#and I still would have been fine waiting if it was just an hour

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the catalyst - c.s.

this takes place prior to the two final screenshots in part ten

cw: (almost) cheating, suggestive implications, chris being an asshole

wc: 4k

part of the fwb!chris series

no doubt about it, you had to be drunk if you were going to this party.

normally you would pull up to parties with chris, have him pick you up or at least meet you there and wait outside until you showed up so you could walk in together, but now with him talking to this new girl (lia, you found out), you had to show up by yourself. it wasn’t a problem, you were pretty independent in your every day life, but something about showing up to a party by yourself felt embarrassing when it’s been so long since you’ve had to. despite your feelings, you didn’t want to appear too affected by chris’s new situation he had going on, so you were still going to go, just after pregaming a little harder than usual.

on the ride over there, you almost found yourself wanting to ask the driver to turn around and go back home, not wanting to stumble into somebody’s house an hour after everyone had already shown up and draw attention to yourself and your obvious loneliness. you talked yourself out of it, though, continuing on the short drive until you had pulled up to the typical hang out spot, thanking your driver and getting out.

the door was unlocked as usual, and you pushed it open and went inside as quietly as you could, doing your best to walk past people you didn’t really know to make your way to the kitchen to grab another drink. you were barely two seconds into pouring a mixer into a plastic cup when you feel somebody step up next to you, and you don’t have to tear your gaze away from what you’re doing to know who it is.

“when did you get here?” he questions, standing so close to you your arms are brushing together. you don’t answer him until your drink is made, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. once it’s swallowed, you turn your body to face him, eyes landing on his that are already watching you. “a few minutes ago,” you answer. “why, were you waiting for me?”

chris rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab your cup from your hand, bringing it up to his own lips for a taste. he hands it back to you, grimacing at the sweet flavor. “god, you make the worst drinks,” he scoffs. “and no, I wasn’t waiting for you, was just surprised that you came so late, that’s all.” you take the cup back and let your fingers brush over his at the transfer, body already thrumming from how close you were, the feeling of pure want intensified by the alcohol already in your system.

your eyes hide nothing, giving away just how badly you wanted chris in the moment. you thought you’d be able to keep it under control, but with him standing so close and looking so good, the scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils and infiltrating your senses. maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much before coming. “chris,” you say in a soft tone, one that always makes him melt, but tonight he just shakes his head at you and reaches up to place both hands on either one of your shoulders. “not tonight. please behave yourself tonight. I have lia here and I really don’t want to mess this up. I promise i’ll make it up to you,” he begs, and he really sounds like he means it.

you always hated not getting what you wanted.

“but, chris,” you pout, dropping your head down a bit to give your eyes a wider appearance, bringing your hand up to rest on his chest. you’re about to speak again when he grabs your hand and pulls it away from him, pushing it back towards you. “i’m serious,” he says lowly. “not tonight.”

you groan and narrow your eyes at chris frustratedly, annoyed at his determination. “fine,” you agree. you take your hand that he pushed away from you and reach between your bodies, cupping chris’s dick through the black jeans he wore, keeping your eyes lock on his. “just know i’ll be thinking about you all night and wishing you would have your way with me.”

chris sucked in a sharp breath at your touch, knowing he should pull away but not having the willpower to. one of his hands leans against the counter for support, the other itching to grab you and pull you closer. you can feel him twitching under your hand, a hint of an erection forming as you groped him. he was about to give into your touch, about to pull you somewhere more private, but an unfamiliar voice pulled you both from the moment. your pulled your hand away from him and tucked it into the back pocket of your jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, other hand bringing your cup up to your lips.

“here you are!” a girl’s voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen, stepping up to chris’s side with a wide grin on her face, oblivious to the tension in the room. chris slings an arm around her waist loosely, now refusing to make eye contact with you, afraid this girl would see right through him if he looked at you. “here I am,” he says with a forced smile, turning his head to face her. she turns and looks up at him, naive adoration painted on her features. “is this the friend you were telling me about?”

he told her about me? you think to yourself, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “yeah,” chris says, clearing his throat as he turned back to look at you. “this is lia, the girl i’ve been seeing,” he introduces awkwardly and you tilt your head at her, smiling sweetly. “lia,” you hum, nodding your head. her hand comes out to greet you and all you can do is stare down at it, judging the way her acrylics were grown out and an ugly color. “i’m gonna go find your brother,” you tell chris, looking back up at him with a smirk, sending him a knowing wink before turning on your heel and heading towards the living room, hearing chris apologizing for your attitude quietly.

you did exactly as you promised, finding matt sitting on the floor with his back leaned up against the front of a couch and his legs crossed in front of him, laughing at something a friend had said. “hi, matt,” you greet sweetly, sitting directly next to him. his attention is grabbed by you immediately, lifting his arm to drape it around your shoulder as he smiled over at you. “hi, pretty girl,” he replied.

you made conversation with him for a few minutes before chris and lia came into the room, him looking uncomfortable and her looking happy as ever. she couldn’t even pick up on his emotions yet and he was so willing to drop everything for her. how could he be so infatuated with a girl that was so fucking dumb she couldn’t tell when she broke up a moment filled with sexual tension?

there isn’t much time to dwell on her lack of social awareness before somebody grabs your attention again, sitting across from you and matt. “okay, are we playing truth or dare or spin the bottle?” he asks drunkenly. chris audibly groans, lowering himself to the floor in a makeshift circle, lia sitting so close she should’ve just sat on top of him. “can we not do some childish shit, please?” he asks, tone laced with annoyance.

“what, scared you’re gonna have to kiss somebody, chris?” matt teases from next to you and you’re unable to contain the small giggle that leaves your lips. “or are you scared i’m gonna kiss your girl?”

matt’s arm squeezes around you when he says this and it takes you a moment to realize he’s not talking about the girl tucked into chris’s side, but rather about you. “i’m not scared of shit, asshole, I just don’t think we should be playing some fucking little kid games.” chris shoots back with a dramatic eye roll. “it’ll be fun!” lia says enthusiastically, wrapping both hands around chris’s bicep and shaking him lightly. he looks over at her and sends a tight lipped smile her way, his hand gently rubbing over her arm. “alright, whatever,” he concedes.

that’s how you all ended up playing truth or dare, spinning a bottle to decide who goes first. after a few rounds of stupid dares and pussy cop outs with people choosing truth, it’s matt’s turn to ask somebody a question. his attention turns to you, and a lazy smirk finds its way onto his lips. “truth or dare,” he asks you quietly and you can’t help but feel nervous at his tone. “dare,” you say instantly.

matt shifts a bit next to you before looking around the room, eyes landing on his brother for a moment before flitting back to you. “I dare you to make out with me for at least a minute,” he says after a few moments of thought. you’re a bit shocked at this, but quickly snap out of it and swing your leg over his lap, sitting atop his thighs happily. matt’s grinning up at you like a sick freak and you feel clued in on his intentions with the way he stares at you, so to bounce off of his energy, you turn your head to chris who’s staring at the two of you with dark, intense eyes, clearly not a fan of what was going on. “hey, chris?” you ask sweetly, tilting your head a bit. “can you start a timer, please?”

chris narrows his eyes at you, not liking the game you decided to play with him. he already wasn’t a big fan of your relationship with matt, but having to sit here and witness it himself was another level of fucked up. after he doesn’t answer, refusing to take his eyes off of you, the stupid, clueless girl next to him whips out her phone. “i’ll do it!” she says with a smile, holding up the timer. you roll your eyes and turn back to face matt, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “she’s so fucking stupid,” you whisper so only he can hear and he laughs at your comment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down to meet his lips.

you’re instantly melting into the kiss, lips slotting together effortlessly, the taste of alcohol and juice on both of your tongues mingling. matt’s touch was so much gentler than chris’s, the way his hands slid up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and the way he took his time kissing you instead of rushing through it. between the way he felt holding you against him and the liquor running through your veins, you felt yourself getting carried away in the kiss, hips subtly grinding down on him as your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him close to you as you made out.

“minute’s up,” chris informs you both, but matt’s hands move down from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the denim covering your skin, willing you even closer. “hello?” chris says again, louder this time, infuriated at the way you both seemed to get more into it. it’s not fully surprising when chris’s hand lands on your shoulder and roughly pulls you away from matt, almost ripping you off his lap. “enough,” he snaps, hand instinctively moving towards your jaw to turn your head to face him. your eyebrows immediately furrow together at his rough touch, hand pulling away from matt to shove into chris’s chest roughly. “back the fuck up, chris.”

he surprisingly listens, not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene in front of everybody, including lia, sitting back in his original position next to her. she seems slightly unnerved at his reaction, waiting a few moments before she places her hand back on his arm. “are you okay?” lia questions in her soft voice and chris doesn’t even glance her way, eyes locked on you as you climb off of matt’s lap and settle next to him again. “he’s fine, he’s just a little possessive,” matt snarks, his arm coming back around your shoulder. “a little?” you scoff, eyes trailing over chris’s tense frame. “hey, matt, when do you think we should tell chris that I lied about hooking up with you to make him jealous?”

you wish you had a camera to record the way chris’s expression dropped, the way his jaw visibly tensed from his teeth clenching together, the way his chest expanded from the breath he pulled in. “what does she mean?” lia questions from next to chris, turning her body towards him. “nothing,” he immediately answers. “it’s my turn!” you say enthusiastically, clapping your hands together and letting them fall in your lap. “lia, truth or dare?” you ask her, sending a smile her way. she’s shifting uncomfortably at your words, turning her attention to you apprehensively. “um…” her eyes flit to chris’s face for a moment, but they look back at you when she realizes he’s still staring at you. “dare,” she finally answers, sitting up straighter. you can tell that she only picks dare to impress chris, but he’s focused on anything but her right now.

