If my future doesn’t have a Bang Chan In it, change it please 🙏🏼
pairing — idolbf!bangchan x f!reader
word count — drabble ∼900 words
warnings — she/her reader, fluff!!
summary — In a surprise visit to Bang Chan's studio, you accidentally appeared on his Instagram livestream. Bang Chan tries his best not show that you're there but obviously he's too whipped for you.
You scanned your keycard and unlocked the main door to JYP Entertainment. You made your way into the elevator as it hummed and moved upward. When the doors opened, you walked down the hallway, stopping at Bang Chan's studio.
Right after you knocked, the door swung open, revealing Bang Chan's surprised expression. He immediately gestured towards the camera, telling you he was doing an Instagram livestream. It was clear that you had caught him off guard, unintentionally making an appearance.
As Bang Chan regained his composure, he sat back down and quickly addressed the online audience, "Hey everyone, it was just Changbin popping in for a quick chat." A playful and knowing smile accompanied his words, aimed at reassuring his fans.
Silently, you moved towards a seat beside Bang Chan's desk, carefully choosing a spot that remained out of view from the camera. Chan subtly shifted his chair forward, edging closer to the desk as you exchanged a rapid glance. He slipped his hand discreetly under the table, extending his arm to rest his hand on your leg.
As Bang Chan continued engaging with the fans during the livestream, he occasionally turned his gaze towards you, allowing it to linger for a few moments. A warm, genuine smile accompanied this glance.
You joined the livestream to witness the interaction from the fans' perspective and look at comments. Looking at them made your eyes light up. Some were quick to notice Bang Chan's glances and smiles.
"He keeps looking off to the side. Who's there?""Is there someone with Bang Chan?""Bang Chan, is there a surprise guest with you today?""The way he smiles and looks to the side... there's definitely something going on"
It was clear that the audience was observant and deeply invested in Bang Chan's livestream. Meanwhile, Bang Chan thought he maintained the mystery.
Your eyes flickered up to Bang Chan, who looked back at you confused, likely because you seemed nervous. You gave him a reminder for him to be discreet and not draw attention to you.
"Stop being so obvious" you mouthed silently.
He couldn't get the message, so he leaned forward, asking with a loud "Huh?" which made you facepalm at his stupidity. Meanwhile, Bang Chan, realizing what he had done, jumped in shock at his loud response.
"The staff is being silly," Bang Chan chuckled, quickly coming up with a cover to explain what had happened. He hoped that his laughter reassured the fans that everything was under control and that it was just a playful misunderstanding.
To avoid any more mistakes, Bang Chan pretended to check the time. "I think we'll wrap up for today," he announced with a friendly tone. "It was nice having an evening live with you guys! Bye bye!" He clicked his phone and ended the livestream, giving the Stays a cheerful send-off.
Bang Chan quickly shifted his attention towards you and buried his face in your lap, pretending to cry and yelled, "I'm so stupid." while he rubbed his face into your legs.
"You really are!" you laughed and ruffled his curly hair. "Next time you're doing this, let me know so I don't accidentally interrupt. I checked the comments and did you have any clue that they were suspecting something?"
Bang Chan looked up with his mouth wide open and responded, "I had a feeling they would've be curious, but I didn't expect it to become a game of 'guess who' during the livestream!" He wrapped his arms around you, showing a pout. "I'm so going to get fired," he exaggerated.
You chuckled and reassured him, "You're fine, Chan. You handled it like a pro"
"Did I, though?" He lifted an eyebrow, and you looked away from him.
"Yes, now let's go home. Get your stuff ready," you said to change the subject.
As you spoke, Bang Chan sat up, still wearing a mock expression of distress. "Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically, standing up and collecting his things. "But you owe me for saving the day!"
You both exited the studio, making your way through the hallway and back towards the elevator. Bang Chan continued to playfully grumble about the unexpected turn of events, but there was a lightness in his demeanor, and it was clear he found the whole situation amusing.
