cal's legs shaking before the swing. She didn't care about Tiberias VI's death. She never wanted the boy who gave her those coins so long ago to watch his court slip through his hands with his father's blood. Mare was too small of a pawn to stop it, but big enough to help. To push him out before it got worse.
Mare is jerked still by the grip in the back of her dress.
"Where are you going?"
She whirls to dark eyes tilted towards her, briefly lit up by the gaining lightning. She gestures towards the gate that is too far yet to see. "Out. Away."
"We can't run."
"What?" Her pulse has been pounding in her ears since the door slammed shut. She isn't sure she heard him right.
"All of this--my entire life--it can't be for nothing." His jaw is clenched and his eyes search her face and she wants to hold him until he calms, but she watched the light of the fire burning his mother's heart flicker in her eyes as she died.
"It will never be for nothing if we make it out of this! It's not nothing to survive!"
Maven's hands are in her hair, running along her ears, thumbs brushing her cheeks. She grabs his wrists and strokes the soft skin under his rough sleeves. "I can't leave my kingdom. I don't want to leave."
She sniffs loudly, surprising herself. She's never been great at knowing when she's about to cry, although she should have noticed this time. "It's treason, Maven. You'll be killed."
He shakes his head slowly and she sees, finally, the gears moving in that brilliant mind. Relief, maybe, drops her floodgates and she's clinging to his waist and sobbing. Thunder crashes so loudly she might go deaf. It doesn't matter. This boy, this crazy, broken, angry, sweet, desperate boy can't die. He can't die.
"If you die, I'll kill you." It's muffled, but Maven's hold gets tighter.
"I'll tell them the truth. I'll tell them what she did to me. To Coraine." His voice lowers and she barely catches it, "To father." Maven rests his forehead against hers and the panic is rising in her throat again. He shakes her shoulders, "We will survive this. You will survive this. Say it."
Mare kisses him with parted lips and teeth. She never wanted to devour him more than in this moment. He matches her intensity, he always does, and time stops at the gasps, grunts, hand prints. He licks her bottom lip and murmurs, "Say it."
She tugs his head back by his hair. "We will survive this. I will make sure of it."
Lightning breaks so close that for a split second Maven's blue and silver eyes are as clear and determined as hers.
Mare was there when he curled into himself and screamed; the Queen's face was blank as she watched him writhe. Surprise crashed onto her face as hard as the glass paper weight in Mare's grip. Then Maven stood.
Both of them are scared, but neither of them are cowards. The thunder shakes her bones as they walk back. She only holds him tighter.
CHAN x READER (f.)
GENRE: College!au, Opposites Attract, Angst, Exes-to-Lovers, Second-Chance Romance
WARNINGS: mentions of bad breakup, cursing, pregnancy, insecurities, drinking, suggestive, somewhat proofread
WC: 9.2k
A/N: finally another campus chronicles issue who am I?? I think I’m entering my angst era. It’s about time 🙂↕️
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
── MASTERLIST
a campus chronicles feature▐
─────────────────────────
What did you feel when you thought about him?
Bittersweet. Passionate. Confused.
Blue.
Y/N’s life wasn’t supposed to be full of these unexplainable emotions, the tension. The twists and turns, so dramatic she often couldn’t believe that it was her reality. Sure, with the high piling of her coursework, the tasks from work-study in her majoring department, the assignments, the twenty, thirty page research papers, her life wasn’t in any way tension free. She was not a stranger to headaches and migraines that she often settled with another dose of caffeine.
But it was all expected.
With the kind of goals she had. The ambitious desire to be someone successful, her future had always looked bright.
Yet the tension that ate away at her, was of another kind. The kind that gripped at her heart. With each beat, named after him.
Yearning, hating, unable to let go.
Blue.
Y/N’s life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Wasn’t supposed to go like this.
The exhaustion from her daily routine itself should have been enough to lull her into a much needed slumber. Yet, even that seemed to evade her. Especially when her dreams consisted of him. The memories of something that once-was.
Fantasies of something that could have been.
She was thousands of miles away. In a foreign country, a foreign city. Surrounded by unfamiliarity. Yet, her heart was left back with him.
That asshole that kept the shattered pieces, giving her nothing but sorrow in return.
Y/N’s life was not supposed to go this way.
Sure, it’s not that she hadn't expected to fall in love. Something that naturally came when you’re young, attending school, making memorable experiences. The tingling feelings, the butterflies in your stomach, unable to keep them away from swarming you whole. The entire system was set like this, a part of life she unfortunately couldn’t control.
But she didn’t expect to fall in love with him. Someone who didn't fall into her lifestyle. A circle trying to fit into the sharp corners of a puzzle.
Y/N had mapped out her life. From primary school to university. To what followed after. The four year plan, the five year plan. The plans of a plan and all the headaches that came with it.
Coming from a family of doctors, from relatives in fields that always had others gasp impressed, she didn’t think anything of it. For her it had been normal. The overachiever gene, prominent in her terrible eyesight and endless pages of highlighted notes.
And it had gone that way for a while. Pushing herself to follow this unwritten outline she had drawn out for herself. The major she studied but somewhat liked, somewhat hated, forcing herself to stick through it because it fit into her perfect future and would guarantee her a promising career. A slight passion perhaps persisted, seeing as it didn’t consume her entirely and she certainly did enjoy some aspects of it.
Working on campus, tutoring. Getting close with professors for amazing future references. Internships lined up for the final years of university, grad school programs picked out. Everything was planned, everything was for a purpose, falling into place with ease.
Everything except Bahng Chan of course.
His dimpled smile and his spearmint-laced breath. His soft stares, his burning gazes. Entering her life out of the blue and turning it upside down.
The flutter of butterflies, the heavy emotions that seemed to come unexpectedly with him, all unplanned and out of left-field. All had scared her slightly, soothed her mostly. A circle in the sharp edges of her puzzle that she had accepted effortlessly.
And just when he had woven himself into her life and all the plans that followed, he seemed to slip away with such ease she was suddenly left completely and utterly lost.
Two years of Bahng Chan and his whirlwind love, snatched away so effortlessly, so quickly she was still grappling with the after effects.
It was kind of pathetic if she thought about it. He wasn’t even the first man she had dated. The first man she claimed to have loved, yet he was the only one that she had fallen in love with.
Maybe it was because he wasn’t like the class presidents, the top student in her department. The valedictorians, the studious pre-med majors. The guys who have potential of being prominent figures in society. The ones who wore glasses and neatly ironed button-ups, squares that fell into her life with ease.
No, Bahng Chan was anything but that. Ripped jeans and piercings were his kind of things. Black tank tops that hugged his form, showing off his tattoos, his muscled biceps that he’s worked on. A heart-throb kind of guy. A dreamer, that was no way near the type of guy her eyes were drawn to.
And it wasn’t as if she had gone out of her way to look for him either.
No. Bahng Chan was a fluke in her life. A beautiful fluke that she hated. One she still loved madly. Resenting her heart for still feeling such emotions for him after what he’d done.
It had been much longer than a year since the break-up, yet time did nothing to heal the gaping hole he left in her life. She should have moved on already. She should have been so busy she had no time to ever think about him or his beautiful face.
His gentle touch, infectious giggles.
His piercing stare that stabbed her in the chest as he had confessed that he “couldn’t do this anymore.” That he “wasn’t ready for such responsibilities.”
Wasn’t ready for commitments, for serious relationships like the one theirs had become. The memory still flashed before her from time to time. His cold tone still rang in her ears.
But it all made her laugh pathetically. Bitterly. At herself, at his stupid claims. The stupid excuses he used to slither his way out of being with her and the serious relationship theirs had become.