you hum and tap your index finger on your chin a few times as you think of what to say. “I dare you… to go through chris’s phone!” is what you land on, and chris immediately moves to stand up, brushing lia off of his arm. “can I talk to you?” he directs towards you, not waiting for an answer before he grabs you by your arm and lifts you off the ground, dragging you towards a bedroom down the hall. “you’re hurting me,” you tell him bluntly, trying to pull away, but he just tightens his fingers around you as he shoves you into a room and slams the door shut behind you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he sneers, finally releasing you. you huff and try to fix your clothes, glaring at the fuming man in front of you. “what are you talking about?” you ask him, raising your eyebrows at him. “i’m not doing this little back and forth. stop fucking with her. I mean it, dude, i’m not playing. don’t drag her into your mean girl bullshit. she’s too nice for you and your bitchy behavior.”

you scoff at his words, unable to believe he’s trying to defend this girl from you. “she’s fine,” you drawl, waving a hand at him dismissively. “god, chris, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” you take a small step closer to him, trying to close the distance between you two. “don’t,” he says sternly, bringing his hands up to stop you. you take another step closer, bringing your hands up to rest on his outstretched arms, dragging them up until they were placed on his shoulders. “don’t what?” you ask him, peering up at him through your lash extensions, eyes boring into him shamelessly. “don’t be slutty right now, i’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

you laugh and step even further until your chests are pressed together, bringing your arms up to wrap around him. you rested your chin on his sternum and gazed up at him, smiling at the way he stared across the room behind you, refusing to look down at you in fear of giving in. despite his unwillingness to look at you, his arms come up and wrap around your shoulders, a loud sigh escaping his nostrils. “look at me,” you say softly, squeezing your arms around him gently. you can feel his heart pounding from where you rested against him and you knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in.

when chris finally looked down and met your eyes, you felt the energy in the room shift. his expression softened as he inspected your face and the way that you looked back at him, like you were patiently waiting for him to crack and give you attention. “you’re incredibly rude,” is the first thing he says after locking eyes with you and you can’t help but grin at his statement. “you like how rude I am,” you retort.

chris rolls his eyes and looks past you for a moment before refocusing his gaze on you. “I tolerate how rude you are to me, not to girls I like. it’s not cute, it’s just pissing me off.” his tone is quiet, but you can tell he’s serious with the way he speaks. “i’m sorry,” you say honestly, pouring your bottom lip out subtly. “can I kiss it better?” he laughs at this and tightens his arms around your shoulders, shaking his head. “no, i’m not rewarding your awful behavior. go kiss matt about it,” he tells you, then pauses. “were you serious about what you said? that you lied about sleeping with him?”

you suck in a sharp breath at his words, feeling cornered despite you admitting exactly that only a few minutes prior. “I do think he’s hot,” you start. “but that was the first time we’ve ever kissed. he thinks you’re kind of an asshole when it comes to women so he wanted to see how mad you could get if we both made you believe we were fucking.”

chris purses his lips and nods, almost like he’s impressed by your scheme. “too bad you’re not important enough to make me jealous,” he teases and it makes you crack a smile. “sure, that’s why you ripped me off of him like that.”

“I was just playing by the rules,” chris defends, refusing to be pegged as the jealous type. “can you please just stop being weird and rude? i’m not asking for a lot.” you sigh and press your forehead into his chest for a couple of beats before looking back up at him, nodding your head. “yeah, alright,” you concede. “if you kiss me all nasty right now.”

“oh my god,” chris groans, but he couldn’t fight the closeness between you two any longer, bringing his hand up to the back of your head and leaning down to press his lips against yours roughly, both of your eyes fluttering shut as you made contact. your hands around him gripped at the back of his shirt to hold him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine slipping out of your nose. the kiss only lasted maybe thirty seconds before he pulled away and stared down at you, soaking in your wide eyes and needy pout. “enough. let’s go.”

you nod and let go of him, but not before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, pulling away to smile up at him. “i’m right behind you,” you tell him and he steps away from you, not so subtly waistbanding his dick before opening the bedroom door and stepping out, making his way back into the living room.

you both take your respective places back next to lia and matt, looking as inconspicuous as you could after a slightly heated make-out that left you both craving more. matt sent you a knowing smirk, pulling you back into his side once you settled back down, and lia just smiled at chris, completely missing the way he used the collar of his shirt to wipe off his lips from where your lip gloss was smeared along them.

what she didn’t miss, noticing it only seconds later, was the tinged lip print pressed perfectly against his neck, right above his collarbone where you could reach. she stared at it for what seemed like forever, and your heart dropped when you saw what she saw. “fuck,” you breathe out, catching matt’s attention. he’s not even able to question you when he sees lia scooting away from chris, a hurt expression painted on her face.

“what is that?” she asks, voice strained as it comes out. chris is clueless, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “what is what?” he asks her, annoyance lacing his tone. lia only reaches up and touches his neck, dragging her finger through the sticky gloss on his skin before holding it up for him to see. you can tell he feels the same stomach-sinking dread when he notices what he’s being shown, mouth opening to speak, then closing again when he can’t think of a way to defend himself.

you’re scooting away from matt nervously, feeling like you were about to throw up, not because you were worried about this girl’s feelings, but because you were terrified of chris’s reaction. he practically begged you to behave, and you fucked up with a stupid fucking kiss. “oh my god,” you choke out, standing up from the floor. chris’s attention is drawn to you at your movement, pushing himself off the floor as well. “you are so fucking stupid,” he spits, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “I ask you to back the fuck off for one night! you can never fucking listen!”

you flinch at his words, taking a few steps back until you slam into the wall behind you, eyes welling with tears as he nears closer. “it was an accident,” you mumble, using the back of your hand to wipe the remaining lip gloss off of your lips haphazardly, even though it didn’t matter anymore. “you are such a fucking whore. always have to ruin everything, don’t you?” he’s in your face now, glaring down at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. “you kissed me, too, this isn’t my fault!” you yell back, voice pinched as you start to get worked up, heart pounding in your chest. “you don’t get to blame all your fuck ups on me!”

“chris,” matt warns from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder cautiously, which chris instantly brushes off, eyes locked on you. “i’m sorry that nobody wants you, i’m sorry nobody wants to deal with how fucking exhausting you are, but that doesn’t mean you can go around and fuck with me and my life.” chris doesn’t even bat an eye at the tear that slips down your cheek or the way your lip wobbles, only rolling his eyes before turning around and walking back towards lia, helping her up off the floor.

you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him leave, unable to hear matt as he speaks to you, only focusing on chris as he guides his girlfriend-not-girlfriend out of the house, presumably to explain and try to put back the pieces of what little relationship they had. the second he’s out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, turning to look at matt. “can you take me home?” you ask him, and he instantly nods, guiding you towards the door.

the ride home is silent, and you feel like you’re on autopilot when you walk into your apartment and kick off your shoes, only letting yourself process what had happened when you were wrapped up in your blankets twenty minutes later. you tried calling chris, and all of your calls were instantly sent to voicemail.

that’s when you texted him, feeling a new sense of rage at his accusations through the messages he sent, deciding that this wasn’t all your fault and you weren’t the only bad guy here. chris made his bed, too, and you would make sure he suffered as he laid in it.

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[barnesafterglow]

the art of missing someone

summary: bucky barnes was a lot, but he would always be yours

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: brief college then modern au, little bit of angst, don't ask if this is based off personal experience i will cry, smut (MINORS DNI!) [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)], confessions, idk man i'm just here

a/n: first fic of 2025!! this was a bitch and i still lowkey hate it but it is what it is

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

The thing about Bucky Barnes was, well, he’s kind of an asshole.

In a funny way, really, but an asshole through and through and, for some reason, that did it for you.

It did it for you so much, in fact, that you had been going in circles with him for years now. You met him originally at a party in college; you didn’t know anyone except for your roommate, Natasha, and she introduced you. You immediately gravitated towards him, with his quick wit and sharp opinions, you felt like you could talk to him about anything. He kept close to you the entire night, getting more touchy as the evening dragged on, until the tipping point came.

You were finishing up a game of beer pong where you and Bucky absolutely dominated, and as you sank the last cup, he picked you up, swinging you around before setting you back on your feet. The thing is, he didn’t really let you go. You stood there, in the middle of a crowded party, with his arms around you and it was like everyone else disappeared.

Searching your eyes for permission, he bent his head down and his lips met yours and that was really the beginning of it all. It was unlike any kiss you had ever had, sweet but a little desperate and you craved more.

It became a thing, after that. You would see Bucky at a party, make nice for a few hours, then end up in a closet or empty bedroom making out until someone came to find you.

But more than that, Bucky became your friend. He was who you talked to in your darkest moments, who you sent stupid videos to, everything, and you liked it like that.

That is, until everything got turned on its head.

It happened right after graduation. You had just moved into your own apartment and were waiting for Bucky to come over for movie night. You hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, the communication very much lacking, but you figured it was just a busy time for both of you and once you got settled, everything would be fine.

That is, until you got a phone call as you closed the microwave door and started the popcorn. Immediately seeing Bucky’s name, you wiped your hands and answered.

“Hey, you almost here?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a sigh.

“I- I don’t know how to say this,” Bucky started, and you found yourself growing nervous. There was nothing you and Bucky couldn’t talk about. Well, almost nothing. “Me and Dot, well, we’ve been talking and…”

His voice trailed off, the line going quiet again. But you were going to make him say it.

“We’re getting back together. She really wants to make it work this time.”

And there it was. Dot was Bucky’s on again-off again for the last several years, stretching back to before you even knew him, and it was a sore spot in your friendship. They had mostly been “off” in the time you’d known him, save for a few memorable occasions where she wormed her way back into his life for a couple weeks just to break his heart all over again. It was safe to say she was not your favorite person, and you certainly weren’t hers.

“Bucky…” you started, but he cut you off.