As you waited for the elevator, Bang Chan leaned in and whispered, "You know, I could get used to surprise visits during livestreams. It adds a bit of excitement, don't you think?"
You chuckled and shook your head, "Let's not make a habit out of it. We don't want fans thinking about it every time you go live."
The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside. Bang Chan pressed the button for the ground floor, and as the doors closed, he grinned. "Fair enough. But it was kind of fun, wasn't it?"
"So now, you think it was fun. What happened to getting fired?" you replied, playfully which made him zip his mouth.
The elevator descended, and you soon found yourselves back in the lobby of JYP Entertainment. You exchanged goodbyes with a wave to the security staff, and you stepped out onto the bustling streets of Seoul. You found your car and went into a driver's seat. Chan hopped in as you turned on the engine.
Chan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "Home, sweet home!" he exclaimed as you chuckled and drove away from JYP Entertainment.
I need a Hanji in my life 😭😭
love collection
genre: hurt? comfort?
pairing: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (intp)
warnings: descriptions of anxiety and of a panic attack
wc +2.6
notes: if this looks familiar, my secondary blog 'zerothreetwentyfive ' was deleted by tumblr (idk why) so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog. requested by @pcchacoseung
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
sometimes, you wonder why you decided to work and be a university student at the same time, that is until you remember the money that goes into tuition fees and the fact that you needed to move out in order to attend school. you're privileged enough that your parents are able to help pay your tuition whilst you pay for your rent and the other necessities you need to live in the city but that doesn't lessen the amount of stress that plagues you on and off again throughout the semesters. especially at the end of the year when exams are creeping up on you, figuring out how to move your schedule around to accommodate studying, working and finding the time to take a breather and relax; the latter option is usually dropped from the equation.
when you aren't on campus or at work, you've locked yourself up in your room. sitting behind your desk and stuck to your laptop, your textbooks and notebooks sprawled and spread over the surface, multiple pens around the area. sometimes you lose all sense of time when you're so hyper-focused on the task at hand that you only get a couple hours of sleep before you rush to get ready for work. you're done work when the sun goes down and once you get home you're back behind your desk, working till the sun comes up. the routine only repeats whether you like it or not.
jisung has been pretty busy as well. behind-the-scenes work with writing, producing and directing songs that may or may not end up on the next album, attending schedules and practicing day in and day out. it's been a while since you've been able to see each other, the both of you exchanging a few texts here and there.
j.one<3: i miss you baby i wrote some lyrics today thinking about you
you: i miss you too :,) a lot, a lot a lot
j.one<3: how have you been love? school and all?
you: it's been good
whenever he asked how you were doing, you'd always tell him that things were going fine, that it's okay, that you've got everything under control; acting like everything is a hundred and ten percent fine and dandy and you aren't on the verge of a breakdown every couple of hours. you didn't want him to worry about you. you didn't want to add to jisung's own current struggles, not wanting to burden him with your own.
j.one<3: hmm ok love you know i'm here right whenever you need me
you: of course and i love you for that
j.one<3: i love you more you got this, i believe in you baby
after your short text conversations, you'd turn on 'do not disturb' mode and a little message would pop up on jisung's side that you've switched it on.
j's one and only has their notifications silenced
a little signal for both you and him to get back to work.
…
j.one<;3: hey love i'm gonna be in the studio all day working you wanna come by and do your work here too?
and that's how you ended up sitting on the couch inside the studio. your laptop rests on your thighs, two browser windows opened up alongside each other on the screen with a notebook and pen sitting next to you. across the room, jisung sits at the recording desk in front of the computer with the program opened up on the screen, a headset over his ears and a notebook sitting in front of him, twiddling a pencil between his fingers.
although, the longer you're seated inside the studio, with your laptop displaying your calendar on one side and schedule on the other; showing off tasks that need to be finished today whilst the other side shows off the tasks and events coming up in the week.
the more you're convinced that you're going to have a mental breakdown with each passing minute.
