#still better than half the shows out there

[dcxdpdabbles]

#Holiday requests If you're not too busy I would love another part to cinnamon rolls son. Love your writing, it really is a great inspiration, you got me out of my own writing slump.

The Justice League was at their wits ends with Dan. Disaster struck no matter what they attempted to ensure he developed some softer traits.

First, Barry had the bright idea to show him the wonders of volunteer work to help the community. If he could value the life of humans, surely he wouldn't destroy it in the far future. As a teenager, Barry had punched hours of volunteering in the local hospital to play and read to the sick children in bed.

He had done it because he enjoyed making children smile and built up his resume for college. Barry was many things, but being wealthy enough to afford college wasn't one of them. He wanted to apply for as many scholarships as possible, so he started his community service campaign from an early age.

On the first day of their community service, Barry had taken him to clean up the local beach. An hour into the work, a shark had been spotted near the swimmers, and Dan had dived in to rescue a little girl from its jaws.

Dan had been hailed a hero until he picked up the girl's father and threw him into the water towards said shark. The father had ignored his seven-year-old daughter for his mistress. Apparently, once Dan overheard the man panicking more about his wife finding out the beach father-daughter beach day was just an excuse to cheat on her than his crying daughter in the ambulance, Dan had figured he needed to be taught a lesson.

Dan stood over him while the man screamed and splashed, pointing and laughing. Were it not for the Flash's sudden appearance, well....Dan may have actually fed that cheating cum bag to the sharks.

Bruce added it to the shared drive, asking Barry to include a complete detailed report, by the hour, of what happened. They figured they could analyze Dan and find what could make him snap.

Next, Clark took Dan to his family farm. He claimed nothing brought up good children like his mother and father's gentle but firm parenting,g plus the wonders of the hard farmer life. Clark was sure Dan would enjoy all the open space, the animals, and working in the fields.

Within the hour of the pair arriving at the farm, Dan happily weeded around the field. Clark was somewhat surprised by how quick he took to the job. He went inside to help Ma ready some pie and Clark's legendary lemonade as a reward.

It only took a few minutes since Ma had already put the pie to cook before they arrived. The two were gone long enough that Clark could make a nice pitcher and take a few seconds to smell the mouthwatering pie.

He went back into the field carrying a tray of a plated two-slice pie and a cold glass cup, only to stop dead in his tracks. Dan was kneeling, laughing manically towards the sky, within the circle of burning weeds.

The flames were a green and black color. Its dark smoke shifted into what appeared to be screaming humans. The worst part, however, was the lines of what appeared to be renamed scarecrows wearing shackles as they harvest Pa's cornfield.

Clark was horrified.

Batman had added to the drive, "Gave life to inanimate things just to enslave them."

Hal was the next one to try, but no one knew what happened on their Become A Better Person trip. Hal refused to place a report, only stating that he could never look at Hawaiian pizza again. He threw up when Barry brought one in for a long meeting.

At least Phantom seemed happy they were still attempting to save his son. His daughter was also more well-behaved, spending most of her days traveling. It was strange to associate her with Phantom because if there was one thing Dani liked to do, it was pick fights.

She had fought through Darkside's defenses to challenge him to a pie-eating contest. She freed half of his planet on her way out, but not before beating them up to get them to listen.

Her father would have spent time trying to do things peacefully. Not Dani. She did stuff through her fists.

Batman had added classifications to the three ghosts in the file. Phantom was Lawfully good, Dani Chaotic good, and Dan was marked as Chaotic neutral. The rest of the league suspects that his children added those, but no one was brave enough to point it out.

[rhysazriel]

Something Sweet [Azriel]

SUMMARY: Enjoying their mating frenzy, Azriel wants a taste of something sweet and Y/N wants to savour the moment. (2.1k)

WARNINGS: smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, food play (?), oral (female receiving), recording sexual acts (sex tape)

A/N: first fic of 2025 and this is a rewrite of an old fic. Found it in my drafts and knew I wanted to turn it into an Az mating fic hehe, enjoy!!

She's got the recording device on him the second he walks in with the platter of sliced watermelons. It's their third day in their vacation home on the outskirts of Day Court and they're yet to actually leave the beach house.

Azriel's got a cheeky kick to his step and Y/N watches him get closer through the screen, jaw moving as he chews on a slice of watermelon. She's in bed still, completely bare beneath the silky white sheets and Azriel's got a mixed array of clothing on that he grabbed quickly after announcing his craving for something sweet. 

Both sure they're still a little drunk from last night, Azriel sways over as Y/N lets out a giddy giggle and kicks the thin sheet off her heated body. Azriel doesn't try to act coy, and neither do his shadows as they skitter across her supple flesh. Az tilts his head to get a better view of her and her thighs knock together in a rush of arousal. 

"Not sure I want the watermelon now," he teases. 

She's too fucked to have a blush on her lips or seem bashful. The camera––a birthday gift from many years ago when Azriel had ventured to another realm––is still aimed at his face and he knows she's caught what he just said on tape. What he doesn't know is that before he came back to their room, she was catching something else on camera, too. 

Azriel sets the plate on the nightstand and lays beside her, knees by her head and face by her hips. He's leaning back on one elbow, naughty grin on his pink lips as he takes a bite out of the sliced fruit. They both know he's putting on a show for the camera and they love it. 

He's humming softly, eyes closed and head rolling. Y/N has to bite back the urge to clench her thighs together and she knows she's fucking soaked between her folds – she can feel it threatening to spill through her swollen lips and dribble down her thighs. 

Azriel's still got a mouthful of food in his mouth and when Y/N zooms in through the old camera, she’s in complete awe of the male she calls her mate. Y/N chooses to watch him through the lense instead, basking in the glow and sheer beauty he radiates from the musty filter and Azriel thinks he can smell her arousal simmering.

The doors and windows of the summer house are open, leading down to the sandy beach and the gentle gusts of wind are smoothly breezing through the sheer net curtains. They can hear the laughter and sounds of the waves crashing just a few meters away and maybe that's what makes it all the more exciting. 

It's when Azriel takes another bite that a bit of juice dribbles from his chin and splatters across her rounded hip. The coolness of it causes Y/N to flinch slightly and he doesn't miss the way his love’s thighs clench shut in eager desperation. 

It only encourages his filthy grin and he's leaning down to lick a broad swipe across the sticky skin. His tongue is cold on her flesh and his nose meets the dip between the apex of her thighs. He can't help but take a heavy inhale and his eyes flutter closed in pure ecstasy. 

The camera has migrated with his movement and Azriel rests the half eaten slice of watermelon upon her pussy, wicked grin tugging on the corners of his lips. Y/N's shuddering as she tries to keep the shot steady but she knows her camerawork is atrocious. But it's only for them to see.

Azriel waves his shadows away, wanting nothing more than to see her body whiter beneath him. He shuffles as he spreads her thighs until he's laying between them and the watermelon slice has slipped just perfectly to cover her sweetest spot. 

"Let's make a dirty movie," he mumbles. 

He's nosing across the smooth skin of her inner thighs and Y/N's trying to keep her eyes open, trying not to combust and drop the camera. She's nodding breathlessly as he shuffles closer, smearing open-mouthed kisses until he reaches her core. 

He lets his tongue flick across the fruit in quick successions and he knows she can see it from where she sits up on her elbows. "Azzy, come on," she breathlessly pleads; tries to roll her hips up to meet his face but he keeps them in place with two arms wrapping around her thighs and keeping her still. 

"I just want a little taste," he hums under his breath, biting a calculated chunk from the fruit and its juices mix with the pool that dribbles from her cunt. His eyes are fluttered closed again, head rolling at the faint taste of her on his tongue. The fruit is too overpowering and Azriel decides he doesn't like the watered-down taste of her. He wants it right from the source. 

"Need something sweeter," he drawls in a low sing-song murmur, nosing at the fruit slice until it's out of his way and all he can see is Y/N's perfect cunt. She's letting out breathless giggles and he's smirking against her cunt as he swipes a long swipe through her swollen lips. 

His tongue is immediately flooded with arousal, practically scooping it up and into his mouth and the filthy hum of approval sends shockwaves through her body. "So fucking sweet," he grunts out in appreciation. "Favourite fucking cunt I’ve ever taste." His face is drenched as he forces himself closer to her. 

Azriel's mouth is smearing across her entire pussy, licking and sucking at every inch he can. She's keening into it. She doesn't have to be looking down at him to know it's sloppy and messy – it always is with Azriel. It's always done right. 

"So good, baby, oh Gods," she's praising him, keeping the shaking camera trembling on him. From the side screen, she can see just how eager and desperate he is. His face is close-up and his chin and cheeks are glistening in her arousal. His eyes are fucked, like he's on a massive high and can't quite come down. 