“No, I know what you’re thinking.” He actually probably had no clue how evil the thoughts you had were, but you weren’t going to enlighten him. “But it’s serious this time, we’ve been talking since graduation and we’re both ready to give this a real shot, without all the bullshit.”

He sounded so sincere, and he was your best friend, so you took a deep breath and sighed, accepting the fact that if you wanted Bucky in your life, this was just something you would have to deal with.

You could hear his relieved laugh on the other end, and you felt your stomach give an odd lurch, like someone had pulled a carpet out from under you.

“I knew you would understand, thank you.”

“Of course, Buck. Now, what about movie night?”

Another beat of silence, then, just like you knew it would happen:

“I can’t, Dot is coming over.”

You wanted to argue, to scream, to make him feel bad about choosing her over you, but hadn’t he already? So instead, you mumbled a quiet agreement and hung up, not wanting to talk to him any longer. Already, it felt like the beginning of the end.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

-

It didn’t even happen slowly, is the worst part. You didn’t see Bucky that night, or any night for the weeks that followed. It wasn’t until you saw him at the coffee shop by your apartment that you were able to talk to him.

You sat down at his table, no longer interested in placid excuses and apologies, and asked him point blank what was going on.

“I’m just trying to keep Dot happy.”

“By staying away from me?” You were frustrated, sure, but under that really you were just hurt. “Listen, you know I don’t like her, but I would never ask you to choose between us. That’s not fair and if she cared about you like she said she does, then she wouldn’t either.”

“It’s not like that!” His voice was raising, just a little, so you knew he was just being defensive. He must have heard it too because he cleared his throat, voicing going back to normal. “I just don’t want to cause any problems.”

You nodded, grabbing your coffee as you stood up, and headed for the door. If he was willing to let your friendship go, then you weren’t going to fight him on it. So you left, face heated with embarrassment and tears threatening to spill over.

As you passed the threshold to the coffee shop back onto the sidewalk, you pulled your headphones on, ignoring the bustle of the city and Bucky still watching you leave through the window.

-

Adjusting to a life without Bucky was weird, you had to admit, but you did it anyway. The first few weeks were the hardest, when he was the first person you wanted to text during any occasion, but eventually that muscle memory faded until you were reaching out to the people who actually valued you in their life. 

Almost a year passed, and you moved on in all the ways you could. You heard Bucky moved back across the river to Brooklyn and that was about all you knew; your friends avoided the mention of even his name if they could help it, even though you knew at the very least Steve and Natasha still talked to him.

You just hoped he was happy, no matter what he was doing.

It was a cold January night when the notification came through. Wanda had recently convinced you to get on a dating app, even though you were perfectly content being single, thank you, but you had to admit the attention didn’t hurt.

You weren’t expecting much when your phone chimed and you unlocked it without even looking at the notification. Which is how you came face to face with Bucky’s Hinge profile, and a message attached to a picture of you that you knew he had taken saying: hey, you look familiar.

Was that really how he was going to make amends, on a dating app?

You supposed it was kind of funny, in that asshole way of his, and you stared at the message for another moment before responding.

oh, i know you?

if you want to

And, well, that was the thing. You did want to. No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt you, he was still your best friend. Your Bucky.

Instead of answering, you pulled up a contact you hadn’t opened in months and pressed call. It rang one time before a familiar voice flooded the other end.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, Buck.”

It was a healthy conversation, if you were being honest. Bucky apologized, told you he and Dot were done for good this time and, against your better judgment, you accepted it. You talked for hours after that, catching up on life and reminiscing on old memories, until you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s late,” you said as you put the phone back to your ear. “Almost midnight.”

And then, the words you dreaded but wanted desperately.

“Come over.”

“To Brooklyn? Buck I can’t take the subway this late.”

“I’ll pay for your Uber. Just come over.” You could hear the words he wanted to say, the ones on the tip of his tongue that he just wouldn’t force out.

“Well, I did miss you.” You tried to press it, to make him say it, but he only hummed on the other end.

“So is that a yes?”

You looked down at yourself, cozied up in sweatpants and a hoodie that you were almost entirely sure was Bucky’s, and sighed.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, your Uber will be there in 8 minutes.”

You didn’t have time to wonder how he got your new address - probably one of your mutual friends, maybe he had been keeping more tabs on you than you had on him - and shot up from the couch. With no time to change, you headed to the bathroom and brushed your teeth before taming your hair in the best way you could. As you were stuffing some clothes in an overnight bag - just in case, you told yourself - your phone chimed with a text from Bucky that your Uber had arrived. 

In a whirlwind, you rushed to the car where the driver seemed very put off at having to wait a whole 90 seconds for you to walk four flights of stairs, and slid in.

The whole ride there you were nervous. The thing with Bucky was, despite many drunken hookups, you’d never actually had sex. You weren’t really sure why, just that it had never happened and you had been grateful for it in the long run. You weren’t even sure if it would happen tonight, if he still wanted you like that. Even with all your talking and catching up, you hadn’t been brave enough to ask what this meant.

At nearly 1am, your Uber pulled up outside a beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and, there on the front porch, stood Bucky.

He wrapped you in his arms as he stood in front of you, and it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar you gave in immediately, all the tension leaking from your body at the feeling Bucky gave you. 

“Hey,” he said softly into your hair. “Come on in.”

Bucky’s house was so far from his old college apartment it was frightening, yet it couldn’t have felt more like Bucky. More like home. 

You took in your surroundings, shelves of books and vintage furniture and warm tones, it was almost like stepping back into your own place, the aesthetics were so similar. That was the funny feeling in your chest, you were sure.

Eventually, you ended up on Bucky’s couch with some superhero movie on, not really watching it but still grateful for its background noise to fill the room with each lull in the conversation. Not that there were many, one thing that came easy with Bucky had always been talking - although neither of you did much of that when it really mattered; you figured you could put that out of your mind for now. 

Over the course of the movie, you and Bucky shifted closer together until your thighs were pressed flush and you could feel the air from each of his exaggerated hand movements. It wasn’t until a wayward wave nearly grazed your nose that you truly realized how close you had become, and the sight of Bucky’s eyes shifting subtly to your lips has your self restraint at an all time low.

Fuck it, you thought. You had wanted this for so long, but you also knew you could live without Bucky if everything went tits up. It was a sad thought, that, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go. With every bit of courage you had, you let your hand float up to cup Bucky’s cheek, eyes searching for any sort of hesitation. When you found none, you leaned forward to close the admittedly small gap between your lips.

It was electric. Never had a kiss from someone else ever lit a fire inside you the way one from Bucky did. It started off slow, searching, a chance to reacquaint yourselves. But the second Bucky’s hand reached to tangle in your hair, everything shifted. 

Suddenly you were pulled in Bucky’s lap, legs straddling his, lips desperate for a taste of what you’d missed for so long. It was everything you hadn’t let yourself wish for, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to be missing it again anytime soon.

It wasn’t until your shirts were on the floor and Bucky was making quick work of your clasped bra that you thought maybe it would be smart to just slow down. Just for a second, just to get your bearings. 

An honest to god whine fell from his lips as you pulled back, stopping his hands from undressing you any further. 

“Buck,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his, hands cupping his face as if he was something precious. Though you supposed he was, to you at least. “What’s going on?”

“I just…” His voice trailed off, obviously unsure of himself even though this at least was familiar territory. What was to come next, however, was not. “I can’t go another day without making you mine.”

Your core tightened at the words, vivid memories of what Bucky’s hands and mouth could do; fantasies of what else he could do invaded as well as suddenly talking didn’t seem like a priority anymore. 

“Take me to bed.” And that was all he needed. 

Bucky scooped you up bridal style, carrying you across the threshold of his bedroom and laying you gently on his bed. Your eyes darted around, wanting more of snippets of the life Bucky had built here, but you were quickly distracted by his body covering yours, the weight of him pressed between your thighs was comforting and intoxicating. 

Bucky’s touch proved even more distracting as he shed you of your bra, mouth immediately latching to one nipple, the little nips and sucks enough to drive you crazy on their own, while his hands pinched at the other. He continued his assault until you were dizzy with want, then he trailed down your body with his mouth, not leaving an inch of skin undiscovered until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.

He pulled them down just an inch, then his eyes shot up to meet yours at the discovery. 

“No underwear?” His voice was deep, husky, almost fucked out if you really thought about it. It was a thrill that your hold on him was so tight that just the thought of you without underwear was enough to leave him reeling just a little bit. 

You batted your eyes innocently. “Someone didn’t give me much warning about my Uber, I apologize.”

The giggle in your voice suggested the insincerity of your apology, but it didn’t deter Bucky as he pulled your pants from your body, mouth and hands still exploring. 

His fingers traced unknown patterns along your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart until you were fully exposed to him. You felt nervous all of a sudden, like you had never been in this position before. You had, of course, but never sober, and never with Bucky looking at you so attentively - like he was going to eat you alive. 

It was intense, having Bucky’s eyes bore into you as he lowered his mouth to your core, starting with gentle kitten licks until your hips were bucking, searching for more friction. One of his hands pinned your hips to the bed, while the other slipped through your folds, spreading spit and slick, before he slipped one inside of you. Then two, then three, until you were begging for release.

All it took was a soft whisper of come on, baby and a crook of Bucky’s fingers and you were falling apart, the intensity of your orgasm whipping through you, and as you floated back down to your senses, Bucky was still going. 

It was feverish, like he couldn’t get enough of your pleasure, and each twitch and moan encouraged him until your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him away from your spent body.

He let out a protest, but you silenced it by pressing your lips to his, moaning at the taste of yourself as his tongue pressed into your mouth. You were lost in the sensation, letting yourself be manhandled until you were once again in Bucky’s lap. Sometime while you had been transported to another planet, his pants had been shed and you were oh so close to getting everything you ever wanted. 

With your mouth still pressed to his, you rolled your hips, feeling the weight of him sliding along you. You kept at it, teasing and grinding until he thrust his hips and there it was; one slight adjustment and the feeling of Bucky stretching you out to was more overwhelming than you could have imagined.

