#and she really liked it and said it made her want to go to sleep

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

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

@daydreamerwoah

[shdysders]

no one noticed

pairing: jenna ortega & female reader

summary: in which you fly across the country to surprise jenna, holding onto the hope that things will go back to the way they were.

word count: 6.0k

author’s note: no one noticed - the marias

You couldn't tell when it had all started.

You didn't even know what it was.

All you knew was that it wasn't like it used to be.

Jenna used to notice everything. It was the way her gaze would linger a little longer than anyone else's, searching your face like it held all the answers.

She'd catch the smallest changes in your mood, the tiniest cracks in the facade you showed the world.

No one else noticed those things—not when you were quieter than usual, not when your smile didn't quite reach your eyes—but Jenna always did. She'd tilt her head, her brow furrowing in that way that meant she was piecing together a puzzle, and ask softly what was wrong.

It wasn't just your emotions she picked up on. It was everything. The way she'd notice when you'd changed your perfume, leaning closer and smiling as if it were her favorite secret.

Or how she'd spot the faintest smudge of eyeliner you'd tried to wipe away, running her thumb gently along your cheek without a word.

You hadn't even realized how much it had meant to you at the time, the way she saw you in ways no one else did. How she made you feel like you were someone worth noticing.

It had been effortless for her, her attention so natural and constant that you never had to ask for it. You'd be talking about something insignificant—some show you'd watched, something you'd read online—and she'd interrupt with a soft laugh, telling you how your eyes lit up when you were excited. She'd make you feel seen in a way that no one ever had, as if every little thing about you was worth treasuring.

Jenna had always been the person who noticed, even when no one else did.

So when that started to change, you wondered if it was all in your head.

At first, it felt small—just a few moments here and there that you could shrug off. Like when you'd been quiet during a phone call, and Jenna didn't pause to ask if something was wrong. Or when she'd missed the faint tremor in your voice, something she'd once been able to pick up on like a second language.

You told yourself it wasn't a big deal, that you were overthinking. But then it started happening more often. Little things piled up until they didn't feel so little anymore.

Still, you didn't want to blame her. Instead, you turned it on yourself, convincing yourself that you were imagining it. That you were making something out of nothing.

Maybe you'd just grown too used to her attention, you thought. Too dependent on the way she always noticed things no one else did. You felt almost ashamed for needing that kind of validation, for craving it the way you did.

There were nights when you couldn't sleep, lying awake and wondering if you'd lost your mind. You told yourself that she hadn't changed, that you were the problem—that you'd become hypersensitive, searching for cracks that weren't really there.

And since no one else seemed to notice it, you couldn't help but feel like you were wrong. Like you'd made it all up.

Jenna still said the right things sometimes. She still asked how you were, still smiled at you like you were her whole world when you were 'together'. But it didn't feel the same. There was a distance now, subtle but unmistakable, like a thin layer of glass separating you.

You told yourself that if no one else could see it, then it couldn't possibly be real. But deep down, you knew.

You knew, even if you couldn't admit it to yourself yet.

You'd told yourself over and over that things would get better.

Every time Jenna's name flashed across your screen, every time you saw her face smiling at you through a grainy video call, you felt that flicker of hope. She'd always say the right things—how much she missed you, how she couldn't wait to see you again. For a moment, you'd believe her.

But then the call would end, and you'd be left staring at your reflection on the dark screen, feeling emptier than before.

It was getting old, this routine of clinging to a connection that didn't feel real anymore. The virtual version of Jenna wasn't enough—it never was. You didn't want to see her through a screen; you wanted her here, next to you, holding you, laughing with you, noticing you.

But instead, you sat alone in the silence of your room, waiting for a text that might not come.

There were moments when you hated yourself for feeling this way. For needing her so much. You tried to rationalize it, telling yourself she was busy, that her work demanded more of her time now. You knew she wasn't doing it on purpose—but that didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.

You'd catch yourself staring at your phone, half-hoping she'd call, half-hoping she wouldn't, because you didn't know if you could stand hearing her voice and still feeling so far away.

The distance wasn't just physical anymore. It was in every text that felt shorter than it used to, in the FaceTime calls where her eyes darted off-screen as if she had somewhere else to be. You'd thought, more than once, about asking her why she always looked like she was about to disappear. But you never did.

You'd told yourself it was because of work.

She loved what she did, and you loved that for her. How could you not? She'd always dreamed of it, always thrown herself into it with a passion that had drawn you to her in the first place. So, of course, she was busy. Of course, there were long days, packed schedules, and late nights. You'd whispered those words to yourself so often they became a mantra.

She's not ignoring you. She's just busy.

You told yourself that was the reason for the less frequent texts, the shorter calls, the way her replies came hours later now—sometimes not at all. It was work. It had to be. And you couldn't blame her for it. You wouldn’t blame her for it.

But that didn't make it any easier to bear.

It was getting old—lying awake in bed, phone clutched in your hand, fighting the pull of sleep just in case she'd call. Some nights, you didn't even know what you were waiting for. The sound of her voice? The comfort of knowing she was thinking of you? It never felt like enough.

And yet you kept waiting, night after night, feeling the ache of loneliness settle deeper into your chest.

You used to think you were strong, that you could handle the distance because it wasn't permanent, not really. But now, you weren't so sure. You felt yourself slipping, losing the ability to pretend everything was fine.

Maybe you'd lost it.

Maybe you were losing it—overanalyzing, clinging too tightly, wanting too much.

It wasn't like you could explain it to anyone else either. Nobody else saw what you did. Nobody else noticed how the little things were falling apart. So maybe you'd imagined it all.

And yet, lying there alone, staring at the darkened screen of your phone, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it wasn't just work.

It was something else.

You felt awful for even thinking it. The thought alone was enough to make your stomach churn and your chest tighten with guilt. But sometimes, late at night when the silence felt too heavy, the whispers in your mind grew too loud to ignore.

What if Jenna had found someone else?

She'd been gone for months now, busy with filming, constantly surrounded by new faces, sharing spaces and moments with people you didn't know and couldn't see. You knew it wasn't fair to think that way. She was away for work, doing what she loved. But still, the idea crept in like a shadow you couldn't chase away.

What if she'd found someone who could give her the things you couldn't? Someone who could be there for her in ways you weren't able to, offering physical comfort while you were hundreds of miles away?

You hated yourself for even entertaining the thought. It felt like a betrayal of her trust, an insult to everything you shared. Jenna wasn't like that. She wouldn't do that. But still, the ache of doubt lingered.

So instead, you turned the blame inward.

Maybe you were the problem.

Maybe this was all in your head, some twisted fabrication of a restless mind desperate for attention and reassurance. Maybe you were losing it—grasping at straws and creating problems where there weren't any. Or worse, maybe Jenna really was pulling away because of you.

Maybe you were too clingy, too needy, too pushy. Maybe she'd grown tired of the late-night calls, of your questions about her day, of you trying to hold onto something that felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

You'd lie awake in bed, turning those thoughts over and over until your chest felt tight and your eyes burned with tears you refused to let fall.

But you couldn't let yourself think that way. You couldn't let yourself spiral.

So you shoved it all down—every fear, every doubt, every whispered insecurity. You buried it beneath forced smiles and reassuring words, convincing yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You'd wait for her call, for her text, for any sign that things were still okay.

You had to believe it was just work.

Because the alternative would break you.

It made sense to keep it to yourself too. You avoided bringing it up—not to family, not to friends, and certainly not to Jenna. What would be the point? You'd perfected the art of acting like everything was fine, pasting on a smile that didn't falter even when your chest felt tight and your head felt heavy with unspoken worries.

Around others, you acted normal. You laughed when you were supposed to, nodded when the conversation called for it, and deflected any questions that veered too close to how you were really feeling. Because, in the end, nobody could read your eyes.

Nobody even tried.

Nobody but Jenna.

At least, that's how it used to be. Once, she'd been the only one who could see through the cracks in your facade. She could look at you and know instantly when something was wrong, even when no one else had a clue. She wouldn't even have to ask; she just knew. It was something you'd always loved about her—that quiet attentiveness, the way she cared so deeply and effortlessly.

But now, it didn't feel that way anymore.

There was no point in letting the cracks show, no point in spilling everything when it felt like she wouldn't notice, or worse, that she didn't want to. So you kept it buried, tucked away behind your smiles and your carefully constructed responses.

You wished it weren't true. You wished you could believe she still saw you the way she once did. That she still noticed the things no one else did. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, that belief became harder and harder to hold onto.

And you hated yourself for it. For doubting her. For doubting what you had. For doubting the one person who had once been your constant.

It wasn't like you had proof. Nothing you were feeling, none of the doubts gnawing at the back of your mind, were confirmed to be true. That's what made it worse—the uncertainty of it all. You were acting like everything was fine, smiling through conversations and going about your days like you weren't slowly unraveling inside, but the truth was, you didn't even know what you were holding back anymore.

You didn't know if Jenna really was pulling away, or if you were just imagining it. You didn't know if the long silences and the hurried calls were a sign of something deeper, or just a product of her busy schedule. You didn't know if it was you, if maybe you'd been too needy, too much, or if it was something entirely out of your control.

And yet, you were pretending like you were fine. Around family, friends, even Jenna during the few moments you got to speak to her, you tried your best to act normal. Because if you couldn't even be sure of how you felt—if you couldn't even figure out what was real and what wasn't—then how could you explain it to anyone else?

It was easier to push it down, to keep the doubts and the worries locked up where no one could see them. Easier to smile and nod and go through the motions than to let anyone in on how you were really feeling.

Because deep down, you knew there was no point. Nobody had ever tried to read you, not really. Nobody but Jenna.

And that was what scared you the most. Because if she wasn't noticing now, maybe she never would.

Nothing about this felt right. The distance between you and Jenna was like a heavy fog, clouding every thought, every action, every word. Should you ask her about it? Should you speak up, lay everything bare, and risk hearing what you were most afraid of?

It felt like the logical choice, the brave thing to do, but even the thought of it made your chest tighten. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she told you it was over, or worse—that she hadn't even noticed anything was wrong?

But keeping quiet didn't feel right either. Pretending you didn't feel the cracks widening between you, ignoring the ache of unanswered questions, felt like a betrayal to yourself. And yet, every time you tried to muster the courage to bring it up, something held you back.

The words would sit on the tip of your tongue, heavy and unspoken, while you sat in silence. You didn't know what to do, caught in this limbo where every decision felt wrong.

And maybe that was why you kept spiraling—because the loneliness of it all was unbearable. Lying in bed at night, staring at the empty space beside you, the silence felt deafening.

You tried to convince yourself it was fine, that this was normal, but the truth was that loneliness had a way of magnifying everything.

Every little doubt, every unanswered text, every distant call felt like another brick in the wall building between you.

You hated how much you overanalyzed everything, how your mind wouldn't let you rest. Every time your phone vibrated, you'd hold your breath, hoping it was her.

Every time it wasn't, your heart sank a little further. The quiet ate away at you, and the more time passed, the more you felt like you were the only one fighting to bridge the gap.

But forcing her wasn't an option either. It didn't feel right to demand more of her, to pull her into a conversation she didn't seem ready to have.

If you confronted her, if you said everything you'd been holding inside, what would happen? Would she tell you that you were right, that she'd already started to drift away?

Would she admit there was someone else, someone who could give her the kind of presence and attention you couldn't?

You couldn't bring yourself to think about it, let alone ask. If she wasn't yours in the way she used to be, you didn't want to know.

The idea of forcing her to stay, of begging her for something she wasn't willing to give freely, felt wrong in every sense. And yet, the thought of losing her entirely was unbearable.

So instead, you clung to the hope that time would fix it. If you didn't say anything, maybe things would fall back into place on their own. Maybe Jenna just needed space, time to navigate her busy schedule, and she'd eventually find her way back to you.

If you waited, if you were patient enough, maybe she'd realize what she had with you and want to hold onto it again.

But the waiting was agony. The longer you stayed silent, the more it felt like you were watching the clock, counting the minutes until something changed—or until it was too late. Time was supposed to heal things, wasn't it?

So why did it feel like the more time passed, the more everything unraveled?

There were moments when the thought crept in, uninvited and unwelcome: What if Jenna was pulling away because she was leaving? It lingered at the edges of your mind, whispering possibilities you didn't want to believe.

The way her replies had become shorter, her texts less frequent, the way her calls felt rushed, like she couldn't wait to hang up. Was it just the stress of her work, or was she trying to create distance before breaking things off completely?

It felt absurd, cruel even, to think that way about her. But those doubts had a way of twisting everything, making every interaction feel like a confirmation of your worst fears.

Still, you clung to one fragile belief: it couldn't be that easy for her. Jenna wasn't the kind of person to let go without a fight. She wasn't the kind of person to give up on something she cared about.

And wasn't she still calling, even if less often? Wasn't she still texting, even if her words felt half-hearted? Surely, if she wanted to leave, she wouldn't be holding onto these threads of connection.

Surely, she couldn't just walk away from everything you'd built together. It wasn't that simple—was it?

It can't be that easy.

But even as you thought it, the uncertainty lingered. Because sometimes, it was easier to leave quietly, to let things fade without confrontation.

And what if that's what she was doing? What if she was pulling away so subtly that by the time you noticed, it would already be too late?

You didn't know what scared you more—the possibility that Jenna was leaving or the thought that, deep down, she might already be gone.

You didn't know what scared you more—the possibility that Jenna was leaving or the thought that, deep down, she might already be gone. The uncertainty clawed at you, feeding off the spaces between her words, the silences that stretched just a little too long.

Every time you hung up the phone, you'd sit there, staring at the darkened screen, trying to convince yourself that you were imagining things. That there was no way she could leave without a word.

But then she mentioned it. Casually, like it wasn't supposed to mean anything at all.

"We just wrapped the last scenes today. I'll be flying home soon," she said one night, her voice smooth and even. It was the sort of news that should've lit up your entire world, something that should've made you count the days until she walked through the door again.

But as much as you wanted to believe her, there was something in the way she said it that didn't sit right.

Her smile—soft, rehearsed—didn't reach her eyes. Her voice carried the right notes, hitting every expected beat, but none of it felt real. Not the way it used to.

She said she couldn't wait to see you, to hold you, to console you after being apart for so long, but it sounded like a line from one of her scripts—memorized, polished, and distant.

And the way her eyes darted away from the camera only added to the weight in your chest. You watched as her attention flickered to something else, something out of reach—a notification, a script, maybe just the corner of the room she was sitting in. It didn't matter what it was. What mattered was that it wasn't you.

She looked like she was about to disappear, like she couldn't wait to hang up.

The thought clung to you, sharp and unrelenting. You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the version of Jenna who used to make you feel like the center of her universe. But that Jenna was slipping through your fingers, one short call at a time.

Still, you smiled through it. You nodded when she said she'd be home soon, when she promised things would feel better once she was back. You told her you couldn't wait, forcing enthusiasm into your voice even though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

What else could you do? Confront her? Push her to say something she might not even be ready to admit? You didn't know if you were prepared to hear the answer, especially if it confirmed the worst of your fears.

So you kept quiet. You waited, holding onto the hope that maybe this time, when she walked through the door, she'd prove you wrong. That she'd wrap you in her arms and make you feel like everything was okay again.

But that hope, thin as it was, didn't erase the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It didn't stop you from replaying her words over and over, searching for something that wasn't there.

And deep down, you knew—this time wasn't like every other time.

And deep down, you knew—this time wasn't like every other time. But that didn't stop you from trying to convince yourself otherwise.

If she was coming home, maybe things could go back to how they used to be. Maybe the woman who noticed every small detail, who could read your emotions before you even knew how to name them, was still there. You clung to that possibility, desperate for it to be true. It felt like your last thread of hope, fragile and fraying, but still holding on.

Unable to sit in your spiraling thoughts any longer, you booked a flight to her city. It wasn't a decision you made lightly—flights weren't cheap, and it wasn't like you had money to throw away.

But logic didn't matter anymore. You told yourself it was worth it, that seeing her in person, surprising her as she was about to board her flight home, would make her remember what you had. It was reckless, maybe even unnecessary, but you didn't care.

You told yourself it was about the surprise. Showing up unannounced at the airport, catching her before she stepped on the plane home—it felt romantic in a way that you hadn't felt in months. A grand gesture to prove, not only to Jenna but to yourself, that there was still something worth fighting for.

If she saw you there, waiting for her at the airport before she even boarded her flight home, maybe it would remind her of what you had. Maybe it would remind her of the love that had once felt so natural, so easy.

You weren't packing bags or planning to stay; this wasn't about extending your time together. It was about showing her that you still cared enough to make the effort. That even when everything felt wrong, you were willing to fight for what you had. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to remind her why she had once fought for you, too.

You spent the entire flight running through scenarios in your mind. She'd see you across the terminal, and maybe her face would light up the way it used to when you surprised her.

Or maybe she'd be confused, unsure why you'd gone to such lengths when she'd already promised to come home. And then there was the other possibility, the one you couldn't bear to entertain for long: what if she didn't seem happy to see you at all?

What if her smile didn't reach her eyes, and she asked, gently but firmly, why you'd bothered?

Still, you clung to the hope. It was all you had left.

The plan was simple: show up unannounced, surprise her at the airport, and make her feel the way you used to. You pictured her running into your arms, her words spilling over with apologies for how distant she'd been.

Maybe she'd tell you she'd missed you just as much as you'd missed her. Maybe this would be the moment everything changed, the turning point you'd been waiting for.

But beneath that hope, there was a voice you couldn't silence. It whispered doubts you didn't want to hear: What if she'd already let go? What if this trip wasn't the romantic gesture you'd built it up to be, but just another reminder of how far apart you'd drifted?

You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the idea of seeing her again. That was what mattered. She was coming home, and you were going to make sure that this time, it felt like coming home to you.

When you arrived at the airport, the rush of excitement coursing through you made your hands tremble.

The overhead announcements blended with the distant hum of engines and the chatter of travelers, but all of it felt like background noise. Your focus was sharp, your mind singular: find Jenna.

You moved through the terminal with purpose, your eyes scanning every face in the crowd. Each time someone walked by, your heart jumped, only to settle back when it wasn't her. It was almost overwhelming—the sheer volume of people, the endless possibilities of where she might be.

But you didn't let it deter you. You kept walking, your sneakers squeaking against the polished floors as you weaved between bustling families and travelers clutching their luggage. The excitement hadn't dulled; it thrummed in your chest with every step.

You were just excited to see her face.

There was something surreal about the thought of seeing Jenna in person again. For months, your interactions had been reduced to grainy screens and lagging calls. The details of her face—once so familiar—had started to feel distant, like a memory that wasn't quite sharp anymore. But now, you'd see her clearly. No pixelation, no delays, no guessing whether her tone matched the look in her eyes.

You found yourself craning your neck, peering through the crowd, your pulse quickening with each new face that wasn't hers. Every person walking by seemed to blur together, but you didn't care. The anticipation was too strong, too consuming.

She'd be here soon. You were sure of it. And when you saw her—when she looked at you and realized you'd come all this way just to surprise her—you felt certain everything would fall back into place. You'd wrap her in your arms, and she'd smile that smile that made you feel like the only person in the world. Everything would go back to normal.

Your excitement only grew as you kept moving, your gaze darting across the terminal. The weight of the past few months seemed lighter here, replaced by the spark of hope that seeing her again brought.