She thinks it's the most orgasmic thing she's ever seen. "Baby, you’re dripping down your thighs." His muffled acknowledgement sends a rush of heat to her cheeks but it's not from embarrasment, never could be when he's eating her so fucking good. 

Azriel's trying to lap up everything she has to offer, completely emerging himself in her and he's staring up and past the camera. His eyes are focused on Y/N's face, like he's waiting for her to look at him and he won't falter his gaze until she does.

She knows the deal. How he loves to keep eye contact especially in these filthy moments. She feels his burning gaze on her warm face and raises to her elbow again to get a good look. 

His hazel irises are glazed over with lust and need – his lips swollen and red and his entire face from his nose down is shining in precum and arousal. She hears the sheets ruffling before she really catches on and then she feels a warm finger probe at her tight hole. 

He teases a little, swirling and coating it in her wetness before he gently pushes forward and coaxes her with filthy praises of encouragement. "Tight little cunt, baby. Gods, look at you... dirty fucking girl. My dirty girl." Her back is arching in complete bliss but he doesn't let his finger stay long before he's pulling out and raises the hand to reach for her face.

She opens her mouth straight away, tongue flaccid against her bottom lip and she welcomes his digit with a watering mouth as her lips close around it. She hums at the sweet taste of herself and Azriel groans at the sheer filth of her actions. He lets her keep his finger in her mouth while he suckles eagerly on her clit. 

He can feel her start to tremble around him but he knows she needs more. As much as her clit is throbbing and her thighs are shaking, he knows she needs a little push to really get her to that edge. With his spare hand, he unhooks his arm from around her thigh and brings it between her spread legs. 

The lack of strength pinning her to the mattress allows her to thrash and squirm when he presses two thick fingers in her weeping cunt and begins to curl them. Azriel's humming and grunting into her sloppy pussy, fingers scissoring and curling in quick succession and Y/N loses control over the camera. 

It topples to the bed until her thighs jerk and her knee knocks it to the floor. "Fuck, I'm cumming, Azriel! Fuck, oh Gods, just like that!" Her begs are muffled around his fingers, desperate to cum all over his mouth and he grants her wishes. 

"Cum for me, baby," he coaxes against her swollen little nub and she shudders, letting go as she feels the coil tighten before it snaps and she's cuming hard and fast. 

Y/N can't tell left from right, night from day. She's reduced to a blubbering mess as her cunt grips tight on his fingers and he moves his hand away from her mouth to hold her thighs. She's trying to thrash away from him with loud cries and pornographic whines but Azriel doesn't move. She's begging him to stop, crying that it's too much but he's fucking infatuated with the sweetness of her little cunt. 

"Az, please. I can't," she sobs out, fingers yanking on his hair until she manages to pull his face away from her oversensitive cunt. He's grinning wickedly at her, refusing to remove his thick fingers and his chin is fucking dripping with clear strings of thick arousal. 

It's a sight that only fucks her more, one that sends her body into shock and somehow has another wave of pleasure roll through her soul. She's too fucked to notice Azriel pick up the camera from the floor and this time, direct it to her. 

He's staring through the lense as the musty filter is painted over her blissful body. Her full breasts are flatter as she lays on her back and he introduces the camera to her core. Azriel gets as close as he can, fingers still in her cunt as he pulls them out and spreads them open.

There's thick strings of cum that connect the two digits as he pulls them apart and with a painfully hard cock in his pants, he leans over to his love and lets her lick a stripe between the two parted fingers, breaking the string as she licks it into her mouth. 

Nothing is said as he hands her the camera and she faces it back to him. He's stuffing his fingers between his swollen lips as he licks them clean, grinning around his digits while he stares down the camera. Y/N's letting off giddy, post-orgasmic giggles that go right to his cock and he crawls closer to her until she's forced to move her arm to extend the camera so they're both in view.

His nose is pressing against hers, tongue licking a stripe from the bottom of her bottom lip to the tip of her nose and her own tongue tries to chase his. "My favourite taste in the whole fucking world," he gushes, parted lips smearing against hers and she licks into his mouth. 

With as much strength as she can, she shuffles their positions so Y/N's straddling his middle and Azriel is fucked out beneath her, stong wings flared. The camera is still in his face as she lets him take it from her hands again and he flips it to get the best fucking view he's ever seen. 

He records her shimmying down his body with sex-crazed eyes and her bottom lip taut between her teeth. When she settles between his thighs, her hands unbutton his brown pants and she finally lets her eyes meet his blown ones. 

"Now let me get a taste of mine."

Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a reblog and leaving some feedback!! <3

[stargirlstabber]

sharing is caring

featuring. sevika and jinx

a/n. i wrote this tonight and uh- not guaranteed that everything makes sense, i typed that in my notes with my eyes half in my skull already :) english isn't my first language, but i already know y'all don't care✨

cw. smut, MDNI, smoking, riding vika's strap on, nipple play, some spanks, dom/sub

sevika leaned back on the couch in silco's office. she smoked a cigarette while she watched you struggle to lift yourself up and down on her thick strap on.

ridden of any clothing that might get in the way, your body was bare. a big contrast to your girlfriend, who was almost fully clothed under you, pants only opened enough to secure the strap on on her hips. sevika liked that contrast.

"c'mon, little girl, you can do better than that", she patted your thigh with her mechanical arm, gripping your flesh before giving it a spank.

without a warning, sevika skyrocketed her hips, pushing her strap on up to a place you thought it couldn't reach. with squeezed shut eyes, you let your body fall forward, burying your girlfriend's face between your tits. a smirk was across her lips, liking the gaspy moan that left your plump lips.

her hand now gave your ass a rather harsh spank, "i didn't tell you to stop, did i? go on."

your trembling legs were on either side of her hips and your sweaty hands on her collarbones, trying to steady yourself, still feeling her deep inside as you continue to lift yourself up and down. the muscular woman comfortably slouched there, admiring your bouncing tits and enjoying your whines and whimpers as you ride her.

but she didn't expect jinx to come in. not at all. the blue haired girl was taken off guard by the sight, but shrugged it off quickly, walking towards the two of you. puffing some smoke out, sevika glanced at her over your shoulder.

feeling a new hand snaking its way up and giving your breast a squeeze, your head whipped around in surprise, seeing a hue of blue before the second hand quickly comes up and turns your head back to facing sevika.

"tut tut tut, keep your eyes on her."

jinx.

and you did, your eyes met sevika's orbs. she just nodded, wordlessly telling you that it's okay for her, if you were okay with it. it was your time to nod.

you didn't have anything against the idea of jinx joining in, knowing sevika would stop her if she'd done something she shouldn't.

jinx has always liked teasing you. ever since sevika introduced her to you after you unexpectedly showed up to bring your girlfriend something she forgot at home.

now she's teasing you again. just not with words, but this time with actions. with her hands.

her fingers rolled your nipples between them, tugging and squeezing the sensitive buds here and there to tickle a moan out of you as she helped you, guiding your movements on top of sevika.

the young woman's voice was close to your ear, "oh, you like that, huh? me playing with these little nubs, hm?"

the only answer she got was a whine when her hands left your tits.

"don't you worryyy, just concentrate on giving your girlfriend a show", her hands ran down your sides before going to your drenched little cunt, targeting your swollen clit as her next victim.

you were being a good girl, so you did as you were told. you concentrated on giving sevika her 'show'.

hands still on her collarbones for a tiny bit of support, you started once again. lifting your hips before going back down again and again and again.

the room was filled with moans, whines and whimpers from you, here and there a groan or a huff from sevika and snickers from jinx. and, of course, the squelchy sound of your pussy stretching around vika's dick.

soon, very soon actually, another orgasm tightened inside of you, crash I down on you like a tsunami.

your vision went white, limbs shaking as your mouth hung open, unable to push a single sound out at the overwhelming feeling.

with a smirk on her face, the blue haired kept on assaulting your clit, not leaving the overstimulated bud alone for even a second.

sevika started rocking her hips up into you with a steady rhythm, pushing two of her fingers into your mouth.

you, still in a daze, instinctively started sucking, swirling your tongue around her digits.

"sharing is caring", jinx's eyes practically lit up after she scooped a little amount of cum, that pushed itself fast the tight fit of you around sevika, and greedily tasted it, "gotta get her to give me more of that."

vika's hand now took a hold of your hair and  pulled you down, "you gonna be a good girl for me and give jinx what she wants?"

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

 Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(In more than one way).

(None of them ended up well).

High school Edward was something. Jean and leather, band t-shirts and patches. The shiny chains were still there. He had picked up guitar and stuck with it, as you found out at the talent show. His hair and his opinions had grown.

And his big, sad eyes were still there.