you thought that maybe, just maybe, being in the same room as jisung would help as motivation, as comfort. having your person in the same room might hold you back from taking cover inside a hole, alone, curled up into a ball and ignoring the stresses life's currently throwing at you.
but instead, as the time passes you feel deep envy growing for your boyfriend who is seated at the recording desk. you find yourself envying the way jisung is twirling his pencil, bopping his head to whatever track is playing through the headset and the way he is able to—unlike you—focus on the tasks at hand.
how were you supposed to focus on anything when your mind continues to relentlessly remind you of all the work that needs to be done today? that you'll wake up tomorrow, only to repeat the process of slaving to get the work done.
how could you even try to focus when that tightening sensation in your chest, the one that restricts your airflow, only gets worse as the time passes?
you couldn't—you can't and you hate it.
you absolutely hate how you feel right now.
how you're mentally and emotionally trying to calm yourself down. trying to talk yourself back onto the ground and out of your frantic mind to breathe.
your heart's racing, the pulse only picks up as the time passes. it beats so loudly you can't seem to hear anything other than your own heartbeat, your hearing completely zeroed in on it.
your chest not only feels heavy but it starts to hurt, a throbbing sensation begins to come and go. it's like there is someone sitting on your chest and no matter how hard you try to get them off, you just can't. the harder you struggle, the more you feel suffocated, as if the air inside this vast recording studio only occupied by you and jisung is being sucked out, the walls closing in on you.
that painful feeling of your breath caught in your throat only leads to your heart rate picking up double time, your body feels restless while your mind repeats the same shit over and over again. the angel on one shoulder tries to calm you down, telling you to take a breather, take a break but the devil on the other only talks over her. overpowering her completely, as she reminds you that you aren't deserving of a break or a breather right now; seeing as you haven't completed any significant amount of work since entering the studio.
unbeknownst to you, your body trembles as your hands come together in front of you, fingers fiddling and picking at the skin on the opposite hand.
y/n, you think to yourself, come on, pull on your big girl panties and get on with it.
you're distracted trying to calm yourself down.
trying to bring yourself back down to earth instead of currently being inside your own head, you feel like you've lost any semblance of control you once had. god, you hate this feeling, you absolutely loathe how your heart quickly palpitates beneath your heavy chest, gradually getting dizzy as your restlessness only builds. however, no matter how anxious you feel, your body is nailed to the couch—you're frozen and unable to will yourself to get up on your feet.
it's like everything around you is speeding up and leaving you behind. they're leaving you behind in a state where your self-control slips away and causes your fear to grow tenfold.
you're scared. you're terrified that you won't come down from this— that you don't know how to come down from this, how to regulate everything inside you. the dread slowly sinks in as you slowly convince yourself that you will never be free from this state of overwhelming emotion that consumes you as the minutes pass.
jisung's hands move to adjust the headset, moving one cup away from his ear as the track has finished playing a moment ago. initially, he wanted to note something down in the notebook in front of him but the moment that one cup is off, he completely removes the headset and places it down in front of him on the desk. for a moment, he stills, listening to the room:
the echos of you clicking around on your laptop isn't heard.
this leads jisung to wonder if you've dozed off in the middle of working prompting him to spin around in the rolling chair, only to be met with you sitting on the couch wide awake.
when his brown eyes are laid on your figure, jisung's heart drops at the sight; you gnawing at your bottom lip, your chest trembling as it heaves, your whole face is flushed and your eyes are the slightest bit blown.
jisung immediately knows what's going on, he knows it all too well.
your boyfriend rushes to his feet and towards you, shutting your laptop and moving it on the couch beside you. slowly, jisung is kneeling in front of you as he gently encapsulates your hands in his.
he can feel the way your body trembles beneath his touch.
"y/n, baby, my love," jisung calls for you softly, his chocolate brown eyes sparkle as they gaze up at you, "you're okay, you're safe."
his eyes scan over your face, watching as your own slowly meet his. there's a dullness to your eyes, a sense of apprehension laced in your features as your thoughts plague your body and mind.