You were so ready to leave behind the grainy screens, the clipped conversations, and the gnawing loneliness. Soon, you'd have her here—right in front of you.

Every brunette you spotted sent a rush of anticipation through you, only for it to fade as you realized it wasn't her. But the thought of seeing her in person kept you moving, your steps light despite the weight of everything you'd been carrying inside.

Then, you saw her.

For a split second, you felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. She was just ahead, standing near one of the boarding gates, her familiar figure unmistakable even from this distance. Your heart swelled with relief and excitement, your hand twitching at your side as if it already itched to reach out to her. She was right there, and everything you'd been holding onto—the doubts, the fears—seemed to melt away.

But the joy that had begun to bloom in your chest withered almost instantly.

She wasn't alone.

There was someone standing next to her—a blonde, their features partially obscured by the way they were leaning close to Jenna. The scene in front of you felt like a punch to the stomach, your body freezing as the sight registered.

It wasn't just the proximity of their bodies; it was the way they seemed so at ease with one another. Jenna's laughter rang out, soft and warm, a sound you hadn't heard in weeks.

You took a shaky step closer, trying to convince yourself that there was some reasonable explanation. Maybe it was a colleague, a friend—someone who worked with her.

It had to be.

But the way Jenna tilted her head toward the person, her gaze soft and unguarded, made it impossible to ignore the intimacy between them.

Your breath caught when she reached out, her fingers brushing a strand of blonde hair away from the other person's face. The gesture was gentle, almost tender, and it felt like someone had grabbed your chest and squeezed. You couldn't tear your eyes away, even as your stomach churned with a sickening mix of disbelief and hurt.

She hadn't looked at you like that in months. Maybe longer.

The thought hit you before you could stop it, an unwelcome truth that only deepened the ache spreading through your chest. You tried to rationalize it—tried to tell yourself that you were overthinking, that you didn't know the full story—but the way they leaned toward each other, the way Jenna's lips curled into a smile that felt entirely too genuine, shattered every excuse you could muster.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, the bustling crowd around you fading into the background. Your fingers clenched at your sides, the hope you'd clung to so tightly now slipping through your grasp like sand.

The excitement that had carried you here dissolved, leaving behind a hollow ache that spread through your entire body.

You didn't know who the blonde was, couldn't make out their features fully, but it didn't matter.

All you could see was the way Jenna looked at them—the way she leaned in to whisper something, her expression so open and free. It was a look that once belonged to you, and now, it felt like a memory you could barely hold onto.

Your mind raced, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and heartbreak. Part of you wanted to march up to her, to demand answers, to ask her why she hadn't looked at you like that in so long. But another part of you—the quieter, more vulnerable part—knew you wouldn't.

Because what if the answer was exactly what you feared?

So, you stayed where you were, your chest tightening with every second that passed. The Jenna you'd come here to surprise, the one you'd hoped to reconnect with, felt farther away than ever—even though she was standing just a few feet in front of you.

You had wanted so badly to see her face, to feel like everything could be okay again. But now, as the scene played out before you, all you could think about was how foolish you'd been to hope.

You couldn't look away, no matter how much it hurt. It was like watching a glass shatter in slow motion—every crack and splinter dragging out the inevitable.

Jenna didn't even glance around the terminal, didn't seem to notice anyone but the blonde in front of her. Her focus was entirely on them, like the rest of the world didn't exist.

You tried to remind yourself that she couldn't have been looking for you—there was no reason for her to. She didn't know you were here, waiting, desperate to surprise her. Still, it didn't dull the sting. It didn't stop the ache in your chest as you watched her laugh, completely unaware of your presence. She looked so... comfortable. So at ease. She didn't even flinch when someone brushed past her shoulder, her attention glued to the person in front of her.

You felt rooted to the spot, your legs heavy and unwilling to move. All you could do was watch it unfold—the way her smile seemed unguarded, the way her body tilted slightly toward theirs as though pulled by an invisible string. It didn't matter that you couldn't hear what they were saying; their body language spoke louder than words ever could.

You wanted to believe that you were overreacting, that there was some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But the longer you stood there, the harder it became to convince yourself. Jenna didn't look like someone who was holding back. She didn't look like someone who was keeping anyone at arm's length.

And it hit you—how easy it all seemed for her.

Maybe leaving you really had been that easy for her.

The thought clawed at your insides, tearing through the fragile hope you'd carried with you. You'd thought it wouldn't be simple for her to drift away, that the bond you shared was too strong to break so easily. You'd convinced yourself that, deep down, she'd be struggling as much as you were, that her distance was temporary, that she still cared.

But now? Watching her like this, so at ease, so unbothered, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Maybe it really hadn't been hard for her to let go. Maybe she'd been letting go for a long time—so slowly, so quietly, that you hadn't even noticed until it was too late.

Your chest tightened as the realization sunk in. You'd spent weeks, months, holding on to the hope that she would come back to you, that the distance between you wasn't as wide as it felt. And yet, here she was, looking happier and more present than you'd seen her in months—just not with you.

You blinked rapidly, your throat burning as you fought the urge to cry. It wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Seeing her again, being here, was supposed to remind you why you'd fought so hard to hold on. Instead, it was like a door being slammed shut in your face, a reminder of just how far apart you'd grown.

The irony wasn't lost on you: she was finally here, right in front of you, but it felt like you'd already lost her a long time ago.

You stood frozen, watching Jenna and the girl, their conversation seeming so effortless, so natural.

Their laughter was soft, shared like a secret, and it pulled them closer. You didn't need to hear what they were saying to know where it was heading.

The way Jenna leaned in just slightly, her head tilting toward the blonde, was enough to make your stomach drop.

You'd waited so long for this moment—for Jenna to come home, for her to hold you again, to console you with promises that everything was going to be okay. But as you watched her now, it was clear that wasn't going to happen. Not here. Not now. Not with you.

Your chest felt heavy, a knot tightening in your throat as you took a shaky step back, then another.

The world around you blurred, but it wasn't until you felt the wet streak on your cheek that you realized you were crying. The tears came slow and small, a quiet betrayal of everything you'd tried so hard to hold in.

You couldn't watch anymore. You couldn't stay there, hoping for something that had already slipped through your fingers. Without a second thought, you turned and started walking, weaving through the crowd with no real direction, just an aching need to get away.

You left before Jenna could see you, before she could ever know you were there.

And as you disappeared into the throng of travelers, you felt the weight of it—the emptiness, the quiet finality of leaving without a trace.

[cinnawonbabe]

CREEP

part one

pairings: peeping jungwon x sister’s best friend female reader

warnings: jungwon is a peeping creep watching y/n piss, and shower, masturbation, slight descriptions of intentional self inflicted harm, mentions of blood, slight, but not really, dubcon from reader, oral fem receiving, peeping on her sleeping

overview: jungwon had a weird creepy obsession with peeping on his older sister’s best friend whenever she comes over. he’s done it for so long it became like a game that he didn’t get caught in…. until it wasn’t.

taglist🏷️ : @nayeoniiz

jungwon was sitting in the living room, working on one of his many assignments from university. he was in year one and if he wanted to be the best, he had to earn it. he was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize when his sister walked in, accompanied by her best friend y/n. jungwon studies were soon halted by his sister coming into close proximity of him.

“hey wonnie whatcha doing?” his sister asked, breaking his trance from his work. he looked up and his eyes met with both of the girls. a light red glow tinted his cheeks. the girls knew jungwon had a fat crush on y/n and it became apparent that they took joy in teasing him for fun.

to them, jungwon was this sweet little boy, always caught up in his studies. you could always find his face stuffed in a good book. but the reality of it was far more sinister. little did they know how pervy jungwon really was: waiting until the late hours of the night to sneak and creep on y/n at any given moment. there was one summer where y/n was changing into a swimsuit in the bathroom. jungwon was hidden in the bathtub, peeping through the crack on the shower curtain. he watched her undress from her clothes and slide into her bathing suit while he rubbed one out quietly to the scene that unfolded in front of him. no one knew that this ”innocent” boy had a dark, twisted secret and he liked to keep it that way. or so he thought he could.

jungwon was now averting his attention away from the girls, ignoring their teasing looks. “can you guys just leave me be? i’m studying for an important exam coming up,” jungwon said as he began to collect his belongings.

“aww is wonnie going away? you don’t wanna spend time with me anymore?” y/n taunted. she knew exactly how to rile this boy up. jungwon shook his head, quickly grabbing the rest of his things and fleeing from the situation. he ran straight up to his room, closing the door behind him. he leaned his back against the door, taking a few deep breaths trying to calm himself. his trousers felt tight and uncomfortable. he wasn’t surprised to see how visibly hard he was. he couldn’t help it. y/n looked too stunning, her skin unmarked, so beautifully soft. he just wanted to devour her.

he locked his door and made his way to his bed, placing his belongings on the floor next to him. he slid his hands in his pants and underwear, bringing them down to his ankles before grabbing the lotion from the nightstand next to his bed. he had to fix his little problem now.

he squeezed a decent amount of lotion onto his hand and grabbed his throbbing member. the cold sensation from the lotion caused him to hiss as he stroked it, images of y/n flashing in his head. from seeing her naked, her flawless skin being illuminated by the dull bathroom light, from her unknowing sleeping figure’s chest rising and falling with each breath she took, her lips parting with every snore. oh how he adored her. he quickened his pace, firmly stroking his member to every fleeting thought of y/n. he choked on a moan, keeping quiet so no one knew what he did behind closed doors.

then, his imagination took a turn. he started imagining himself stripping her naked, marking up her sweet, soft skin. he thought about how she tasted, what her insides felt like. it felt so good. and he was so, so close. rubbing his thumb against the slit on his tip, he couldn’t contain it any longer. he was reaching his climax. with a final stroke he came hard into his hands, his body convulsing as he muffled a moan, biting hard onto his bottom lip. he could taste something metallic in his mouth. fuck. he thought. he’s bleeding. he quickly wiped the mess he made of himself onto his clothes and took them off, tossing them into his dirty clothes hamper in the corner of his room. he looked into the mirror next to his dresser. his lip didn’t look that bad, but he needed to clean up quickly. he quietly and quickly rushed straight to the bathroom that was down the hall. he did not need to get caught running naked while his sister and y/n were downstairs. he locked himself in the bathroom, taking a nice hot shower to cleanse him of his sins. it felt good having the hot water running down his body. but, oh how he wished it was y/n’s hands touching him instead.

he washed up using his favorite body soap, then washed his hair afterwards.

after he got out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he stared into the foggy mirror. he wiped it so he could view his lip better, bringing his face close to inspect it better. it was swollen and a small slit was in the middle of his bottom lip. it was very noticeable. how was he supposed to hide this? how will he explain this if he was asked? in that moment an idea popped in his head. he’d fake an injury. he grabbed onto the shower curtain, and fell forward causing a loud bang on impact, knocking the wind out of him. the fall caused him to bite down on his lip and bleed some more.

he heard commotion from outside the door, it had to be the girls. a loud knock soon followed right afterwards. jungwon got up and looked at the scene. the shower curtain and rod was on the floor, trails of blood droplets as well. this was brilliant. the perfect cover up. he opened the bathroom door, drawing gasps from the girls. it was a sight to see. jungwon’s sister look petrified, her brother was bleeding from the mouth, and the bathroom was a wreck. “wonnie, oh my god! are you okay? i’m going to call mom. y/n, please help him!” his sister screamed, scattering away to call their mom.

y/n was at a loss for words. on one hand, she was concerned about the boy’s wellbeing. but on the other hand? she couldn’t help but observe him and inspect his every feature. this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see a wet and bloody, half naked jungwon. his abs were glistening in the bathroom light, water mixed with blood dripping down his chin, his wet hair messily sticking to his forehead. and as bad as it sounds, he looked desirable to her right now.

jungwon’s face grew hot, drawing her out of her trance. she didn't realize how long she had been staring. she immediately took action, grabbing a face towel and wetting it with cold water to clean his busted lip. he winced in pain from the contact. “oh, i’m sorry!” y/n exclaimed.

“it’s fine. i’m fine,” jungwon reassured her as she continued to clean him up. jungwon’s sister came upstairs to let them know their mama won’t be back until later tomorrow morning, she’s working an overnight shift at the hospital tonight. “so it’s just us tonight?” y/n asked and his sister nodded. “yeah, i’m in charge and mom said to just clean the afflicted area and ice it,” she added, handing him an ice pack. he took it and put it on his lip, quickly thanking them both before heading to his room to get dressed and finish with his studies.

after a while, he checked the clock: 10pm. i should probably head to bed soon, he thought. as was getting ready to head to bed, he heard commotion outside his door. he cracked it slightly open and saw y/n standing there, already dressed in her pajamas and heading towards the bathroom. a sinister smile appeared on his face as he quietly tiptoed out his room and walked in the direction of his sister’s room, peaking in. his sister was sound asleep in bed. it was showtime baby. he quietly made his way to the direction of the bathroom, peering into the keyhole as his eyes landed on y/n. he watched as she slid her shorts down and sat on the toilet, his own shorts now growing tight around him. he watched as she wiped herself, pulled her clothes up and washed her hands before he quickly fled back into his room. he couldn’t risk getting caught like this. he closed his door softly and waited for her to pass by. he heard her footsteps creeping down the hallway, but they stopped right in front of his door. he panicked, but didn’t dare to make a sound.

a soft knock was heard from the other side. at first he ignored it, sliding into his bed and under the covers. “jungwon are you awake?” y/n called out to him, but he didn’t respond. he kept quiet, hoping she would leave soon. but then the doorknob jingled, twisting and the door creaked open. jungwon felt his heart pounding. oh no oh no. he thought. she was coming in. he turned his back to the door, feigning sleeplessness. he heard her footsteps come closer to his bedside. the mattress dipped behind him. this cannot be happening right now. this had to be a dream.

he felt her small hand resting upon his arm and her breath dangerously close to his ear. “i know you’re asleep, but today is the first time i’ve actually seen you outside of that nerdy facade you have,” she whispered into his ear. it sent shivers down his spine. he felt her hand snake under his shirt, her fingertips running against his abs. “i’ve never knew such a sweet boy like you was so beautifully built. it has to be from those taekwondo lessons you’ve been taking,” she added, her hands now playing with the hem of his shorts.

his member throbbed painfully, craving so badly to be touched. he couldn’t hold back any longer. he grabbed her hand, causing her to yelp from the sudden action. he turned to face her, examining her facial expressions. they both stared at one another intensely. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he said, crashing his lips onto hers. it was rough but passionate. he spent so long, longing for this moment and here it finally was. he never believed in miracles until now. their lips danced amongst each other. her hands now snaking around his neck to bring him closer. he wrapped his arms around her waist, flipping himself on top of her. he trailed kissed down her jaw to her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. he waited so long for this, he wantedㅡ no he needed to leave his mark. he wanted the world to know that he finally bagged y/n after all these years of pining for her. he left so many love bites on her skin before he moved to rid her of her shirt, trailing more kisses down her body. he took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue gently on her nipple as he squeezed the unoccupied one with his free hand. small whines escaped from her lips, riling him up even more. he alternated between each breast, edging her on before trailing more marks down her abdomen. he licked a small streak down her navel until he reached the hem of her pants.

he paused and looked up at her, a silent glance for any sign of hesitation. she looked down at him, her breath hitching in her throat as she did so. “please wonnie..” she heaved out. a switch flipped inside his head. he didn’t know what came over himself, but he soon stripped her out of her shorts and underwear, teasingly kissing and sucking on her inner thighs. soft moans escaping her lips. “all those years of you teasing me,” jungwon rasped out against her skin. “now look at who's on the other end.” kissing close to her core, but never touching her there, was driving y/n crazy. she never knew there was a dark side to the kid she grew up with. teasing him all those years only for her to end up being the fool.

she wanted him to touch her so bad. “please wonnie, touch me!” she pleaded with him in a whispered yell.

he smirked, “as you wish princess.” he then licked between her flaps, she shivered from the warmth of his tongue on her dripping wet core. he licked up her juices that threatened to leak out. his tongue dancing on her clitoris. the sensation was magical to y/n. she intertwined her fingers into his hair, grabbing chunks of it as she buried his face deeper into his core. she had never felt this way before. it was all new to her as it was to jungwon. despite the fact that they were both virgins, jungwon seemed experienced in this field. he sucked gently on her clit, plunging two fingers into her core. her back arched from the pleasure. he plunged his fingers deep inside her, curling them as he thrusted them. his moves were precise, accurately hitting all the spots she didn’t know she had. yher moans grew louder with each movement, echoing throughout the room, but she didn’t care. it felt too good. how was he so good at this?

he quickened his pace, bringing her closer to her high as her body started shaking, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach and stretching throughout her body. it was exhilarating, her body trembling with every breath she took. she felt his fingers plunge into the depths of her insides, loving the feeling of how he rubbed her sweet spots. “oh wonnie… i’m gonna-,“ her sentence was cut short by a loud whined out moan of pleasure. her body jolting from the overstimulation, feeling his two digits speed increasing as he finger fucked her through her orgasm. she came hard into his mouth, her juices flowing all over his face as he kept his pace, licking up all her delicious juices. her toes curled as she rode out her high. her body shook from the remaining overwhelming pleasure. as she came down from her orgasm, jungwon placed a final kiss on her clit, peering his head up to make eye contact with her. “how was it, princess?” he asked sitting up. he made direct eye contact as he took his two digits and put them in his mouth, licking up the remainder of her juices off his fingers. she watched intensely, her body craving him more. “phenomenal,” she said honestly. she watched as he took off his shirt and then used it to clean her off before helping her get dressed. “you should probably head back. i’m sure my sister is up now from all the commotion,” jungwon teased, smiling widely knowing he had finally fulfilled one of his many fantasies. she nodded in agreement, pushing herself off his bed and wobbling to the door making jungwon laugh. he found it cute that she could barely walk straight just from the head he gave. he felt accomplished with himself.

right before she left she turned to face him, “wonnie, we should do this more often,” she shyly stated and jungwon’s smile held a dark vibe. it both frightened y/n, yet turned her on. she really liked this side of him.

“princess, this is only the beginning of something beautiful,” he said and with that she left his room, shutting the door behind her. when she got back to her best friend’s room, she noticed that she hadn’t woken up at all. guess she wasn’t loud enough after all. and with that she headed straight to bed, not knowing jungwon was once again creeping on her as she slept. you’re finally mine, y/n. he thought as he started at her sleeping through the crack of the door.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

[dyns33]

Family's dog

The Solomons family is composed of three members and it was time to focus on the tiniest.

A dog's life wasn't an easy life.

Born on the street, hungry, sleeping in the cold, he had been happy the first time he had a master.

Some might say he wasn't a good master. He sometimes forgot to feed him, he didn't let him inside when it rained, considering that the kennel he shared with the others was enough and he forced him to fight when he didn't want to.

But as a dog, he was grateful.

Still, it was a shock to be adopted by his new master.

"Hello, love." the man had said when he saw him, putting his cane behind him and leaning down with difficulty to pat his head. "No, it's not a toy, and it's not a weapon either. I don't want to hit you, you don't hit nice boys. Don't you, Mr. Collins, nice boys like this don't deserve to be hit ?"