He had a reputation now: dangerous, freaky, dark. Maybe it was true. Maybe it had always been. It was just that people took a while to realize. He was the same over dramatic, fun, imaginative boy you had lost. Except that he took his drama all the way up to the tabletops of the cafeteria now.

It was hard not to enjoy the show. It was even harder to wonder how would it be to know him again. He had so much determination and sarcasm, he was so over the way the world worked, so full of disdain and passion… As someone who had served under the Queen’s orders- even if it was a fantasy queen, years ago, in the battlefield that was kindergarten-, you wanted to be loved by him.

How would anyone not want to be worthy of his love?

You knew better, of course. He had distanced himself. And yeah, maybe it had been a long time ago, but why should you give him another chance? No, sir. You didn’t have many things, but your pride was something no one could take from you.

Besides, he had never asked for another chance.

But he was fucking everywhere. He had founded the coolest club in the whole state. His van took up half the parking lot, a lighthouse in the middle of a naked shore. His hair was impossible to miss in the hallway, and your lunches were plagued by him and his stupidly interesting speeches. He even showed up at every party, ready to supply the sheeples with the only best weed in Hawkins.

And not once, in any of those scenarios, were you the object of his attention.

You could have stayed away, of course. It was just a matter of willpower. But your curiosity was bigger. Also, the sheet to sign up for Hellfire Club ended up being taped to the wall right next to your locker. It had to be a sign, if fate could be any more literal: just sign the sign.

It was a terrible idea. Made your nerves skyrocket and your appetite disappear, and your hands were trembling more than usual. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go back if it turned out to be as awful of an experience as you feared.

It was much, much worse: your first day at Hellfire was amazing. You had actual fun- something you hadn’t had in years, if you were honest. The boys were nice in a warm way, talking over each other and, frankly, more excited about the game than you. It was great, because it didn’t make you feel like a guest, but like you belonged.

And Edward welcomed you.

After years without talking to you, without even glancing at you, he smiled and bowed, arms wide as if to show you his kingdom.

“Be welcome to our humble table, mighty lady. Be prepared to face more adventure than you’ve ever heard of, more danger than you can fear and to conquer more victories than anyone can dream.”

He acted that way with everyone. And he lied.

You had heard of that much adventure, sure as hell. Actually, some of his adventures sounded familiar- they were detailed evolutions of childhood games.

But you fell for it anyway. It was good to be back home.

Even if he stabbed you in the back every now and then.

After the first session, as everyone was tidying up, he had cocked his head at you.

“We used to play together when we were kids, didn’t we? You’re not as boring as you look.”

And he had the audacity to wink, as if it would do anything but burn. So you punched back.

“Oh… Did we? I have a pretty bad memory. Sorry.”

Cue innocent and nonchalant shoulder shrug, finished off with a tight lip smile.

The second time Edward Munson broke your heart was worse, because you saw it coming. And you still followed him, like a reflection on a dark mirror, like you had no choice but to help him shatter you.

Second part! The next one is Eddie's POV! Please comment or reblog if you like it, that really motivates me to keep writing! Also, my inbox is always open (not just for requests and ideas about fics, you can also come say hi and tell me about your day or whatever you want to talk about). If you want me to add you to the taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @arabellagreenleaf , @stylesxmunson , @am0iur

[somber-sapphic]

Undignified

〖Summary: Caitlyn wakes up in Vi's bed with a nasty fever.〗

〖Word Count: ~500〗

〖Pairing: Caitvi〗

〖Notes: Wow would you look at that, I wrote something! This is super short because I don't know the characters well yet. So sorry for any inaccuracies, I've only seen the show once. Please be nice, I haven't actually written anything in over half a year.〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Caitlyn woke with gasp, followed by a series of rough coughs that shook her to her core as she tried to claw her way out of the blanket tucked around her. She didn't fully recognize her surroundings, the room was dark and small, but cozy in a way. She certainly wasn’t in Piltover, the lack of glistening white marble and sounds of fighting outside were enough to tell her that. So she was in the Undercity, that could only mean one thing.

“Easy there cupcake.” Vi murmured, a calloused hand settling on her forehead. Caitlyn stilled, the sound of her voice instantly calming her. It didn’t matter where she was anymore, she knew that she would be safe with Vi. The pink haired woman would keep her out of any real danger. With the question of her safety settled, Caitlyn allowed herself to look inward to her aching limbs and foggy head. 

“I’m ill?” She croaked, blinking up at the blurry figure of her girlfriend. No matter how hard she blinked she couldn’t manage to clear her vision, it was irritating. Being ill was irritating. She had so much to do, she had no time for this. Unfortunately frustration was not enough to stave off the fever that was keeping her practically nailed to the bed. She could barely keep her eyes open. 

“That's an understatement. I found you half conscious in an alley, figured it’d be better to take you here. That way I can keep an eye on you.” Vi brushed a strand of navy blue hair behind Caitlyn’s ear, studying her face with careful scrutiny. The enforcers skin was paper white, the fever flush on her cheeks making her appear even more frail. Her eyes were sunken, filled with anguish. 

The past few weeks had been tough on her, tougher than she’d ever truly let on. Vi knew to some extent, understood the wordless looks and touches that lasted longer than they needed to. There was never any doubt about the internal struggle Caitlyn had been waging, but also no conversation. There was no time for that conversation.

A barking cough tore itself from her lungs, the grating feeling scraping across her dry throat. She was too tired to lift a hand to cover her mouth, but she still tried to muffle the fit into the blanket. She was a woman of status after all, she needed to hold onto some decorum. 

She felt a cool glass press against her lips, a hand propping her head up so that she could drink. She took large, grateful sips, the liquid soothing her throat. 

“Thanks.” She mumbled, turning towards the hands that were holding her up. She wanted to be nearer to Vi, she felt alone without her touch. It was undignified, but there was no fight left in her. She needed comfort, the strong warrior had gone and replaced her with a weak, sick woman.

“Will you…lay with me? I’m cold…” Caitlyn murmured, emphasizing her point with a painful shiver. Her body couldn’t even do her the kindness of allowing her to be cold in peace, the body aches were enough to make her tear up. Vi grunted quietly and made her way under the blanket, wrapping the taller woman up in her arms. Caitlyn shifted so that she could place her head on Vi’s chest, taking comfort in her rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat. She could allow herself this peace for a little while, just until her fever broke. 

〖Join My Taglist!〗@goldenempyrean

[aquariusmiller]

Sell-out

Pairing: QZ!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, captivity, mentions of m!oc, cheating, darkish!Joel, dubcon (power imbalance, eventual consent), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Happy New Year! Decided to do something different for this one-shot and I'm excited to put it out there because I personally love reading these types of stories and I've been writing this for a while. I appreciate any feedback and enjoy these messy characters! :)

masterlist

The first thing you feel waking up is sharp pain coming from the back of your head. You move your arm to inspect it, but the weight of chains stops you, clanging against the hard floor. You quickly open your eyes to see where you are.

The room you’re in is wide, brick walls of it covered with graffiti, holding a network of pipes. You... You know this place. You’ve seen it from outside of the abandoned warehouse near the QZ, waiting for your boyfriend Lucien to finish up meeting with his smuggling crew. You always hated the types of guys coming here and the way he’d try to fit in with them, mimicking them without noticing. Most of the time, though, you’d bear with it because his line of work brought in the resources. To him and to you. This has to be the shadiest place in a wide perimeter, and it smells like it; of sweat, dried blood and rusted metal.

You raise your arms slightly and turn to look at them. There’s a pull of the heavy metal again. You see chains tied around your wrists, locked around a metal pipe. You don’t remember any of this happening, much less getting here. Your mind runs a mile an hour, trying to find an answer to the burning question – why the hell are you here tied up?

Heavy and intent footsteps grow louder until you see a big wooden door open. Your eyes widen as you see who comes out, his bearded face and stern expression unmistakable. He leans on a small metal table, staring you down. Joel fucking Miller.

Of course you know who Joel Miller is. Along with Tess, he’s one of the most notorious smugglers in the Boston QZ, feared by even the toughest of brutes. Tess is the brains, Joel is the muscle. They worked with Lucien on his most recent deal and... Oh, shit. You know why you’re here.

His expression is nonchalant, except for a subtle scowl. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You look him straight in the eye, trying not to show the fear bubbling in your stomach. You curse yourself as a tremble in your voice betrays it. “Why am I here?”

He grins darkly at the tremble in your voice, satisfied with his plan to intimidate you. “You know why you’re here.”

Of course you do. This isn’t the first time Lucien’s sleazy tactics backfired on him, yet he always thought he knew better than you. Didn’t want to listen to your advice and did as he pleased. Now you’re the one captured for it.

You decide in a split second you’ll pretend you have no idea. “No, I don’t.”

“Liar.” He says menacingly.

“What do you want?” You get annoyed and struggle against the chains.