He said he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship but took out his piercings when she brought him home for the first time. Ditching his oversized black sweaters and distressed pants for a nice button up tucked into jeans. No dangling chains, no stitched words, the expensive kind too. All to look like the kind of man her parents expected her to bring home for the first time. Like the class presidents, the pre-med majors. Nervousness brimming in his eyes as he held her hand tightly under the table.
He said he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship but made sure everyone knew he was hers. His lockscreens, wallpapers, social media posts, all just snapshots of her, her, her. Her name in his mouth, a dimpled smile on his lips as he thought of her.
He said he wasn’t ready for a relationship but made sure to whip up warm meals for her when she was too busy to eat. Running to her when she was sick, nursing her through it, warm hands and lingering kisses. When her tire was flat and she was stuck so he ditched his classes just to get her that one time. Helping to set up the new tv stand when she moved out of the student dorms, fixing her bookshelf that had collapsed from the weight of textbooks. Doing the laundry, sleeping in her bed, his green and black toothbrush next to her electric one. A pile of his clothes still in some drawer in her apartment, folded and tucked neatly. Remnants of him remained forgotten just as he had left them, when he left her.
Chan said he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship yet maintained one with such ease it was bewildering to hear him say such a ridiculous thing.
What about all those words? Whispers of a future he envisioned. Loose outlines of his own future, more so visions maybe.
Were they simply sweet nothings, pillow-talk? Conversations that would remain in the past, between them and the four walls of the bedroom, the interior of his car.
What about when he said he wished to come home to her everyday? A warm house that they would make a home? Returning from the exhaustion of outside to melt in her arms. They’d get a dog perhaps? And when she was done with grad school he’d propose. They would wait to get a good routine built with work and jobs before they married. And when they were ready they’d plan for kids. The words of a dream life, hushed and delusional.
Not a ten year plan, at least not like the ones she strived toward, the ones she created. But simply ideals of a future. One with her.
But he claimed he wasn’t ready for such commitments. A serious relationship. Shattering all those things, the dream life that wouldn’t really come true.
Maybe it was her fault after all
Back then when everything shattered.
Maybe she shouldn’t have told him. Shouldn’t have let that fear take life in him like that. Making him run out of whatever he had been in the middle of doing that day, to be at her then-hysteric side.
The four minutes that passed had been the most intense minutes of her life. Her tear-stricken face, her shaky hands. His form pressing against the bathroom counter as he glanced at her, teeth gnawing at his fingernails. Counting down the seconds anxiously.
Maybe she should have taken those tests by herself, all three of them. Disposed of it as soon as she found out every single on read “negative”. Taking the secret with her, burying it deep in the trash, in her chest and he wouldn't have known any of it.
But she didn’t. Instead she had called him. Told him that she was terrified. That she wasn’t ready at all. That she was late and she was going to take the test and he should be at her side. But it seemed the false pregnancy had opened his eyes. A scare that had the reality of it all come crashing down on him with its harsh truth.
And just like she had been scared before and during those four minutes. Not yet ready for a baby, for the change that would come, they were still so young after all.
He too laid out his own truth. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. For such a commitment. For a girlfriend who he would propose to in a few years, who he would marry and create a family with. He wasn’t ready for any of that. Claiming to be nothing but a stupid twenty-something year old who still wanted to live his life. To do things that he wouldn’t be able to with all those what-ifs tying him down.
A hypothetical baby tying him down.
And even if there was no baby. He was scared there would be, the entire pregnancy scare being a forewarning or something like that. Stupid.
Still, he left so easily, so quickly, she was utterly confused. Utterly lost. The rose color hadn’t even worn away, yet replaced easily with blue. And every day since has been nothing but blue. A paleness, snatching away all the radiance she once knew.
Y/N was surrounded by crowds. For the last year and some, in the company of professors, colleagues. Hostel mates, foreign neighbors. Friends she made in passing, through the study-abroad program that had been a part of her written plans. Yet, even with all these new faces, she was more alone than ever.
She laughed, she smiled. Conversations flowed with ease, entertaining her plenty. Yet there was something missing. The happiness in everything was gone. Like those pieces of her heart, left behind with the one who made her feel so. The man she loved, the one that left her drowning in blue.
And finally going back home should have been a sigh of relief. A breath of fresh air. Going back to a life that didn’t consist of her running around with piles of work in her hand, inoculations, staring into microscopes. Theories and Experiments. The stench of bacteria, or sterile labs.
A chapter, a challenge completed. One whose rewards the advanced bio-chem major would reap now as she returned back for her final semester before grad school, before her internship next summer.
But she was nervous for other reasons entirely, unsurprisingly. To go back to campus, back to her apartment that still had memories of him, his things still in corners of every room.
She was nervous she would run into him.
And even if she did hear about him from time-to-time, from his friends that had become mutual at a point, their unfortunate relationship still a topic discussed amongst the group, she was scared to stand before him. In the sights of his piercing gaze. His expressions that wouldn’t be pulled into dimpled smiles. Void of the affection he wore only for her.
Their friends always seemed to mourn their once-relationship whenever they spoke. As if she hadn’t been secretly doing the exact same thing all alone in some foreign society. The study abroad program that would make her resume shine, sent her far away. One she chased after in those final days after the breakup, in hopes that it would be enough to distract her from the shattering of her heart.
“You guys were so good together.” They would sigh, tone laced with pity almost.
But all she could do was pretend. Smile and sigh into the phone as she gave them generic responses. Pretending that she had moved on. That she was over it. Over him. That she didn’t even think of him one bit. Lies that spilled so easily, she was afraid the pretense would come crashing down when she was finally placed in front of him.
Apparently he really hadn’t been ready for serious commitments according to them. That he hadn't been ready for relationships at all. Seeing as he hadn’t dated anyone else after.
Maybe she traumatized him. She would chuckle at the thought. Yet a part of her wished he was still hung up on her like she had been. But his pictures on social media, the dimpled smiles she had loved, still loves, were prominent, glowing with his radiant expression. Easily showing the world that he was happy. Happy with his single life, in his free life that allowed him to experience all the stupid things he claimed he wanted.
Apparently he was focused on work. At least it was what she heard from the grapevine of their common friends. He was focused on completing his remaining under-grad courses, the agency he was working in as an assistant, required a degree for full time roles. Knowing him he would have abandoned school once he got his foot in the door, but seeing as he persisted, it meant he really wanted to make it into the big leagues. To start his dream career in the entertainment industry.
A part of a plan that she wasn’t in anymore.
────────────────────────
Y/N still remembered the day she met Chan.
His goofy expression peered over at her as she compiled the pages of their assignment, amused. It was the start of her second semester of college, and they had already been thrown into a group assignment. An elective class, and the only one they shared over their entire college career. An unimportant course that would change her life, one she would never forget.
Y/N had heard of Bahng Chan, he was a familiar name around campus by then. A social butterfly who was popular enough to recognize, a name on the lips of those even in her department. And still, taking one glance at the so-called outgoing heartthrob, she had instantly judged him. Mentally groaning at the sight of his glimmering nose piercing, his slightly tousled hair, dark bangs falling down his forehead, she easily assumed that she was going to carry the weight of this group. A four-person cohort, though the two others who Y/N does not recall, had actually done the bare minimum after all.
A common occurrence in group assignments, of course.
But she had been wrong about Chan it seemed. Wrong all about the Film and Video Production major. Judging him all too quick, his appearance, his reputation.