"Yes, Mr. Solomons, certainly."

"Certainly, innit ? Then why does he have marks all over him ?"

"The other dogs, sir. For the fights."

"Ah, yes, those barbaric spectacles. In our fair country, what a disgrace. Poor boy, is this where you sleep ? Mr. Collins, it takes no heart to make such a brave dog sleep in such a place."

"I can bring him inside if you…"

"Nah. He's coming with me, on top of what you owe me."

Mr. Solomons gave him a new home. A real home you could say, where he could walk everywhere, with food and water every day, gentle pats on the head, a basket for him, the right to climb on the sofa and the bed, and a name. Cyril.

Well, as for the bed, Cyril wasn't sure he understood. His master growled as soon as he jumped up near him, mumbling 'no', a word he knew well, but then he put his arm around him and fell asleep without trying to get him down or punish him.

Everything was wonderful with Mr. Alfie Solomons.

He also took him outside with him. At first, Cyril was afraid that it would make him fight or abandon him somewhere, but no. Holding him with a leash and swearing obscenities while asking him to slow down because of his back, they only went around the neighborhood or on the beach before going back.

There was the car too.

"Yes, stick your head out, it'll be better for you and me."

"Woof !"

"Isn't that right, love ?"

There were times when his master would have clearly wanted Cyril to be more aggressive. He would sometimes growl when strangers approached in a threatening manner, which was often enough to scare them off.

But most of the time, he would sit next to him, salivating, simply happy to be with his master.

"Cyril, I'm going to ask you to be a perfect gentleman, okay ? A perfect gentleman, even nicer than usual. If there's a bite, a bark, anything that ruins it, I should get angry, and I don't want to get angry."

The request was strange. Tilting his head to the side, Cyril watched as Mister Solomons got ready for an important meeting, as he often did. Except he looked nervous.

Not nervous like he could be, mumbling nonsense or complaining about his back, really nervous. His master didn't seem to be afraid of anything though.

For the first time since he had arrived in his new home, his master brought someone home in the evening.

Y/N Shelby, he introduced her with great ceremony. They obviously knew each other well, because the young woman ignored Alfie's long, wacky tirades to crouch down in front of Cyril with a huge smile, offering her hand for him to sniff.

A lot of humans didn't do that. They touched him without permission or kept their distance.

This pleased Cyril very much, who thanked her by licking her fingers, which made her laugh. A very pretty sound, which enchanted him as it seemed to enchant Mr. Solomons.

Faced with his acceptance, Y/N began by scratching his head, ears, neck, and he ended up on his back, in complete ecstasy, while she took care of his belly.

"You were right, a real menace. A terror. Alfie, I'm so scared of your dog." she joked at the sight.

"I must say he seems to adore you, treacle. It's a good thing, I wasn't joking when I said he was difficult, he only listens to me."

Mr. Solomons called him 'traitor' while continuing to treat him kindly. Strange, because Cyril did exactly what he asked, obeying his new mistress perfectly, probably even better than him. But Mr. Solomons often said strange things without thinking them.

It was the first time that there was a woman in Cyril's life, and in addition to seeming important to Alfie, she treated him with great affection and respect. She also took very good care of the one she called 'her husband'.

So it was very quickly obvious that she was the most important person, the leader of the pack. The one who had to be made proud and protected first.

"He only listens to you, huh ?"

"What can I say, damn woman ? Lovely witch. You seduced my dog, just like you seduced me. There's no other explanation, otherwise why would we both be staring sadly at the door until you come home, then following you everywhere ? One day, we'll fight for your attention, and you know what's worse ? He'll win. He's already stealing my place in the bed and you're not saying anything."

"I don't see you punishing him much either."

"I'm a criminal, love, not a monster."

It wasn't even true that he was stealing Mr. Solomons' place. Cyril couldn't sleep until both his masters were present, curled up against each other with him at the foot of the bed. He only stayed close to Y/N to keep her company until Alfie arrived.

If he didn't mean it when he called him a 'traitor' because he was nice to his wife, Cyril heard real indignation in his voice when he accompanied them to see Y/N's family.

Lots of children, and many men he didn't know, who seemed quite hostile to Alfie while welcoming him with smiles and gifts. How could you not love them ?

"Your dog is much better educated than you, Mr. Solomons."

"Ah yes, dear Thomas, they say that dogs are a reflection of the life their masters could have had, which explains why this one is so pampered."

"Say right away that I mistreat you."

"Absolutely, treacle. Every day. You check that I have done my work, that I eat, that I have my back cushion, it is real daily torture. Hoy ! Cyril, no !"

"He's playing with the kids, everything's fine."

"That little fool doesn't know his strength, Thomas. Don't come blaming me when he makes your boy fall."

Cyril didn't make the boy fall, nor any of the toddlers who were running with him, making all the Shelbys present laugh, while his master was still mumbling under his breath.

He didn't seem interested in being congratulated for having trained his dog so well.

With her sweet smile, Y/N whistled for him to come to her, which he immediately did while wagging his tail.

"Good boy. It's time to go home now. Alfie, stop sulking, come on."

"I'm not sulking, treacle. I whistled for him three times without him listening to me, everything is perfectly normal."

"You love it when he obeys me so well, like you love it when I give you orders."

"In your dreams, crazy woman."

"Alfie, in the car."

"… I'm not going to walk home from Birmingham, that doesn't mean I obey you !"

Cyril barked happily to support his mistress, because he saw Mr. Solomons obeying his wife perfectly all the time, pretending to be offended while staring at her with sad puppy eyes waiting for a caress in return.

Not a reflection of the life he could have had, but of the life he had, Cyril thanked his master for picking him up at the corner of the road when everything was going badly, walking a bit together before having the chance to be both cuddled by Y/N.

"Anyway, I know you prefer him to me." Alfie grumbled, lying on his back, while his wife scratched the dog's head, settled between them.

"He doesn't complain all the time."

"I don't complain all the time, love. If I did complain all the time, you would have smothered me in my sleep a long time ago."

"Hmm. Never mind. I taught him a new trick."

"Let me guess. Steal the cane ? Hide the rum ?"

"Cyril. Please, living room."

Reluctant but not wanting to disappoint his mistress, Cyril jumped out of bed to wait on the couch, as his mistress had taught him, until she called him again so he could come back.

According to her, it would be a nice gift rather than forcing his 'daddy' to get up all the time to let him out and then open the door for him when he wanted a special cuddle.

"A special cuddle. Treacle, he's a dog, very intelligent no doubt, but he's not like kids with their sensitive ears, you can say fuc…"

"Alfie. I can tell him to come back if you want, and send you to the sofa instead of him."

"No, I want my special cuddle. I almost didn't tease Arthur during the party, I deserve it."

It wasn't the mating season, so Cyril didn't understand why his masters and especially Alfie were active so often in the year, but they were happy, and as promised they always called him when they were done so that he could join them, so they forgave their oddities.

It really wasn't easy being a dog, but Cyril Solomons didn't complain.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

My Best Friend’s Brother (part 4)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Silence. The house was silent. Nothing but snores from the men. You curled into In Ho’s bare chest. His big wrapping tightly around you as you slept.

“In Ho” his mother spoke softly, entering his room. She saw you cuddled up to In Ho, a smile on her face. She quickly snapped a photo of you before closing the door, quietly to not wake you. It was only 7 am on a Saturday, no work meant everyone was sleeping in. Every Hwang in the household was knocked out, including you, who if Mrs. Hwang Jung-Sue knew anything, you were definitely going to be one soon.

Jun Ho was the first of the men to awake. Walking softly into the kitchen and sitting at the table.

“Good morning, honey” she said patting his thigh.

“Good morning” he said yawning.

“Did (y/n) make it home safely?” She inquired. She obviously knew you were sound asleep in her eldest son’s room.

“She spent the night here. We were drinking and watching movies in In Ho’s room after dad kicked up out of the living room so he could watch the game” Jun Ho said.

“Oh? Where is she? There’s no bed made up. Is she sleeping on the floor in your room?”

“No, it was too late to ask you to make her a bed, and In Ho’s bed is bigger, mine’s only a twin. So we agreed she could sleep in his bed.” Jun Ho told her. “We didn’t want her walking home alone at night, and she was drunk.” He added.

“I raised such amazing boys” she beamed. She began making breakfast; eggs, sausage, rice, and toast. The smell of food drifting through the hallway and into In Ho’s room.

Your eyes fluttered open to see In Ho still sleeping soundly. His low snores rumbling in his chest. Not too loud, but just enough to tell you he was deeply asleep. You moved slowly out of bed, trying not to wake the sleeping giant. When you sat up and swung your legs over the bed, you felt and arm wrap around your waist.

“Where are you going?” He sighed deeply, his eyes unopening.

“I smell food, I’m starving” you say with pleading eyes.

“Not yet, i just want to cuddle you some more” he pulled you back to him. “And leaving without telling your boyfriend good morning is a horrible thing to do” he said with a scoff.

“Boyfriend?” You whisper.

“Yes, idiot” he responded. His stoic expression softened into a slight smile. “You gotta problem with it? No? Then shut up” you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could he spoke. “Are you always this agitating first thing in the morning? Will dick fix it?” He asked.

“No… but food will” you respond slyly. He attached his lips to yours. Letting you out of his grasp.

“Go, I’ll be out in just a moment. I need to fix my morning wood” he said, lighting tapping your ass as you pulled on his sweat pants. You walked out of the bedroom, your hair in a messy bun, your tiny body enveloped in In Ho’s large clothes.

“Good morning, my darling” his mother said, handing you a cup of tea as you sat at the table.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep Jun Ho” you ask your best friend.

“Really good. Drinking a little helped knock me out.” He admitted. “You?”

“I slept alright, In Ho’s bed is really firm.” You complain. “I like yours better, the mattress is softer” you explain.

“Just sleep on the couch next time, then.” In Ho spoke from the hallway. His messy hair and lightly toned body shining in the morning light. His abs coming to a perfect V into his boxers which sat low on his hips. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling up his hair.

“In Ho, don’t be so harsh.” His mother spoke. He shrugged.

“Well, I give light weight over here my bed to sleep in, instead of making her sleep on the couch with dad, and she still complains.” He sassily replied. “And she likes to be right on top of you, careful sleeping with this one Junnie, she’s gonna be all in your space” he rolled his eyes. Jun Ho turned pink. You were his best friend, he never thought about sleeping with you… in fact, he didn’t want to either.

“I wasn’t aware of that I was in your space. Sorry, In Ho” you dip your head.

“It’s whatever. Just don’t expect a charity spot in my bed when you sleep over again” he announces. He stood in the fridge, leaning over slightly. “Mom is there any more chocolate milk? All i see is plain.”

“Yes, honey, in the back. I just went grocery shopping yesterday.” His mom said sipping her tea.

“(Y/n), i understand your father is going away for a long business trip. Would you like to stay with us until he gets back?” Mr. Hwang spoke. He worked at the same law firm your father did.

“Oh, you don’t have to keep me. I’ll be fine all alone, besides I have a cat-“

“It’s no problem! We can set up the cats litter box in the laundry room and you can stay here! You’re really no bother.” She spoke over you. You could sense she knew that something was going on with you and In Ho.

“Okay, I suppose if you don’t mind then, I’ll stay for awhile” you agree reluctantly.

“Great” she exclaimed. In Ho and his brother shared a look.

“Wait, where’s she gonna sleep?” Jun Ho asks. “I don’t have space in my room. Dad’s sleeps on the couch after watching the game 4 nights a week, and she hates In Ho’s bed.”

“Well I didn’t say I-“

“She can sleep in my room” In Ho sighed. “I’ll buy a new mattress today for the damned unofficial princess of the Hwang household.” He spoke gingerly of you. You knew it was all a facade to keep Jun Ho from noticing the slowly burning romance between the two of you. He could also clearly see what his mother was doing.

“Perfect”

“Jun Ho, do you work today?” His mother asked.

“Yeah, I’m training a meter maid today from 1 to 4” he said. “ I wasn’t supposed to be working but they needed someone to train the new guy.

“I think that’s a waste of your potential, little brother.” In Ho said.

“Well, not everyone can be top detective of the SPD” Jun Ho counted gingerly.

“Well, I’ve worked there longer”

Tag list

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @angelofthorr @watasinekoru @galaxygurlll

[bloodlineslut]

The Law of Obsession (Ch. 2) | Roman Reigns

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! OC

Warnings: none

Summary: Laila meets a new friend at the cafe who has ties to Roman.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: MM MM MMM. I can only imagine what Roman sounds like over the phone when it's just you and him talking. Like warm butter.

Laila was jolted out of her sleep by the blaring sound of her alarm, blindly feeling around in her bed to turn off the incessant noise that made its way into her dream.

Her dream.

Her eyes shot open, trying to think back and remember all of it, but failing, only remembering bits and pieces.

She was sitting curled up on his lap, all of her weight resting on his firm thigh. His warm hands rubbing up and down her smooth legs that she just shaved and exfoliated.

Laila was the only one paying attention to the action movie they were watching. Engrossed by the film’s plot, she blindly shoved popcorn in her mouth from the large bowl Roman made for them.

Although it seemed like Roman was also watching the movie, his mind was occupied with her beauty and aura.

He couldn’t help but stare at the side of her pretty face, seeing that dimple appear every time she moved her mouth.

She could feel his stare on her and turned to look at him. “Roman! You’re not watching the movie…” She whined, grabbing his hand and playing with his fingers.

“I am babygirl. I promise.” He says, stroking his beard with his other hand.

He genuinely smiles for the first time in a long time, knowing that he was her protector.

Knowing that she was his.

All Laila could remember was that they were curled up in a mansion and watching The Fast & The Furious.

She zoned out in thought, a goofy smile creeping on her face.

“Ugh. Girl stand up, you just met him yesterday.” She tells herself as she sits up in her full size bed, adorned with pink and white sheets, pillowcases, a comforter, and fuzzy blanket.

She was so glad it was Saturday now, but she still wanted to get some homework and a little more studying done.

Going back to the café popped into her mind.

Grabbing her phone from under her pillow, she sees what time it is.

11:24 AM.

Having a little pep in her step today, she decides to actually take time to get ready and maybe pick out a sporty, but cute outfit.

The weather app said it was 73 degrees out so she could pull out the shorts today.

Opening the doors to her color coordinated closet, she goes to the black and white section. She reaches for the hanger that holds a black dri-fit tank top and pulls out black running shorts from her drawers. Then, she decides to do a white sports bra that had the criss-cross straps in the back for a pop of color.

After doing her daily morning routine that consisted of washing her face, doing skincare, and brushing her teeth, now she could start with makeup.

Before she could start though, she remembered her playlist wasn’t on yet.

Doing her makeup was pretty simple, as she liked to keep it pretty natural.

But the new song that began playing made her think of him.

She didn’t even have time to start fantasizing about what kind of boyfriend he would be, as her mom’s phone call pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Hey momma!”

“Hi my baby! How are you? I didn’t hear from you last night…” Her mother’s loving tone sounds through the speaker.

“Oh, yea sorry mom. I was really tired and forgot to call you.” She quickly makes up a lie, hoping it wouldn’t turn into a big thing.

“Okay…I just want to know that you’re safe. Your father is at work but he says he loves you, and we miss you!” Laila could just hear the tender smile in her mother’s voice.

“I miss you and dad too!”

“So, have you made any friends up there? From your classes or anything?” Laila picked up her phone and carried it with her while she walked to the kitchen in her apartment.

Setting the phone down on the counter, she continues the conversation. “Um…no not really. But mom, I’m also the type of person where someone has to talk to me first.” She reaches up to the cabinet, grabbing a glass to put her iced coffee into.

“I know honey. Maybe you could find a club for something that you like? That’s always a good place to start. Or go to a football game!” Her mother throws suggestions out there.

Going to a football game honestly didn’t even cross her mind, until now.

“I would love to go to a game, but I can’t go by myself. That’s lame, momma.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you…” Her mother says, trying to keep her hopes up.

“Yea hopefully…”

“Alright, well honey I have to head to the grocery store to get some things for dinner tonight. Your father and I love you, so much.” She hears her mom blow a kiss through the phone.

“I love ya’ll too. Send me pics of what you make too!”

“Okay my baby. Good bye and be safe.”

“Bye momma.” She hangs up the phone and looks at her counter for a minute.

Before Laila knew it, she finished her glass of coffee and rinsed it out, setting it in the sink. She went to her bedroom to put her black Nike’s on and to grab her backpack and car keys.

Arriving at the café, there were definitely more people there than any other time. She spotted an empty table near the counter and walked to it, sitting down.

Her to-do list had a few things on it, so she told herself that she would finish everything so the rest of her day was free. The first thing was to take a syllabus quiz for her finance class.

Knocking that out in about 15 minutes, she decided to reward herself with a treat.

Since she already had coffee this morning, she was thinking of just eating one of the café’s signature muffins.

Luckily, the line was going down, so she closed her laptop and got in line behind another black girl.

“Hey, you go to UMiami?” The girl in front of her turns around and nicely asks her.

“Yea I do! You go there too?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “Some of my friends go there, though. I’m Naomi, by the way.” Naomi reaches her hand out to shake Laila’s.

“Hi, I’m Laila!” They smile at each other, shaking hands.

“So Laila, help a girl out. What you get when you come here?”

Laila laughed, happy that she finally met someone that she could potentially be friends with.

Other than Roman.

“Lemme see. Their coffee is really good, but I already had some. But the muffins look good though, so I think I want that.” She points out the 3 different flavors of muffins the café offered.

“Blueberry sugar, chocolate chip,” Naomi gasps. “And strawberry?! I gotta get that one.” She claps her hands together, making Laila laugh.

“You’re so funny!”

“Girl, it be my husband I swear. He’s so silly and I think it rubs off on me.”

“You’re married? Wow, it must be nice…” She half joked as they moved up in the line.

“That’s what they tell you at first. Then they just get on your nerves…” She paused. “No, I love my pookie, though. His name is Jimmy.” Naomi informs her new friend.

As they told each other more things about themselves, they finally got to the counter and placed their orders. Naomi got her strawberry muffin and a lemonade, while Laila just got a blueberry sugar muffin.

She told Naomi that if she didn’t have anywhere to be, she could sit and eat with her at the table.

“Do you have homework and stuff?” Naomi asked as she took a bite of the muffin, moaning slightly at the taste.

“Yea, but thankfully it’s not a lot.”

“What’s your major?”

“Accounting! I graduate next spring.” Laila takes a bite of her muffin, now halfway eaten. She loved the taste of the sugar crystals that were on top.

“Oh you’re good with numbers.” Naomi said the thing that everyone always says when they find out Laila’s major.

“Oh my gosh, that’s what Roman said too.” Laila muttered the last part of that sentence.

“That’s what who said?” The muffin that was on its way to Naomi’s mouth stopped mid air, as she raised an eyebrow.

“This guy I met yesterday. It was actually here too.” Laila explained to Naomi, thinking back to her and Roman’s encounter yesterday.

“What’s his name again?” Naomi wanted to make sure she heard correctly. She could’ve swore Laila said Roman.

“Roman.”

Naomi’s eyes bulged damn near out of her sockets.

Laila furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at her reaction. “Wait, you know him?”