“No use strugglin’. You’ll just hurt yourself. And I want my share.” He walks around as he speaks, heavy boots stomping on the concrete floor. You have to resist the urge to flinch at every one of his steps. “Thought you were so smart, double-crossing me and Tess.”

You glare at him, determined not to let him sense your fear. “Me? I’m not a smuggler.”

He smirks. “Oh, right. Forgot you’re Lucien’s arm candy.”

You know what he’s doing. Trying to coax an answer out of you by implying your only use is standing still and looking pretty. You won’t fall for it. You tilt your head. “Forgot you’re Tess’s muscle.”

You see a flicker of annoyance pass him at the quip before he composes himself. “The muscle could snap you in half.”

You keep glaring up at him. “Good thing. Nothing else going for you.”

He comes closer and kneels in front of you, his shadow looming over your frame. “You’re makin’ this a whole lot harder on yourself.”

You keep eye contact as he comes closer to you, his breath hitting your face, your breath speeding up from adrenaline and... His proximity. He’s so close you can smell his musk mixed with gun powder. God, not him. Not right now. You swallow.

He smirks. “What? Cat ate your tongue?”

You struggle to think as your skin warms up slightly, making part of you not want to leave. Looking away from him towards the floor, you shake out of it. The chains are tied to the pipe with a lock. If you’re lucky and he hasn’t thought this through, he could be keeping the keys to the lock somewhere on him. Joel wouldn’t, but it’s worth a try. You could also convince him to let you go. You’ve talked your way out of worse, and Joel is a pragmatic man. If you figure out what he wants, you stand a chance.

After a few seconds of running through this in your head, you have a plan of action. “I can give you your share.”

He leans a bit away to check your facial expression, determine if you’re deceptive. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. It was a stupid idea, and I told him that. You should be made up for your struggle.” You try to keep your expression flat, playing up the “you deserve compensation” card.

He hums, smiling slyly. “You’re good. Can’t tell if you’re lyin’.”

“Well, I’m telling the truth.” You huff, genuinely annoyed this time at the predicament you’re in because of your boyfriend. “So how about we cut a deal and you get me out of these?” You raise your arms as much as the chains tying them on your back will allow.

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re takin’ this way better than I thought.”

You roll your eyes. “Not used to people coming in to save me.”

He shrugs and nods. “See...” He gets up slowly from his crouching position, walking around again. “I could cut you a deal.” He stops and looks you over, his eyes scanning your body slowly, like a predator deciding whether to play with its prey or finish the hunt. “Ain’t sure you’re gonna like it, though.”

Relief, intrigue and a bit of fear are swirling in your chest. Your voice cracks but you compose it quickly. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

He comes closer to you and crouches again, stroking your cheek with no emotion in his eyes, searching yours for any signs of discomfort. Chills prickle your skin and you’re not sure if you want to bite your lip to hold back your reactions or to spur him on. You refrain from it.

You should move to stop him. But it’s as if his gaze is keeping you in place, looking into your very soul.

“This is about sendin’ a message.” He strokes your cheek with his knuckles, the roughness of his calloused hand pleasant against your soft skin. “So you can tell me where you keep everythin’ you own, or...” He bites his lip, his eyes closing slightly with lust. “We can do somethin’ else.”

You’re breathing heavily, you heart beating quickly in your chest, leaning against the wall to get as much distance as you can from him in a desperate attempt to think clearly.

All of Lucien and your resources or... Whatever Joel’s up to? You don’t like this. You’re cornered. As much as you’re intrigued by the latter, you have a sinking feeling in your gut you’ll be forced to do it anyway. You frown in resignation.

You turn back to Joel, your tongue on your teeth in anger. “What else?” You spit out.

He smirks, aware of his position, taking his hand off your cheek. “You’re a smart girl. ’M sure you’ll figure it out.”

Thinking of your next move, you look at him frustrated. You lunge and bite the front of his shirt, keeping him in place as you try to will your chained hands to move to his jean pockets and look for the key.

He scoffs in frustration and shakes you off, pinning your shoulders against the wall. “Goddamnit-“

You slam against the wall, scowling at him.

He keeps you pinned and scoffs. “Oh, c’mon.” He smiles slyly, running his finger down the pulse point on your neck. “Afraid you’ll like it?” He leans in and whispers in your ear, his lips lightly grazing the shell of it. “You already do.”

You hate him with a fiery passion. You hate the invisible pull between you two and the way your breath is quickening.

He keeps whispering. “Smart girl. Sharp as a whip. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle ya.” He runs his hands down your sides, stoking the fire lit in you.

Your eyes shut slightly on their own accord, the sensation in your core pleasant. He’s flattering you, using your vanity against you as if he’s reading into your mind.

“I could make good use of you.” He whispers, his breath hitting your ear. “In a lotta ways.” His words are seductive, but you sense a deeper meaning. He sees tangible value in your calculating mind and survival instincts.

You should resist him. Use any tactic you can think of and try to run. But you’re curious about what he could do to you. You like the thought, and your body’s betraying you too, heat pooling low.

You’re also curious about the vision of Joel treating you like an equal. Tess is his partner in crime and you’re not sure how you’d fit in the picture. Yet, desperation for recognition Lucien never gave you lets you think wishfully for a fleeting moment. Does thinking like this make you a traitor? Weak willed? A sell-out? What devastates you is you’re not sure Lucien would care for this more than losing his supplies.

There’d likely be hell to pay either way. Hell with Joel seems like the lesser one.

So you entertain Joel. You bite your lip and turn to him slightly as you whisper. “Bet you could.”

He slowly pulls away from your ear and smiles slyly. “You’re comin’ around.”

You return his sly smile with your own. “Are you gonna make good on your promise?”

He leans in, his lips inches from yours, an invitation for you to close the distance. “You bet.”

You look down at his lips, corners of your mouth crooked into a smug smile. Temptation rises in you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. And a flame will it be when Lucien finds out.

You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back searingly, full of pent up aggression and desire, biting your lip softly. You moan at the slight sting, both getting lost in this desperate and carnal moment, mouth to mouth, no more space for thinking. His tongue finds your lower lip, asking for access. You grant it instantly, opening your mouth to let him explore it. You catch his tongue with yours and they glide against each other in a slow dance.

Moaning, you pull away. He grunts slightly at the loss of your lips on his. There’s a certain question in the way you look at him now that he can’t answer; how far is this going? He’s swept away in the tide of his arousal and letting it guide him.

He gets up and puts his hand on your chin, lifting it and tapping it as he speaks commandingly. “On your knees.”

You blink a few times in surprise and swallow your pride before you get up on your knees, tugging at the cold chains as you shift from your sitting position. Your core is fluttering even as you’re feeling like uncertainty is pressing down on your chest.

He smirks at your current position and tilts your head up, nudging you softly with his words. “Open wide. C’mon.”

You lick your lips as you look up at him with an expression juxtaposing what you’re feeling. Ready. In too deep, you’re seeing this through, letting him take you through the unknown. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“Eager for me, huh?” He strokes your chin tenderly, like you’re something to be handled carefully. “Good girl.”

You smile smugly with your eyes, keeping your mouth open, the last shreds of your restraint keeping you from giving fully into him.

The sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes through the warehouse interior. He slides it off, pulling down his jeans. You get a good look at the bulge straining against his boxers. God, he seems big. A bit of worry of you’ll fit him in your mouth comes over you.

He just grins at your hesitant frown and reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His length is bobbing on his abdomen, red and angry, already leaking precum. You instinctively tilt your head and bite your lip at the sight. His bulge didn’t fool you about his size, and of course it’s as demanding and manly as the rest of him.

He looks at you sternly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

He’s taunting your doubts, and you might agree with the sentiment. You want to be so full of him you can’t think. You lick up the drops leaking from his slit, looking up at him with wide, pliant eyes.

He strokes the back of your head, sucking in a breath. “There we go.” He grips your hair and pulls you in the direction of his cock. You wrap your mouth around his tip, swirling your tongue, before you push in deeper.

He grunts. He grips your hair, his eyes shutting slightly at the sensation of your warm mouth. “Just like that, baby. So good.” He pats your cheek with his other hand.

You bob your head, setting up a steady pace. You inhale his musk as you take him in deeper each time.

He’s a mess of grunts and low moans. He grips your hair with both hands and starts thrusting into you with abandon. He hits the back of your throat and even as you gag, you close your eyes and moan, the vibration pleasant on his cock. He lit up a wildfire inside you. At this point, you’re helpless to stop it.

Even in his haze, he’s making sure to hold your head securely to keep you from falling backwards. He lets out a groan as he bucks into you, struggling to speak. “Takin’ me so well. You like chokin’ on it?”

You moan in approval. You’re getting off on being tied up and used like this, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. So intent on doing whatever he wants, you don’t care if it gets eased.