"hey, love," he smiles and lightly caresses your hands with the pad of his thumbs, "just keep your eyes on me, i'm here. i'm not going anywhere, okay? just focus on my voice, love."
you fight your own body to regain control, to regain the strength to regulate your own emotions. you've grit your teeth in an effort to stay focused on your boyfriend's voice.
"hey, hey… you're safe love. i'm gonna move beside you, okay baby?" he moves slowly to sit next to you on the couch, careful not to startle you with any quick or sudden movements.
one of his hands move to your cheek gently caressing you there as well. a feeling of delight washes through his body at the sight of you instinctively leaning into his touch.
"you're okay. i know it feels scary right now but you're going to be okay. you're going to get through this, yeah?"
the hand on your cheek moves to pat your hair down gently. jisung's gentle touch moves around your body as a physical reminder that you aren't alone and that he is here with you.
"just keep focusing on my voice."
jisung continues to look over you, observing your current state and identifying how else he could help.
"i'm proud of you, you know?" he says fondly, "i know things get hard and it's scary sometimes but you always find a way to get through it. you're always doing such an amazing job."
a deep, unstable breath leaves your lips.
"good girl! you're doing great. breathe, breathe with me okay?" he inhales deeply and you attempt to follow him. then he exhales, "...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."
your exhales are shaky, your control not totally regained as you're fighting to get yourself out of your own head. but you feel the tension slowly dissipating from your body.
"one more time with me. concentrate on your breathing, okay?" this time jisung shuts his eyes as he inhales, hearing you take in a breath as well, before letting the air out slowly, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten..."
jisung notices your previously blown-out eyes have softened, he then decides to move on another strategy to further help you anchor yourself back down into the present.
"that's my girl, i'm so proud of you," he pats your hair once again, "does my y/n need anything right now?"
your voice is incredibly hushed and strained when you squeak out the next two words, "hold me."
jisung scoots even closer to you. adjusting himself so one arm is around your shoulders, wanting to hold you close to him. his other arm moves your head to rest on his chest and he gives you a moment to adjust as he whispers reassurances that you're okay, that you're safe and that he's here.
your ear presses up against his clothing as his hand rests on your jaw, caressing your skin with his palm. the warmth radiating off of jisung's body has your body reacting the way it usually does, melting into him as a wave of comfort washes over you. another deep breath leaving your lips, still a bit shaky but an improvement nonetheless.
"what are three things you can hear right now?"
your eyes flutter close as you try your best to tune into your surroundings, trying to identify noises inside the quiet room.
you hum, "your heartbeat… the vent… your breathing."
"how 'bout three things you can smell?"
"your cologne… coffee… brownies."
"now, can you tell me three things you can see?"
your eyes open slowly with blinks as you adjust to the light before you scan around the room.
"recording desk… microphone… computer."
jisung's hand moves to wrap around your wrist, gradually lifting your hand up in the air in front of you both.
"wiggle your fingers for me," your fingers wiggle, "kick your leg up for me," you kick your leg up slowly, "roll your ankle around." you roll your ankle around, "good job my love, i'm so proud."
your arm moves to wrap around jisung's body, pulling yourself closer to him. a breath of relief leaves your lips at the sense of ease that comes with the action, how you're able to grip onto the fabric of his shirt and nuzzle your face further into his chest.
"inhale," he sucks in a breath and you follow suit, "exhale... one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. do you need anything else, y/n baby?"
you shake your head, melting into his side as you feel your pulse and breathing regulate to a normal pace. you feel like your feet are back on solid ground, in control and in the centre of your mind instead of backed into a corner hiding away from it.
"i'm here," he coos, swaying your bodies back and forth, "you're not alone. never. i'm here. i'm right here with you."
when you shut your eyes, tears fall down your flushed cheeks-- tears that had welled up due to stress and overwhelming bursts of emotions you weren't able to control--but now they fall with a sense of relief.