Naomi looked around in disbelief. “Girl, that’s my husband’s cousin! That’s crazy. You met Roman Roman? Like, he’s tall with a man bun and a beard?” Naomi moved her hands, modeling all three descriptions as they came out of her mouth.

“Yes! He’s really nice. I wasn’t expecting that to happen yesterday…” Laila looked away in thought and Naomi was glad because if only this girl knew.

“Jimmy ain’t gon’ believe this.” Naomi was already planning to tell him as soon as she got home. Jimmy always said Roman was gonna die single because he could never keep just one woman.

“Well, did he give you his number? I’m nosey.” Naomi was very well aware of what Roman did under the table for a living, but they all swore to keep it a secret.

“No. He actually gave me his law firm’s business card.” Laila pulls it out of her wallet, showing it to Naomi.

She takes it from her hands. “Yep, that’s him.” She turns the card over, seeing and recognizing Roman’s handwriting.

“Um Laila?” Naomi turns the card around, showing Laila the back. “Did you see this part?”

Laila takes the card back, looking closely at the number, clearly in handwriting and not typed.

“Is this his cell phone number?” Laila asks with wide eyes.

“Mmhmmm.” Naomi sips her lemonade, looking around the café. “Speaking of numbers, we should exchange.”

Laila can’t believe she didn’t see this until now. She must’ve been so engrossed with his presence that she didn’t notice him write it on the card before handing it to her.

Naomi handed her her phone to put in the contact info, then she texted the number so Laila could save it.

Throughout the rest of their conversation, Laila tried to pay attention, but her mind kept running back to Roman.

‘Should I call him first?’

‘Wait, no I don’t wanna seem desperate.’

‘But how is he gonna call me? He doesn’t have my number…’

“Laila you ain’t hear anything I just said.” Naomi catches her red handed.

Her mouth opens then closes in shame. “I’m sorry girly.”

Naomi gives a smug smile. “It’s okay, I know you over there thinking about your man,” Laila’s jaw drops, making Naomi giggle. “I gotta leave anyway. Jimmy talking about some he wants to get food even though he’s supposed to be on a diet.” She rolls her eyes.

“Oh, okay.” Laila chuckles slightly.

Naomi stands up, gathering her things before bending down to give Laila a goodbye hug.

“Text or call me sometime! Maybe we can do double dates in the future?” She winks at Laila and they both laugh.

Laila just shakes her head, seeing Naomi get in her car.

Forcing herself to finish her other 3 assignments in record time, she lets out a deep breath turning in the last one. She gathers all of her things, shoving them in her backpack and throwing away her trash.

Walking outside, she catches herself looking around for a tall man with man bun and beard. She wouldn’t be lying if she wasn’t a little bummed at not running into him again.

But at least she has a girl friend now.

Once in her car, she checks the time.

3:25 PM.

Driving to Cava, she gets her usual bowl before making her way back to her apartment.

A couple of hours later, she was laying in her bed under the comfort of her fuzzy blankets, watching TV. The soft glow of the television illuminated her room, but she wasn’t really paying much attention to it.

Her phone began to buzz on top of her nightstand.

Expecting it to be her mom, she instinctively reaches to pick it up, but was met with an unknown number.

Her brows knitted together in confusion, but the thought that it could be Roman crossed her mind and she hurriedly swiped to answer it.

He was the first one to speak. “Laila.”

Her stomach immediately did that flip thing at the sound of his voice—deep, smooth, but laced with an unreadable, underlying emotion.

Oh, that deep sultry voice made her stomach do that flip thing.

“Yeah? Roman?”

“Hi.” He says with slight hesitation, testing the waters out.

“Hi.” She echoed and smiled, feeling like a school girl that had a crush on a boy in her class.

“So you met Naomi today?”

“Oh, um—yea I did! She told me her husband and you are cousins.” She says, fiddling with the pink bonnet that was on her head.

Roman let out a breathy chuckle. “Yea, Jimmy and his brother Jey. We grew up together.” The fondness of talking about his family was evident in his voice. Everyone always thought that they were triplets wherever they went.

“Aw, ya’ll must be really close?”

“Oh yeah. They get on my nerves, but I love them though.” This makes Laila laugh, warming Roman’s heart at hearing that joyous sound.

“Yea, I can tell. Naomi talks about Jimmy like he worships the ground she walks on.” Laila thinks back to when Naomi was telling her about their wedding day.

There was a moment of silence between the two.

“Yeah. When you have something real with someone, you hold on to it.” His words revered through her ear as she idly played with the design on her blanket.

There was an unspoken meaning behind the words Roman was saying.

“…That’s a good way to put it.” Laila breathed out, her heart racing and thumping in her chest.

Roman could sense that she was nervous. Hell, he was too.

But only a little.

“Well. I know you probably have some things you need to do so…I won’t keep you long.” She could hear the ruffles of papers in the background.

“Are you still at work?”

“I am, but I’m about to drive home.” He smirks even though she can’t see it.

“Oh, okay. Well…I hope you make it home safe.” She says sweetly, really meaning her words.

“I will. Can I call you tomorrow?” He asks her.

Laila quickly nods her head, but she realizes he can’t see that. “Yes! That’s fine.”

Her excitement amused Roman. “Okay. Good night Laila.”

“Good night…” She echoed and the call disconnected.

She leaned back against her bed’s headboard and just stared at the ceiling, finally feeling like she was going to really like it here.

taglist!: @duhitzkay380 @emotionalhottiee @minsingular @potatosackk @vebner37 if you would like to be tagged, just comment!!

[mommyslittlebird]

It Felt Like Coming Home

WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After being strong for so long, the veil starts to slip.

CW: Dissociation, Crying, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Gang, I don't know how long this slow burn is gonna last. I might have to adjust to a medium paced burn, cause I apparently don't know how to write a blossoming relationship in a compelling way. For that reason, this one is kinda short.

Chapter 3 of A Room of Your Own

The next morning you found yourself awake earlier than usual. Again. You had a habit of not sleeping well when adjusting to new environments. So you once again made your way to the kitchen before sunrise, where you once again found Wanda leaned up against the counter in the same silk robe from yesterday.

She smiled over her coffee mug when she saw you. “Good morning! Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

You nodded, taking a seat on a stool at the island. 

“Same as yesterday? With my creamer?” 

“Yes please,” you yawned. 

She slid the mug across the island and leaned forward against the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”

You took a sip of coffee and nodded. You hadn’t really slept okay, but you didn’t have any desire to share that with Wanda. She was clearly trying very hard to make you comfortable. She wasn’t buying it. There was clearly something under the surface that didn’t escape her notice. She let the silence sit for a long moment, hoping you would say something. There was a warm glimmer in her green eyes urging you to speak up. You looked down into your mug, idly tapping the mug with your pointer finger. 

Realizing you were going to need more prompting, Wanda spoke again. “How are you feeling? About everything.”

You shrugged, not looking back up at her. You felt surprisingly fine, aside from not sleeping much. But there was another feeling too. One you couldn’t quite describe. It felt like you were stuck in a perpetual hypnopompic state, trapped in the liminal space between being asleep and awake. You were probably just tired. “I’m alright. Just tired, I think. I always have a bit of trouble sleeping in new places.”

Wanda nodded, not entirely satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to press you any further. 

You both turned your head as a very tired looking Natasha came through the doorway. Even with bedhead and tired eyes, she was beautiful. And the smile that spread across Wanda's face as her wife approached was breathtaking. They were picturesque: a type of beauty you could see even through your grief. You had a good feeling about them. Naive as it may be, you were compelled to trust them.

“Morning Y/N,” she yawned, wrapping her arm around Wanda’s waist. “I trust Wanda is taking care of you?” 

You nodded and smiled at them both. “She is.”

“Mmm, she always does,” she hummed, kissing her wife’s cheek. Natasha poured herself a cup of coffee, setting up next to you on the island. She slid you a pen and a pad of paper. “Wands and I are gonna go to the store in a bit. If you’re up for it, you can write down a list of the things you want. Favorite foods, snacks, school supplies, whatever you want.”

You cautiously took the pen. “Oh you all don’t have to go shopping for me or anything just because I’m staying here.”

Natasha leaned against the island, bracing her elbows against the marble. “What if I want to?” She asked in a low, almost testing tone before straightening back up. “It’s really no problem. We’re going to the store anyway. No reason to have you make a separate trip.”

You smiled. You really did hate the grocery store, so you weren’t going to argue. “Careful,” you said lightheartedly. “I might get used to you spoiling me. Then you’ll really have to kick me out.”

Wanda chuckled. She loved seeing this witty, playful side of you peak out beneath your shy, meek exterior. Natasha seemed to bring it out of you. Natasha seemed to bring it out of a lot of people. You couldn’t see the mischievous smirk that spread across her face. “Oh don’t worry. By the time Nat and I let you go you’ll be so high maintenance you won’t settle for anything less. I think you’re due for a good spoiling.” 

A faint blush rose to your cheeks as you finished your list and slid it back to Natasha. “Five items. Woah. I tell you what Wanda, this kid really pushes the limits,” Natasha teased, setting the pen and paper back down in front of you. “Make it ten and I’ll promise to reign in Wanda when it comes to spoiling.” She gives you a wink as you quickly scribble down a few more things. 

************

After a quick trip upstairs to get dressed and ready, they both headed off to the store, leaving you alone to explore the house. The house wasn’t necessarily a “mansion”, per se, but it was certainly bigger than any house you’d ever lived in. Every room had its own special charm. You carefully perused all the repurposed bedrooms and storage spaces you came across, thoroughly exploring all of your surroundings.

Your favorite room, though, was Wanda’s office. It appeared to be a repurposed bedroom on the top floor with a massive window lining the wall and a huge L-shaped desk. It was cluttered, but in a way that made it look more lived-in than messy. Best of all, there was a small indentation in the wall where you guessed there used to be a closet that Wanda had fashioned into a reading nook. The nook sat, pristine and unused, but you could see yourself curling up there for hours. Maybe Wanda would let you sit here and read while she worked. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t even hear the front door click open as Wanda and Natasha returned from the store. 

“Y/N? We’re back!” You heard Natasha call from the foyer. You quickly left the office, closing the door as if you were scared they would catch you. You weren’t sure why the idea made you so nervous. They made it clear you were free to explore. You just naturally felt like an intruder, despite being a welcome guest.

“And we have a surprise for you!” Wanda sang as you came down the steps. 

She sat down a number of paper bags before pulling a mossy green blanket from one of them and handing you the silky soft material. You smiled and took it from her, rubbing the soft material against your cheek. 

“I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I noticed yesterday how much you love soft material and I thought you might like a new blanket for your new bed,” she explained, swaying nervously on her feet. She was worried you weren’t going to like it. 

You hummed contently, unwrapping the blanket and throwing it over your shoulders. It was so incredibly soft and it was big enough to cover your whole bed. Much more suitable than the throw blankets you’d brought with you. “Thank you so much. It’s so nice and soft.”

“And we got some popcorn and ice cream because we were thinking about having a little movie night,” Natasha added. “What do you think? We could gather up all the softest blankets and build you a little nest.”

You stood still, shocked by the suggestion. You thought in staying with them, you’d just be a roommate, coming and going with a few scattered interactions. But this wasn’t just a passing interaction like morning coffee was. They were proposing that you spend the evening together. They wanted to hang out with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Wanda blurted out after a long moment of silence. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. If it’s more beneficial to just take some time to yourself, hang out in your room, that’s absolutely fine. It’s just a suggestion. If you wanted company.” 

“A movie sounds nice,” you said quietly, pulling the blanket tight over your shoulders. 

Wanda visibly relaxed and smiled softly. “Then I’ll put these groceries away while you two find some blankets.”

“I found one!” Natasha shouted playfully, picking up your blanket wrapped form and carrying you to the corner of the couch where she gently set you down. “You stay here and get comfortable. I’ll go round up some more soft things.”

Both women returned a few minutes later, Wanda with a big bowl of buttery popcorn, and Natasha with a random amalgamation of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals that she promptly dropped directly on top of you, burying you in the heap. 

“Natalia Alinovna Romanoff!” Wanda shouted disapprovingly, setting down the popcorn bowl and rushing to dig you out. You emerged with a giddy, content smile, snuggled up with a fuzzy body pillow. “She could’ve suffocated.”

Natasha jokingly rolled her eyes, which earned her a playful slap on the bicep from Wanda. She couldn’t possibly stay mad at Natasha after watching you happily wiggle under the comforting weight of the soft blankets. You twisted and flopped around like a puppy walking in circles and scratching its pillow so it could lay in its bed just right. The women smiled and giggled affectionately. 

After a few minutes, you finally settled, surrounded in a nest of blankets. 

“Do you have something in particular you’d like to watch?” Wanda asked, grabbing the remote and settling in next to Natasha on one end of the large couch. 

You shrugged but they couldn’t see it under all the blankets. “I don’t know. Maybe Robin Hood or The Aristocats. Something lighthearted and old.”

Wanda clicked the remote, waving her arm in different directions to try to get the TV to respond. After a moment, Natasha took the remote and easily found an old movie on Disney +. Wanda sneered and scrunched up her face. Natasha kissed her nose. 

The movie played in the background, but you spent more time paying attention to the women curled up on the end of the couch. They weren’t “cuddling”, per se, but their bodies weren’t pressed tightly together with their legs nearly intertwined. They both looked so at peace with each other. You yearned for that feeling. 

“You wanna join us?” Natasha asked almost playfully when she caught you staring. 

Wanda, who was closer to you, opened her arm and beckoned you over. 

You paused for a moment before emerging from your blanket nest, crawling up and laying hesitantly beside her. You rested your head in the crook of her arm, but kept your hands curled up against your own chest. 

“Well hang on now, I want some cuddles too. Get over here,” Natasha said with a mischievous smile before pulling you in between them. You giggled as you were gently pulled over Wanda plopped into a small spot on the couch in between them. You nearly head butted Natasha in the process. Wanda pulled your new blanket from the heap and tucked it around the three of you. Natasha wrapped her arm around you and smiled. “Much better.”

You settled into Natasha's chest with your back pressed up against Wanda while she ran her hand gently up and down your spine. You sighed, content in their cocoon of warmth. You felt so supported and loved, affectionately squished between the two women. 

“Are you alright, honey? You're shaking,” Natasha asked, looking down at you with a hint of concern. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You weren’t shaking. But as you started to pay more attention to your body, you noticed she was right. There was a small, almost imperceivable tremble in your muscles. Almost imperceivable unless you happen to be laying on top of someone, of course. 

“And your muscles are so tight. Like you're constricting your entire body,” Wanda added, sitting up to look at your face. “If this is making you uncomfortable we don’t have to…”

“No,” you interrupted. “No it’s not that. It’s just…” You were suddenly aware of your body in a way you hadn’t been in quite some time. It felt like returning to a home you didn’t remember leaving. It was like when you’re going somewhere and you get to your destination, and you can’t remember the drive. You were just… home.

Before you even recognized it, the shield you had unintentionally built started to crumble. Tears fell from your eyes, wetting Natasha’s shirt. “Oh poor baby, you must be exhausted, living with your body so… activated all the time,” Wanda cooed sympathetically.

Neither of them were surprised. In fact, both women acted as if they had anticipated this. Natasha pulled you closer, cradling your head under her chin and gently rocking you. “It’s okay. You're safe now, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’re gonna protect you.”

Their words only made you cry harder, but in a freeing, cathartic way. Wanda rubbed the back of your head gently, leaning over to say “Let it out. We’ve got you, angel. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Their words seeped into your bones, giving you permission to crumble as you sobbed into Natasha’s chest. They both continue to soothe you, rubbing your back and stroking your hair. Neither of them chided or rushed you, giving you time to adjust. Wanda brought you some water. Natasha helped you sit up as she pressed the cool glass to your lips. 

As your sobs faded to sniffles and your eyes started to droop, Natasha whispered “It’s alright. You can fall asleep here. We’ll get you to bed.” You drifted off, finally relaxed and at peace.

[urbaebarnes]

be mine

summary: you were convinced life would never be the same again after losing Nat, but your life's never the same after Bucky either

post endgame bucky barnes x fem avenger reader

warnings: grief, curse words, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n

i know people like flowers and everybody was so kind about it i couldn't wait to start writing this! this was also meant to be much shorter but here we are i guess

word count: 3.9k words

Grief was a scary thing. No matter who you were, realising that somebody is gone from your life is difficult. But it seemed to be double the blow for you and Bucky.

Natasha had been your lifeline, your only family. You came here with her, and part of you felt as though you left here with her too. It was supposed to be easy to understand, but no matter how many times people explained it to you, it didn’t quite make sense how everybody else got their families back and you just didn’t.

You figured Bucky must feel similar, the two of you never really ventured outside your designated people. He had Steve, and you had Nat. Sure, everybody else was still close, but they would never be able to fill the void that was left by the redhead assassin. Who were you supposed to run to after a good date- or a bad one at that?

It was fine, you tried to convince yourself, as everybody else moved out the compound, as everybody else moved on, you were stuck here.

The only other person who’d remained was Bucky, although that seemed to be partly down to the fact the government still wasn’t exactly sure what they were supposed to be paying him. It was a room, a bed, a constantly stocked kitchen. It made sense to stay.

After Bruce officially moved out, you were convinced you didn’t see Bucky for two weeks. He was good at being sneaky, you only ever caught glimpses of him, or often a still steaming mug of tea on the countertop when you’d abandoned your attempt to sleep and decided you wanted a glass of water. If you appeared in a room, he was gone before you could even open the door, only leaving a trail of proof behind him.

One day, it seemed to change. The solitude was starting to mess with your head a little, not like you weren’t used to it, but normally there was something, anything. An off hand comment, a morning or goodnight, the more time you spent around the compound, it felt like you were chasing ghosts. But seemingly, Barnes had gotten sick of dropping whatever he was doing and escaping.

It was late at night, or early in the morning - there never really was a cut off for that time - but either way, you were losing a race to sleep, constantly slipping from your fingers before your eyes opened, more awake than the last time. You’d grown to feel guilty about kicking Bucky out of every space you found yourself in, but you didn’t have it in yourself to sit in this room any longer, tracing every bump and scratch on the ceiling.

This time, however, it was different. As you pushed open the door, wiping your eyes as they adjusted to the dark and wandered down the corridor, you could hear scuffling from somewhere down the hallway, and by the time you got to the kitchen, Bucky was still there.

As you pushed the door open wider, Bucky seemed to notice you, freezing like a criminal caught in an act. His stance was almost laughable, leaning slightly forward, a pink mug in his metal hand. His hair was scooped into a small bun at the back of his head, and the light blue vest top seemed to match his wide eyes.

You gave him a faint smile, still feeling sluggish despite your lack of sleep. Bucky’s mouth opened and closed once, eyes shutting for a moment before opening on a loud exhale of breath, straightening his posture. 

His shoulders seemed to hunch, looking between the mug, a newspaper on the small circular table, open a few pages in. “I can go-”

You tried to ignore the ache in your chest that the first words he’d said to you was him offering to leave. “Bucky.” You cut him off, voice sharp but with no malice behind it, “It’s okay, I’m just getting a hot chocolate. Don’t leave because of me.” 

Your head tilted as he seemed to look shocked at your words, bun bouncing as he shook his head at you. “I don’t want to bother you.” He kept the mug clutched close to his chest, other hand reaching for the newspaper.