“’M not sure how long I can last.” He pulls out of your mouth slowly, the saliva stream connecting your mouth with his cock as he does. You open your eyes, looking up at him half-lidded, close to being completely spent. He strokes your cheek, scared he’s hurt you. “You okay?” His voice is tinged with warmth you didn’t expect.

You nod as you look into his hazel eyes, still devoid of emotion but attentive in their own way, glimpses of the man he must have been before the world hardened him.

“Where d’you want me?” He keeps stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you inside me.” There’s almost a desperation in the way you look up at him, not sure if it’s for him to slide into you or to keep him giving these small crumbs of attention.

He nods as his gaze skims over your body slowly. As if he just remembered something, he stops in consideration. He orders, slight irritation at this thought ruining his fun in his voice. “Turn around.”

You narrow your eyes questioningly and hesitantly turn around to face the wall. Gripping your arm, he unties the chains around your wrists. Relief and confusion come over you. Is he going to...?

He is. You recognize the sound of keys clinking behind you before he turns the key in the lock keeping the chains to the pipe. The chains fall to the floor with a loud clang. You finally move your arms, sore and chafed by them, rubbing the marks.

Why would he let you go before you get to the good part? Wait... Guess there are invisible lines Joel won’t cross. As much as he liked the power he had over you, he wants you to have a choice in this. To know you’re doing this on your own accord, not to escape, not fearing for your life. This is just his test of that. He stands behind you for a few moments, gauging your reaction, watching whether you’re preparing to flee.

As you stand with your arms free, all your instincts tell you to run. But where to? Back in the arms of the boyfriend who makes you fear his betrayal every single day? It’s only a matter of time before his backstabbing tendencies are turned on you, you think.

To be fair, Joel is not the most reliable man to turn to next, but you decide to explore what has transpired between you further.

You turn around and look at him, his bulge still straining against his pulled up jeans, tilting your head and smiling knowingly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

“Good. Thought you’d try to run.” He grins and nods, and you can see relief clearly painted on his face. “Woulda been a shame.” His voice takes on a lower and more confident tone.

He grabs your arms and moves you to the patch of brick beside the pipe you were locked to, pinning you to it. Your faces are close together and now you’re both smiling like two teenagers sneaking off to do something forbidden. He slides his tongue into your mouth again as you open it eagerly. You kiss briefly before his fingers slip past the waistband of your jeans inside your panties. He hums. “Already wet for me, aren’t you?”

You nod as you exhale in pleasure. “So wet.”

He parts your folds with his finger, not pushing in, just teasing. “Let’s see how wet you can get...”

Your core is throbbing and his touch keeps making it worse. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh. “Oh God...”

He smiles slyly as his fingers find your clit, rubbing teasingly. “Lucky bastard, Lucien... Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about him.”

You look at Joel in surprise at mentioning him, too worked up to care at this point, perhaps even tempered by the anger and resentment you harbor for Lucien. Too late to turn back anyway, you think you like the way this is sticking it to him. A subtle sly smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

He takes his hand out of your jeans and begins undoing the button and zipper on them. As he does, your chest is rapidly rising and falling and you feel the heat spreading through your body, consuming you. You clutch onto his belt, undoing it once more along with his jeans and boxers. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down.

He taps the head of his cock to your clit, your arousal mixing. You move your hips instinctively for him to push in, but he makes sure to torment you for a moment longer, tapping it against you again.

“Joel...” You whine.

“You want it? I wanna hear you.” He pushes in just the head of his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, I want it so badly. Please...” Before you’re even done begging, Joel can’t take it anymore and pushes all the way in. In one rough stroke, he’s fully inside you. Your breath’s almost knocked out and a slight sting from his size quickly turns into pleasure.

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He slides out of you a bit before he slams back in. He sets a ruthless pace, each thrust pushing your hips to the wall and hitting deep inside of you. You lean against the cold brick, your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded, moaning. It’s almost animalistic, the way you’re both losing your bearings in this dirty warehouse.

“Atta girl. Take all of me.” He picks up speed as he presses closer to you, taking your nipple between his fingers through your shirt and pinching it, his voice husky and low. “Who’s fucking you harder than he ever did?”

“You, Joel.” The words come out of you without even thinking about them.

He grins proudly. “Damn right.” His hand reaches for your thigh, raising it slightly so it’s wrapped around his waist. The angle he’s thrusting at changes and you feel him hitting that delicious spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Now you’re a mess of gasps and moans.

He pounds into you relentlessly. “’M close. Gonna fill you up full of me.”

Too deep into the blissed out haze, you moan and nod, only thinking about how good it will feel. And it does. He buries his face in your shoulder as he fills you, hot pulses of his thick release pumped deep inside you. His cock is throbbing inside you as he empties himself. The sensations send you over the edge, and you lean your head back and moan as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He stays like that for a while as you both catch your breath. Sated and wrapped up around him, you close your eyes, coming down from the high. The tension from your initial meeting has dissolved, leaving you both light and boneless. You wrap your fingers in his hair, stroking it as he tries to gather his bearings.

There is not much to say after what’s already said and done, besides the question making your chest tighten as you both put your clothes back on. Is Joel going to brag to Lucien about this, more so – was this kind of payback his plan all along?

Something in your stomach twists at the thought that you were a pawn Joel successfully used in his game, but you don’t regret the way this has forced you out of the convenience of being by Lucien’s side.

As you zip up your jeans, your gaze falls back on Joel’s questioning expression. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“Will you tell Lucien about this?” You say it with more bite than you intended, angry at the thought of being used.

He considers your question then shakes his head. “Won’t if you don’t want me to.” He grins. “Reckon it’s not my style anyway.”

Exhaling in relief and amusement, you nod. “Alright.” Your legs are sore as you head for the steel doors of the warehouse.

He raises his eyebrow at your abrupt exit and calls out. “We gonna see each other again?” He wants to, you can tell by his tone.

You turn around on your way out and contemplate whether you want to see him again. You connected physically but you feel like connecting emotionally with Joel would be an endless chase of something never to be caught. You’re so drawn to him. You don’t want to go. But you tilt your head as you answer bluntly with a smile. “No.”

He shrugs indifferently as the steel sliding door grinds while you open it. “Probably for the best.”

[chanranghaeys]

🐸 “come here, hold my hand.”

request from my og @tusswrites! "come here, hold my hand.” “you’re washing the dishes.” “…i can do both…” with minghao? please i love this man and I’ll crumble if he says this to me 😭

pairing: minghao x gn!reader word count: 1k+ genre: fluff, slice of life (HELLO IT'S ME) rating: pg tags: pure fluff, physical touch as the love language, mundane stuff, household chores, request prompted washing the dishes so you will have washing the dishes, i try to make up a song warnings: none

a/n: finally found the random inspiration for this drabble that ended up with more than 1k words. purely self-indulgent. bear with me. as someone who always washes the dishes, i want this. bow.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Minghao is a strong believer in physical touch as a love language.

Popular media doesn’t showcase this all too well because of the image and concept that has been formed around him. Still, physical touch is the love language that remains superior in his opinion. This means being able to reach out to the other person and hold them in any manner, being in proximity to them to express how you feel, and being in the same room with each other regardless of what you are doing.

He says it’s about having something tangible to hold—tactile in his hand and palpable on his body—and how he appreciates having the people around him to physically ground his thoughts and dreams that can soar as high as the heavens allow. It reminds him that he doesn’t just have his rational mind anchoring him down but also something and someone to help make sense of things.

Minghao, contrary to popular belief then, is actually a very clingy person.

Words are not and will never be his strong suit. Yes, he can write. Yes, his words are like poetry, like water flowing through the rough in cascades of emotion, but they only come out when the cup is full. On a day-to-day basis, Minghao expresses his love which can be felt even through the slightest brush of hands.

This is a fact that you learned almost immediately.

He comes home, wordless, whether to his place or your place, and the first thing he does is go in for a hug. No matter where you are or what you are doing, he forces you to stop so he can hug you for who knows how long, deeply, fully, and wholeheartedly—not that half-assed wraparound from the side that people excuse for a hug.

It’s a habit he started during a particularly trying time in his life. He would pull you closer and engulf you in his arms, burying you in his scent as he buries himself in the crook of your neck or the crown of your head.

Naturally, during a particularly trying time in your life this time, you picked up his habit easily and did the same to him.

Scientific studies show that a 20-second hug is enough to release oxytocin that can lower stress levels and improve quality of life. Whatever the research says, you and Minghao do agree that this little practice has made your lives easier and more bearable than they used to be.

Recently though, you always end up missing each other at home. He would come home late nights and early mornings after schedules to find you sound asleep in your bed, while you would wake up a few hours later to his sleeping form recovering from the previous day’s demands. You’d come home one too many days to a space devoid of his comforting presence, and the same could be said for him.