Your hips stilled, as did Bucky’s, letting you adjust to him until you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, your way of telling him that you were okay, that he could move.

His thrusts started slowly, letting you feel every inch of him until you were begging for more. When his hands stopped roaming to grip your hips tightly, you knew you were done for.

Bucky held you in place, his hips snapping up to fuck into you and all you could do was hold on for the ride. 

You were so overwhelmed you almost missed Bucky’s words, mixed in with his moans, but once you caught them, they were as clear as day:

I missed you.

Over and over, Bucky was repeating the words, interspersed with groans and heavy panting, but your heart restricted regardless 

He missed you. Bucky missed you.

With your thoughts such a jumbled mess, reveling in the fact that this was really happening, your orgasm snuck up on you. One second you were floating on the high of Bucky and the next you were crashing, falling, and he was right there to catch you as you came down.

His hips slowed, stuttering as he spilled into you with one final thrust.

For a moment, the world around you didn’t exist. All there was was this moment, with Bucky’s arms around you and your head buried in his shoulder. Everything came back at once: your harsh breaths, the noise of the TV far away in the living room, and Bucky’s hushed whispers as he held you.

“I missed you so much.” You didn’t respond for a moment, but you lifted your head to meet Bucky’s eyes. In them lay the sincerity of his words, vulnerable now that they weren’t being said in the heat of the moment.

“I missed you too, Buck.”

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt2

Hyungline x Gn! Reader

(sorry this took like forever lmao ive been going through it in life unfortunately💀💀💀 )

Bangchan

The hum of the studio was still present, but now it felt different- less like a comforting embrace and more like static electricity prickling your skin.

The once-warm atmosphere had turned cold, muted, and the silence stretched like a chasm between you and Chan.

He didn’t ask if you needed anything anymore. He didn’t look at you at all.

The first hour after your slip-up had been the worst. You’d sat there, staring at the screen of your phone, scrolling aimlessly to avoid looking at him. But your thoughts betrayed you, circling back to the look on his face when you’d called him clingy- the hurt in his eyes, the faint slump of his shoulders, the way his movements slowed, as though your words had drained the energy out of him.

This is almost unbearable... You thought to yourself. I've never been uncomfortable around Chris before, rather the complete opposite...I don't like this.

You had apologized in your head a dozen times already, running over how you could bring it up without making things worse. But every time you glanced his way, you found yourself frozen, the words dying in your throat.

I was harsh...I'm feel horrible...

Chan wasn’t usually one to sulk, but this was different. He didn’t seem angry-he didn’t snap or lash out.

Although you wished he would have. It may have been better than this thick tension.

But instead of yelling or cursing, he buried himself in his work, shutting you out completely. His usual hums and absentminded muttering as he worked were nowhere to be found. The tapping of keys and the occasional adjustment of a dial were the only sounds that filled the room.

It felt unbearable.

After almost two hours of sitting in silence, the tension was too much. You shifted in your chair, swallowing the lump in your throat as you finally spoke up.

“Chan,” you said softly, your voice hesitant.

He didn’t respond immediately. His fingers paused over the keyboard, but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“Yeah?” he said, his tone neutral- too neutral.

You winced. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh earlier. I-” You rushed out.

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, his voice tight, clipped.

But it wasn’t fine. You could hear it in the way his words came out too quickly, the way he immediately went back to typing as though he hadn’t just brushed you off.

Serves me right...

You tried again. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He let out a breath, finally turning his chair to face you. His expression was guarded, a carefully constructed mask of calm, but his eyes gave him away.

“Look,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I get it. I was being overbearing. I just…I thought I was helping. I'll ease up from now on."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. He wasn’t trying to defend himself- he was agreeing with you, accepting blame where there wasn’t any to take.

And you didn't want him to agree.

“You- you were helping,” you said quickly. “I was just… overwhelmed, and I didn’t think before I spoke. I-I don't want you to ease up...I love you the way you are.”

Chan nodded slowly, but the way his jaw tightened told you he wasn’t convinced.

“Sometimes I overdo it,” he said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know how to…not worry about the people I care about. Or love.”

Your heart sank. He wasn’t just talking about you. He was talking about himself, about how he carried the weight of everyone’s needs on his shoulders, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

“And I made you feel like you couldn’t breathe,” he added, almost to himself.

“No,” you said quickly, leaning forward. “That’s not what I meant. You’re always so thoughtful, Chan. I just…” You trailed off, struggling to put your feelings into words. "I...uh...damn it..."

He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue, but there was a distance in his gaze now- an invisible barrier you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing something wrong,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Because you’re not. I was just having a bad day, and I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted again, standing abruptly. “It’s getting late. I should wrap this up anyway.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

It wasn’t angry, but it was dismissive.

Final.

“Chan-”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some rest. I’ll finish up here.”

The dismissal stung more than you expected. You stood up, hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should push further or give him space. But the way he had already turned back to his desk made the decision for you.

“Okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, glancing back one last time. Chan was hunched over his keyboard, his back to you, the soft glow of the monitor casting shadows across his face.

“Goodnight,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond.

As you headed out he called out.

"Y/N."

You turned towards him, hopeful.

"You don't have to come tomorrow. Ji...sung-ah and...Innie-ah are supposed to be here to work on something with me."

You sighed and bit the inside part of your lip. He was terrible at lying.

Then a small rush of unrighteous anger hit you.

"Thats okay, I had plans anyways." You shot back, leaving. You almost missed the surprised look as he lifted his head from his bag.

The walk home was a blur. The guilt in your chest felt heavier with every step, suffocating you until you could hardly breathe.

But now that guilt stemmed from also saying something to purposefully provoke him.

Why would I even say that? I have no reason to be mad- but he...he has all the reason to be.

You thought about texting him, but what could you say? Nothing you typed out felt like enough. Apologizing once wasn’t going to fix this.

And you were too prideful to admit your pettiness.

It's embarrassing...

When you finally got home, you dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. You replayed all the moments over and over in your head, wishing you could go back and choose different words, wishing you could make him understand how much he meant to you.

But then your anger driven words hit you. You just loved digging yourself deeper graves. So, you pulled out your phone and shot a text.

Deciding that if you were at a standstill with each other, you at least wouldn't lie to him.

——————————————————————————

Minho

The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of guilt and lingering irritation. Sleep hadn’t come easy, your mind replaying the events from the previous night like a broken record. You had lashed out, hurt him, and now there was this gnawing uncertainty about where things stood.

You debated texting Minho to apologize, but the thought of his cold tone from last night stopped you. The memory of his quick, hollow kiss on your temple was like a dull ache in your chest- a reminder of how much damage had been done.

You sighed as you reached for your phone, jumping when you see a text from Minho.

Minho: Dori didn't even wait for me to finish preparing his breakfast before eating Soonie's. Such a menace.

You stared at the text for a long moment, unsure of what to make of it. It wasn’t unusual for him to send updates about his cats, but this felt like an attempt to return to normalcy without directly addressing what had happened.

Should I respond? Should I apologize? You wanted to, but the thought of putting your emotions into words felt daunting.

Instead, you liked the message, telling yourself you’d figure it out later. But as the day dragged on, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything. By the evening, your phone buzzed, breaking you from your thoughts.

Minho: Did you eat?

The question was simple, almost routine, but it held a strange weight. And you were unsure how to respond.

Was this his way of reaching out, or was he just trying to check a box out of habit?

You hesitated before typing back: You: Yeah. Did you?

His reply came almost immediately: Minho: Mhm. Chan-hyung made japchae. Ate while working. Minho: Also, three cups of pudding.

You couldn't help but let out a little giggle. You could picture him in his studio, his face reflected in a the mirrors, as he sat crisscross on the dance floor, scribbling choreo ideas, spoon in one hand and a cup of pudding beside him. The image tugged at your heartstrings in the way only a lover could do.

You: Busy day? Minho: Always.

You sighed and rested your head on the back of your couch.

Short. Not necessarily clipped, but there were no teasing or playful jabs. No emojis. Just facts. It felt so unlike him, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You could feel the awkwardness as if he was sitting in the room with you.

You: I’m sorry about last night. You typed out a response, then deleted it, then typed it again. Finally, you settled on: You: I miss you.

The three dots signaling his response appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. You held your breath, waiting.

Minho: Yeah...

You: I'm sorry.

Minho: It's fine.

It wasn’t fine. You knew that. The lack of warmth in his reply was enough to confirm it.

You: It doesn’t feel fine. Minho: Maybe it’s not...

There it was. The crack in the veneer. Your chest tightened as you stared at his words. You wanted to fix it, to make it right, but you didn’t know how.

You: Can we talk? Minho: Not right now. I’m tired.

The conversation ended there. You stared at the screen long after his reply, the words “I’m tired” echoing in your mind. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion he was talking about. He was emotionally drained, and you were the reason.

You: Okay, goodnight. I love you. Minho: Night. I love you too.

Over the next two weeks, things didn't get much better.

You hadn't seen him in person, and only had a few video calls where anytime you tried to bring up an apology, Minho deflected the conversation.

It felt like more of an awkward and intimate friendship interacting rather than a couple. And you needed to change that. You couldn't handle it. You missed your boyfriend.

Minho had always been steady, a constant in your life. You hadn’t realized how much of a lifeline he was until you cut it with a single careless word.

Clingy.

The way his expression had shifted when you said it- it haunted you. Minho, who rarely let his emotions crack the surface, had been hurt. You’d seen it, felt it in the way he pulled back from you. And you wanted to pull him back towards you.

That’s what brought you to his house a few nights later, your chest tight with desperation and dread. You didn’t have a plan, just a need to be near him, to try and fix what you’d broken.

The porch light cast a faint glow as you arrived, the sight of it familiar yet unsettling. You hesitated at the keypad, your fingers trembling as you entered the code. For a moment, you feared he might have changed it, but the lock clicked open with a soft, mechanical hum.