“You’re not bothering me, I won’t even talk, sit down and read your newspaper in peace.” You walked around to the hot chocolate machine, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he hesitantly sat back down, gazing over his shoulder at you until he caught your eye, quickly turning around.

You smiled softly to yourself, stirring around the drink with the teaspoon, keeping your eyes trained on the brown liquid. Part of you feared to look back up, scared to make him uncomfortable. Really, his presence was comforting, even if the only sound in the room was you stirring the drink and the rustling of paper as he flicked through the pages in his newspaper.

When you did turn around, he was squinting at the text on the page, pulling a face at whatever he was reading before moving along. You took a seat on the barstools, blowing on it as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through some news stories, a few unanswered emails from Sam. The warm taste of the hot chocolate slipping down your throat was almost as comforting as Bucky’s hums at the newspaper every now and again.

You sat like that in silence for god knows how long, even with the brightness turned down on your phone, the white light still illuminated your face as you ventured through your photos app, venturing years and years back. One picture in particular caught your eye, you and Nat just before you had to leave for Wakanda. She was pulling a stupid face at the camera, so normal and usual. You feared you’d never feel that carefree again.

At first, you figured you were imagining the feeling of eyes staring into the side of your head, but as you placed your phone down and picked up your cup, you glanced over to Bucky. His face flushed a little as he coughed, looking at the floor before looking back at you, lips slightly parted.

“You good?” You questioned, switching off your phone as you took a sip.

He nodded slowly, swallowing thickly before frowning, “Did you have another nightmare?” His voice was quiet- it was quiet earlier, but this was the most hesitant you’d ever seen Bucky Barnes. Your eyes must’ve shown your shock, how did he know about your nightmares anyway? He quickly licked his lips, sitting forward, “I’m not trying to be weird, it’s just I can hear you after you wake up sometimes… with the whole super-hearing-thing.”

You smiled slightly, shaking your head at his immediate nervousness, “No, didn’t get the chance tonight. Just couldn’t sleep is all. You?”

“Nightmare.” His eyes flicked from your face to around the room, biting the inside of his cheek.

You instantly regretted your question, seeing as he seemingly built walls around himself. “You wanna talk about it?” You already knew the answer, even before he shook his head, eyes refinding your face. 

You gazed down into the now empty cup, feeling more relaxed than you had in a while. “I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” You stand up, placing it down next to the sink. Your legs moved before you could fully register that you were walking all the way around the counters to walk past Bucky. It was the longer way, the much longer way, but you couldn’t help but slow down next to him, noticing the bags under his eyes. “You should too.” You whispered, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder for a moment before quickly retracting it.

His face froze as your thumb laid over his collarbone, but just as quick as the warmth of your hand appeared, it left as you walked out the room, the door closing softly behind you as he stared at the door.

Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

[⭐]

After that night, it was as if you couldn’t stop seeing Bucky everywhere you went. The times where he’d once ran out of rooms to avoid an encounter seemed long gone by now.

It started with him making you a coffee in the morning, even if he wasn’t around. Then came the books that he’d leave alongside them, sometimes he wrote in the very margins, little things that made you laugh, or notes in the very first page giving you a brief description. You made a point of reading them when he was there, you noticed that he liked to watch you read them. Then, every night, before bed, you’d sit together in the kitchen.

“Do you ever look at something and just think of her?” He asked you one night. His eyes looked heavy, his back hunched as though he was carrying the weight of the world. “Natasha?”

You looked over sadly at him, his eyes trained on the Iron Man mug in his hands. “Everyday.” You whispered with a bittersweet smile. “I go to show her things sometimes, things she would’ve found funny and then it hits me.”

“I do that with Steve.” His voice was barely audible despite the fact there was nobody else here. They found themselves whispering lite that often, as though everybody else was asleep and they didn’t want to wake them up. There was never anybody there. “I guess now I show you the things I’d show him.”

You hummed at that, shoulder brushing with his. 

Eventually, your lives became so intertwined that it seemed like you were shadows of one another. It wasn’t always intentional, but you’d both just show up at the gym at the same time, or go on a walk at the same time. It made sense, as you’d grown closer, that your everyday activities just fit together.

The first time after getting closer to Bucky that Natasha’s death really hit was when you realised how handsome he actually was. Sure, he’d always been an attractive man, but something about how peaceful he looked on a night, watching you so intently as you tilted your head at his snarky comment written in his loopy handwriting. 

You looked up at him, knowing he was already watching, and found his smile so intoxicating you forgot all about the little note for just a second, too busy being far too infatuated with his grin. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to run to Natasha, curl up with your head in her lap as you rambled about how his upturned lips made your heart feel as though it was preparing to make its grand escape out of your chest.

But you couldn’t, so you feigned a smile that you hoped he didn’t notice was fake and made some excuse to use the bathroom in an attempt to avoid the swirl of emotions. By the time the words had left your mouth, you’d already shut the door, taking deep breaths as you splashed your face with water, “Fuck, come on. Pull yourself together.” You murmured, drying your face on the navy towel.

When you exited, you peeked your head out first, hoping your heart would grow used to the sight of him if you watched him a little longer, even though all that did was accentuate the dull ache left by the thought of Nat. Though you quickly came to the conclusion that time couldn’t make this go away.

A few weeks after that, Bucky slept in your room for the first time.

You were a light sleeper and though you’d woken up to Bucky moving around after a nightmare many times, this was different. He’s told you recently in the kitchen one night over a cup of steaming lemon and ginger tea about how bad his nightmares could get. He explained most of them were memories, but the really bad ones, the ones where he couldn’t differentiate the real from the fake, had subsided a little after Wakanda. He’d also said he screamed sometimes.

If this was what he meant, then it was much worse than how he’d described them.

It felt as though somebody had fished around your body and found your heart strings, then tugging sharply. He sounded scared, and in pain, and it took everything in you not to run to his bedside, so instead you sat there, attempting to quiet your own breaths in hope of hearing him moving in the now silence.

You couldn’t tell how long it had been, time seemed to blur as you stared at where you figured the door would be, everything hazy in the dark, but however long it had been, the relief you felt when you heard the three sharp knocks couldn’t be matched.

Springing out of bed, your toes curled at the feeling of the cold wooden floor before feeling your way along the wall, switching on the wall lamp, flooding the room with light on your way to the door. As your hand grazed the doorknob, he knocked again, this time quicker, more desperate.

You pulled at the door quickly, letting the light grace his face like the sun on a soldier back from war. “Bucky?” You whispered softly, seeing his distraught face, his eyes raking over your body, head jerking in small movements as you stood there.

“You’re…” He trailed off, placing his flesh hand over your heart. “You’re okay.” His eyes closed, nodding to himself as his head dropped. You wrapped your own hand over his, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’m okay, you’re okay.” Your voice was gentle as you watched his chest begin to stop moving so violently, letting his shoulders relax, or drop, it didn’t look overly relaxing or comfortable.

He mumbled something, opening his eyes slowly before pulling away his hand, even though he pinned your thumb in between his pointer and middle finger. “I’m sorry, it was just… I had to make sure…”

You walked backwards, pushing the door open with your back, letting your arm stretch out, “Come on.” You whispered, pulling your arm slightly as he still clutched your thumb. Bucky’s mouth opened, standing dumbstruck for a moment before he nodded, walking closer, letting the door shut softly behind him. 

Even as you bent down beside your bed, he never let go of your thumb, and you never tried to pull it away. “What are you doing?” He questioned, voice still shaky but a hint of something else rearing its head, trying desperately to escape his tone.

Smiling, you tugged out a mattress, standing up and letting the arm that was stretched rest for a moment, he tilted his head curiously at it, “You want a blanket?”

Bucky was too stunned to speak, looking between you and your overly kind gesture, “I can’t, you shouldn’t have to-”

“When are you gonna start believing that I’m doing this because I want to, Bucky?” You questioned faintly, wrapping the rest of your fingers around his. “Lay down, please?”

Your eyes seemed to win him over, begging a pleading with him to just let you take care of him. That night was the best sleep he’d had in a while.

The only problem was that after that, he couldn’t do anything without you anymore, he couldn’t fall asleep in his own room, he couldn’t concentrate if you weren’t around. If he thought he was dependent before, this was another level- not that you seemed to mind. He’d just gravitated to that mattress in your room, the next night, he knocked again and you’d left it where it was, almost as though it was waiting for him.

From there, your relationship flourished, even if neither of you ever referred to it as a relationship, or anything really. You were just you and Bucky, there didn't have to be anything else. Despite what Clint suggested when he came to visit, or the raised eyebrows you’d received from Sam.

Sam had committed a full day of trying to get a picture of Bucky looking at you. He seemed to figure it would ignite something in you two, but it proved a harder task than originally thought out. After a full day of hiding his face with his hand whenever Sam would pull out his camera - partly to hide his pink cheeks from you - and pulling a stupid face at the camera, he’d managed to snap one.

You were both in the kitchen, Bucky sat across from you on the barstools as you yapped away, half expecting them both to zone out, but Bucky didn’t. The only time he’d zoned out when words were coming out of your pretty mouth was when you were standing a little too close for his own self control.

In the picture, he was leant forward, resting his tilted head on his wrist, nails grazing his lips as he stared up at you. The very corner of his lip could just be made out, the flash of pink pointing upwards as you didn’t notice him at all, looking down at the pan in your hand, mouth slightly apart. 

When Sam showed it to you, he swore he could trace the hearts in Bucky’s eyes, but you quickly dismissed the idea, shaking your head as he saved it to his favourites folder and murmuring something about how this would be shown at your wedding.

Sure, Bucky was everything, he was your everything, but you weren't about to ruin all of this just because you got selfish.

Sam, being the little shit he was, then tried to show Bucky, but he was even quicker to shove the phone away, insisting he delete it asap, despite the smirk on his face. 

The first time you were away on a mission felt like hell for Bucky. Whilst you could put on a brave face and spend three days in Germany, fighting alongside someone from S.W.O.R.D, his life was a mess without you.

It frightened him how much he seemed to depend on being able to see you while you were sleeping, or the fact that he couldn’t make anything but toast and pasta. Bucky wasn’t fully sure how he’d survived without you before. He’d already lost so many people and he didn’t think he could survive if you disappeared from his life too. You weren’t allowed a phone on the mission, so he couldn’t contact you, his only comfort was the small picture of you he kept in his wallet. 

It was stupid, but you were one of the few photos on his phone, and your face just looked too damn perfect not to fit in the small space. This way, every time he had to leave the house or got to the shops or be separated for the smallest amount of time, you were right there with him. It also helped him remember to bring his wallet- he couldn’t leave you in between the sofa cushions after all.

He’s been alerted of your arrival back an hour before your jet got back, and it seemed like the longest hour he’d ever known. Bucky sat on the bench, he stood up and paced in a circle, he leant against the wall, he sat on the ground, all within the space of ten minutes. But his dirty trousers were worth it as he spotted your face, a cut down your left cheek and a mark on your jaw.

But you were fine, and Bucky couldn’t care less about the agents who stopped and stared as he stepped forward and engulfed you in a hug. Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you froze before wrapping your arms back around him. The two of you were close, but this… this was different.

“I missed you, doll.” He murmured, squeezing you tightly as you hummed.

“Me too, Buck. Me too.” As you pulled apart, his hands cupped your face, careful to avoid the cut. His brows knitted together as he observed your face, eyes flickering around every part of you, only stopping as you let your hands rest on his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t reply, just staring into your eyes, transfixed as people moved around you.

You took his head and led him inside to the compound, into the kitchen. Bucky could feel everything he’d ever felt rise to the very surface as you pushed his shoulders down so he’d sit in a chair as you set off, busying yourself around the kitchen as you tidied away his attempts at cooking something edible.

“I love you.”

The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even had the chance to think or do anything to stop himself. It was stupid, so very very stupid, but you made Bucky a stupid man. He hadn’t even told you he liked you, he felt like he’d skipped through steps that were fairly detrimental to any stage of a relationship, and god he really wanted a relationship. He wanted to call you his and wrap his arms around your body from behind, pepper kisses on your neck-

Bucky was quickly pulled out of his fantasies by you, you could pull him out of anything with one glance, even your presence alone could calm down the waves of self hatred that reared their pathetic heads every now and again. But there you were, a pan in one hand, stopped mid stride as you stared at home with parted lips.

This had to be a bad thing, he thought, you looked like a deer caught in headlights and that didn’t often end well.

He was too busy wrapped up in his whirlwind of feelings to even notice your upturned lips, or the way you neared him, saying his name so softly. He didn’t register anything until your hands found his cheeks, he looked up at you, eyes wide with confusion as he took in your smiling figure. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think an-” His voice was a whisper, scared of losing you through his pure stupidity.

But all those thoughts were put to rest the moment your lips graced his, just a peck, a gentle brush of affection, but the moment he registered just what was happening, he wrapped his arms around your centre, pulling you in between his legs as you stood back up from bending down to his height. You let yourself be pulled in, his head resting against your body as he grinned to himself like a love drunk fool.

He stood up soon after, hands never moving from your back as he kept you flush against him, biting his lip as he looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world - maybe you were. “I had a plan in my head of how this was going to happen.” His words were strained, but the small chuckle that escaped his throat was enough to reassure any doubts in your mind. “But screw it, screw it all, just be mine, please be mine.”

His forehead rested against yours as he closed his eyes. The universe owed him this, it owed him his happy ending, and you yours.

After everything you’d lost in the past year, Bucky had made you smile, he’d made you laugh, he’d made you happy- something you weren’t even sure was possible after you snapped back, after you’d been told of what happened to Nat. But he helped. He didn’t try to fix everything, he didn’t try and bring a magic hammer and smash the broken parts of you back together, you grew together, you helped each other. You understand each other because even on your worst days, he was with you, and he would help, and love, and care.

“I’m yours.”

[twig-tea]

GL Odds and Ends January 2025

I'm still trying to figure out what 2025 means for me in terms of where and how I spend my time, but one thing I am passionate about is making sure there is a record of GL media, so I'm going to try to prioritize keeping this up to at minimum monthly, though I might change up the format. Last one was end of December 2024. If you're interested in GL older than that, check out my GL rec list and my #gl recs tag for the other odds and ends posts. Series new to the roundup are marked with an asterisk*.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to 31 Jan):

Petrichor ep 9/10 (Thai, Saturdays, 10:00 AM ET, iQIYI) I've appreciated the struggle that Tul has gone through in terms of wanting to use her police powers to protect her family though that goes against her morals, and some of the procedural aspects I was grumbling about before have been explained by the plot. However, it still bothers me that she's not a very good detective. That being said, Engfa and Charlotte still have fantastic chemistry, and Na is having what seems like the time of his life.

*Us the series ep 2/12 (Thai, Saturdays, 8:00 AM ET, YouTube) I admit I think I have Chao Planoy fatigue. Age gap, both characters are lying to each other, there are abusive family members, and a guy who seems nice but I'm braced for a reveal about how he's actually awful. I'm feeling like I'm playing bingo. Honestly If someone gets hit by a car I might lose it. All my baggage aside, the pacing on this feels uneven and it doesn't feel like it has its feet yet.

*Call Me By No Name ep 4/8 (Japanese, Thursdays, 12:30 PM ET, GagaOOLala) Honestly I am not buying the romance between these two protagonists and I am finding them a little overwrought.

*Trunk Girl ep 1/? (Korean, possibly Thursdays, YouTube) This has just started, and the vibes are off. I am suspicious of the circumstances that led this runaway to stay with her friend, especially when she kissed her in her sleep (and I don't mean suspicious of sapphic feelings, those are already taken as given considering the genre).

*FirstLOVE ep 5/? (Korean, Mondays, YouTube) Toxic girlfriend gets replaced and then regrets letting her lover go. We'll see how this ends but this is another messy drama that feels pretty rough.

*I Am Devil ep 5/? (Thai, Saturdays, YouTube) Gonna be honest with y'all I watched ep1 and shelved the rest, it's a pulp in the style of high drama like Sastra and JPC below produce and just isn't my jam. If you're looking for high heat lakorn-style drama, give this a try.

[Note: Mate is still airing if you did not fast track, but since I did I've included it in the following section]

Recently Completed:

The Fragrance You inherit 8eps 25mins each (Japanese, 8 Nov 24-27 Dec 24, no official distribution but fansub on @isaksbestpillow's blog[thank you Siiri!] I loved this finale and wrote about it here. For those who don't want to click the link, in short this is not a romance but a really beautiful and sweet show about all kinds of interpersonal relationships.

Pluto 12eps 45 mins each (Thai, 19 Oct 24-04 Jan 25, YouTube) This series showcased the skills and chemistry of Namtan and Film, and had some of the most iconic product placement in a GL to date. The plot was messy but held together, and as much as I was unimpressed with their choices week to week, their choices made sense within the narrative (and genre) being told. I knew this one wasn't for me, but what it was doing, it did pretty well, and beautifully. The one real ding from me was the use of blindness as a metaphor that essentially got handwaved away; that and I think it was doing too much. But I am glad that before that, there was some great use of their platform to highlight the importance of universal design.

INTP 4eps 5 mins each (Korean, 27 Dec 24-22 Jan 25 YouTube) This is the latest short series from RedQ, who produced some of my favourite GL short series including More than or equal to 75 degrees C, and To the Ex who Hated Me. I said when this started that the setup of this one reminded me of Semantic Error if SangWoo realized he was attracted to JaeYoung at their first group assignment meeting, and I think that holds. These two fell for each other because they both care about the group project, and both protect each other. It's a bit short but I found it very sweet.

Mate, 12eps 50+ mins each (Thai, 26 Nov 24-28 Jan 25 fast-track or 4 Feb 25, WeTV (uncut version)) In the end this show remained a struggle for me. There were things it was doing that I really liked (the characters tried hard not to resort to noble idiocy, and when characters did resort to noble idiocy they were confronted with the consequences, for example), and things that I really did not, and there were parts that were really hard to watch and will haunt me. There are a lot of things I like about this show, so I don't want to discourage views. Just go into this one informed, and make the decision that's right for you.

*Adrenaline 4eps 15 mins each (Thai, 10 Jan-31 Jan 25, YouTube) This show is a cross between a travel ad and a lakorn. This is a major spoiler, but the main character has a secret condition where she forgets things that causes her to forget her first time with her girlfriend!? This show is so messy lol

Recent One-offs, Side Couples, etc.:

Fireworks of Yesteryear/When We Met has been made available on YouTube. A 35-minute Chinese GL that includes a makeout and as a result the production team have been working hard to get it in front of eyeballs. This is a moody piece with an open ending; there's an age gap too so YMMV (30s and 22).

GL microseries Your Name Engraved Herein (not to be confused with the BL feature film) has been subtitled by @douqi7s. Watch the original on Bilibili and enjoy the subs on YouTube. This one is also melancholy but it's some really tight storytelling in under 2 mins and manages to feel hopeful even though it's sad.

There is a lesbian side couple in Flirt Milk the series (airing now on iQIYI). This couple Noon and Praewa previously appeared as sides in Love Senior.

There is a new MV featuring a lesbian couple for the artist KnomJean on YouTube. This is one of those MVs that tells a story (TW for family violence) and after getting through the sad backstory, celebrates marriage equality in Thailand.

IdolFactory is re-running GAP the series on YouTube. If you've been putting off watching, now is a good time!