It happens, you think. It’s absolutely normal. Being this busy just means that both your lives are taking a turn for the better, right?

But still, you miss him, despite coming home to each other every day. You miss the simple act of sharing your silence together and you miss the way his touches would simultaneously calm you down but also keep you on your toes.

Today, you couldn’t help but feel lonelier than usual as you set your jacket and bag down to be greeted by a dark apartment room. Based on his last message a few hours ago, Minghao was still in the studio practicing. He sent a selca with the other performance unit boys and you don’t deny how you stared at his sweaty hair and bare smiling face for a minute longer than you thought you did.

But you had a good day at work, where everything just worked out the way you wish every day would, and you absolutely will not let anything rain on your small moment of happiness. No, not even the mess of a room you left this morning and not the pile of dishes you didn't realize remained unwashed this morning.

So you turn on the speakers and press play on a song that has Minghao’s voice fill the empty space. It was one of his unreleased demos for his recent solo EP. It was a shame because this was your favorite from his endless roster of songs—a song where the lyrics talked about how the most mundane of moments could be the most special if you had your love’s hand to hold.

You started on the dishes and got lost in the process almost meditatively in the menial task. It was enough to startle you when you heard your name from behind you. You see him in fresh clothes and slightly damp hair, a clean scent emanating from his presence.

“When did you get home?” You asked in reply to your most favorite voice in the world.

“Just now,” Minghao instinctively reached out to latch onto your waist, easily letting your gravity pull him to you in your natural ritual of finding purchase in each other's nooks and crannies. As if you were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly, he molds his body against yours with his chest flush to your back and his hands folding on the flat of your stomach.

He breathed in your scent and you felt his smile against your temple. Instantaneously, you relax against his touch as he says against your ear, “I missed you.”

You turn to find his lips, softly pressing yours against them and repeating his words to him. With a smile, you continue your reply with a melody to your voice. “Come here, hold my hand.”

You feel his chuckles with his cheek pressed on yours when he says, “But you’re washing the dishes.”

“I can do both.”

So he does, intertwining one of his hands with yours—albeit awkwardly—and helping you finish the chore in front of you. His soft giggles mingle with yours as you two find a rhythm to washing the dishes among four working hands.

You two stay in this position for a while with the song still playing in the background, the lyrics resounding as you sway in time with the rhythm.

“Come here, hold my hand, pull me in, and let me orbit around your gravity…”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still from my little drabble request game and still accepting requests! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

[witchygagirlwrites]

Consider Me Gone-Part 1

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/ Gerstead x Reader

You know your guys love you but when a case brings up bad memories and they don't turn to you? That makes you begin to doubt yourself, your relationship, everything.

You could still remember the look on your sister’s face when you told her you were deploying. The fear, the apprehension. She was afraid of you not coming home, afraid that if you made it home you wouldn’t be the same woman that left. You knew the risks that came along with the path you chose, you also knew the risks of not taking it. You had to do something with your life and that was the only path you could’ve taken at that point in your life.

When you were tasked to the 75th regiment you’d nearly questioned your commanding officer. There were men and women in the 68W that had a lot more time under their belt than you but he’d been content with your record and next thing you knew your boots were hitting the dirt in Korengal Valley.

When you reported to duty you were introduced to your unit, the men and women who you would be responsible for keeping alive under fire. Two men stood out amongst them. One with sky blue eyes, the other seafoam blue. Both of them equally gorgeous with smiles that would’ve stopped you in your tracks had you met them under different circumstances. They watched you intently from the moment you said your name and the commanding officer told the unit to be welcoming to you because “She’s gonna keep your sorry asses alive” 

It took all of a half an hour before Jay Halstead and Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz were introducing themselves to you. “Mouse huh?” you asked and he’d given you a grin that showed off a set of dimples “It’s a stupid nickname but I’m the first to admit it” you cut your eyes at Jay “How’d he get it?” he winked at you “Oh sweetheart you gotta earn that story” From that day on the three of you always seemed to find each other. 

One day you had just stepped out of the med tent to catch your breath, the scent of blood heavy in your nose. You had lost someone, you knew it was hopeless from the moment he’d been brought in. You hadn’t told him that. The letter in the pocket of your pants felt so much heavier than a folded sheet of paper. He’d pressed it into your hand and begged you to make sure his boyfriend got it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to find air that didn’t burn your lungs on the way down. “Doc, you feeling ok?” you turned at the sound of Mouse’s voice and forced a smile onto your face “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a doctor Gerwitz?” he grinned “You seemed pretty doctorish to me” you shook your head “Where’s your shadow?” he nodded across the way and you spotted Jay talking to Anderson “We just got back in” “Nice to see I’m not having to put either of you back together” you teased and he shrugged “We try our best to stay outta your way”

“The rest of the unit in one piece?” you asked and he nodded “Yes ma’am” both him and Jay always did that. Why, you weren’t sure. “Good, less people in my tent, the better” he nodded “We’ll be back for a few days. If you don’t wanna be alone” “You asking me to spend time with you? Aww that’s adorable” you teased and saw him bite back a grin “You’re a pain in the ass at times, you know that?”

You grinned “You and Jay wouldn’t hang out with me if I wasn’t and I damn sure wouldn’t have lasted this long in the rangers” he laughed “Ain’t that the truth” Jay started your way and smirked when he saw you “If it isn’t my favorite medic. Feel like giving me a once over yet doc?” you shook your head “I’ll sew your lips shut Halstead” he grabbed over his heart “You’re killing me sweetheart, killing me”

Athena, the only other woman out of your unit walked up and shook her head “Easy boys. The only one spending nights with our medic is me” she slung her arm around your shoulders and winked at you “Isn’t that right sugar?” you grinned “Damn right” and busted out laughing at the look on Jay and Mouse’s faces.

You spent two tours in that place. With Jay and Mouse it wasn’t so bad. They were your best friends, never looked at you like you were less because you were a woman and you felt comfortable around them which said alot.

The day you knew you had to get out was hell on earth. That damn convoy still haunted your dreams. Having to pull your unit out the flames, being forced to move on from the ones you couldn’t save and simply stabilize who you could and pray a chopper got there before you lost them. Mouse and Jay were medically discharged and you took your discharge as well. You couldn’t face it anymore. 

You never would’ve thought that the years spent over there would result in you falling in love with those two rangers who were always such a pain in your ass yet here you were. 

You groaned when you tried to stretch but movement was inhibited by two sets of strong arms wrapped around your body. You slowly opened your eyes to see that Jay was curled up to your back, hands holding your hips and face pressed between your shoulders, while Mouse had his arms thrown over your stomach and his face resting on your breasts as pillows.

At least they were comfortable. You shifted, trying to figure out a way from under the mess of limbs when Jay’s hands tightened on your hips and you felt his erection pressing into your ass “Princess, it’s a little too early for you to be making sounds like that and squirming up against me like that”

You shot him a playful glare “If my boyfriends didn’t act like I was going to run away in the middle of the night maybe I could get up to go get coffee” Mouse’s lips teased across your bare chest “Well if it hadn’t taken us years to convince you to want us maybe we wouldn’t be worried”

You turned your head back towards him and he was grinning up at you from where his head was still laid on your breasts. “You two were flirts then when we got home we didn’t see each other for a while then well let’s not talk about then” he moved up to brush a gentle kiss against your lips “No let's not talk about then”  Jay slipped a hand around your neck to gently tilt your head back to him “Let’s talk about now” his lips were feather light but being in their arms were always like a fire being set inside of you. It had been that way since you finally let yourself give in that first time. 

“We’re all gonna be late for work” you reminded and Jay grinned “I set the clock back an hour so we’d have more time” you shook your head “You’re horrible” he shrugged “We love our girl, what’s horrible about that?”

You felt Mouse’s hand slip down between your thighs and when you let them fall open without thought he chuckled “Looking like you don’t care too much about being late love”

By the time you parked at med Will was already texting you asking where the hell you were at. You didn’t dignify your dear brother in law with a response and simply pocketed your phone and headed inside.

When you passed the front desk Maggie smiled “Good morning” “Mornings Mags. Where’s Halstead? He’s blowing me up like I’m not still five minutes before my shift” She looked behind you and grinned. You turned around and glared up at Will “What’s the rush?” his eyes widened “They have baby nurses from the med school here. If I didn’t have you they’d stick me with one of them” you shook your head with a laugh “Oh honey” 

You knew as much if not more than most of the doctors here but you hadn’t had the desire to get the doctor title. Registered Nurse suited you just fine, besides they knew what you could do here. Most of the time you either worked side by side with Will or Ethan. Neither of them ever questioned your call. You waved a hand “Fear not big red. Your favorite nurse is here. Let’s start the day”

He slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug “I don’t know how my brother ever got lucky enough to get you” then pointed you towards his first patient’s room.