The sound felt louder than it should have in the quiet night, and your heart ached with the thought that you still knew this house so well.

You stepped inside, the warmth of the entryway doing little to ease the chill in your bones.

“Minho?” Dori was the only cat by the door, immediately rushing to you to rub up against your legs. "Min?"

Your voice was soft, tentative, as you slipped off your shoes and into slippers, but it went unanswered.

The faint murmur of voices reached you from the living room. You moved toward the sound, your footsteps hesitant.

And then you saw them.

She was sitting on the couch, her laughter carrying easily in the stillness of the house.

Minho was beside her, close enough that the space between them seemed insignificant. His expression, one that had been so cold and was open-relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in minute.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the scene before you crashing down like a tidal wave.

You must have made a sound, because Minho’s head turned sharply in your direction. His eyes widened, surprise etched across his face.

“Y/N?”

The girl followed his gaze, her expression a mix of confusion and mild curiosity.

You froze, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“I-” The words caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to come up with an explanation for why you were here, standing uninvited in his doorway.

“Y/N-ah, wait-” He said, scrambling up from the couch, tripping over Dori who had decided to join the party.

But you were already backing away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, your voice cracking as you stumbled toward the door. You knocked into the cats water bowl, soaking your feet. The lump in your throat threatened to choke you, but you forced the words out. “I’ll just- go.”

Minho reached for you, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Don’t-”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, pulling away. The door slammed shut behind you, the cold air biting at your skin as you stepped into the night.

You didn’t realize you were still wearing the house shoes Minho had bought for you months ago until you were halfway down the street, your steps uneven on the pavement. The absurdity of it made your throat tighten, but the tears came before the laughter could.

Your vision blurred as you walked aimlessly, the weight in your chest pressing down until it felt hard to breathe. You could still see her face, hear her laugh. It was seared into your mind.

There is no way he could have moved on in just two weeks...right?

Could he have...no. Never.

But had he?

You didn’t know either way. And you couldn’t bring yourself to stay long enough to find out.

Back at the house, Minho stood frozen by the door. Doongie let out a soft mew, as if speaking.

"I know..." Minho said to the cat.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the space where you’d been, staring at where your shoes were left, your sudden departure leaving a suffocating silence along with them.

“Minho?” the girl called hesitantly, her voice breaking through the tension.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“You should go.” he said finally, his tone flat.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t argue. She gathered her things quickly, giving Doongie a quick scratch, the sound of her footsteps fading as the door closed behind her.

Minho sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. His gaze fell to the floor, and for the first time, he noticed the trail of damp footprints leading to the door- proof of your hurried escape.

You hadn’t even waited to hear him out.

He wanted to chase after you, to get an explanation for why you’d come in the first place.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood there in the silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on him; and he was stuck wondering how something you caused had now become a snowballed issue he needed to resolve.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You sat there frozen, the echo of his quiet, defeated tone playing on a loop in your mind. It wasn’t like him to leave like that- without a fight, without reassurance, without trying to smooth things over. He had always been one to want to ease conflict in the calmest manner.

Your eyes drifted to the coffee table where his phone sat, screen dark and mocking in the dim light. He must’ve forgotten it in his rush to leave, and the realization sent a pang of guilt straight to your chest. You couldn’t even call him to try and make things right.

With trembling hands, you picked up his phone, turning it over in your palm. It was a small, insignificant thing, but it felt like the only connection you still had to him.

The weight of Hyunjin’s text was heavier now, replaying in your mind like a cruel taunt.

He had planned to propose tonight.

And you had ruined it.

You pressed the phone to your chest, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. You couldn’t stop picturing the way his face had fallen, the light in his eyes dimming with every word you’d said. The warmth he carried with him, the energy that filled every room he walked into, was gone. And it made you feel terrible.

Your hands tightened around his phone as you leaned back on the couch, your thoughts spiraling. Changbin wasn’t just a boyfriend- he was your safe space, your biggest cheerleader, the person who always knew how to make you laugh when you wanted to cry.

And tonight, you had been the one to make him feel small.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. There was no way you could let things stay like this.

So, you got to work.

--

Changbin’s car coasted slowly down the street, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. His mind buzzed, replaying every moment of the evening- your harsh words, the hurt in his chest, and the sudden shift in the air between you two. He could still feel the weight of your gaze, and your frustration.

He had tried so hard.

Maybe it is my fault...

He wanted to make the night perfect, make it something to remember. A sweet cute, relaxed proposal. Soft and warm and everything that represented the love he had for you.

But now he was left uncertain, second-guessing everything. The familiar streets blurred as his thoughts swirled, mixing with the disappointment and confusion still lodged in his heart. His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

As he pulled into his driveway, he killed the engine but didn’t immediately move. He sat there for a while, the headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was cold, but he didn’t feel it. Instead, his chest was heavy, a knot of frustration and sorrow gnawing at him.

I need to apologize. Maybe then-

Reaching for his phone, he noticed a slight tremor in his hands.

Is that the best thing to do though...what if Y/N-ie is still mad...

He spent the next couple minutes thinking about texting you- even though he hadn’t done anything inherintantly wrong.

But the thought of sending an apology and admitting to a fault he didn’t deserve seemed like the easiest way to get things back to normal.

He swiped the phone screen on, but his stomach dropped when he saw his empty hand. He reached to pat his pockets.

He didn’t have his phone with him.

He trailed his eyes at the empty seat next to him, hoping maybe it was there, as the realization hit him harder than it should’ve.

His phone was still on the couch at your place. He must’ve left it there in the rush to get away.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, the frustration and anxiety rising again.

He shifted the car back into gear, pulling out of his driveway and heading back to your apartment. As he drove, he let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off the weight pressing on him.

He didn’t know what to expect when he saw you again. He didn’t even know what he wanted from the rest of this night.

Back at your place, you were busy, but not in the way you had planned. You paced the living room, biting your lip as you nervously looked over the decorations you had hastily thrown together. You had wanted everything to be perfect for him, the way he’d promised it would be tonight, but now… you were the one fixing things.

You were the one putting the final touches on a proposal- his proposal.

Your heart flipped over and over in your chest, as you adjusted things anxiously.

You had to scrounge through a ton of different leftover decorations from previous events and holidays; and it looked like the spirit of every celebratory occasion had thrown up over your living room.

You had tried so hard to get it right, to show him how sorry you were that your nerves and selfishness had ruined everything.

When you heard the distant rumble of his car approaching, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly fixed your hair and wiped your hands on your pants, as if trying to make up for everything all at once.

You hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through how you were going to apologize. You just knew you couldn’t let him walk away- couldn’t let him leave the night without fixing at least a small part of it.

The doorbell rang, and you froze, your pulse quickening in your throat.

You opened it, and there he was. Changbin. Standing there with an unreadable expression, his eyes flicking over your face before he looked down at the phone in his hand.

You didn't know if you imagined his red rimmed eyes.

“I-” he started, but the words faltered. He opened his mouth again, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. "I left my phone."

You handed it to him, and he stood there awkwardly turning it in his hands.

"Bin, come in," you whispered, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a long moment, his feet still on the other side of the threshold, as if he were debating whether to leave or stay. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty in his movements.

But then, with a deep sigh, he stepped inside.

You led him to the living room. His eyes stayed on the floor. He didn’t sit down, didn’t speak, just stood there.

"Y/N, I'm sor-"

"You don’t need to apologize," you said, voice barely audible as you walked toward him. You didn’t know how else to start. "I’m the one who messed up tonight. It wasn't you. It was all me."

Changbin shook his head, though it seemed like he was trying to process what he was feeling. He opened his mouth again, his voice hoarse. "No, it wasn't you. I…I didn’t mean for-"

"Changbin, don't fool yourself." You said with a sarcastic chuckle. "You know it was all my fault-"

"Y/N I was the one who was-"

"-I ruined your proposal. Of course it's my fault." You finished.

Your words stopped him. He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you.

"So you knew..." he murmured, his voice cracking just slightly.

"Hyunjin texted. I saw it on your screen."

Changbin sighed and then looked around, seeing the decorations.

"What..."

"Since I ruined your proposal I thought I could fix it. As an apology."

The air between you thickened suddenly.

"I-I know it's not the best or the prettiest, but I thought—"

His voice faltered as he looked up at you, eyes filled with something unreadable. Shock, confusion… and then something softer, something heavier.

"What…what did you do?"

You froze. Your heart pounded.

He was staring at everything—the decorations, the candles, the careful details meant for him to present to you.

"I thought… I'd throw something together," you repeated, your voice small. "To fix your proposal."

"Fix it?"

And in that moment, you realized just how wrong that had sounded.

"N-No! I meant fix the night. Not your proposal—nothing was wrong, I just—I ruined the moment, and—"

You were scrambling, desperate to explain.

"Binnie, I—"

"I understand, Y/N."

His quiet chuckle sent a chill through you. It wasn't warm, wasn't teasing. It was sad.

"You made another opportunity," he said, his voice steady but distant. "You set up a proposal."

"Yes! An opportunity, not-" But then you saw it. The rapid blinking, the slight shift in his expression. The way he swallowed hard, as if forcing down words he wouldn't let himself say.

And suddenly, it clicked.

He wasn't upset about your wording. He wasn't even upset that you'd tried to make things right. He was upset because you'd taken this from him. Because he had wanted to be the one to do this for you.

When you had called him clingy earlier, you had let your stressors guide you to insult what you loved most about him.

How he wanted to do everything for you.

His love language towards you always tended to be acts of service.

And while a proposal wasn't necessarily though, it made sense that he wanted to do this for you. One of the biggest acts of your two lives.

He wanted to gift it to you, and you took it away.

For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without another word, he stepped back. His hands curled into fists, then relaxed. He exhaled, gaze flickering between you and the scene you'd set. And then he turned.