Bahng Chan had taken the lead with ease. The group chat pinging the same day after class, his enthusiastic message asking for everyone’s agreed parts by the next class. He had prepared the presentation slides. The compiled documents. The templates that they had to simply plug their research into, all ready-to-go. Categorized and designed with vibrant colors. A sight that baffled her when she clicked the document link sent in the group chat later that week. Chiding herself for drawing conclusions about him from appearances alone.
Chan had taken the initiative to print all their findings. Showed up to every single group meeting that most often consisted of just the two of them. He was oddly sweet, or perhaps living up to his extrovert reputation. His dimpled smiles were always present as he approached. Bringing coffee for her, his own cup of tea. Waiting for her even when she was running late on days she had work-study.
“I saw all those formulas and sciencey words in your notebook and realized you have enough to worry about. Any more and I was scared your head would explode. Had to protect myself from such a horrific sight.”
Chan had exaggerated with a chuckle when she had asked why he had stepped up, taking his role so seriously.
He made her laugh. A lot. A sudden glint in his gaze that only appeared whenever he managed to pull a snicker out of her, appeared along with his own big smiles.
It was so easy to fall into everything that was Bahng Chan.
Fall into his extended hand of friendship. Into the whirlwind that he brought. Fall into his embrace, his lips on that final day before mid-semester break. A breath of fresh air amidst her hectic life.
The end of the group-project found them at the beginning of something else entirely.
Endless strings of texts, of long late-night video calls. The ones where the rambles stretched into hours, the kinds where neither spoke while doing their own things. Chan tinkering on the computer, humming along to something in a low murmur while she scribbled notes over the workbook, glasses perched on her nose. A certain soothe settling between them.
Holding hands as they walked each other to classes. Ditching friends to slither into the empty seat next to her in the library. Lunches filled with comfort, dates that often ended with heated makeout sessions in the backseat of his car.
For the first time, Y/N, even with the pressures of everything that was her life, felt free. And how sweet such a feeling was. One that she wanted to do nothing but continue drowning in further.
Yet, the sudden snatch back to reality, bringing her back to the surface was not what she expected.
The pregnancy scare was even less expected.
Entirely so. The kind of shock that has you bite your nails anxiously, the kind that makes you panic, heart beating frantically behind your chest, tears pricking in your eyes.
Chan had watched her trembling form as she stared down at the stick, anxiousness evident in his own body, his rigid stance, his clenched fists. His eyes met her blood-shot ones, swollen from all the crying she had done before he arrived at her place. Her lips quivered, a shuddery breath leaving her in relief.
“Negative.”
────────────────────────
Y/N had always believed in “right time, right place.” The perfect timeline of one’s life does not exist, yet the studious girl had always tried to fight that same argument. That she would prove that she could make her life perfect.
Perhaps it was the environment that she grew up in, with parents that valued academics, older brother dreaming to work for NASA, relatives that praised ambitions, she decided from a very early age that she wanted to be successful one day.
It started with small goals. The four year plan after graduating from her prestigious high school. Then before college even started she began the plans that followed long after that.
And how opposite could Bahng Chan have been. A man who followed his own ambitions, though not the kind Y/N was used to. He was a colorful streak in her black & white life. A man who ran after dreams, chasing passions. Free-for-all, going with the flow.
Yet, it was surprising how easily they worked. A circle in her puzzle. And perhaps, even they believed that they would win against the odds, believing they would last and overcome their differences. While Y/N followed her strict timeline, Chan wished to soar.
They were too different.
It was what she had told herself that year and a half that she was away from home. What she repeated countless times in hopes that she could convince herself to stop thinking about him. Him and his stupid smiles, his stupid spearmint-laced breath.
His cold stare as he broke it all away. Their relationship, her heart.
He didn’t even turn back.
But Chan could only stand rooted in spot now. Frozen and shocked when they found themselves standing before each other again, both of them faltering amidst the crowd of their friends.
Someone hissed a “Shit.” While a few others attempted to correct the sudden tension that arrived with Chan’s entrance.
“Yo, Channie!” One of his friends chuckled, the sound slightly strained as he welcomed the man with a clap on his back.
“You said you couldn’t make it tonight.” He added, his eyes flickering across the room where Y/N attempted to appear unbothered, fidgeting with her glass of water.
The gathering somehow came together at the last minute, Y/N’s freshman year roommate-turned friend who was dating one of Chan’s close acquaintances, had dragged her along. And though it was slightly awkward seeing faces that were her ex’s friends face-to-face after a while, there weren’t any hard feelings. The group welcomed her warmly.
Of course, no social-event goes without Chan’s phone blowing up with invites, and they would have all sighed in relief when he said he wasn’t going to make it, except for the fact that he finished what he had to do earlier than expected, and here he was.
“I said ‘probably won’t’.” The dazed man retorted with a murmur, though he no longer cared for explanations, seeing as their friends were only asking for his own sake.
But the damage was done. Bahng Chan once again found himself in front of the girl he refused to talk about the past almost two years, his eyes pinned over her even if he screamed at himself to look away.
He thought he convinced himself, boy did he try so hard to convince himself. But it seemed all that had gone down the drain the instant she stood before him. The instant her eyes, big and full of surprise, met his, he felt the pretense shatter.
Man, did he fucking miss her.
Chan was not a drinker, never liked the taste of alcohol as much as one would assume him to do so. The way he carried himself, how he dressed and styled, had once screamed party-goer, the typical college heartthrob that d-jayed in the greek-house parties. Yet, oddly he never liked drinking much.
But here Chan was, downing his second pint of beer. The taste of it, terrible as always, but it was enough to keep his mind off of Y/N. Off of glancing at her sat rigid in that corner of the room, lips curving into that strained-kind of smile that she wore when she was uncomfortable.
He smiled as well, chuckling along as the friends that entertained him on this side of the room said something, probably to keep his mind off the fact that his ex was also here. And as much as he tried to ignore her, tried to smile and laugh along, the crinkle of his eyes had no particular glint in them. Not the kind that expressed his happiness.
What did he need the glint for, when happy was the last thing he could say he was?
And he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
They were two sides of the same coin it seemed. Sitting on the opposite ends of the restaurant's private room which didn’t feel large enough to keep their hearts beating, pounding.
Y/N refused to let her eyes flick over to Chan. Refused to allow the hammering thoughts telling her to take a peek at him, to satiate the craving of her heart. Just a glimpse to soothe the ache that had settled ever since she had left in the first place.
Yet, a glimpse was all it took to shatter the image of Chan. Of Bahng Chan who she missed. The man that plagued her dreams, haunted her thoughts. His name is nothing but a heart ache. The man that stood across the room was not her Chan.
Another change that expressed just how much she had missed, that she was no longer a part of his life.
The familiar sights of his piercings glimmering under the light didn’t exist. Nose barren of the little jewel that she liked flicking for fun once-upon-a-time. The bomber jackets, the dark leather swapped for something she would never think he would pick out, was slung over his shoulders, blue jeans plain and a far cry from the ripped and distressed ones he loved to wear.
Bahng Chan no longer looked like a bad boy seeking out trouble. The sights of a man she had once judged at first glance, swapped out for someone unfamiliar. Grown up, looking more mature.
Maybe now he was ready for a relationship. Older, more responsible, capable enough to make one work. He hadn’t been back then, as he claimed. The sudden thought of it made her feel bitter. Thinking about his partner, the one he could’ve had now, or the one he would have in the future. This version of him who was perhaps competent enough to settle for something serious, was not the one who she had been with.
But still, she missed him. Both this version of him and the him from two years ago. She missed the piercings, the tattoos. The dimpled smiles and wandering touches.