_______________

You were just sitting down in the breakroom when your phone chimed with a text from Erin Mollys tonight? Please?? You laughed lightly and texted back I’ll meet you there dear. Let the boys know their choices are either go out with me or I’m going alone

You opened your water and barely got a bite of your sandwich before two texts popped up in the group text thread between you, Jay and Mouse that read We’re coming and Baby, don’t play like that you shook your head and texted back was just giving you options geez

Ethan walked in and sat down across from you, leaning back in his seat. You cut your eyes up “You good Choi?” he nodded “Yeah, just beat” you nodded in agreement. This shift had been back to back. Your lunch break was supposed to be four hours before. You’d managed to eat a pack of the crackers Maggie kept in her desk between running tests but that had been about it. 

“You working tomorrow?” you asked and he shook his head “No, how about you?” you shook your head “No, I’m off for two days? I think.” he looked up “Our schedules sync up then” you grinned “Good, I like working with you and Will” he laughed “That’s just because we both know you’re a trauma specialist you just don’t have the title” you grinned “Exactly”

When you got home Jay and Mouse were already there. Jay was laid across the couch when you walked in and you could hear Mouse somewhere in the house. Jay grinned when you walked in “There’s the sexiest medic that ever walked” 

You shook your head “Easy ranger. Just a trauma nurse nowadays” he reached a hand out so you let him pull you to him, having to straddle his waist to keep from just falling across him. His eyes flickered across you and even in your scrubs, with your hair falling down he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on, then again he’d looked at you like then when you wore ACUs.

His hands gripped your thighs gently “I love you baby” you smiled “I love you too Jay” you leaned down to steal a kiss from him and the moment your lips met you heard Mouse “Oh I go to finish the laundry and get left out”

You looked up from where you were on Jay and grinned “He got me time I walked in, sorry” Mouse shook his head “Thought we agreed a long time ago, we both got her” Jay looked up at him “Can you blame me? Look at my view?”

You shook your head and kissed Jay before climbing off of him. You walked over to Mouse and pulled him into a kiss before checking the time “I gotta shower so I can meet Erin and Kim” That was all it took for Jay to jump up off the couch and Mouse to snap to attention “Want some company?” you shook your head, that was what had taken so long finding this place, a shower big enough for three.

“Come on then. No funny business or I’ll kick you out of the shower” you warned, leading the way to the bathroom and feeling their hands teasing you on the way. “You didn’t say no funny business before the shower” Mouse teased, lips close to your ear.

You walked into Mollys between Jay and Mouse. Jay had your hand in his, his fingers curled around yours and Mouse had his fingers hooked in your belt loops. You’d teased them that you looked like a flight risk. They’d replied that they were just keeping a hand on you. 

When the music hit you along with familiar voices you looked around and spotted the rest of intelligence at the end of the bar, well minus Voight and Al. “There she is!” Erin called and you dropped Jay’s hand and pulled away from Mouse to pull her into a hug. She grinned over your shoulder at the two of them “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep her”

____________________

“I’m just saying, I have seen a t-shirt and some duct tape save a leg” you laughed and Adam raised an eyebrow “Did you do it?” Jay leaned up over your shoulder considering you were currently sitting halfway in his lap “Yes she did”

You cut your eyes back at him “You weren’t even there sir” he shrugged “No but Anderson told me about it” you shook your head and looked back at Adam “Point is in the moment you’d be surprised what could be useful Ruz”

Mouse walked back up with Kevin and the drinks they’d gone after. He passed you your then handed Jay his beer before brushing a kiss against your lips. You grinned then he sat down next to you. “How did you ever get stuck with these two anyways?” “Watch it Lindsay” they both warned playfully. You laughed “They were already a bonded pair, if I took one I had to take the other”

Everyone started laughing at your response but you made sure to lean back against Jay and reach out for Mouse just in case they took your teasing to heart.  “Is that the trifecta?” you heard a voice say and your eyes widened. Only one person ever called you, Jay and Mouse that.

You jumped up from Jay’s lap, He was on his feet and Mouse was too as Athena walked up to your group. She looked how you remembered. Five foot nine, honey brown hair tied up and bright amber eyes. You never did understand why the boys went for you while she was there but you were glad they did. She’d been a heaven sent amongst the testosterone during those days. More than one night had been full of laughter in your shared tent.

“Athena!” you hollered, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly, nodding to Jay and Mouse “Hey boys” Once she let you go she hugged them both. “What are you doing in Chicago? Last time we talked you were in D.C?” you asked because she was stationed at the marshal office there. She nodded “I’m in town working a case. Heard this was a good place to get a drink. Didn’t expect to find my unit here”

“Are we gonna get introduced?” Kim asked and you laughed lightly “Oh Athena this is the unit Jay works in and that Mouse is a tech expert for” you introduced them one by one. She nodded “What about you fireball?” you grinned “You know me, I’m at the hospital” “Trauma specialist?” she asked and you shook your head “Trauma nurse” “Close enough. You know more than any of those M.D.s do”

___________

The four of you caught up a little but then she needed to join the people she’d come with so all of you traded your newest numbers before she left. You noticed Erin and Kim both cutting their eyes at her as she walked off but didn’t think anything of it until Erin whispered “Do we like her?”

You nodded “She’s good” “Are you sure. Cause if you don’t like her, we don’t” Kim whispered and you laughed, making Mouse shoot you a look. You shook your head “You don’t wanna know baby” before telling them both “She’s ok. She was in the same unit as us. The only other woman. She had my back a lot” “Ok” Erin said after a moment and Kim nodded too.

“That was insane seeing Athena again” you laughed, walking into your house. Mouse nodded “Yeah, been a while since we saw anyone out of the unit” “Yeah” Jay agreed.

You tried and failed to stifle a yawn which made them share a grin “I think we need to put her to bed” Jay laughed. “Only if you two come with me” you pouted and they both shook their heads “She’s so damn spoiled. What happened to that medic that used to threaten to sew my lips shut?” Jay asked and you grinned “I figured out I like you being able to use your lip and your tongue and other things”

He cut his eyes at Mouse “I say we make sure she gets a good night's rest. What do you think?” Mouse’s eyes were glued to you “I say that’s a damn good idea”

Two days passed and you didn’t really think too much more about Athena being in Chicago. You ended up pulling doubles at the hospital and Intelligence had just finished wrapping up a drug bust worth a quarter of a million.

You stood at the front desk, rubbing your hand across your eyes. “You good?” Will asked and you looked up at him “Aces” he grinned “I swear you act too much like you’re with my brother at times. You can admit if you’re tired or something” you shook your head “I’m fine Will, really. I need some coffee and maybe some water too then I’ll be good as new” 

He nodded “Do me a favor and add some food somewhere in that mix? I’m gonna get my ass kicked twice over if you pass out on my watch” you grinned at him “Don’t worry if they kick your ass while I’m out I’ll take care of it when I wake up. We have the same base training”

You rotated your neck in a tight circle and got ready to go back to work but your phone started ringing. You pulled it out and saw it was Erin. “Hello?” you answered and her voice was low “Can you talk?” “Yeah, why?” your stomach knotted at her tone. She took a deep breath before saying “They probably wouldn’t want me to tell you but we caught a case that I think may have triggered something for your fellas. I overheard Jay and Mouse talking about Henderson? It sounded like they were arguing and that this case had enough similarities to remind them”

Your hand flew out to the desk to steady yourself. Memories of the shape Mark had been in when he was found flew through your head, how hard you worked to stabilize him and the striking realization that all you had to offer his wife was that after all the hell he suffered he died with a friend at his side. 

You vaguely registered her calling your name twice before April touching your arm snapped you back to the present “Yeah? Um thanks Erin for letting me know. If they start arguing and cause interruptions to the case, call me?” “Of course” 

You hung up with her and looked at April who was staring at you with an unspoken question written plainly across her face “I’m ok April” she shook her head “You know I live with someone who served, right?” you offered her a smile “I promise, I’m ok” she smiled slightly “If you need someone to talk to I’m here and if you need someone who’s been there Ethan is always there for you too” “Thank you” you told her and she nodded “Of course”

She walked off so you slid your phone into your pocket. They would call if they needed you, if not you’d talk to them that night. Mark was a hard spot for all of you. His wife’s cries still haunted your dreams on some nights.

About an hour before you were getting off Jay sent a text in the thread We’re gonna grab a beer after work ok, normally they would have worded that do you want to grab a beer after work. Were they not including you? Just you two? You asked and felt your heart hit your feet when he texted back Thena is still in town so she’s gonna meet us. We won’t be long. We love you 

Was it the memories of Mark’s final moments, the ghost of his wife gripping to you begging you to say it wasn’t true or the slap in the face of knowing your guys were hurting and not seeking you out that forced the tears from your eyes? You weren’t sure but angry hot tears slipped down your face before you could stop them.