You barely processed it as he walked past you, his presence fading with each step toward the door.

"Binnie, wait-"

But he didn't stop. The door opened, and before you could find the right words, the ones that wouldn't make everything worse—

It clicked shut.

——————————————————————————

Hyunjin

The moment Hyunjin you shut the door, you felt a wave of regret crash over you. You stewed in your regret for a while before you succumbed to it.

You couldn't stand it.

You rushed out the door, hoping to catch up; even if it had already a bit since his departure. But you knew him, and he probably hadn't made it far, taking his long legs for granted and dragging out his journey.

You wanted to stop him, to explain, to make him see what you couldn't say- but your pride had already built a wall too high. The words you had snapped at him stung, but there was a fear settling deep within you, too. Fear of rejection, fear of the misunderstanding spiraling out of control.

Fear of losing him from a quick yet grave mistake.

The street was quiet, and your footsteps echoed in the empty space. You turned the corner, but in your rush, you hadn't paid attention to where you were going.

It seemed you had taken one wrong turn after another, and suddenly the comforting glow of the familiar streetlights was replaced with unfamiliar darkness.

Panic rose in your chest. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you fumbled to pull it out, only for it to die before you could see.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, it died. Why wouldn't it? Your mind was foggy, and you could barely focus on anything, let alone figure out where you were. The tightness in your chest felt suffocating, but you pushed through it.

You wandered a little until you found a cute little convenience store, stepping inside, letting the warmth encapsulate you. You decided to grab a snack while you charged your phone, the clerk so graciously allowing you to charge it behind the desk.

You figured while you ate you could figure out what to say to Hyunjin, to mend whatever crack you had caused.

--

Meanwhile, Hyunjin still felt the sting of your words settled deep in his chest. His jaw clenched as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking briskly down the street.

It wasn’t fair. He had done nothing wrong, yet you had pushed him away like he was too much. Like his affection- his need to be close to you- was suffocating.

Me? Too much- HAH. As if.

You were just being bratty because you were in a bad mood...right?

I'm not actually too much am I?

And maybe it was dramatic, maybe it was childish, but he wanted you to chase after him. To call out his name, to grab his sleeve, to do something to prove you cared as much as he did.

But the street behind him remained quiet.

His throat tightened. His steps slowed.

You weren’t coming.

Hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. Fine. If you weren’t going to run after him, then you could suffer.

He would make you grovel, make you look at him with those wide, guilty eyes and apologize.

Beg a little. Then - only then - he’d pull you into his arms, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, and tell you it was okay.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he wanted.

To make things okay again.

With a sigh, he turned back around, heading toward your apartment, already playing out how he’d drag this out just enough to make you squirm before giving in.

But when he got to your door, his smirk faltered.

The lights were off, but the door was cracked.

His brows knitted together as he stepped into a completely empty home.

You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to be sitting inside, stewing in guilt, waiting for him to come back so you could apologize properly.

His fingers twitched as he opened your bedroom door. He went to the bathroom and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked, a little harder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of unease crept up his spine. He pulled out his phone and called. It rang twice before going straight to voicemail.

Hyunjin swallowed. His throat was dry.

His mind raced through every possibility. Maybe you just went out for air. Maybe you ran to the convenience store. Maybe-

But his gut told him otherwise.

His gut told him something was wrong.

His fingers curled around his phone, knuckles white as he sucked in a sharp breath. His frustration, his plan to make you beg, his need to be dramatic- all of it evaporated, replaced by one single, overwhelming thought.

He needed to find you.

Now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[scoupsakakitty]

Chapter 1: The Dream and The Distance

Being the 14th member of Seventeen wasn’t something y/n had planned for. Joining one of the biggest K-pop groups in the world felt like a dream and a nightmare wrapped into one. The stage, the screaming fans, the lights… it was everything she had worked for. But what no one told her was how hard it would be to keep everything else in her life together.

The rehearsal room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. She stood in front of the mirror, sweat dripping down her temple as she replayed the choreography in her head. Y/n was never one to settle for “just good enough.” As the lead dancer, every move had to be sharp, every line perfect.

“Take a break, y/n,” Dino said, walking up behind her with a towel around his neck. He was panting too, but unlike her, he had already accepted that they’d done enough for the day. “We’ve been at this for hours.”

Y/n turned to him, shaking her head. “Just a little more. I keep messing up the turn in the second chorus.”

“You’re not messing it up,” Dino said, rolling his eyes. “You’re overthinking it.”

She sighed, but before she could argue, their leader’s voice echoed through the room.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” Scoups said, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Go home, get some rest. We have a full schedule tomorrow.”

Y/n glanced at him through the mirror. Scoups always had this calm authority about him, a way of making everyone listen without raising his voice. She admired that about him, though she would never say it out loud.

As the other members began packing up their bags, y/n stayed behind for a moment longer. She was too tired to argue but too restless to leave just yet.

“You okay?” Scoups’ voice broke her thoughts. He was standing by the door, watching her with that careful gaze he always had.

She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need a minute.”

Scoups didn’t push. “Don’t stay too late,” he said before walking out with the others.

Once the room was empty, y/n let out a long breath and sat on the floor. She pulled out her phone, checking the time. Almost midnight.

Her finger hovered over her messages for a moment before opening the chat with Se-Hun. There were no new texts from him. The last message was from her, sent hours ago: Hope your classes went well today. I miss you.

No reply.

Biting her lip, she typed another message. Are you free this weekend? Maybe we can call for a bit? Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, I miss you.

She stared at the screen, waiting, but nothing came. The little “seen” indicator didn’t even pop up.————————————————————————————-Her mind wandered back to when she and Se-Hun first met. It was two years ago, during a particularly intense practice session. She’d pushed herself too hard, trying to nail a complicated move, and ended up twisting her ankle badly. The pain had been unbearable, and she’d been rushed to the hospital.

That’s where she met him.

He had been a young medical intern then, working late shifts in the ER. She remembered how calm and kind he was, even as she winced from the needle while he took her blood for tests.

“You don’t like needles?” he’d asked, noticing the way she squeezed her eyes shut.

“I hate them,” she admitted through gritted teeth.

He had smiled a small, lopsided grin that she still remembered to this day. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”

And he did. After that, they’d ended up talking while she waited for her X-ray results. He’d told her about his dream of becoming a doctor, and she had shyly shared things about her Idol life.

Something had clicked between them that night. He’d given her his number, and what started as a few texts quickly turned into hours-long conversations and eventually, a relationship.

But now, things were different. The connection they’d built felt like it was slipping through her fingers.————————————————————————————-The next morning, the members were gathered in the van, heading to a photoshoot. Y/n sat by the window, her head resting against the cool glass. Dino was next to her, scrolling through his phone and occasionally laughing at something he found funny. She envied how carefree he was.

“Did you sleep at all?” Mingyu asked from across the aisle.

Y/n blinked, realizing he was looking at her. “A little,” she lied.

He gave her a skeptical look but didn’t press further. That was the thing about Mingyu he always noticed when something was off, but he never pushed.————————————————————————————-The day passed in a blur of cameras, lights, and makeup. Y/n smiled when she was supposed to, posed when directed, and laughed along with the others during breaks. But her mind was elsewhere.

By the time they were back in the dorms, she was emotionally drained. She had just stepped into her room when her phone buzzed.

Finally.

She grabbed it quickly, seeing Se-Hun’s name on the screen.

Hey, sorry I’ve been busy. Classes have been crazy. Maybe next week?

Her heart sank. Next week? That wasn’t the first time he’d pushed her off.

I understand, she replied, even though she didn’t. Good luck with your classes.

She tossed her phone onto the bed and sat down, burying her face in her hands.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

She looked up to see Dino standing in her doorway. He always seemed to know when something was wrong.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile.

He didn’t buy it. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Y/n hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything—to spill out all the frustration and sadness that had been building up. But she couldn’t. Not now.

“I know,” she said softly. “Thanks, Dino.”

He gave her a small smile before leaving her alone.

————————————————————————————-

Later that night, the group gathered in the living room to watch a movie. Y/n sat between Dino and Mingyu, trying to focus on the screen, but her mind kept wandering. She glanced at Scoups, who was sitting across from her.

For a brief moment, their eyes met. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and something about it made her feel… safe.

It wasn’t much. Just a look. But it lingered in her mind long after the movie ended.

Reminder ~ You are perfect as you are. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 11 (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

*insert TikTok voice* Heyyyyyy, how y'all doin'? I disappeared for a while. I've been doing a lot of... for lack of a better word... healing. And a hell of a lot more working. But here is chapter 11, it's kind of filler but it took me like weeks of working on it off and on.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 1.6k+

This was so weird. You hadn’t heard from Bradley all day, even after leaving him a voicemail. He usually got back to you within a few hours or at least by the end of his work day. Your mom called you back before your lunch break ended, despite being disappointed that this meant you probably wouldn’t move back home anytime soon, she was happy that you’d have a change of pace. She asked about Bradley and assured you that he was probably just caught up in something important at work and would get back to you as soon as possible. As you went to clock out for the night, your phone vibrated in your pocket, an unknown number.

“Hello?” You answered.

“It’s Natasha,” Phoenix’s voice said sternly on the other end, “how’s he doing?”

“How’s who doing?”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, “that idiot didn’t call you. Did he?” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “What happened to Bradley?”

“Bird strike. He had to eject.”

“Can you please explain that in English before I lose my shit?” 

“Shit, sorry. A bird strikes when a plane collides with a bird, usually a flock of birds. When they fly into the engine, it can lead to malfunction and sometimes even a crash.” She explained.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, “Did he crash?!”

“No, he ejected from the plane and used his parachute. It’s just protocol that they go get checked out at the hospital. Even the safest ejections can still end with broken bones or concussions.”

“I’m headed down to the ED now,” You stated firmly.