"i love you," your voice is quiet, trembling the slightest bit, "thank you… thank you for being here. i love you so much."
jisung hushes you, his hands gently running up and down your back, "it's the least i can do. I'm always gonna be here, y/n, always."
you nod, your eyes still closed as you take a couple of moments to yourself in jisung's arms. this time you're trying your best to anchor yourself back down to earth by thinking of what you love, what relaxes you, reminding yourself of the light and the good.
you know this isn't going to be the last panic attack you're going to have but at least you know that you aren't alone, there's always someone willing to help. jisung continues to remind you of that, that he'll be there for you no matter what, in any way he possibly can. at the same time, jisung knows that you'd do the same for him as you've done it time and time again.
jisung has told you multiple times that he doesn't know how he'd function without you, feeling like he would be completely lost without you.
you are his heart.
meanwhile, jisung is your anchor.
in the middle of an uncontrollable storm, when the harsh waves rock the boat every which way, an anchor is vital to stay strong and controlled during such conditions. an anchor is a symbol of stability, a symbol of strength; a person you can rely on to support you to stay strong, to hold on even during the toughest of storms.
you found that person in jisung.
lee know: slbs
My Minho bias is going crazy right now 😭🤭
Oh, my God, man.
My cat boys
My changbin phase was never actually a phase
oh remembwr when changbin said when he angry all it takes is physical touch or any act of affection for him to turn into putty and how he said hannie instead of being th wfirat to apologise or something just waits with open arms and breaks down when the other person comes to him first WELL IMAGINE A FIC THAT INCORPORATES EITHER OF THESE WITH A LITTLE ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING WITH READER🫢
thank u anon, i will also do the jisung one, so keep an eye out!
pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader
tags: angst, miscommunication? a little suggestive at the end, like one swear word, good ending dw, other member makes an appearance
requested: yes!
wc: 1,130
Changbin is known for his short temper, that’s just a fact. He’s easily antagonised, resulting in some hilarious, unexpected, or very occasionally scary outbursts. He is quick to jump up or shout, and hard to calm down. Not many people have mastered the art of lion taming, but you? You’ve somehow perfected it. It wasn’t a conscious thing you did, but it seems you have some unseen power over him.
Your power was discovered by chance in the JYP dance studio. You had been invited along by your wonderful boyfriend who clearly just wanted to show off, knowing this you agreed anyway. You’d be a hypocrite not to indulge him a little bit, right?
During a 5-minute water break, a conversation had started up about shoes. Particularly, platforms. Now, everyone knows that Stray Kids aren’t exactly the tallest, your boyfriend being the shortest of them all, so you could already feel him become tense from his place next to you on the leather sofa.
“I don’t like them, they make me feel like my proportions are wrong,” Minho says from his place on the floor, flat on his back, limbs spread.
“I like them, our team needs them.” Felix contributes, resulting in a few laughs.
“Changbin maybe, I’d say the rest of us are fine.” Minho raises his head, smirking at Changbin.
“Hey! You’re not that much taller!”
“Yeah? Stand up.” Minho doesn’t move. Changbin takes the challenge, sputtering, and stands up. He goes to walk towards Minho who is still starfished, but you grab his hand.
“Sit down, Bin.” You chuckle. He stops in his tracks and plops down next to you immediately, holding your hand properly.
“Did you see that?” Hyunjin says, throwing his head back laughing.
“Yeah,” Jeongin speaks up. “Y/n has some serious powers.”
This results in some laughter around the room while Changbin looks at you, eyes creased with an open grin.
“How am I supposed to say no?” He chuckles, and takes your hand in both of his, squeezing it gently.
Your powers also work in more serious instances. Like the time Changbin thought you were cheating on him, accosting you the moment he got home from the studio.
“Y/n, you have some explaining to do,” he said, entering your shared living room where you had been sitting, peacefully reading.
“What?” you blinked up at him.
“Don’t play with me, I’m not stupid.”