How utterly had her attempts to move on failed.
But Y/N pretended. The smiles that she spread over her face, extra wide for the friends she hasn’t seen in so long. She pretended that she was alright, pretended that the burning presence of her ex boyfriend in the other corner of the room did not affect her as much as it really did.
She giggled, she gasped at news she hadn’t heard before. Hugged a close friend for some big accomplishment.
And Y/N talked. Going on and on about her two years abroad. On and on about how great it all was. The new experiences, the people she met. All the dates she’s been on. And though the workload gave her headaches and eye-strains, the view from her hostel room made everything worth it. The peaceful overview of the city, soothing her almost.
Blocking out the looming shadow that threatened to have her crumble under his stare, of course she kept that part to herself.
She could describe the details of all the fun she had, that she learned a lot. Y/N could lie. The ones that could’ve slipped out with such ease, the thought of it scared her.
Sure, she learned a lot. Learned just how much of a lovesick fool she was. Truly how hard she had fallen for Chan and how pining over him was torture. Learned that she wasn’t capable of moving on, even if a year and some seemed like enough time to do so.
Sure, she could claim she had fun, tons of it! But it was a claim that could easily be denied just like the countless dates she lied to have been on, the people she met, the places she’s been.
How those new places consisted of the unfamiliar labs and bright halls of the institution she ran back and forth from. The hostel corridors, narrow and long. That one convenience store where the cashier knew her by name from how frequently she bought snacks there.
Those places like the little cafes where she holed away to write her papers, drinking too much caffeine and straining her eyes. No Chan to remind her to take breaks. The parks, the bars she familiarized herself with. The solo-dates she could easily make sound exciting with exaggerated recollection.
Truth be told, study abroad was torture. And Y/N was nothing but miserable. Drowning in work, wallowing in sorrow. Chasing after memories that she left behind. The ghost of her ex boyfriend’s touches lingering on her skin, painting her in blue.
The evening wore on, long and painful. Friends distracting once-lovers like an Olympic-sport. Y/N should’ve felt bad for the tension in their friends’ faces, but it was already too much keeping herself from breaking into a crying mess.
“I wasn’t supposed to drink.” Chan’s voice is a deep groan, dragging his hands over his face with the realization. “I drove here.”
She doesn’t catch herself from eavesdropping, though perhaps she didn’t really want to. Having her ears perked, straining to listen to his voice. Pathetic desires to etch it into her memory before she loses it again.
Their group of friends had already started parting, a few still lingering by Chan on the other end, a few sat next to her, across from her. The lack of chatter allows her to hear his complaints.
“—Y/N did you need a ride back?” Someone asked, breaking her out of her reverie.
For a moment, Y/N thought she should say “yes”, should finally walk away. That she should continue pretending that Chan wasn’t on her mind, that he didn’t plague her thoughts, her dreams. Pretend that she wasn’t dying from curiosity, the unfair feeling of something beautiful shattering without knowing the exact reason for why.
For a moment she thought she was strong enough. That she wasn’t pathetic, still in love with her ex that groaned on the other end of the room, his skin flushed from the drinks he never really liked to consume in the first place.
She gathers her purse, Chan’s eyes flicker over to watch her murmur to her friends as they all stand. Goodbyes that aren’t directed to him echo through her lips. Her eyes don’t find him, though he could only shamelessly watch her leave, his heart beating rapidly in his throat.
He feels hot, a searing burn that doesn’t soothe even when he stands outside in the night under its cool air. One of his friends grips his shoulder as he says something about driving him back first or maybe even calling some designated driver service. Chan would have carpooled back with them, but he needed his car for early the next morning. He grumbles instead, staggering towards his car, flanked by a few other guys, all headed towards the parking lot.
Yet the chatter cuts short when they approach the vehicle, faltering before Y/N who leaned against it, arms crossed over her chest. Chan inhales sharply, the inebriated haze suddenly wiped away at her surprising presence.
Her eyes trail over his form, darting between the guys that surround him. “I’ll…drive you back.”
For a few seconds no one speaks. Chan’s brain is reeling, and he can’t do anything but stare at her taken aback.
Y/N clears her throat, straightening still. Though her arms remain crossed, defensive.
“We should talk shouldn’t we?” Her question is clearly directed at one man, the dazed one that couldn’t tear away his stare.
“We’re…uh…we’re gonna go.” The guy beside Chan announced awkwardly after a few more seconds of silence.
“It was nice seeing you Y/N.” Another adds.
She flashes the group of guys a tight smile, before her eyes settle over her ex once again. The man still silent, mind slowly catching up to the shocking presence that was her.
The men murmur a few more words of farewell, though neither Y/N nor Chan watch to see them disappear, their gazes locked between each other. As if taking in everything they have missed in the span of almost two years, everything that changed between Chan hiding from her, to Y/N running away.
The early September air was nothing special. Though the evening breeze does make her shiver, the kind of chill that has Chan’s fingers twitch, the silent urge to drape his blazer over her shoulders prick at him, yet even in his state he’s aware that he has long lost that right. To care for her wellbeing in such ways that would only hurt her further.
It’s obvious that he’s already hurt her. It flashed in her gaze the moment their eyes met in the restaurant, cracked in her voice when she asked to speak to him.
And now it stared back at him, glistening under the street lamp. Her eyes boring into his, making his heart rate pick up. The parking lot is desolate for a restaurant on a Wednesday evening, though there are a few other vehicles other than his, parked around in far corners. Yet, there isn’t another soul in sight, not that they’re paying any attention to their surroundings either.
The silence settles for a moment, stretches for a few more. Chan feels like a kid, like standing before his mother as she broke down his mediocre grades on his reportcard, his hands suddenly feel clammy, eyes shift as they dart between her pinched brows, her contemplative stare. The alcohol in his system, not helping him either.
Y/N exhales a deep breath, swallowing back once before her mouth opens.
“I’m…going to leave the city after this final semester.”
The announcement isn’t new. It’s something he had been aware of for a long time. Two years ago when he had rolled naked under her bedsheets, pouting because she wasn’t giving him any attention. Instead she pulled out her laptop, his hoodie keeping her warm amidst the winter chill. She swatted at his hands that tried to tickle her feet, grumbling about submitting the applications for some hard-to-get-into program at some hard-to-pronounce-the-name-of school. Back then he was so astonished to hear about it, crawling over to brush his mouth over hers.
“You’re so fucking smart, they have no other choice to accept you.” He had felt so proud back then, heart clenching at the sight of her whining shyling from his compliments.
Now though…
Now the reminder felt like a punch to the gut. The hollow feeling in his chest chipped the edges of a growing hole.
“Right…For grad school.” Chan’s eyes fall down to the pavement at the memory, from her words.
“You’ve always followed through with your plans.” He hums, a ghost of a smile on his lips, yet how heartbreaking the sight of it looks.
Nothing like his radiant grins, all crinkley eyes and dimpled cheeks. Her breath shudders at the sight, at the pretense of indifference. Eyes sting with tears before she’s calling his name to him after a long time.
“Chan…”
His eyes flick up to finally meet hers, his expression falling as they stare into one another, so many things to say, yet not enough words to express them. The lies about her new life, of the year and a half spent far away, of getting over him, shatter in an instance and she can’t help but ask.
Perhaps for closure, perhaps to satiate that gnawing confusion. To soothe the her that still stood rooted in the middle of her living room when he walked out for the final time.
“Can you—At least tell me why.” Her voice is just a whisper, pleading eyes boring into his. “We-we’’ll never meet again after graduation. A few months and you’ll never see me again, so please—” A step forward, shining gaze refusing to break away from his own trembling gaze.