Speaking of re-runs, Yes Or No and the two sequel/spinoffs (Yes or No 2, and Yes or No 2.5) are all newly on GagaOOLala for streaming in some regions (I know for sure they're in North America, not sure about others)

Uranus2324 is starting to show up in particular places on the internet. I watched it and after all of the negative things I'd heard I actually liked it lol I'll see if I can write about it more this week

My suspected wlw sides in See Your Love ended up being implied only I was a little sad about this but at least I wasn't imagining the vibes.

Mom Ped Sawan is still airing but I still don't have a source for subs

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so; that being said I haven't had time recently so if I've missed anything good let me know!

Starting soon:

Reverse With Me (sequel spinoff to Reverse 4 U), Thai, 5 Feb, iQIYI and Ch3+ app

Fragrance of the First Flower s2, Taiwanese, 18 February 2025, GagaOOLala ok this isn't that soon but I'm just so excited we're getting this second season after all!

As always, if I'm missing anything, please let me know!

[peachglazewrites]

𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 ⸙ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: abby anderson x f!reader 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: arguing, misunderstandings, alcohol mention 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: smut (mdni), making out, dry humping 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘: top!Abby, no use of y/n or any reader descriptions 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 10,225

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: The one where you and Mel come home, and lunch just never seems to go to plan.

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ link to fic on ao3 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠: 2559k

The pain in your leg the next day you expected. The pain in your head, however, is another story entirely. Whatever Owen was making needed to be studied. Nothing has ever made your head throb the way yours is right now, and you barely survived Manny’s birthday party.

Mel woke you up a little later than planned, the two of you sleeping through the shrill ringing of the analogue alarm clock set by your bedside, buried too deep under piles of blankets and a very affectionate Shepard-mix to hear it. The sun had already started peeking above the horizon line, sending warm rays of light across the room, battling the frigid air.

The two of you got ready in a hurry, not wanting to be back at base too late in the morning. You were scheduled for work in the afternoon, but were more concerned about making it back before the morning shift change than anything else. It was much easier to explain away your absence to the night-shift skeleton crew who didn’t really care all that much, rather than the day shift workers who felt like they had something to prove. At least that’s what Mel said.

The trip back to base was rougher the second time around, an unfortunate side effect of your dual hangovers and the straining ache in your leg muscles. It felt like your calf was going to rip in two any time you flattened your foot, which was no help when it came time to jump across balconies or crawl through crumbled walls. Mel was patient as all hell though, offering an elbow for you to latch onto when it got especially rough.

You’d definitely need to rest before work today, maybe see if you can make one of those heated pads Abby had. A hot shower will help somewhat, and god, do you need one, anyways. You’ve smelled the aquarium plenty of times on Mel before, but the way you can feel the salt and musk clinging to your skin and clothes is another thing altogether.

You make it back to the gates around nine o’clock, just after the morning shift change. Mel takes the lead in signing you two back in, curving the prying questions of the patrolman at the station, a man you don’t recognise, but Mel clearly does. She slides the clipboard back to him with a forced smile when she’s done, tugging both you and Alice along behind her.

“They’re always so nosey. It was so much easier when we could plan around when Olivia was on duty,” Mel murmurs to you, walking up the stone path to the kennels.

“What happened to Olivia?” You ask, looking behind you, back at the guard booth.

“Got transferred out. I think she’s at the Serevena now.” Mel shrugs, unlocking and holding the gate to the kennels open for you and Alice.

Alice is an angel as you sign her back in, waiting patiently by Mel’s feet as the two of you talk to Aaron. Eventually one of the trainers comes by, clipping a lead onto her harness and leading her away, probably off to be bathed. She smells almost as much as you two do, the scent clinging to her thick fur.

“I miss her already,” you sigh, watching Alice trot off, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she pants.

“You spoil her too much,” Mel chuckles, holding out her elbow for you as you broach the stairs.

You slip your arm through hers, linking them together. The extra support is nice as you make your way up the stone steps, helping you take some of the pressure off your leg as you pull yourself along. “That’s funny, because I don’t think anyone else is taking their dogs out on mini vacations to abandoned aquariums.”

Mel’s eyes roll, a smile playing at her lips. “Alright, keep walking.”

You take it slow on your walk back to the room, shifting your duffel bag from one shoulder to the other to help balance the weight across your body, your limp becoming more obvious. You’ll definitely need to sit today at work, which isn’t ideal, but that’s just how life is for you now. No use trying to fight against it.

Mel trails behind as you walk down the hallway, pushing past the doors leading to the residential suites.

“It’s not that bad.”

“That’s because you’re used to it. I can still smell the algae, like it’s stuck in my nose.” You wrinkle your nose, scrubbing it with the back of your hand.

“Hey, you were the one who tried climbing that fake coral,” Mel says, raising a brow at you when you turn around, walking backwards to talk to her.

“If I wasn’t supposed to climb it, then why did it look so climbable?”

You bump your back into the next set of double doors, pushing it open with your hip. “You just hate fun.”

“And you love complaining,” she retorts, stifling a laugh as you wave her off, stepping into the hallway and letting the door close behind you.

“Hey--!” Mel’s voice muffles as the door clicks shut, separating the two of you. You snicker to yourself, leaving her behind to continue down the hallway to your room.

Well, you would, if there wasn’t someone standing in front of it already.

She’s wearing a pair of belted cargos, dark green long sleeve tucked into the waistband. Her pants are rolled at the ankle, high enough to fit her dark combat boots, the brown leather having been freshly waxed. Her signature braid hangs over her shoulder, the tail brushing the middle of her chest.

Abby.

The keychain burns in your back pocket as you slow to a stop, a pleasant warmth blanketing you at just the mere sight of her.

Abby knocks once more on your door, tilting her head close to the wood, listening. She chews on her cheek as she waits, sighing when there’s no response. Her forehead butts against the door for a moment, eyes closed, before she’s pushing herself back and turning away.

“Kind of hard to answer when I’m not home,” you say, smiling at the way her head whips up to look at you.

The little pout her lips were pressed into smooths out, twitching into a soft smile at the sight of you, eyes roaming your figure. Her shoulders drop, almost in relief as the tension seeps out of them. She takes a couple of long strides to get to you, hand already reaching out for your own, your name tumbling from her lips.

The door behind you opens, just enough for Mel to slip through.

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, wriggling her duffel through the gap as the door shuts behind her.

Abby stops, steps faltering at Mel’s entry. Her hand slips back to her side, your fingers twitching as she pulls away from you. Her eyes are trained over your shoulder, no doubt to where Mel stands in the doorway.

It’s quiet. Tense. Nobody is moving or saying anything, and you feel the air of the hall get thicker and thicker as the seconds go by.

You startle when Mel places a hand on your shoulder, gentle and kind. You didn’t even hear her approach.

“I’m going to go shower,” she says, voice level as she looks at you, ignoring the other person in the hall.

Abby’s eyes flick to the hand on your shoulder, and you can see the cogs turning in her head as she stares, brows furrowing. You know this look, the one she gets when she’s unsure, confused.

“Okay, I’ll meet you down there in a bit.”

Mel nods, squeezing your shoulder as she walks past. She doesn’t spare a glance Abby’s way, looking down into her pocket to fish out her keys, taking her time in unlocking the door and disappearing inside the room.

The soft click of the doorhandle catching snaps Abby out of her thoughts, blinking them away. You fiddle with the strap of your duffel in the silence, moving to lean against the wall next to you, leg aching.

You break first.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Abby says back, face relaxing as she looks up, taking you in.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” She meets you at the wall, leaning her shoulder against it. Her hand comes out, and as if there was a magnet connecting you, you reach out too, hooking your index fingers together. “I came by last night to see if you wanted to come over, but nobody answered. Thought you were asleep, so I figured I’d come by this morning, but you still weren’t answering.” She looks you up and down, a small smile on her lips. “Now I know why.”

“Sorry,” you apologise, sheepish, squeezing her hand. “I should have left a note or something.”

“Where did you go?” She brings her other hand up, reaching across to swipe a thumb against a smudge of dirt along your jaw. “You leave base?”

“I—”

You’re interrupted by the door opening again, Mel pushing through with her shower caddy in tow. Abby tenses, hand falling from your cheek. She nearly steps away, but you keep your grip on her hand, pulling her back to you.

Mel locks up behind her and leaves the opposite way, making a point to turn her back to the two of you.

“I was out with Mel,” you say once Mel leaves, pushing through the doors at the opposite end of the hall.

Abby raises an eyebrow, letting herself be pulled closer when you tug on her hand again. “And you’re alive?”

You huff, a small smile playing on your lips. “I survived, yes.” You cup her cheek, feeling her smooth skin under your palm. “I don’t want to get into it here, though. But maybe if we got lunch? Tomorrow?”

Abby leans into your hand, lips pressing back into that little pout. It’s horribly cute.

“Why not today?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was whining, but Abby Anderson does not whine. Or so she says any time you tease her for it.

“I have work in a few hours and want to shower and rest beforehand.” Your thumb sweeps over her jaw, across her bottom lip where it juts out slightly. “Need to give my leg a break.”

A small kiss is pressed to your thumb, then a dull pressure as Abby nips at it.

“And this is why I’m saying tomorrow,” you scold playfully, dragging your thumb across her bottom lip. “I have a break in my shifts tomorrow, so you’ll get me for a couple of hours if you want to come over. We can grab some food, and I can fill you in on everything.”

You lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to her pursed lips. You’re both conscious of being out in the hallway, so you pull back all too soon. Abby still pushes back in for another quick peck, hand coming up to wrap around your wrist, holding it gently.

“Okay,” she sighs, breath fanning over your palm. “Tomorrow.”

⸙

Lunch doesn’t go exactly to plan.

You’d met Abby down in the caf, making small talk in line as you waited for your turn to order. Chicken noodle soup was on the menu today, the perfect meal for this particularly cold day.

Your soup now sits forgotten on the dining table, cooling off in the bag Abby used to transport it back to your room.

You also sit on the table, perched on the edge, Abby standing between your spread legs as you kiss.

One of your hands is caught up in her hair, the other pressed behind you, holding you up as Abby leans over you. She’s got a hand on your lower back and the other holding your side, thumb smoothing along your ribs. The kiss is slow, languid, feeling each other as your tongues touch, exploring.

Soft sighs and quiet moans occupy the space between you, the air getting heavier with your warmth. She feels so nice to touch, broad but soft, angles that curve and smooth under your hands. She’s lovely and beautiful and you want her as close to you as possible.

You shift towards the edge of the table, clenching your thighs around her own. Her hand snakes down from your lower back to hold one of your thighs, picking it up and pulling you closer. She hooks it up around her hip, and you can’t help the sigh that tumbles from you lips at the friction. There’s a warmth blooming between your thighs, a low thrum that has you melting against her.

Abby strays from your lips, slowly working her way down your jaw, smirking as you tilt your head to the side, giving her room to mouth at your neck.

“Abby…” Your nails dig into the wood of the table as she slides her tongue along your pulse point, sucking the skin into her mouth. “C-Careful,” you stutter, voice hiccupping as she moves on, grazing her teeth over a particularly sensitive spot. “Don’t leave more marks… embarrassing at work.”

“Nothing they haven’t seen already,” she murmurs, pinching the skin between her teeth.

A moan hitches your breath as you grip the hair tangled between your fingers, tugging. Why was that so hot?

“M’being serious.” You pull her up by her hair, butting your foreheads together. “Not where people can see.”

Abby’s smirk widens, pressing her lips back to your own as her hand wanders back down your thigh. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“S’okay”, you laugh, gasping as her hand gropes at your ass, using it to pull you impossibly closer. You sling your other leg around her, hooking your ankles together behind her, dragging her in to kiss her deeply.

The thumb that’s been brushing along your ribs inches slowly higher, and she can feel the way your breathing picks up under her palm. You bite back a noise when she runs it along the underside of your breast, sparks blooming and tingling down to your fingertips. She doesn’t stop there though, continuing higher and higher until she’s circling your nipple, feeling it pebble and harden through the cup of your bra.

“Oh,” you gasp, pressing your chest against her own, seeking more of the featherlight touch. Abby hums, hand shifting to cup you properly, thumb and forefinger slowly working you over.

You can’t help the hitch in your hips, the way you grind up against her. Abby groans into the kiss, pushing it past your lips, shuddering at the friction. She presses forwards, using her height to pin your hips to the table, starting a steady roll against them.

The way you have your legs spread wide to fit her already has the seam of your pants digging delicious up against your cunt, Abby’s shallow thrusts adding to the pressure.

You’d give anything to lay out on this table and let her have her way with you, but you’re not so far gone yet to realise that’s probably not a good idea.

“We should—” A particularly sharp hitch of her hips has pressure focusing on your clit, a moan interrupting your sentence. “S-Should move to the bed… Mel will kill me if we…” you trail off, words dissolving into a soft whimper.

𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ link to fic on ao3 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[lokidjarin-7567]

Can you write a fanfic (only if you're comfortable of course) pairing kang dae-ho x f!reader, during the lights out. Basically they've developed a really strong connection since the beggining, and she's sleeping next to him while he's looking out for others (ok he's just basically watching you sleep). But you shift your position while sleeping and he sees sh scars on your wrist, and folds your sleeves and he sees multiple cuts and scars. You wake up from the motions and you see him with teary eyes and then you start to cry a lot, like having a panic attack and he comforts you and it's just a lot of fluff basically. (the reason from your cuts can be because you're deeply depressed and you're coping that way since you're 15 but at 21 you still do it)

But, if you don't feel comfortable writing about sh can you please write one also during the light out when dae-ho is on the look out and the reader is trying to sleep, but she's so scared of what's going to happen that she starts crying, he notices it, she has a panic attack and he pulls her to his lap comforting her (again really fluffy).

I'm almost one year clean so I was craving this kind of comfort, thank you <3

Your wish is my command 🫡 (sorry so cheesy)

Creature Comforts

Kang Dae-ho x reader

CW: mentions of self harm, please please do not read if you’re not comfortable with this!!, fluff and comfort

So happy to get this request - my first one!! Please send any in if you have them, I love writing them <3 And please message me if you’re having thoughts about SH or struggling with it at all, my DMs are always open 🩷

Masterlist | AO3

She looked so peaceful when she slept. She was curled up on the mattress beside where he was keeping guard, her chest rising and falling with each breath. It was mesmerising. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, some straying into her face, strands lying delicately on her cheek. The lower half of her body was covered with a thin blanket, her top half cuddled into her jumper.

He had never seen her this calm. They had gotten close quickly in these games - the fear and horror acting as a catalyst for friendship - and he found himself getting protective over her fast. They’d first met after the first game, when Thanos and his lackey had approached her to join their little group, and he’d felt the inexplicable urge to tell him she was already spoken for. Surprisingly, she agreed with him quickly, saying she had already made her allies and hurried quickly away from that purple-haired joke. She thanked him wholeheartedly when they were out of earshot, confirming that there was something about him that made her uncomfortable so she appreciated being saved (her words, not his.) They had been inseparable since - sharing meals, sticking together in games, voting together, even bunking next to each other. When Gi-hun said that two people should always be keeping watch tonight, they didn’t even have to say they would take their shift together - it was just assumed.

But when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. She looked ethereal in the dim light of the room, her hair like a halo, the sound of her breathing a symphony to his ears. Soothing. He could watch her for hours, totally enthralled and at peace. His hand moved to brush a piece of hair from her face, feeling the softness of the lock between his fingers, fingertips lingering just a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek. So he just sat beside her. He wasn’t tired yet; he could take her shift. Anything to protect her really. A few extra hours can be the difference between life and death here.

The rise and fall of her body suddenly changed rhythm, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She rolled over in her sleep to face him, and he held his breath, scared that the smallest shift might wake her. She settled back in quickly though, and he watched with a soft smile as her arms fell beside her body, head snuggling into the pillow.

He wanted to wake up like this every morning, hearing her gentle sighs and soft snores, to see the peace on her face before she woke. He had only known her a few days, but it felt like a lifetime when they spent every minute fearing for their life. He felt so unbelievably protective of her so fast. He didn’t think she was incapable of handling herself - she’d proven the opposite through this ordeal. But he didn’t want her to have to worry about that ever again. As soon as they were out of there, he would do anything to make sure she wasn’t scared ever again.

Her hair had fallen across her face again, and in the dim light, he worked carefully to move it, tucking it gently behind her ear. Then he noticed her blankets falling down a little, pooling around her waist, so he pulled it up to her shoulders. Then the cuff of her jacket was slipping, so he gently grabbed the fabric, moving to fix her sleeve, when he noticed something. There were a few scars there, barely noticeable in the dim light of the room, so he allowed his curiosity and protective nature get the better of him. Ever so cautiously, he slipped her sleeve down just a little, just enough to see the scars that littered her forearms. Some were newer than others, others long since healed, but they were unmistakable.

His heart hurt for her. Life in these games was hard enough, but he could only imagine what awaited her outside to have to…

He wasn’t sure what to do. If he addressed it, he might lose her trust. She might get embarrassed that he knew and withdraw. If he didn’t, and she somehow worked out that he knew, she would think he didn’t care.

It wasn’t something he understood completely - a few of his friends from the military struggled with self-harm, but he didn’t tend to ask them too many questions. They had PTSD, so maybe she had that too? Or something else that was making her hurt badly enough to… all he really knew was that she didn’t have any healthy avenues to alleviate her stress and emotion. He wanted to help, to hold her and tell her everything would always be okay around him, that she shouldn’t ever hurt herself again… but he knew that was condescending and naive. What he really needed to do was let her talk to him if he wanted, listen, and if there was anyway she wanted him to help, he would…

His plans were foiled though, as she woke slowly, eyes blinking open. He was lost in thought, fingers still hooked around her cuff, and he was frozen as her eyes widened, locking on her arms and where his skin was against her. She started to back away, shuffling quickly as she adjusted, fear taking over her features.

“What’re you…” she muttered quietly, pulling her sleeves back to her hands as tears started to form in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out quickly, face turning red. “You turned over and I saw something so I was curious, I didn’t mean to wake you I… I’m so sorry.” She had pulled her knees to her chest, shaking slightly. “Hey, listen to me, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I…” he slowed down when he realised she was crying, her whole body heaving with deep, pained breaths, her hands fisting the blankets around her. He muttered her name quietly, but she didn’t respond, her legs falling down as her breathing got more and more erratic.

Oh God, he’d ruined everything.

***

It had happened so quickly. One minute you were asleep, the next, you opened your eyes to see Dae-ho beside you. At first, you were happy just to see him, his face and demeanour and everything about him a comfort to you throughout this game. Then you noticed the way he was looking at you. A mixture of pain and confusion and worry was contorted across his face, and then you saw where he was looking.

Your sleeve must had rolled in your sleep, and he was looking at your now bare wrist, his fingers softly brushing against it. You snatched her arm away quickly, fear clouding your mind as you shuffled back.

He had seen.

Oh God, I’ve ruined everything.

There was no questioning that fact. He knew. One of your deepest secrets, one of the things you were most ashamed of. And now, the person you trusted most in here knew. What would he think? Would he view you differently? As weak? As insane? As someone who didn’t deserve to be here around people who wanted to live more than you?