“Bin, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t, of course, you don’t.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. If you weren’t so confused, you’d be ogling his arms in the tight black t-shirt he’s wearing.
“I really don’t. Can you tell me what I’ve apparently done?” You put your phone down next to you on the sofa.
“You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should’ve just said something.” That shocked you into closing your mouth.
“If you wanted to see other people, I wouldn’t stop you. Well, I would, I’d definitely try but if you really wanted to break up I couldn’t stop you. I’d be pissed though because I love you so much and I thought our relationship was practically perfect. And we’re usually so good at communicating so I’m upset that you couldn’t just tell me what’s wrong, or what happened for you to have a change of heart. But seriously, a fucking soft launch on your insta? That’s just shitty.”
Soft launch? Insta? Oh.
You stand up, keeping a relaxed posture and facial expression.
“So are you going to leave? Because if you are, I want my hoodies back, especially the navy one, it’s my favourite one.” He’s slowly getting louder.
Honestly, he’s kind of cute when he’s ranting. You stifle a laugh, taking a step into his space.
“Oh, so you’re laughing at me now? Oh, yes! Let’s laugh at Changbin! Ha! Ha! Ha! So fun-”
You cut him off by grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth doesn’t really react but his hands do instinctively come to your sides.
“Sorry, I had to get you to shut up.” You pull back, meeting a very emotionally conflicted Changbin.
“Bin. First of all, I’m not leaving you. Second of all, I didn’t soft launch. That was my cousin. He joined me and my aunt for lunch because he is in town at the minute. And lastly, you are so cute when you’re jealous.”
You get a front-row seat to the cogs turning in his head. You watch as his eyes widen and his face flushes a bright shade of red. You throw your head back laughing, still holding the sides of his head. The hands holding you have tightened their grip now, and he’s ducking his head down to hide in your neck.
“I am so sorry. I should be ashamed. Actually.” He cuts himself off and falls to his knees in front of you, arms unwrapping from around you to clasp them together as if he were praying.
“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. A thousand times over. Hey, stop laughing, I’m trying to apologise. I should never have assumed anything,” he says. You catch your breath and look down at him, instantly bringing a hand to run through his hair. His hands return to you, pulling you into him, and he buries his face in your stomach, mumbling more apologies.
“Changbin, please, look at me.” You use your leverage on his hair to force him to look up. He looks up at you with big eyes.
“Get up.” You giggle. He immediately stands.
“It’s okay, I can understand why you thought that, but you are also super dumb for even thinking that I’d do that in the first place. Why would I ever leave you?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shrugging.
“Exactly, I have no intention to ever leave my wonderful, adorable, handsome-”
“Sexy.”
“Uh-huh, sexy, smart, kind, and sometimes jealous boyfriend.” You smile up at him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He ducks his head into your neck once more.
“I really am sorry, you know.”
“I know you are.”
You feel his arms tighten around you in a strong hug and the two of you stay there for a few seconds as he sways the two of you gently.
“Okay, grovelling over,” he says suddenly standing up straight, dazing you slightly. He suddenly grabs you, easily throwing you over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” You nearly shout as he begins to move.
“Making it up to my wonderful, understanding, sexy girlfriend! Unless she has any complaints with the proposition?” he replies, and that’s when you realise you’re headed in the direction of the bedroom, and you throw your head back laughing again.
“No complaints here!”
taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!) : @lethallyprotected
Hannah is so real for that 😭
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, fluff, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect baby angel she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)
𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”
This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.
It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.
But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.
“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.
The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.
Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.
His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.
You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.
Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.
“Chan? Baby?”
You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.
Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile.
Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.
You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.
Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?
It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.
Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.
“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”
Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.
If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.
“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, angel, I just…”
His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.
You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.
Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.
You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.
“Baby?”
He hums into you, listening.
“Always be happy, okay?”
You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.
“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.
(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.
Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.
I like men in a white shirt and tie
and a leather jacket
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GAON!