“Tell me what I did that ruined us. You owe me that much.” She didn’t mean for her voice to shudder, for the gleam of tears to well in her gaze, but Chan had that effect on her, at least he did now when all his name and presence brought her, was heartache.
He inhaled sharply, hands clenching into fists at his side, mind reeling because he did not expect to meet her today. Did not expect to face his biggest fear on some random Wednesday.
“It wasn’t because of you, I swea—”
“It had to have been. Because what else would have scared you away?” She’s shaking, both her head, and her shoulders, trembling under the chilly night, from her emotions.
Chan doesn’t refute. She had always been perceptive, much more than him. And he had never been able to conceal his emotions much from her, which is why he had to run away after the break-up, to avoid her finding out that he shattered his own dreams that day.
But Y/N was smart. And she was right. Though it really wasn’t her fault either. He had been scared away. And he had ran, though not because of her, more so for her.
Chan gnawed at his lower lip, eyes burning perhaps from the air, from not blinking. From the tears that threatened to well in them.
The wind swept back his hair, fluttered her shirt. The silence, both ringing and quiet.
“Does it matter anymore? You’re-you’re leaving soon and you’ll begin your new life.” He spoke as if he had no excuse,
“I wasn’t enough.” She whispered.
The words are harsh, insecure. The kind of conclusions that she came up with in the months and months and months that she spent thinking about where it all went wrong. The kind of conclusion that has him deny instantly, a shout of denial spilling through his lips before he could think. He can’t help it, not when they were far from the truth.
“Not you!” His lips pursed, jaw tightening at her wary expression. “You-you were everything, Y/N.” He confessed, voice much breathier than his passionate denial.
“Then why? I’m gonna go fucking insane—”
“It’s me.” He interrupted. “It’s me who wasn’t enough.” His eyes darted between her confused ones.
“I lied. Back then.” Chan whispered.
His words settled over her chest, letting the confusion that pinched over her brows relax. A part of her that always doubted his stupid reasons back then had whispered an “I told you so” to herself, but it quickly dissipated, burned by the fury of new found betrayal, of a flash of unfairness that surfaced from his confession.
“What do you mean?” Her tone is a low murmur, a croak from the lump in her throat, the blurry haze in her eyes.
“You…you deserve so much better than me.” His stare bore into hers, a hurt flashing in them, insecurity colored all over his demeanor.
“That negative test opened my eyes.”
“Did…did you wish it were positive?” Her tone is suddenly hesitant, a tinge of shock laced in her tone.
Her question has him flinching, something that does not escape her. It makes him sniffle, hands tremble.
“For a moment, I had a vision… a stupid, idiotic vision of you and a baby that was ours. It was so dumb yet, for a moment my heart fluttered at the thought and—” His voice stuttered, a sob swallowed down.
“Before I could even let it settle, your doubts, your fears smothered it in an instant. My stupid, dumb…beautiful vision.” Chan could reimagine that moment, the way his heart beat rapidly in the middle of her bathroom, reimagine the moment where their world shattered into nothing but blue.
Her ex boyfriend’s eyes found hers again, skin tingling, buzzing with heat from things he stowed away deep within. The alcohol in his system, burning out the truth.
“You were scared. Of course you were, I was too. Yet…yet the breath of relief that you let out, the look in your eyes that I saw in the mirror that night when the test came out negative, was eye-opening.” His voice croaked.
Her tear-stricken face, eyes wide with surprise as she stared at the results of three different tests. A shaky exhale and an all-too-relieved smile tugged at her lips that night. “Thank god.” She had sighed to herself.
“For a second I thought that you were relieved that you weren’t pregnant by me. Me, who was nowhere near the kind of guy you pictured yourself to end up with. That you were glad that something so permanent would not keep you tied to a loser like me.” He couldn’t help but let his lips tug into a pitiful smile, perhaps pitying himself, at the him from two years ago that still stood rooted in the middle of her bathroom.
She inhaled sharply, a shudder in the sound that expressed her utter surprise. Form stiff, mouth parted with a silent gasp. Yet Chan continued, letting out the thoughts that had pressed over him for much too long. Uncontainable now that he allowed it all to break free.
“You had your life planned out. The next steps, grad school, internships. You-you had everything mapped out for yourself. How would a baby have fit into that? How would I—“ His voice wavered with emotion again, the tears that had long welled in his eyes, let loose to trail down his cheeks.
“How would I have fit into it all? Truly?”
Y/N had surprisingly never thought that this could have been amongst all the reasons she came up with the months and months and months spent drowning in blue. The mystery was solved so easily, the revelation of such a miniscule, though petrifying, moment in their relationship had been the catalyst of two years of pain.
“Are…Are you serious?” The words escaped her with disbelief, though she tried best not to let the surprised fury slip out in a scoff.
“I would’ve never fit in in your life Y/N. I don’t fit into your life!” He argued, face scrunching up with emotion.
“Your-your parents are fucking neurosurgeons, your brother works in space sciences. I felt so out of place—suffocated every time I stood under their gazes. Unworthy. You deserved someone b-better, someone who understands whatever the fuck you ramble about excitedly without having to break it down for him. Someone who wasn’t me!” He cried, swiping harshly at the tears that now pooled at his jaw with the back of his hand.
Y/N wasn’t sure if she was trembling from the sadness that washed over her, or the fury that his words brought. Still, she found herself frowning, her tear-stricken expression hardening with an anger she couldn’t describe. A bitterness that tasted of both sorrow and irritation.
“You’ve been part of all those plans, Chan!” She shouted, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes wide with anger perhaps, with disbelief.
“The moment we met—“ Her breath shuddered, tone dropping with a sob, face crumpling instantly with more tears, a sound that shattered the heart of the man standing before her.
“The moment you asked me to be yours, when you kissed me and painted me dreams of a perfect life I didn’t think I could see, that I can breathe under the pressures of my own life, my own stupid goals. You were part of those plans. The fucking four years, the ten years. My-my lifetime plan.” Her voice had fallen to a sobbing cry, tears unbidden in her eyes.
Y/N sniffled, eyes narrowing again, blinking away the tears that continued to blur her vision. Determined to spew out everything now that so many emotions coursed through her.
“Sure, a baby back then wouldn’t have been something we even thought of, but we would’ve had choices. Made together. And if we did end up getting pregnant and keeping a baby, we would have made it work. I know we would have. I’m not some delicate little girl who would crumble under the pressures of juggling a child, a relationship, my studies and aspirations together.” She argued.
“You would have had to make sacrifices. Your study abroad program, grad school choices. You would have resented me.” Chan shook his head in denial.
“But none of that happened!” The ex girlfriend screamed almost, frustration spilling through with more tears.
“You-you ran away because of hypothetics, that was what happened.” Y/N watched his eyes grow big from her words, faltering in spot as their reality came crashing back to him.
“You didn’t trust me enough to listen to your fears and insecurities, trust me enough to believe when I would have told you that it didn’t matter that your not some future fucking rocket scientist. I would have told you that you grounded me more than anything. That learning about your dreams and ambitions as much as showing you my world was a part of my dream life. No, you just-just left.” She cried.
Their heads were pounding from the crying, the shouting. Both of their faces were wet, cheeks stricken with tears, eyes glistening with the sorrow that came two years too late. The silence is deafening, yet oh-so-heartbreaking at once.
Bahng Chan took in all her words. Her cries, her tears. The hurt in her expression as she spilled out everything that she had kept bottled up for the past almost two years. His lips parted, yet words suddenly evaded him.