Natasha chuckled, “If he’s not too beat up already, you should kick his ass for not calling you.”

You scoffed, “I’m tempted.”

You never ran through the hospital so fast in your life. You blew through the crowded waiting room, scanning, hoping that maybe Bradley was sitting out there waiting. Based on the laws of triage, being in the waiting area is actually a good thing. Your pulse increased even more when you didn’t see him and you badged yourself in, heading to the nurse’s station.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you choked out, “Is Bradley Bradshaw here?”

A cute nurse that had obviously only stopped moving to take a 2 second water break called out from behind the secretary, “He’s in CT but he should be back shortly.”

“I’m his… girlfriend.” You said uneasily since it was the first time you’d actually referred to yourself as that out loud.

The nurse smiled, “Ah, he said you work here and hadn’t called you. I had a feeling you’d find him anyways. You can wait for him in bay 15.”I

“Thank you…” you looked down and scanned her badge, “… Jenny.”

You made your way to the empty examination area behind the curtain. Everything seemed to be in its place, all that was missing was a stretcher. A put together room was always a good sign. You couldn’t help but pace back and forth as you waited for him to get back. Based on everything you saw and heard from his nurse, Bradley was most likely fine but you couldn’t let yourself believe that until you saw him for yourself.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called out.

You whipped around to see Bradley being rolled back into the room on a stretcher. Besides the bandage across his forehead, he was completely intact.

“Who told you I was here?!” He asked, “I didn’t want to bother you after a long day of work.”

You waited until the transport personnel exited the room before talking, “A little bird and she told me I should kick your ass.” Despite your relief, you were still fucking pissed.

“Phoenix?”

You nodded, “And I sure am glad she did ‘bother’ me after a long day of work. Bradley, I didn’t hear from you all day long, I was already worried. If Nat hadn’t called me and I had gone home for the night, I would have continued to worry myself sick!”

Bradley sighed and laid his head back against the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

A familiar sting of tears started in your eyes, “When were you planning on telling me you ejected yourself from a fucking plane, Bradshaw?!” 

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know.” He seemed hesitant.

You sat at the edge of his bed, “Whatever it is… you can tell me.”

“I’ve just…” He turned away slightly, unable to look you in the eye, “I’ve never had someone to call before.”

His words stopped you dead. It had never occurred to you, he wasn’t used to having someone to call when something happened. No parents, no siblings, all of his friends were in his squad, so they always knew.

“It sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud.” He swallowed hard.

You reached out and gave his knee a loving squeeze, “Well, now you do. This is your ‘get out of jail free card’.”

He placed his hand over yours, “I’m sorry.”

You wiped away a few stray tears, “Don’t let it happen again.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

To Bradley’s surprise, Y/N stayed with him until he was discharged from the emergency room around 10pm. He had a concussion, two cracked ribs, and a couple stitches in his forehead. Not too bad for a bird strike.

Y/N had gone to get her car from the employee garage to pick him up at the entrance, despite his initial protests. Bradley made the very wise decision to drop it and let her help him, he couldn’t stand to see her as upset as she was when she first saw him. It hadn’t even occurred to him to call her and let her know he got hurt, he was so used to dealing with the dangers of his job on his own. Seeing her so scared and tearful hurt him more than the rib fractures and concussion ever could.

When Y/N texted him that she was pulling around to the front of the emergency room, he saw that he also had a missed call and voicemail from her at about two in the afternoon. Her old silver sedan pulled up, she parked and got out to help him get in the car.

“Y/N, I got it.” Bradley groaned through the pain.

She ignored him and held his arms so that he could slowly sit down in the passenger’s seat, “Easy does it.”

She reached across him to buckle his seat belt and he chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m broken Y/N. With you reaching across me… looking so good in those scrub pants… I’m not sure if I could control myself.”

“You’re a goofus.” She scoffed but made sure to give him a small peck on the cheek before closing the passenger door and walking around the car to the driver’s side and climbing in.

Bradley short circuited for a moment, “A goofus? Like a goofy doofus?”

Y/N shrugged, not taking your eyes off the road as they drove away from the hospital, “I’m not sure what I meant to say… honestly, I’m so sleepy all of my words are jumbling together.”

“Aw, honey…” he sighed, “pull over… let me drive.”

“Absolutely not! You had a dose of morphine in the ED, you can’t drive!”

He looked over and gave her a goofy grin, “I love it when you get all smart and passionate and medical.”

She shook your head, trying to hide the fact that his loving words made her flustered, “I need to get your ass home so I can get my ass home.”

Stand and Deliver by Patrick Droney played quietly in the background, the lyrics feeling ever so appropriate.

"Won't drown in the river, I'll swim out to you. I'll stand and deliver, I'll carry you through. If you lose all the meaning of life, love, and truth; I'll stand and deliver, I'll show up for you."

“Sleep at my house.” he reached over and placed a warm palm on her thigh, “Please.”

She didn’t even have the energy to fight him, it had been too long of a day, “Okay.”

Bradley didn’t allow Y/N to act as his nurse anymore that night. He insisted that she was off the clock and needed to go to bed. That last thing he wanted to do was add to her stress and burn out. In the morning, he woke up feeling as though he had been hit by a train. Yes, the majority of his pain was around his ribs but he had the slightest headache too. He looked over to see Y/N next to him, dead asleep on her side, breathing deeply, mouth slightly open, with a little trickle of drool escaping her mouth onto the pillow. A warmth grew in his chest, he was so happy to see someone who worked so hard finally at rest. He didn’t dare make any sudden moves or noises that could wake her up.  He reached over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table, there was a text from Y/N around 3am… What the hell?

Y/N: I forgot to tell you before we went to bed. Take 2 Tylenol every 8 hours for the headache and 3 ibuprofen every 6 hours for the body aches

He looked over at her sleeping body and studied her a little more closely, only to realize she fell asleep with her phone in her hand. Poor thing must’ve sent the text and then knocked right back out. Bradley, slowly, carefully and quietly maneuvered himself out of bed. He checked to make sure all was clear and Y/N was still snoozing away and it was a success. He gently took her phone from her hand and placed it on the table by her side of the bed, plugging it into the charger that permanently lived there, just for her. She let out a peaceful hum, turned her body towards his side of the bed and buried her face into his pillow. It took everything in his power for him not to listen to his instincts, bury his face into her neck and give her sweet kisses until she woke up. Maybe later. For now, his sweet girl needed sleep.

Tag list:

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[bluebirdinhissky]

A best friend’s duty is to make sure there’s something you can eat.

Hyunjin x reader.

Bird notes: This was inspired by Seollal celebrations, though it’s a bit before that. Reminder that Y/N is not korean and is also older than Hyunjin. Thanks for reading!.

[Masterlist]

Hyunjin sat on the couch, phone in hand, staring at his mom’s contact name on the screen. He had been meaning to call her for the past hour, but every time he hovered his thumb over the dial button, he hesitated.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. He was just inviting his best friend to spend Seollal with them. He had already told his parents about her before, just little things in passing. How she was Hannah’s best friend, how she lived with them, how she painted with him sometimes and played video games with Felix and Seungmin. His mom knew her name, had asked about her a few times, had even teased him when he spoke about her too much, but there was one thing he hadn’t told them: the age gap.

Fourteen years wasn’t nothing.

And even though he genuinely didn’t care, even though it didn’t make a difference to him, he had no idea how his parents would react. Would they think it was weird?, would they assume there was something between them?. He hadn’t even confessed his feelings to her yet, but what if his mom noticed their playful flirting and started getting ideas and made things awkward?. Hyunjin let out a slow breath, ruffling a hand through his hair. He was overthinking. He just had to get it over with. With a final, deep inhale, he pressed call and held the phone to his ear. It rang twice before his mom’s voice answered.

“Hyunjinnie!”

“Hey, Mom.” He smiled despite his nerves.

“You’re calling earlier than usual! Are you on a break?”

“Yeah, just at home,” he said, shifting to stretch his legs across the couch. “How are you and dad?”

“We’re good! Your dad’s outside playing with Kkami”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Hyunjin chuckled.

“So, what’s up? You don’t usually call in the middle of the day.”

Hyunjin bit his lip. Here we go.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” he started carefully. “About Seollal.”

“Oh?” His mom sounded intrigued. “You’re still coming home, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I just… I was wondering if I could bring someone with me.”

A beat of silence.

“Someone?”

Hyunjin closed his eyes. He could already hear the teasing smile in her voice.

“Not like that, Mom.” He sighed.

“Mmm,” she hummed knowingly. “So who is it, then?”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Ohh,” his mom said, clearly recognizing the name. “Your best friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Hyunjin frowned.

“I mean, why is she spending Seollal with us? Isn’t she going to her family?”

He hesitated for a second before answering, “No, mom. Remember she’s not Korean and her family isn’t here. And Hannah is spending it with Changbin’s family.”

His mom was quiet for a moment. “So she was just going to be alone?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said softly. “And I didn’t think that was okay. Seollal is a family holiday, but she doesn’t have anyone here. I just thought… if it’s okay with you and dad, maybe she could come with me?”

His mom exhaled. “Of course it’s okay.”

Relief flooded through him. “Really?”

“Of course,��� she repeated, her voice warm. “That’s very sweet of you, Hyunjin. I wouldn’t want her to be alone either. You know you didn’t even have to ask, right?”

He smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

“She must be special if you’re inviting her home,” his mom mused. “I’ve been waiting to meet her ever since you mention her. A lot”

Hyunjin froze. Here we go.

“I do talk about her a lot, huh?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, you definitely do.” His mom laughed. “Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

“Mom.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

“Yes, we’re just friends,” he said firmly, though his heart felt a little heavy because he knew he wanted to be more than just “Best friends.”

His mom sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I won’t tease. But I am excited to meet her.”

Hyunjin swallowed, the weight of what he still had to say pressing down on him. He had to tell her now.