All you had ever wanted was to be seen as normal. And however awful this place was, you finally had that. You had found someone who viewed you as an equal, an ally even. You weren’t the unstable girl who cut herself, or the friend no one could rely on due to unpredictable bouts of depression or anxiety, or the shitty daughter who kept to herself. You were helpful, normal even. But now?

You hadn’t noticed your breathing start to shallow until it was too late. Your vision started to go fuzzy, mind screaming that you’d let someone too close, that they would never see you the same and it was all your fault. Again.

You heard him call your name, but it felt far away, like you were trapped in a bubble and everything outside was muffled. You were paralysed with an inexplicable terror, tears streaming down your face.

Unsurprisingly, given where you were, it wasn’t the first time you’d had a panic attack in front of him. They’d been pretty consistent, after every game, during some, but now, somehow this was the worst. For some reason, someone truly knowing you was scarier than the prospect of looming death.

It took a while for your vision to come back into focus, and when it did, all you could see was his face.

“Hey, look at me, breathe, ok? Here…” he carefully placed his hand on yours, and when you didn’t pull away, picked it up and held it to his chest. “Follow my breaths, ok? In….” You did your best to follow along, stuttering slightly, but he smiled ever so softly even if you weren’t doing it perfectly. “Good, and out..” He repeated the motion a few times, and you followed until your breathing was steady enough to talk. “There we go.” He muttered gently, a hand straying to your face to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

“I’m so sorry, Dae-ho…” it was all you could choke out, already close to tears again, but he shushed you quickly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s none of my business, but I need you to know that I would never judge you… not for anything. Especially not for something that isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is, I…”

“It’s not. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best and I’m here for you. As long as you know that, that’s all that matters.” You were crying again, his words a comfort you had never heard before. Not a moment after the first tear fell his arms were around you, pulling you tight to him and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t even speak to thank him, so you squeezed his arm instead, feeling him smile into the top of your head. You had never felt so much kindness before, so much understanding… and maybe it said something about the people around you, but you couldn’t think about that. Right now, all you could think about was the way he was holding you close, the way his breaths aligned with yours, and the way he made you feel like everything was actually going to be ok.

[skyward-floored]

IAU requests you say? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

okay okay hmmmmm what about some bby Hyrule angst? as he's adjusting to living with the others? :3

- hero-of-the-wolf

@hero-of-the-wolf I hope you don’t mind I mixed these two asks together a bit to write this! I couldn’t resist the allure of a sickfic lol. This also fits with today’s febuwhump prompt, which is “holding back tears”, heh.

This takes place not long after Hyrule comes along, maybe a month or two. Little guy is still very much adjusting 😔

Warning for some throwing up, and some mentions of past child abuse.

————————————————————

It started with a twinge, a tiny ache.

Hyrule’s heart sank the moment he woke up and felt it, a little sting when he swallowed, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hurriedly brushed it aside when Four gave him a curious look, and went downstairs for breakfast, trying to tell himself it was only his imagination. He was fine.

It got harder to ignore as the day went on though, the lump in his stomach turning to nausea, the sting in his throat a true ache. But Hyrule kept ignoring it, trying to act normal, making sure he did anything that was asked of him without any complaint. He did the bit of handwriting Malon had started him on, helped sweep the floor, healed Wind’s scraped knee when he came to him crying, and despite the shake in his legs and the buzz in his head that only got worse, he kept it up.

Being sick made things harder, but Hyrule knew complaining only made it worse. Somewhere in his head he knew his new family wasn’t like any of his old caretakers, wouldn’t scream at him for slowing down or healing less intensely than normal, but Hyrule had still only been with them a little while now.

Who was to say what they thought about being sick? He couldn’t be useful if he was sick. What if they kicked him out when they realized?

Hyrule’s heart skipped a beat. No. It was safer to hide it. Even if they didn’t kick him out, whining about a little dizziness and nausea would only be an annoyance. He would just ignore it, and wait for it to go away like he always did.

Or, that was the plan, anyway.

Hyrule had forced himself to eat dinner that night, knowing Malon and Time didn’t like it when he left food on his plate. His stomach felt way worse after he finished, but he ignored it, and managed to get through the rest of the evening without any incidents. He got ready for bed promptly, avoided Twilight’s nose that seemed to sniff out everything, dodged Wild and Legend who were wrestling in the bathroom, and finally curled up in bed with a sigh. He felt better lying down at least.

He lightly dozed until Malon came in to tuck Wind and Four in bed, and he watched her quietly as she read them a story, then settled them in bed. Would Malon really be mad if he was sick? She was always so nice, and when he’d still had his cough from the fire, she hadn’t been annoyed then.

But...

“You worthless brat!”

Hyrule sighed and lowered his head as his stomach rolled. He didn’t know.

Time came in and said goodnight to them all before leaving again, busy with something with work, and Malon came over to Hyrule, having finished with Wind and Four. She tucked him in and kissed his head, but then she hesitated a moment when she drew back, looking at him with a slight squint.

“Is everything okay, hon?” she asked. Hyrule’s stomach seemed to churn more sharply at the question, but he quickly nodded, trying his best to look healthy.

Malon still looked a little suspicious, her brows furrowed, but she nodded in turn and stood up.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Goodnight sweetie,” she said, and Hyrule said goodnight back to her, curling up as she left the room and trying to ignore his stomach so he could sleep.

Sleep didn’t seem to want to come though. He was plenty tired, but his nausea rolled through him in a way that made it impossible to sleep. Hyrule would just manage to doze off a little when his stomach would churn, and he’d have to reposition himself before trying to sleep again.

There was a pressing on his throat now too, one that only lessened a little when he swallowed, and Hyrule tried desperately to ignore it. He even tried using a little spurt of his powers on himself, hoping it would help something, but all it served to do was make him dizzier. It must have been the middle of the night by now, and he’d barely slept a wink.

Hyrule rolled over again, clutching his blanket to himself as he bit his tongue.

I’m fine. It’s just a stomachache. Go to sleep.

Hyrule’s stomach rumbled in a bad way, and he curled in tighter on himself.

It’s okay, it’s just an ache, you’re fine.

His stomach rolled more sharply. The pressing on his throat grew worse, and Hyrule whimpered.

You’re fine you’re fine you’re fineyou’refineyou’refine—

His stomach lurched, the pressing on his throat reaching the point of no return, and Hyrule stumbled out of bed, holding his hand over his mouth as he scrambled for the bathroom.

He only made it about halfway down the hallway before he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Hyrule stumbled over and vomited all over the floor, unable to stop himself. Tears pricked at his eyes as he threw up, his throat burning, and all he could do was retch for several moments, all while trying to be as quiet as possible.

Finally his stomach finished rebelling, and Hyrule sank down to his knees, a ragged hiccup escaping him. He hated throwing up. And he didn’t even feel any better than he had before.

Hyrule let out a soft moan, clutching at his stomach, then braced himself before opening his eyes. It was even worse than he’d been expecting, and Hyrule began to shake as he stared at the mess of what used to be his dinner on the floor, mind whirling with dizziness and sudden terror.

He’d thrown up all over the floor, and a rug.

No no no no you ruined it you wrecked their things they’re going to punish you—

Hyrule nearly threw up again as memories lodged in his head of other sicknesses, voices screeching in his ears, head spinning. Being yelled at for daring to throw up, told to clean up his own mess, berated for being too weak to heal and kicked around one time when he just couldn’t make his trembling body move—

Hyrule clutched at his hair, and tried to take in steadying breaths.

No. No, he would figure this out. He would clean it up, and nobody would even know. There had to be cleaning supplies around somewhere, right? He knew where Malon kept a few things, but not stuff that would helpful for this. But surely the bathroom had cleaners somewhere?

He’d start there.

Hyrule swallowed back the burn in his throat, and dizzily stumbled to his feet, hurrying on shaking legs to the bathroom. Nobody was using it thank goodness, and despite how his head hurt even more as he flicked the light on, he firmly ignored it, looking carefully in the cabinet and drawers. His hands shook as he dug around, trying not to disturb anything too much, and the tight feeling in his stomach only increased, due to both nausea and emotion.

You’ll clean it up it’ll be fine you’ll clean it up and nobody will know and nothing will happen.

Hyrule finally found an old towel next to some sponges, one obviously used to clean with. Hyrule sagged in relief and snatched it up, heading back to the hallway. His vomit was obvious in the faint moonlight from the window, and Hyrule swallowed as he looked at it, stomach lurching as the smell hit him.

No no no, get it together. You’ve got to clean it up.

Hyrule breathed in harshly through his nose, turning away to get fresh air, then turned back once he felt his stomach was settled enough. He could do this. He wasn’t going to make even more of a mess.

Hyrule swallowed, the action hurting his throat, and started mopping up the mess, trying to hold his breath. The towel only sort of worked, his sick thick enough that he was mostly just spreading it around, and after a few moments Hyrule stopped with an anxious tap of his fingers. What else could he do? And even when he did manage to clean up the mess, where was he going to put it?

Hyrule stared dumbly at the vomit, feeling gross in multiple senses of the word.

He didn’t want to be sitting here next to his sick, trying to figure out how to clean it up while his head ached and his stomach twisted and his hands shook with fear.

He just wanted to go back to bed.

Hyrule bit his lip to stop himself from crying again, and tried to calm down. Maybe he should look for something he could throw out? That would be the easiest way to get rid of it. There were lunch bags downstairs... that might work. How was he going to get the mess into the bag though?

Hyrule stared at it again, trying to get his exhausted brain to think, but nothing was coming to mind.

And then he heard the floor creak.

Hyrule froze, his hearing seeming to sharpen at that single noise. Another creak rang out from the direction of Time and Malon’s room only a few paces away, and Hyrule’s breath caught, panic making his stomach lurch.

They’re going to see.

They woke up they’re going to see they’re going hate me they—

A shield flickered around him without his permission, making Hyrule’s dizziness worse as he quickly dropped it again. The pressing feeling came back into his throat, panic making him shake, fear pounding in his chest and squeezing so tight his lungs hurt.

His stomach lurched, and as the door opened, Hyrule threw up again right beside where he had before.

“Oh— good grief kiddo—”

Hyrule’s retching mixed with sobs he couldn’t hold back, and he barely heard the footsteps over his heart pounding in his ears, terror freezing him in place. A hand settled on his back, and Hyrule nearly choked, only crying harder as it began to rub.

“Just get it out Hyrule, it’s okay,” a voice said, and he let out a miserable noise, trying desperately to stop throwing up. There was barely anything in his stomach now, but things kept coming up anyway, bile burning as it went up his throat.

Finally he got his heaving under control, and Hyrule trembled as he looked up, feeling sick and disgusting and terrified.

Time knelt beside him, face creased, and Hyrule shrank in on himself, trying to hurriedly wipe his tears away. Crying always made it worse.

It didn’t here, a voice whispered in his head, reminding him of comforting arms wrapped around him while he sobbed, but the memory was lost in his headache and twisting stomach and weight of worse memories.

“Are you finished?” Time asked softly, and Hyrule sniffled, managing to nod. “Hyrule, what happened?”

“I w-was— I was t-trying to get to the bathroom, b-but I couldn’t do it— and I was trying t-to clean it, but— I’m sorry,” he choked out, more tears welling in his eyes.

Time looked at him with what might have been concern, but then Malon appeared in the doorway, and Hyrule’s gaze flicked to her. She looked... disgusted.

“Oh sweetie,” Malon sighed as she looked at the mess, and Hyrule was sure that meant she was mad. She flicked the light on so they could see better, then knelt down beside him and Time, taking in his trembling, disgusting, teary form. “Have you felt sick all day?”

Hyrule gave a tiny nod, and Malon sighed again, Hyrule flinching at the sound.

“Were you trying to clean this up by yourself?” Time questioned, and Hyrule bit his lip.

“Yes. I’m sorry I-I woke you,” he croaked, looking down at the floor as more tears dripped down his face. “I’ll— I’ll clean it. I’ll be quiet, I w-won’t bother you anymore.”

“Hyrule, you— honey, goodness, you don’t need to clean this up, we’ll handle it,” Malon said worriedly, and Hyrule stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

“But I made th-the mess, it’s my fault, I should clean it—”

“Link, you’re sick. Your job right now is to rest,” Time said patiently, leaning over and picking up the towel Hyrule had attempted to clean with. Time and Malon briefly met eyes, and he gave a small nod. “We’ll take care of it.”

Hyrule blinked at him, beyond confused. “But I... I ruined the rug,” he whispered, shrinking into himself while he expected a yell or smack.

To his surprise, Time laughed.

“Hyrule, this rug has had plenty of things happen to it, a little vomit will hardly ruin it,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not even the first kid to throw up on it.”

“I’m not?” Hyrule peeped, and Time nodded.

“You’re not. And even if you were, it’s just a rug,” Malon assured, then gently took his hand. “You look pretty rough, sweetie. What do you say we get you cleaned up?”

Hyrule hesitated, still extremely confused, but finally nodded. He didn’t have to clean it up? They weren’t mad?

That just... didn’t make any sense.

A trick?

Hyrule swallowed. He would maybe question it more, but he still felt terrible and too tired to argue. If it was a trick, he didn’t have the energy to try and get out of it. So he let Malon gently tug him back to the bathroom, fetching him some clean pajamas and cleaning the vomit from his chin and hands.

At some point while she cleaned him up he realized he was crying again, but he didn’t even know why. He was just exhausted. Malon gently wiped his tears away too, and once he was all cleaned up, Hyrule let her put her arm around him.

He sniffled, still feeling sick and dizzy, but... better, with the contact.

Maybe... maybe it wasn’t a trick.

Malon rubbed his back for a few moments, then picked him up, Hyrule resting a shaky head on her shoulder. They left the bathroom, and passed Time cleaning up in the hallway, Hyrule feeling that horrible shrivel of guilt and fear in his stomach again. But Time only kept cleaning, and Malon carried Hyrule back to his room, sitting down on the bed with him as she brushed sweaty hair from his forehead.

“You don’t feel too warm... does your stomach still hurt?” Malon asked softly so as not to wake anyone else in the room, and Hyrule gave a little nod. “Would you like to try some ginger ale? That seems to help your brothers when they’re nauseous.”

The mere idea of drinking anything only made his stomach hurt more, and Hyrule quickly shook his head.

“Okay. Maybe we can try some in the morning,” Malon said, and silence fell over them, Hyrule still letting out an occasional soft sniffle.

He still didn’t know what to think about all this, and was too exhausted to puzzle through it anymore. He was completely sure that Malon had been disgusted by his throw up, but she’d still cleaned it off of him. He’d interrupted Time’s sleep while he was especially busy with work, but he’d still rubbed his back while he was being sick and was cleaning up his mess.

He didn’t understand. He just didn’t understand.

Malon covered up a small yawn, still running a hand over his head, and looked down when Hyrule sniffled again.

“You don’t have to hide when you’re sick, Hyrule,” Malon began quietly, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her. “I know it’s hard to tell us when something is wrong. But we want to help you, and we can’t do that if we don’t know that there’s a problem.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Malon sighed again.

“And you don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. We’re all still figuring this out. And you can’t help being sick, it’s just one of those things,” she said gently. “You feel okay enough to go back to sleep? You look like you could use it.”

Hyrule gave a tiny shrug. He didn’t know. His stomach still hurt a lot, and even though he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up again right now, his throat and head both hurt, and he felt dizzy when he moved too fast. He didn’t know if sleep was going to happen.

Time walked in while he was thinking, and Hyrule looked up, blinking at the pail he was holding.

“Here we go. If you feel like you can’t make it to the bathroom, you can throw up in here,” Time explained, setting the bucket by the bed. “Then you don’t have to worry about making a run for it.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Malon asked.

Both of them looked at him, expressions worried, and Hyrule felt his eyes sting again, lip trembling.

The last time he’d been sick like this, he’d had a bucket thrown at him and been told to keep the noise to a minimum, then been essentially left alone for a week. It had been all he could do just to drag himself to the bathroom when he needed it, to say less of the day his healing had been needed in the middle of everything.

But this time... it had just...

Hyrule buried his face in Malon’s shoulder, his tears back again for a different reason, and she made a worried noise, holding him tighter.

“I-I’m— I don’t n-need anything,” Hyrule managed to hiccup out through his sobs, voice muffled by Malon’s shirt. “I— thanks.”

His voice broke into an embarrassing squeak, and he rubbed at his eyes, still puffy from his earlier tears. He just couldn’t stop crying tonight.

He hated being sick. He hated it so much.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Try to calm down a little,” Malon soothed, and Time sat down next to her, setting a hand on Hyrule’s back again. “Take some deep breaths. It’s okay.”

Malon began to hum the song Hyrule had heard her sing around the house before, one that he really liked. Time stayed quiet, but he didn’t move his hand from Hyrule’s back, and it felt warm where it rested near his shoulder. They both felt warm and safe, safe like wisps of memory Hyrule could barely recall, safe like the night they told him they loved him, and wanted him to stay.

Safe like being told he was family.

Hyrule shakily breathed in, then out, relaxing into their hold. His tears began to slow, then stop, leaving him even more exhausted than before, even with the tiredness from being sick. A blanket got set over him at some point, and his eyes drifted closed, the terrified feelings he’d been trying to overcome all day finally easing.

His stomach still hurt, he still felt sick, but it was less extreme, and he felt... better. In more than one way.

Hyrule finally relaxed, safe in the arms around him, and drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge he would be taken care of when he woke back up.

[strwbrryscent]

೯ ⁺ 𖥻 no more paradise on earth . ᰋ

Social media au / Some written parts !

summary: Reader was a Kook as a child, always hanging around Sarah and Rafe, becoming best friends with them really quickly, in part because her parents were the richest family on the island. Due the sudden death of her parents, the Camerons got custody of her. But while living with them she discovered things that maybe she wasn’t meant to know, especially the truth about her parents death and the disappearance of Big John Routledge.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Ex Kook! Pogue!Reader

warnings: english is not my first language, so there may be some grammar errors, if you notice please let me know

NAVIGATION ! 05 ⌯ 06 ⌯ 07 masterlist. 𝜗𝜚

It was a habit that you two had, when someone was down or feeling sad he just went to sleep in the other’s room. It was something that you did since you were children.

You remember vividly the first time that it happened. It was winter and you were having a sleepover with Sarah, when your friend fell asleep you got scared because it was storming outside and you instinctively ran towards Rafe’s room, you didn’t know each other that well at the time but you were too embarrassed to wake up Sarah. When he saw you he was confused but he just made space for you in the bed, under the blankets, staying up all night just in case you would wake up and get scared again.

Since then when something bad happens to you and you don’t know what to do you just go inside his room and seek for comfort. You don’t necessarily talk, you just stay in his arms.

Today was no different, you couldn’t avoid the fact that you were feeling nauseous, especially because he knows you too much for you to deny it. So you just put on your pyjamas, took off your makeup and quietly left the room.

When you arrived the door was already cracked open, on the other side of it there was Rafe waiting for you. It didn’t took you much to get inside the room and closing the door behind you, after everything that happened to you in the last couple of days you felt like you deserved it.

“Hi” you said in a quiet tone, making your way towards his bed, “Hi” he replied, making you space next to him on the bed.

You just walked over, slipping under the blankets as your head found the comfort of his chest with him wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened? You look upset since we came back from dad’s office” his fingers gently playing with strands of hair he found on your shoulder.