He had thought he was doing the right thing. Moving out of the way of her dreams, the ones she had drawn long before she ever met him. The excited breakdowns of them still ring in his ears as he recalls the better moments of their relationship.
He thought she would meet a good man who matched well with her. One who was in the same career field. Who would understand whatever complicated scientific stuff she talked about. Adding in their own two cents instead of listening like a fool and asking questions like a child. A guy who could give her the life she had wanted according to her rough romantic timeline. Marriage at thirty, a dog, a kid some years after.
But it seemed he did nothing but hurt her. Hurt himself. Taking away the timeline with him when he walked out the door.
The past year and some had been nothing but torture. Nothing but his own dreams tormenting him because they always had her in them.
“I…I’m sorry.” He finally whispered.
The night breeze felt chillier, pricking flesh. The silence between them rang, piercing, tense. Uncomfortable, yet neither moved. Neither did anything to soothe the feeling, the hurt that brimmed beneath them as they stared at each other. Tear-stricken, red eyes, flushed cheeks.
Pounding hearts and bleary gazes that could only take each other in, the most vulnerable versions of each other they have ever seen. Almost two years of wasted time, wasted tears and too much blue. Two years of yearning, longing, for something that once-was, when what once-was had always been it seems.
“Do you still love me, Chan?” Y/N finally, finally whispered, her glistening gaze bore into his.
A question that has his breath hitch, yet there wasn’t a single second of hesitance in the answer that spilled through his lips.
“I love you. Still.”
Y/N’s expression instantly crumbled, contorting into a grimace with her next sob. Her shoulder shook at every cry, hands pressing over her eyes.
“I f-fucking hate you.” Her voice is muffled, her words are harsh.
Yet how easily does she melt into the arms that pull her into his embrace. Painfully familiar warmth that she missed. One hand cupping the back of her head, the other grasping over her form tightly as Chan tugs her into his chest. Shaking shoulders, sobs uncontained, he squeezes her close.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m s-sorry.” He cried into the crevice of her neck.
“You’re an idiot Bahng Chan! I hate you.” She continued between her frustrated tears, only to pul him closer, hands fisting his stupid blazer tightly, face burrowing into his chest.
“I love you. I love you. I love—” His words are a raspy-whisper, yet ring in her ears.
Y/N sniffled, pulling away just enough to let her eye trail over his equally wrecked expression, his eyes stinging red and-too wet. She leaned back into him, just enough to kiss him. Her lips find his without much effort. Body still remembering how to do so, seared into memory.
The kind of kiss he easily gives into, sighs into, returning it like it’s the end of the world. The kind that shows her just how sorry he was, how much he had missed her. Her pointed stares, her breathy laughs. The way her brows creased together when she’s concentrating on homework.
A kiss that’s all tongue and heat. A pull and tug that leaves no room for the night’s chill. One that tastes a little like the beer he hates. Like salty tears, and spearmint gum.
One that tastes like home.
────────────────────────
“—And what do you feel when you think about him now?”
“Hmmm…incomplete?” Y/N’s words seem to surprise both Bahng Chan who sat next to her, and the journalism student that sat across them in the small cafe table they found themselves in.
The two were being interviewed for a new social column in their once-university’s newspaper. One that was apparently reporting on campus couples. At least that was what Chan had explained when he told her that he got an email for the new section that brought such love stories through the Campus Chronicles. Though, neither had been big readers of the paper when they actually went to the school. But Chan supposedly owed a favor to some guy and they found themselves being interviewed as the next couple featured.
“‘Incomplete’? Do explain.” The student across them encouraged, his fingers working against the keyboard of his laptop in a frenzy.
Suddenly she felt nervous, Chan’s fond stare boring into the side of her head, his fingers warm over hers against the tabletop.
“We’ve been inseparable since then. And my days feel so…plain and blue without him. So, I guess it makes sense that I can’t really picture a day without him being annoying next to me.” She muttered, pushing at her glasses.
“She’s actually joking about the annoying part, you don’t have to write that down.” Chan added with a scoff, though his expression only wore amusement.
The younger journalist chuckled as he typed. Y/N took the final sip of her coffee, while Chan tapped at his long-since empty teacup.
“Thanks again for agreeing to tell us about your journey.” The man across added, seemingly finishing up his typing, to which Chan smiled.
“Of course, thank you for thinking of us. Your editor-in-chief was actually a good junior of mine. He pleaded we take a part of this.” His grin was all dimples.
“But is it actually okay for us to be featured in the Chronicles when it’s been so long since we graduated?” Y/N added, brows furrowing with a little confusion.
The younger man nodded enthusiastically, swallowing down his own last sip of coffee. The cup clacking against the table.
“We enjoy the stories of our Alumns as much as the current students, it would be rather refreshing to read.” He answered before his eyes darted between them with a teasing smile.
“Besides, you two are quite a big topic around here. Even I heard about your relationship, and I started a semester after you graduated.”
Which could have been true, seeing as that night they talked in the parking lot, kissed in the parking lot, their friends had hollered loudly, blinding them with the headlights of their car. Apparently they hadn’t left, worried about the two. Worried that a half-tipsy Chan and a clearly-still-begruding Y/N left together could go one of two ways. Luckily it went the way that made them rumbustious, a hooting group that probably spread the word like some dramatic romantic movie retelling.
“Oh god.” Chan groaned with a breathy chuckle, flustered now.
“Our school has always been big on gossip. And this guy being a once-campus-social-butterfly did not help at all.” Y/N nudged Chan as she rolled her eyes, though the smile on her lips was wide.
“We’re about done here before the couple-photo shot, but why don’t you give us a final word about your relationship now? How are you two, almost three years after reconciling?” The man asked, gesturing back to his photographer quickly before his fingers were once again on his keyboard.
“Hmmm…we’ve definitely grown. Especially in the communication department.” Chan’s laugh was lighthearted, the kind that tugged at Y/N’s heartstrings.
“And how about the next plans?” The words earned some amused laughter between them.
“Nothing special really, we’re busy getting our lives started. Focusing on my PhD, he’s aiming for a promotion at work. Otherwise, we’re…taking it slow.” She explained, lips settled into a gentle smile.
Chan’s eyes flickered over to her, head tilting slightly. “Slow?”
Y/N’s grin widened, sweet-like as she nodded. “Yup.” She confirmed.
He doesn’t question her, humming along as he faces the interviewer again. “Right, what she said. Slow.”
“—Since when have we been ‘taking it slow’?” Chan’s brow arches as he zips his sweater, the two of them walking down the sidewalk, turning the corner from the cafe after leaving behind the newspaper crew.
“The entire student body seemed to know our business, thought I’d throw everyone off a little. Keep it a little mysterious” She muttered with an all-too-pleased smile, fingers raking into her hairs.
The engagement ring glimmered under the light, Chan’s eyes flickering from it back to her cheeky expression.
“You’re a menace.” He snickered, tugging at her other hand to entangle it with his own. “Let’s get back in time to meet the real estate guy.” He added, stuffing their joined hands into his sweater-pocket.
“This next apartment better have the space for my textbooks.” She groaned to which Chan chuckled as they reached their car.
“I think we have to worry about a nursery first.” His tone was playful, free hand opening the passenger-side of the car doors and rounding her behind it.
“Those books are my babies too!” Y/N shot him a glare, watching the man before her only break out into a dimpled grin, his eyes gleaming with affection.
“Get in the car, nerd.” Chan’s finger pushed back her glasses before he booped her nose, fondness in his tone.
And he doesn’t wait to hear her grumbling in return, nudging her inside before he closes the door behind her with an all-too-pleased giggle. Almost rushing to the driver’s side, more than ready to get them home.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
e n d .