“Actually, there’s something else I should probably mention before you actually meet her,” he said carefully.

“Oh?” His mom hummed in curiosity.

He hesitated. “She’s… older than me.”

“That’s fine. A couple of years isn’t a big deal.” His mom didn’t sound the least bit surprised.

Hyunjin winced.

“…Mom, she’s fourteen years older.”

Silence.

Hyunjin held his breath, bracing himself.

“…Fourteen?” his mom finally repeated, her tone unreadable.

“Yeah.”

Another pause. “Huh.”

That was it. Just a little huh.

“…Is that a problem?” Hyunjin asked cautiously.

His mom exhaled. “No, I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

He let out the breath he had been holding. “So you’re okay with it?”

“Of course,” she said. “I don’t see why it would be an issue.”

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you.”

His mom laughed lightly. “You sound nervous. Were you really that worried about what we’d think?”

“…A little.”

“Hyunjin,” she said, her voice softer now. “You know we trust you. If she’s your best friend, then we’ll welcome her just the same. Her age doesn’t change that.”

He smiled, warmth spreading in his chest. “You’re the best, mom.”

“I know,” she said playfully. “And tell Y/N not to be nervous when she meets us. We’re not scary.”

Hyunjin grinned. “I’ll let her know.”

“Good. Now go enjoy the rest of your day. And tell Y/N we’re looking forward to seeing her!”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

As he hung up, Hyunjin let out a long, deep breath. That had gone way better than he expected.

Now all that was left was to convince her that everything would be fine.

*Later that evening*

Hyunjin sat on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, his mind elsewhere.

She was in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a cup of coffee. She had been quieter than usual that night, though she still smiled at his jokes, still nudged his foot with hers under the table, still met his gaze in that way that made his chest tighten just a little too much for comfort. But there was something else, something lingering in the way she exhaled when she thought he wasn’t looking, in the way she stared out the window as if lost in thought.

Hyunjin didn’t like it. It reminded him of the first couple of weeks after she arrived to Seoul, when she was just “Hannah’s friend”, when she arrived there with a broken heart, her eyes sad and filled with feeling of being alone and unworthy or unwanted. He suspected though, that this look was because she was going to “inevitably” spend holidays alone.

He set his phone aside and leaned back against the couch, watching as she walked toward him with her mug in hand. She curled up on the other end of the couch, tucking her feet beneath her, fingers wrapped around the warmth of her cup.

“Are you really spending the holiday alone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She blinked, looked startled for a second, then gave a small, almost sheepish nod. “Yeah. It’s a family thing, isn’t it?, Hannah is the closest thing to a family but she’s not going to be here, so…” She trailed off with a small shrug, lifting the mug to her lips.

“You don’t have to be alone.” Hyunjin frowned. The thought of her being alone while everyone else celebrated didn’t sit right with him.

“What, should I crash someone’s family gathering?” She let out a quiet chuckle, setting her mug down on the coffee table.

“Yes. Mine.”

The words left his mouth before he could fully think them through, he had planned to be more subtle about the invitation.

“Hyunjin…” Her eyes widened slightly.

“I already told them,” he cut in, sensing her hesitation. He shifted, turning to face her more fully. “My parents. I told them I wanted to bring you.”

She stared at him, processing, her fingers tightening slightly around her mug. “You… what?”

“I told them about you. That we’re best friends, and that I didn’t want you to be alone during Seollal. They said they’d love to have you over.” He studied her face carefully, noting the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “So come with me.”

“Hyunjin, I…” She hesitated, biting her lower lip, and he recognized that look instantly: nervousness.

“What’s stopping you?” he asked, softer this time.

She exhaled, shifting under his gaze. “It’s just… I don’t know. I mean, I’m not korean, and I’m older than you, and I don’t want them to think it’s weird that we’re best friends. What if they…”

“They don’t care,” he interrupted, voice firm. “Trust me. They already like you, and they haven’t even met you yet.”

“How can they like me already?” She blinked again, surprised.

“Because I talk about you all the time.” Hyunjin shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You do not.” Her cheeks flushed, and she rolled her eyes, but he caught the way she tried to hide her smile.

“I do,” he countered.

“Really?” She looked at him like she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.

“Really,” he confirmed.

She fell silent, biting the inside of her cheek as she considered it. Hyunjin knew her well enough to see the conflict in her mind, the part of her that wanted to accept, and the part of her that was overthinking every possible reason why she shouldn’t.

“Come on. Do you really want to stay here all by yourself while everyone else is celebrating?” He nudged her knee lightly with his.

“No…” She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Then it’s decided,” he said, grinning. “We’ll leave early in the morning the day before Seollal. My mom already said she’d prepare extra food since I told her you don’t like certain dishes.”

“You told her what I don’t like to eat?” Her brows shot up.

“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t tell my mom you’re pickier than me when it comes to food?”

“Hyunjin…” She narrowed her eyes, clearly trying to suppress a smile.

“What?” He feigned innocence, leaning in slightly. “Admit it. You’d eat something you don’t like only to be polite”

“I would not.” She scoffed, but her blush deepened, betraying her.

“You so would,” he teased. “You’d sit there pretending to enjoy it while just swallowing things without even chewing. I’m not going to risk you choking, again”

“I hate you.” She shook her head, laughing.

“You don’t. And you’re coming with me to eat delicious dishes,” he pointed out, tilting his head. “Right?”

“…Right.” She exhaled slowly, but this time, there was no more hesitation.

Hyunjin grinned in triumph, feeling warmth spread through his chest at her answer. “Good. Because I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer anyway.”

She rolled her eyes again, but this time, when she looked at him, there was something softer in her gaze, something that made his heartbeat stutter for just a second. Hyunjin looked away first, clearing his throat. “Anyway. My mom’s gonna love you. Probably more than she loves me.”

“I doubt that.” She laughed, shaking her head.

“You’ll see.” He smirked. “By the time we leave, she might ask you to be her daughter.”

“I don’t think I’m young enough to be her daughter .” She smiled, taking another sip of her coffee.

Hyunjin groaned and laughed as he watched her, something in his chest tightened again, an unspoken feeling lingering in the space between them.

Yeah, his heart was getting impatient and for a moment he feared he might kiss her. Soon, he thought. Soon enough.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Feveruary 2025 1) “How did you end up like this?”

“How did you end up like this?”

Reporter wasn’t ready to answer. She lied on the floor, still in her pajamas, having made a valiant but ultimately unsuccessful effort to open the door. Villain sighed, turning her on the side. There was no wound and she was still conscious. Struggling to breathe, she blinked and finally succeeded to open her eyes:

“Hi,” she mumbled. “Fix it?”

Villain hadn’t waited for her approval. Their hands raised over her body, they were staring at something that for the others would have been an emptiness. What they saw just above her was a delicate blue web glistening in the air, full of tiny knots, representing her vital energy. Something wasn’t right. With a gentle but firm touch, they grabbed a gray knot. Reporter yelped in pain, but she winked at them:

“Long story.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Fortunately, we have time.”

They saw her eyes flickering nervously. They unmade the knot. She shivered.

“Haven’t we?” they insisted.

She turned her head away:

“I think I’ve been poisoned. It’s been hours since that dinner and it’s getting worse. Is that bad?”

Villain looked at the series of gray knots in front of them.

“Nothing that I can’t fix,” they said darkly, grabbing another.

“When can I move again?”

“I don’t know. What dinner? What happened?”

She smiled:

“You know. Trouble. Hero invited me and offered – ouch – they offered me the opportunity to interview them instead of investigating on you, because no one was interested in that.”

“And?”

“I told them where they could stick it. Not my exact words, but – ouch – that was the spirit.”

“It seems weird that they would kill you for that.”

Reporter shook her head impatiently:

“I think they want to see if you’ll save me or not. To see if I’m compromised.”

“Ah.”

They instinctively looked around, but there was no Hero or Sidekick around. Reporter, who had caught their gaze, made a face:

“I’m not a snitch.”

They met her eyes. Although she still looked weak, her gaze seemed a little more focused.

“I guess you really want this investigation made, uh?”

They nodded, their jaw set:

“I do.”

“Ah. It’s nice to hear appreciation. Bit rare this day. So, I guess you won’t mind if you’d let me crash at your place.”

Their hands froze in the air.

“What?”

“If you still want me alive, that is.”

“But-”

“No but! Besides, that’s the only way to keep my investigation going. Villains kidnap Citizens, am I right?”

They exchanged a look. Villain groaned. Even on the ground, Reporter found a way to look smug.

“Fine,” they mumbled. “But you’ll stay in the guest bedroom.”

“Deal,” lied Reporter.

[clarabowmp3]

If you want to go and be stupid (make me wait in a car for an hour and a half knowing I haven’t had lunch or the bubble tea we had agreed on AND that I have a history of being dehydrated to the point of passing out) don’t do it in front of me (drag me along just cuz YOU want to meet your old professor)

[every-sanji]

[jorvikzelda]

adding this to the list of Severely fucking stupid absrad deaths

BUT!! (under cut so as to not Clog)

we fucking got there in the end baby

(did a couple tries for radiant, then was Swept Away by the Migraine. We’ll get there.)

[arolesbianism]

There's a well 🎉

[yoohyeon]

It’s midnight my parents have been to the hospital since 3pm-before 4pm and my dad still hasn’t seen a doctor 😭 My dad and his legendary patience wanted to go home but for once my mom convince him to stay AND eat, I hope they will call him soon 😭

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

They can clearly see my straw man corporation is not for profit.

All my funds go toward buying my children shit they don't necessarily need, but I try to do better for them then I was done for.

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[fortunefavorsthebrave-dude]

saw furiosa it was. a movie.

[digitaldiseas3]

can't tell if i'm like... starting to dislike these girls because im pmsing and that's pretty typical for me to suddenly not like certain people, or if it's genuinely because they've been giving me weird fucking vibes and did smth i think was shitty :/