“It’s nothing, i just feel dizzy and” not even the time to finish your sentence that you were interrupted again by the boy, this Cameron behaviour of interrupting people needs to stop.

“Liar” he said before stopping for a second, trying to think about something else, “If you didn’t want to talk about it you could’ve just said that, when you lie you speak in a quieter tone of voice”

“You need to stop interrupting people when they talk” you replied, pinching his biceps causing him to scrunch his nose a little bit.

“I hate you” he said, “You don’t, let me sleep now”

And with that you turned on your side, closing your eyes as you felt Rafe’s arms wrap around your waist and his head on the crook of your neck.

Some people, Sarah included, called this behaviour that you two had weird, mainly because you weren’t in a relationship and you always stated that you didn’t like each other, but at the end you always ended up in his room, not for anything sexual of course.

But when you weren’t with Sarah you were with him, sometimes you even crashed his days with Topper and Kelce watching them play golf, which they didn’t mind but they always thought that it was weird how Rafe acted around you, especially because he always jumped to one girl to another, like all the time.

But you didn’t care, it was none of your business and you had your own problems to think about, especially now.

You got new notifications, unlock your phone and tap to view !

a/n: i like wrote this part five times because i didn’t like it, and kinda still don’t.. anyways i’m alive, i’ll try to post more after this week but school is killing me

🏷️ : @lilahrosee / @raeven-marie43 / @cyberkitty1 / @theultimatejoe / @starkeysfile / @marleymarleymarleymarley / @rafecameronswifeyy / @hello-therree

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 68

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,380ish

Summary: A memory comes up that has you thrown into a bad place.

Notes: Please send in reactions!  HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

A few months pass with you and Logan going on more dates and spending a lot more time together than you had been previously. The two of you still haven’t kissed as you are still getting used to the idea of dating and the two of you haven’t make anything official yet. Logan respected your need to go slow. You had been in a relationship with your dead husband for decades and both of you knew going into this that this wouldn’t be easy.

Logan made his usual route over to your bar, where you were looking busy wiping down the counter. His help tilted in concern as you didn’t appear to sense him as he came closer. You usually did and lit up his whole world with that smile of yours. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted with a smile, hoping that it would wash away whatever was wrong.

“Oh,” you glanced up and then went back to your work, “hi, Logan.”

His brows pinched together. He couldn’t remember the last time you called him that. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Just a long day. I’m going finish up helping the last of the customers.”

“Hey.” He reached over and gently grabbed your wrist, only to gasp. “Doll, how long have you been that cold?”

You pulled free from his grip. “Not now, Logan.” Then you rushed off.

Logan’s eyes followed, trying to see any signs that more was wrong than you just being cold. As you finished up helping customers, Logan got to his usual closing duties. He kept his eyes on you as you did your duties. You still wouldn’t look at him. After the bar was locked up, Logan threw his jacket over your shoulders and pulled it tight around you.

“I told you I’m fine,” you grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “It’s my job to make sure.” You sighed, letting him pull your arms through and zip you up. “There. Better.” You folded your arms across your body, wishing that you could simply disappear. Logan put an arm around you, immediately noticing the way you tensed as he pulled you into his side. “Doll, I’m worried—“

“Can we just get home? I just want to be home.”

Logan nodded. “We can do that.”

~~~

Logan went to open the apartment door but you quickly swatted his hand away.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you said, keeping your voice as even as possible. You couldn’t look at him. “I’ll give your jacket back in the morning.”

“Y/N,” his hand gently grasped your elbow. “Please look at me. Tell me what’s wrong. Your skin is cold and you aren’t acting like normal… At least call me, Lo. Please, darlin’, talk to me.”

You sniffled, growing emotional as you pulled from his grasp. “Goodnight, Logan.” Then you slipped into the apartment, quickly locking it behind you.

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep. Too worried about you. He got up in the morning and went to the nearest bakery and flower shop. He hoped that he could help you have a better day today. When he reached your apartment, Logan’s heart cracked a little when he found it locked. He knocked, grip tightening on the items he was holding. He didn’t know how to feel when Laura opened the door.

“Hey, Logan,” she looked sad, too, and concerned.

“I brought these for your mom,” Logan said. “Is she around?”

Laura sighed. “It’s a bad day.”

“In what way?”

“Every way, but it’s really not my place to tell you. I have to go to work and school but I don't want to leave her alone.”

“I don’t work. I’ll stay with her.”

“I don’t know, Logan. She’s… she’s really struggling today.”

“I can handle it and I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise… I just want to be there for her, whatever it is.”

Laura hesitated before nodding and opening the door wider. Logan stepped in and looked around, hoping to see you appear. The only thing he noticed was that he jacket had been tossed onto the couch with some burn marks on it. It was breaking his heart to know that you were struggling and pushing him away.

“She may remain in her room for most of the day,” Laura stated as she gathered her stuff. “She…” She glanced down the hall. “She’s only had a few days like this since I’ve been with her. But, they haven’t necessarily been this bad and having an effect on her powers like this.”

“But you know why she’s acting this way?”

“I do,” Laura nodded. 

“And… are you okay?”

Laura was taken by surprise. No one had ever asked her that on your bad days. “As long as she is, I will be.”

~~~

When you finally appeared from your room, you looked like you had been crying. It broke Logan’s heart. He was sitting on the couch, tense, as he watched you move around like you didn’t see him. You glanced at the pastries Logan had set on a plate on the table. Logan could hear your stomach rumble before you took the plate and disappeared back into your room. It should have made him feel better that you were going to each something, but it didn’t. You were looking like the whole weight of the world was on you and Logan wished that he could carry it with you.

It wasn’t long before Logan could hear your sobs from your room and he began pacing. He had to do something. He paced for a while before he began to clean everything he could. 

Lunch time rolled around and he grabbed some waters and made you an easy meal before heading to your door. He knocked it lightly.

“I brought you some food and drink, darlin’,” he said. He could smell a tinge of your smokey scent, causing his heart to drop. “I’m worried, doll. Please let me in.”

You didn’t answer, sobs spilling out of your room. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from busting down the door.

“I’m just gonna leave the food out here, okay?” He continued. “I’ll be in the living area if you need me.” He bent down and left the food there before sulking away.

Logan counted the minutes until you opened the door to grab the items and disappear again. Seven minutes. At least he knew that you were getting something in you.

It was late afternoon when Laura texted and said that she would be home late. Logan told her that he had everything under control. He made dinner and set it outside her door before going back to the living area. He turned on the tv and tried not to fall asleep in case you needed him. His eyes end up winning and he falls asleep for a little while. When he does wake up, he sees you sitting at the table, tears sizzling down your face, with a bottle of whiskey you usually kept for him against your lips.

“Doll?” Logan immediately shoots up and heads for you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you cry. “Please, just go home, Logan. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Crouching down beside you, he placed a hand on your thigh. It’s warm compared to last night, but it’s not as warm as it should be. “But you’re not okay. You’re crying and you’re sad… I’m worried. Please, darlin’, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I— I— Today— I don’t want you to leave.”

“What? I’m not going anywhere, doll. Why would you—“

“Today’s the day I lost him.” The pieces click instantly for Logan and he now wishes that he had done something more for Laura as well. “It’s— It’s stupid because it doesn’t actually happen for another four years, but to me…”

“No, no, baby,” Logan shook his head. “It’s not stupid at all. You lost him, no matter what year it was. You lost him. And you have every right to be sad about that.”

“I miss him… I miss my James. Oh gosh!” You scrambled back out of the seat. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that to you! I’m sorry.”

“Darling, baby, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Without warning, random objects around the apartment begin to go up in flames. “You don’t deserve that… You deserve better, Logan… I’m sorry that I can’t give you that.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he came closer, watching as fire spread around your body. “Please stop that, darlin’. Stop saying those things and… and please stop burnin’ yourself.”

“Are you going to leave because I miss him?”

“Never,” he shook his head. “No… I am so grateful for your James. He took care of you and loved you and got you to me… without him, I wouldn’t have you or Laura in my life. I would have walked away from Wade and never turned back… I would never leave because you miss your husband.”

“Really?”

“Really, darlin’. You’re stuck with me.”

You dropped to your knees on the floor, fires burning all around, as you sobbed. Logan moved to mirror your position, right in front of you. 

“Baby, please, I need you to try and control your powers.” He couldn’t help but notice how you were trembling and how burns were forming on your skin. “You’re hurting yourself, doll.”

“Lo… I need help…”

Logan lunged forward, flames be damned. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. “I’ve got you, darlin’… I’ve got you.”

“I smelt smoke!” Wade said, bursting into the apartment. “What’s going on?” He looked around to see various small fires everywhere. “Shit!”

“Wade, I need you to try to put the fires out. I’ve got to put her out.”

“On it!”

Wade began rushing around while Logan picked your flaming body up and carried you into the bathroom. He turned the shower on cold and climbed in under the stream, still holding you close. Your flames died and were quickly replaced with you shivering.

“Lo—Lo— I’m c-c-cold��” you stammered.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He stepped out of the shower and pulled you out of your clothes before wrapping you in multiple towels. “I’m gonna get you warmed up, baby.”

He stripped himself of his own clothes, leaving him in only boxers. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. He got you tucked in and cuddled you close to try and use his body heat to warm you up.

“All the fires are taken care of,” Wade said, peering into the bedroom.

“Thanks,” Logan responded. “Can you get me some clothes and gather supplies to take care of her burns?”

“Can do! I’ll be right back!”

“Lo…” you rasped.

He quickly shushed you. “Rest, baby. I know it hurts. I know you’re cold. I’m gonna take care of ya.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna fix this.”

~~~

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Logan asked as Wade returned with the asked items.

“What? This beauty?” Wade questioned, showing off his ‘#1 Ember Fan’ shirt.  You huffed out a barely there laugh, fluttering in and out of consciousness. “Don’t worry, Peanut, I have one here for you and one for Little Wolf.”

Logan rolled his eyes, before slowly pulling himself away from you. You whined. “I’m sorry, doll. I’ve got to deal with these burns of yours before they get worse.”

“Don’t fret, Buttercup!” Wade came over and sat down beside you. “I’ll hold your hand.” He took one of your hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

You pressed out a smile for Wade and barely squeezed his hand. He shot you a smile before shooting Logan a concerned look. Wade never thought you could feel this cold. Logan looked away, trying to pull himself together as he slipped on the sweats Wade had brought him. He arranged all the items to take care of your burns on the nightstand at got to work. You whined, cried, and whimpered as Logan took care of your burnt skin. Both Logan and Wade told you encouraging words as it continued. But the time Logan was done, you were unconscious.

“She’s getting worse,” Wade stated as he helped Logan clean up and leave you alone to rest.

“I know,” Logan mumbled.

“How long as she been that cold?”

“I just noticed yesterday.”

“Yesterday? That happened in one day?”

Logan nodded. “Thanks for your help. I’m going to stay here in case she needs anything and wait for Laura to come home.”

“Alright, Peanut. I’ll be need door if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

~~~

Laura came home about an hour later. She was immediately on alert as she smelt the smoke still in the air.

“What happened?” Laura fretted. “Is mom okay?”

“She’s fine. She told me what today was and freaked. Wade and I handled it.”

“So, you know?”

“I do… and I’m sorry. What can I do for you, Laura?”

Laura shook her head, tearing up. Logan came closer and pulled her in for a hug. Laura broke into sobs as Logan held her close. He kissed her head and remained silent, willing to follow her lead. When she pulled away, she quickly wiped her tears.

“Thank you, Logan,” she rasped. “For taking care of me and my mom.”

“Of course,” he replied. He glanced down the hall, eyes locked on your door. “I… I love her, you know… I never thought I would fall in love again, not after… But your mom, she just—she does things to me. She forces me to be a better man than I ever was before and it scares me. I know that I’m not good enough for her, I can’t save her from what’s coming… All I ask is that she let me love her. Let me take care of her and share this burden. That’s all I ask of her… that she let me love her.”

“She loves you, too, Logan. She just may not know how to tell you just yet.”

“She doesn’t ever have to tell me. I don’t need that from her.”

Laura nodded, finally noticing his shirt. “Ember’s #3 fan, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Wade has one for you too. Yours is #2.”

She scoffed. “He wishes.”

next chapter >

[yandere-fics]

A properly twisted manipulative darling gaslighting Rayna about what events have and haven't happened in what timelines. Just really winding her up for kicks c:

♡ Rayna's Sister Manipulates And Lies To Her ♡

(Rayna can get hard but only when she's really really over the top angry.)

♡ It was the first night that you realized her memory was spotty… She'd forced you to sleep in the same bed now that you were bonded to her, promising not to touch you until after the wedding which was also the first time you discovered she was crazy and planning on marrying you. Not that you minded much but you would have appreciated a heads up. Turns out she remembered telling you and was surprised you didn't know, claiming you'd forgotten instead. There were details in her memory that never existed to begin with and other important things she'd blanked out simply because the memory conflicted with her view of you two always having been in love and your spouse was in your way last time. It was conflicting… part of you knew you shouldn't have been messing with you, you should be helping her remember what is and isn't real but… it was extremely tempting to mess with it. Afterall you didn't really get to know her in the past and now that you were sort of her sister bride she should know these things even though she wasn't there when it happened. ♡

♡ You really didn't mean to lie at first. You just told her a few things you may or may not have known would upset her like your former spouse being bad in bed which was true! You'd heard it from someone they hooked up with one day, just you said it in a way that implied you ever slept with them in the past and didn't bother to fix Rayna's misunderstanding. You'd teased her about how she shouldn't disappoint you after the wedding just like your fiancé had. This was also somewhat true, you'd expected them to at least try to get to know you after the wedding just again you were letting Rayna believe whatever she wanted about what had occurred. She'd cried a bit at that and mumbled about how her spies had told her you didn't consummate the marriage before railing you into the bed, her frustration being enough to keep her hard for some time actually. After that you realized you liked messing with her. ♡

♡ It was smaller things to begin with like telling her about injuries you'd gotten because she hadn't been there to protect you, you figured out quickly there were certain things she just absolutely wouldn't believe like if you lied about getting injured in front of her she'd say you must of dreamt that because she knows if her sister had fallen near her she would have picked you up. Made up times you'd sent her little notes asking to hang out that she never received and telling her you'd been oh so devastated because you just really missed your sister. Even telling her your vow of silence in the first timeline had been because she hadn't come when you sent her a note asking her to come see you in the annex and you gave up thinking she hated you. Those ones made her fly into rage and kill all the staff with access to her office. ♡

♡ You learned really fast you enjoyed this game with her very much, whenever she grew furious she would go rail you after you finished killing the person. ♡

[ikalyyy]

♡︎ㅤㅤ! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָstray bunny pt. 02⋆⭒˚.⋆

Where Kang Saebyeok is chased by another girl after they were fired from the games.

𖹭.ᐟ Warnings: angst ; fluff ; no callback to the games ; fem! reader

Part two

Arriving at Saebyeok's small home was a small respite, you entered before Saebyeok even told you, you smiled happy to at least have a roof over your head.

"Woah, your home is beautiful, Byeokkie" you murmured happily, letting out a high pitched squeal that made her want to put earplugs in, but what really threw her off was the nickname.

"Don't ever call me that again in your miserable life" she growled in annoyance.

You pouted, ever since she told you her name just a few minutes ago, you had been racking your brains thinking of a good nickname for the cold girl.

"Okay, Byeokkie!" you jumped into the small kitchen, looking around.

"Now that I think about it, I have absolutely nothing to eat" she said but before she could say anything else, you came out -literally- from one of the low drawers in the kitchen, with a package of ramen in your hand.

"Tada~" you smiled happily and ran up to her, showing off your little accomplishment, but she seemed more confused by the fact that you had gotten into that small space to look for food.

"I guess we'll have to share" she sighed, she hated sharing her food, her space, absolutely everything, she was only shared with her little brother.

You both sat on the floor, opening the package and starting to eat it like that, as if they were cookies, because there was definitely no water and much less gas.

"It doesn't taste that bad if you imagine you're eating pizza" you murmured smiling, Saebyeok was starting to get uncomfortable seeing you smile 90% of the time.

"Byeokkie, where am I going to sleep?"

Before she could scold you again for calling her that, she remembered that she only had a small mattress, some blankets, a pillow and that's it, she didn't even have a couch.

"I don't know, kid, eat" she said, she would fix that later.

"Okay, Byeokkie!" You smiled and obediently went back to eating. “By the way, don’t call me ‘little girl’ I already told you my name” you mumbled, pursing your lips.

“Will you stop calling me ‘Byeokkie’?” she asked, looking at you, you shook your head in denial with a mischievous smile “Then I’ll keep calling you ‘little girl’, now shut up before I throw you out the window.”

You gulped, before quickly nodding.

After their grand feast, the two of you fell silent, Saebyeok walked over to a small corner cabinet, pulled out a short sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy pants, without saying anything he dropped them on your head.

“What?” you looked at the old clothes and then looked at Saebyeok “Do you want me to go throw them away?” you asked innocently, making Saebyeok glare at you.

“No, you idiot. It's for you to take off that stupid skirt and put on something comfortable to sleep in" she said before walking a few steps, she dropped onto the mattress under your gaze.

You quickly changed, your hands holding your pants so they wouldn't fall down.

Saebyeok took one of his blankets and dropped it in one of the corners of the room, pointing with his finger.

"Wait... I'm going to sleep there? You're treating me like a dog!" you whine, but walk over to where he dropped the blanket. "You suck at treating your guests."

"I never really invited you, I felt sorry for you. And no, I'm not treating you like a dog, you're more like a... a bunny" she said, there was something in her tone that was different, maybe less serious and more mocking.

"Ugh!" without being able to protest anymore, you settle down in the small corner, doing your best to get into the blanket and not touch the floor, but at the same time, covering yourself a little.

A few minutes passed, Saebyeok already had her pajamas on, she was lying on her back, her arms above her head, she was starting to fall asleep, but the little ball shaking in that corner, made her wake up.

"Idiot..." she muttered before standing up, she walked over to you and gave you a little kick "go to the mattress, I'll sleep here" she said reluctantly, you looked at her for a few seconds before running to the mattress and letting yourself fall.

Saebyeok took your place, the blanket barely covered his feet, he took a deep breath and turned around, looking at the wall, he was starting to close his eyes when he felt a warm presence behind her, she turned around just to see you, curled up and covered with a blanket, you were still shaking a little.

"Little girl, if you don't stop right now, I'm going to take the mattress and leave you here" she said, trying to sound threatening, but she couldn't help but think about how adorable you looked there next to her.

"Byeokkie..." again that stupid nickname that Saebyeok hated came out of your lips.

"Silly girl" she said before standing up, you thought she would keep her word and leave, but she took your arm and pulled you "if you kick me at night, you won't wake up" she said, both of you fell on the small mattress, covered themselves with the blankets and were so close that it was useless to turn your backs.

The night passed normally, until suddenly, Saebyeok felt something bury itself in her chest, she opened her eyes scared only to find a mat of soft hair.

"Damn girl" she muttered before resting his chin on your head and falling back to sleep.

I'm looking forward to seeing Saebyeok's development!!

Thanks for reading, and if you want mentions, I'll gladly add them!

ᥫ᭡ with lots of love and sugar, ika (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)