SEO CHANGBIN x READER
GENRE: Boyfriend!Changbin, Established Relationship, Fluff
WARNINGS: mentions of feet lol, suggestive, somewhat proofread
WC: 2.0k
A/N: this idea has been plaguing my mind for days now and I’m so glad I was finally able to write it down. I hope you enjoy this quick, but cute read!
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
── MASTERLIST
────────────────────────
How to tell your boyfriend that the gorgeous most beautiful pair of shoes that he gifted you for your birthday were killing your feet.
You’re grimacing with every step and he’s oblivious.
He looked so excited to see you wear them out on your date tonight too :(
Okay, it was probably all your fault that you landed yourself in this predicament.
Finding yourself smiling through the stinging and throbbing pain of standing on your feet while swaying to the music. Tucked into the warmth of Changbin’s arms in some bar you two ended up in after dinner. The live band wasn’t as upbeat as the bass boosted music you’d hear in some nightclub, a mix of jazz and mellow rock, but it was perfect for lovers like you and the few other couples that littered across the small dance floor.
Part of it was enjoyable of course, like his touch, his nose grazing alongside the skin of your throat. A smile pressed onto you so close. And you’d do anything to keep him smiling all giddy in front of you.
If it weren’t for these damn heels, you probably would have enjoyed it even more, even better.
He said you looked so pretty in them, that they sparkled with every step you took and he was glad he caught onto your hints and made the purchase.
They were truly cute, a gorgeous pair that you had discovered weeks ago because your friend had a pair from the same brand. And after scouring the shop website for something that fit your style, you bookmarked it, screenshotted and even saved the link.
Thumb always hovering over the shopping cart icon.
Now, you’re not the type to be picky about prices, nor do you like to splurge on things on the whim. You do believe in treating yourself every now and then, but you’d already bought that really pricey necklace a month ago and it made no sense to throw more money away so quickly. You’re rational, the budgeting kind who thinks way too much about such ways. Changbin thinks otherwise, but adores that about you in the same breath.
And thinking about your boyfriend, the idea comes easily.
A birthday gift! Though, planned out by yourself, which isn’t unheard of and you’re sure your boyfriend knows you well enough to give you something you’ll like anyway, but he’d asked for a few things you might want a few weeks ago just in case. And even if you knew he was planning on taking you out and making it all a big deal, you decided and started dropping hints before you turn to almost shoving your phone in his face with the sweetest smile.
“Aren’t these so cute?”
He blinked, taken aback before his gaze focused on the bright screen. A squint, a hum and he nods in agreement, not thinking much of it.
Then you begin to murmur aloud “My birthday’s coming up.”
You feel him falter against his own typing on his phone, head tilting the slightest to meet your gaze.
You smile wide, lean in and press your mouth against his jaw for a kiss before sighing and walking away.
Later you find him squatting before the shoe rack, taking pictures of the sizes of your other shoes, not subtle enough, though he also wasn’t aware that you were spying like some loser either. You said you were going to take a shower, what a liar you were.
Now though…
As you two make your way back out into the night, you fail to bite back, and you whimper. You couldn’t help it. You’ve been swallowing back the painful noises all night and finally it seemed that your feet had enough.
You stop walking and so does Changbin, head snapping in your direction.
Your eyes grow big instantly with a silent gasp, watching him furrow his brows, concerned expression painting his face. His gaze darts over you, ensuring he wasn’t hurting you somehow with his fingers gripped in yours, before trying to figure out what had made you make such a noise. What had your brows pinch like that.
Yet before you get to say anything, to pretend it wasn’t a noise of hurt, his eyes finally, finally, flicker down at your feet. At the shoes.
You can almost see the gears shifting in his mind, the way his stare narrowed, pinned at your heels.
“Do-do they hurt?” It’s as if he had a sudden clarity, eyes wide as he gasps.
You attempt to take a step closer, faltering just the slightest from the sting. “No-no-I’m—”
“You’re limping!” He exclaims with the same shock that settled over him.
He’s baffled he didn’t notice, shocked that he thought you were walking slower to savor the night, not because you actually couldn’t walk properly.
His hands grasp at your arms, firm and gentle before he leads you slowly to a bus stop bench just a few extra steps ahead. Thank god.
“You can barely stand straight. Here—“ He doesn’t wait to listen to your retorts, crouching down right there on the pavement to lift one foot over his bent knee, and begins to remove the shoe.
You can’t help but silently exhale an instant sigh of relief, the cool air soothing the sting, while he hisses below, the sight of your blistered and raw skin making him frown.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
His eyes are big, puppy-dog like, glimmering with sympathetic sorrow when he looks up at you.
It makes your heart clench and flutter all at once.
How could you tell him that you didn’t have the strength to watch his excited smile fall? That the sight of him now, sad and on his knees was exactly what you wanted to avoid.
His fingers are warm against your skin, dropping the shoe, the heel clanking against the ground, as if it had personally offended him—though perhaps it had in this moment, before moving to your other foot. This one was less blister-swollen, the skin not as irritated though it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt either.
“You can’t put up with something just because you think I’d be offended. That makes me think I failed somewhere and you don’t trust me enough to express your discomforts.” He mumbles, thumb absentmindedly caressing over the skin of your ankles, to soothe, to reassure.
It’s as if he read your thoughts, easily guessing the reason behind your silence—at least a part of it. He truly did know you so well.
You’re quick to lean forward, your hands clutch his shoulders, head shaking in denial almost vehemently.
“No. No, I’m-I’m sorry, it’s not anything of that sort, I promise.” Your hand finds his jaw, nudging softly to tilt his head back, your eyes locking over his furrowed gaze.
“At first I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, I’ve been feeding you the idea for weeks now.” You let out an airy breath of regretful laughter.
“Then you seemed so so excited and I was too initially, before I tried them on and they hurt.”
He frowned, but you’re quick to tighten your hold on him, fingers tugging softly at his earlobe.
“I thought I just have to break them in and they’ll be fine. But obviously…” You trail off with a huff.
You lean in closer, lips brushing over his forehead, wearong the prettiest smile on your lips in hope to placate him.
“It’s okay. I felt pretty in them, I enjoyed receiving them.” You continue until he inhales deeply.
“If you say so.” He muttered with a huff before his gaze cuts sharp over the forgotten pair of shoes.
“But you will not be wearing them any longer tonight.” He is resolute.
“You want me to walk home barefeet?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, amusement lighting up in your expression.
“I could carry you?” He offered, though with the way you make a face, it’s clear that you’d rather not do that for the next few blocks.
The one time he thought a romantic stroll was a great idea.
“Okay fine, I won’t carry you.” He grumbled, head darting left and right, eyes squinting in the direction of the Main road.
“Hmm, wait here. Five minutes. I’ll be right back.” He promised, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your mouth before he’s standing, towering over you.
You nod and he draped his jacket over you, his eyes flickering down at your bare feet hovering over the ground for a second before he departed. You wave as he glanced back, jogging ahead.
It’s quite late, and you’re not sure what he had in mind, but you’ll be good and wait here. Hissing again, you cross one leg over your other knee to see the damage. You can already imagine the soreness you’ll wake up with in the morning, probably a little more intense than the throbbing sensation you’re feeling now.
You’re sagging against the bench, letting out a deep breath and pulling his jacket tighter around you, trying to keep your mind off of the hot, pulsing sensation of your wounded feet.
And surely enough, five or so minutes later, you’re perking up at the sight of your boyfriend’s return.
“Sorry, I took so long.” He’s breathing a little heavy, your eyes snapping up to him approaching with quick steps. “They were about to close.”
You’re surprised he found some sort of convenience store around here, the plastic bag crinkling as he pulls out a pair of rubber slippers. They’re nothing special, but anything is better than the heels that left you with battle wounds.
There are more items colliding against each other in the bag as he once again crouches to his knees, fingers wrapping around one ankle after the other again to administer some sort of first-aid. The ointment easily soothes the blisters and reddened flesh.
“They didn’t have much. Or I probably wasn’t looking in the right direction.” He chuckled as he rubbed gently.
You can’t help the flutter in your chest, the fondness in your smile as you reach forward to brush away the hairs that fall over his concentrated eyes.
“I love you. Thank you.” Your voice was a soft murmur, touched.
“Anything for you.” He hummed, returning the tug of lips. “I love you.”
The bandaids go one easily, though you can’t help but laugh at the Pororo cartoon characters that decorate them, clearly meant for children but you know your boyfriend thought they were cute and would look even cuter on you, not that he liked you injured of course.
“Can you walk?” He’s helping you shuffle into the slippers, haphazardly shoving the damn heels into the plastic bag.
“Maybe I should just carry you? It’s just another couple more—”
“It’s fine, babe. Just—” Your arm wraps around his bicep, clutching tightly.
“Just hold me and let’s enjoy a really slow stroll.”
He sighed as he nodded, lips thinning with a smile. “Okay.”
“Maybe I should’ve gone with the other gift. Though it would’ve probably been more of a gift for me than you.” He voiced after a few minutes of slow trudging.
“What’d you have in mind?” You quirk a brow.
“Lingerie.” He mutters, grinning widely now that you’re visibly less in pain.
You sputter at that for a second before huffing a laugh. “Probably would’ve hurt less.”
“You say that as if you don’t complain about soreness the morning after either way—”
“Changbin!” You gasp, scandalized, head darting around the empty surroundings as if someone would’ve overheard.
He cackled, tugging you into him, his lips brushing the side of your face.
“You’re adorable. Though I prefer you limping for other reasons.”
He laughs yet again when you gasp louder, hand swiping at him with a slap against his chest, not even fazed by your glare.
“You’re so shameless.” You scoff.
Your boyfriend giggles as he nudges into you, easily wiping away the bafflement and eye rolls to garner that sweet smile he loves.
YANG JEONGIN x READER
GENRE: Boyfriend!Jeongin, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff
WARNINGS: mentions of cursing, somewhat proofread
WC: 1k
A/N: really wanted to write something for Vday, and this came together last minute (literally like an hour ago) I hope you enjoy it and please ignore any mistakes lol
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
── MASTERLIST
────────────────────────༅
So lover’s day is a week away, and Jeongin’s still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine.
You’ve dropped hints. Plenty of them. From the subtle ones of a reminder of the day, to a story about your friend who’s own partner had surprised them with a gift basket at work.
You even resorted to straight up asking him.
“Why haven’t you asked me to be your valentine?” Huffing in irritation with your arms crossed over your chest.
Jeongin stopped, mid-massive-bite of his sandwich, blinking up at your towering form across the coffee table.
“—Huh?” He quirked a brow, chewing slowly as he processed the words.
“Why would I ask you to be my valentine, I’m your boyfriend?” He retorted.
Not the right answer. Seeing as your brows furrowed even deeper and your frown was not going to soothe anytime soon.
“You have to ask!” You argued. “Even if you’re my boyfriend—that-that doesn’t automatically make you my valentine.” Your tone dripped with frustration.
Now it was Jeongin’s turn to blink, bewildered.
“Who the heck would your valentine be if not me?!”
You didn’t have the answer to that, but your frown was still ever-present.
“Asking me to be your valentine, means you’re planning a date for the day and it makes me happy.” You muttered.
Your boyfriend sighed. Putting down his sandwich, which he was enjoying until you cornered him.
“Fine. Will you be my valentine?” He asked.
God did you want to throttle him.
“No!” You almost spat. “You’re just asking now because I told you to—and you don’t really mean it.”
He would have thought you looked cute almost pouting but now was not the moment.
“Baby—“ He tries to placate but obviously you stomp away, leaving him a pile of groaning mess.
Jeongin tried, but now a gift-basket seemed too bare-minimum. Flowers and a note to your job, too cliche. He couldn’t show up at your door step with a giant card because that seemed too childish, and asking through text would perhaps leave him single.
He needed a plan. He asked his friends, who by the way, were traitors, all of them, for not notifying him about the unspoken rules of being a boyfriend during this time of the year. How the hell was he supposed to know? This was his first serious relationship and he was already ruining it.
Chan could’ve told him about his method of asking his girlfriend, something about a picnic during sunset. Hyunjin apparently painted his partner like a French girl.
Fuck even Seungmin asked in a Ferris wheel. Where the hell were they getting these ideas from and why wasn’t anyone telling him.
“You’re clearly overthinking it.” Says Felix, the man who baked his partner a two-tier cake.
Jeongin groaned, it’s been a day since he argued with you and he has at least five more to fix it. Though he worries that the last-minute planning would hurt you more.
Since when did Valentine’s Day get so complicated?
“I’m so glad I’m single.” Jisung brags, though is it really a brag?
Clearly not, seeing as Minho shoots him a pitiful look, but keeps the teasing to himself for once. Not the right mood.
“Why not go out to dinner. Ask over dessert? Keep it simple?” Changbin suggests.
And glancing around the room, Jeongin debated whether he should take pointers from each of their own methods of asking, but maybe Changbin was right, neither you nor Jeongin were big fans of grandiose dates.
But he wonders if you’ll show up. You hadn’t responded to his messages when he asked you to meet him at a restaurant. He keeps the nervousness to himself while getting ready. He even wore a tie.
Then his doorbell rings and he’s furrowing his brows in confusion, not expecting anything or anyone to visit.
The door swings open to a giant stuffed fox, holding roses. Both clutched in your arms. You’re so pretty even as you wore the sheepish expression that screamed of awkwardness.
You cleared your throat.
“I thought about it. A lot. And I realized I wasn’t being fair.” You start, seeing as your boyfriend can’t do anything but stay rooted in spot and stare.
“So I’m going to be the one to ask. Will you be my Valentine?—”
Jeongin doesn’t let your question settle, doesn’t let you catch your breath. Not when he’s kissing you, sighing into your mouth with affection as he lets all the anxiety and nervousness leave his body.
“You’re squeezing FoxINy and his flowers.” You giggle against his mouth, panting slightly to catch your breath as he pulls away, though his arms don’t unwrap from your hips
“FoxINy?” He chuckles as he stares down at the plushie.
“He looks like you doesn’t he?” You’re so freaking cute he could eat you.
But he doesn’t of course, not when he has a candle-light dinner waiting for you. Practice for the one he’ll take you on actual Valentine’s Day.
“Let’s tuck him in and head out, I still need to put on my blazer—”
“Oh!” You squeak, excited, tugging at his tie. “So fancy.”
Jeongin hums against you, guiding you inside for a moment before the two of you are giggling on your way down his building, close and cornered in the elevator.
“I’m sorry about the other day.” You whisper against him.
Jeongin shakes his head, water-under-the-bridge.
“A setback.” He murmurs. “But next year...” He trails off with a smirk, a brow arched.
Cementing the excitement that he planted in your chest. Next year he will definitely have you swooning, an unspoken promise.
“I can’t wait.” You laugh, leaning into him and pressing your lips against his.
The elevator rings to a stop, doors sliding open, though neither of you budge, shamelessly kissing in the corner of the steel box.