“Woah, what’s wrong and don’t you dare say nothing” Will asked and you hadn’t even realized he was standing over you. What were you supposed to tell him? Will loved you like a sister, yeah but Jay was actually his brother. How could you explain you were crying because your boyfriends wanted to get a beer with someone out of their unit? It’s not like they were being sneaky and hid it. They told you.

“Um, bad day Will” you whispered and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Want me to call Jay?” “NO!” you said a little harsher than you meant to. He pulled back and looked down at you “Are you sure you’re ok?” You nodded “Yeah, just had some stuff trudged up. I just need to make another hour, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry the guys”

“If you need me, I’m here” he reminded you with a smile before kissing the top of your head “I am your favorite brother in law after all” you shook your head “Mouse is an only child” he grinned “Even more reason for me to be your favorite” 

Once he walked away you let your face fall. Maybe you were reading too much into it? That was all? You just needed to focus. You couldn’t split attention at work. Lives were at risk.

You parked next to Jay’s truck and took a deep breath. You wouldn’t push. If they wanted to talk to you, they would. God please let them talk to you. 

You grabbed your belongings and headed inside. You needed to start a load of your scrubs. You went through two pairs this shift alone and they had to be washed separately.

_______________

You walked in the door and they were sitting on the couch, watching the Blackhawks game. “Hey baby” Mouse greeted with a smile. “Hey” you replied, moving past them towards the laundry room. “You ok sweetheart?” Jay called behind you and you rolled your eyes to not bite off a comment you may later regret “I need to start a load of my scrubs. I went through two pairs this shift” 

You heard them moving as you walked into the laundry room and turned to see they were at the door “I washed them love. They’re in your dresser” Mouse told you with a smile. “Oh, thank you” you replied, dropping the dirty bag to the floor and pulling the scrubs out to pretreat.

You saw them exchange a look before Jay asked “Did we do something we don’t know about?” you didn’t look at them and just shook your head “No” “How long have we known you sweetheart? We know what that no means” Mouse pushed so you dropped the scrubs in the washer then turned to face them “Nothing is wrong, ok? I had a long day, I’m tired. You two are apparently aces so I’m gonna go shower”

________________

You started the washer then pushed past them to get out of the room. Both of them reached out to grab you, Mouse around the waist and Jay your arm “Uh uh” “What is it baby?” 

You took a deep breath then said “Erin called me about the case. Said you two were talking about Henderson” “Oh” “Oh” 

You nodded slowly “Oh, so we don’t communicate anymore?” Jay shrugged “It’s not that big of a deal. This case, the victim..he was tortured for information” “It was really similar to Henderson” Mouse added. “Are you two ok?” you asked, looking from one to the other. You knew them. Mouse would need to talk it out when old memories were trudged up and Jay would try to bury it all unless you forced him to talk.

“Yeah, that’s why we grabbed the beer with Thena, talk with someone who was there” Jay explained and he could have punched you dead in the gut and it would have hurt less. “Someone who was there?” he realized his wording and looked to Mouse for help on backpedaling.

“Baby he didn’t mean it like that” you shook your head “Fuck it. I need to shower” you stormed past them, shrugging their hands off your body. “Alone”

________________

You could hear Jay and Mouse both outside the door, trying to talk to you but you ignored them, turning the water on as high as you could get it and sinking to the floor of the shower. “Someone who was there” nice to know everything you went through didn’t mean a damn thing. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the salty tears hit your lips. You didn’t try to stifle your sobs. What were they gonna do? Go talk to Athena about it?

______________

When you got out of the shower and dressed you opened the bathroom door to find Mouse sitting on the floor on one side of the door and Jay on the other “What are you two doing?” you asked and Mouse said “Waiting for you, we heard you crying” “I’m fine Greg” you sighed and walked past them to the bedroom.

You crawled into bed, curling up in the middle where you usually slept. They quickly disrobed and climbed into bed on either side of you. “Can we touch you?” Jay asked and you nodded. You felt them slip their arms around you and closed your eyes trying not to let his words play through your head yet again. “I love you sweetheart,” Mouse whispered. “I love you too Greg” 

“I love you princess” Jay whispered and you nodded “I love you Jay” you forced your eyes to close. You desperately needed sleep, maybe you’d feel more clear headed come tomorrow? Maybe you would be able to form calm enough thoughts to approach the whole “Someone who was there” comment without tears or screaming coming into the equation but for tonight you needed sleep.

@desimarie12

@alterna123

[th3mrskory]

Chapter 3: The Weight of Kindness

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Original fem!Reader x Origins!Logan

Warning: none. Just a slow burn (I promise it will be worth)

Word count: 7.5k

The mornings in Clearwater always started the same way: crisp air creeping in through the cracks of the cottage, the faint hum of the river in the distance, and the occasional call of birds breaking the silence. Evelyn was beginning to grow used to it. The quiet wasn’t as suffocating as it had been in the beginning. Now, it felt more like a blank canvas—a place to paint the pieces of her new life.

She was halfway through her second cup of coffee when she heard the now-familiar sound of Logan’s truck rumbling up the driveway. The low growl of the engine sent a ripple through her chest, though she told herself it was just the caffeine. By now, his visits had become something she half-expected, even if he never gave her notice.

The truck door creaked open, and Logan climbed out, toolbox in hand. As always, his expression was calm, unreadable, though his gaze flicked briefly to her as she stepped out onto the porch.

“Morning,” he greeted, nodding as he approached.

“Morning,” she replied, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Back to tackle the roof?”

He set the toolbox down near the steps and glanced upward. “Figured I’d finish what I started.”

“Efficient as always,” she said lightly, folding her arms as she leaned against the porch railing. “You sure I’m not keeping you from something more important?”

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze flicking to hers. “If I had something better to do, I wouldn’t be here,” he said simply.

The bluntness of his response caught her off guard, though she couldn’t say it surprised her. Logan had a way of cutting through pleasantries with a kind of straightforwardness that was rare. It left her unsure whether to feel grateful or unnerved.

“Fair enough,” she replied, stepping aside to give him room. “Just don’t let me overwork you.”

He huffed softly, a sound that might have been a laugh, and picked up the ladder he’d left leaning against the porch. “Let me worry about that.”

For the next hour, Evelyn busied herself in the kitchen, sorting through a box of utensils she’d finally unpacked. Every so often, she glanced out the window to check on Logan, though he hardly seemed to notice. He moved with the same deliberate efficiency as always, his focus unwavering as he hammered and replaced shingles.

She had just finished organizing the drawers when a sharp knock at the door startled her. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she opened it to find Logan standing there, his expression as steady as ever.

“Need to shut the water off,” he said, nodding toward the side of the house. “Pipe under the sink’s leaking. Saw it when I was looking for tools earlier.”

“Oh. Right. Let me show you where the valve is,” she said, stepping out and leading him around the side of the house.

As they crouched near the access point, the silence between them felt heavier than usual. She wasn’t sure why, but it made her want to fill it.

“I meant to ask,” she started, glancing at him as he worked on the valve, “that stack of firewood… was that you?”

Logan didn’t look up, but there was a slight pause in his movements before he answered. “Figured you’d need it.”

Her lips parted, though the words she wanted to say didn’t come right away. Finally, she settled on a simple, “Thank you. That was… really thoughtful.”

He gave a small nod, still focused on the valve. “Don’t mention it.”

But she couldn’t help but feel like it meant something—that even in his quiet, distant way, Logan cared more than he let on.

By midday, Logan had finished repairing the roof and fixing the leak. The cottage felt sturdier now, less like it would crumble under the weight of a storm. As he packed up his tools, Evelyn brought him a glass of water, which he accepted with a quiet “Thanks” before draining it in a few quick gulps.

“You know,” she said as he set the glass on the railing, “I’m starting to feel like I owe you more than just a thank-you. You’ve done so much for this place already.”

Logan shrugged, wiping his hands on a rag. “You’ll pay me when I’m done.”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “What if I insist on paying you now?”

“Then I’ll tell you to save it,” he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. “Pay me when the place doesn’t look like it’s been abandoned for a decade.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Alright. But don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” he said, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The next day, Evelyn made another trip into town. The grocery list in her hand was short, but she’d added a few extra items as an excuse to linger. She hadn’t been here long enough to feel like a local, but the townsfolk were friendly, and there was something comforting about the small, familiar faces she’d begun to recognize.

As she browsed the aisles of the general store, she overheard snippets of conversation—the kind of small-town gossip that seemed to flow as easily as the air. Her own name came up more than once, though she tried not to let it bother her. People were curious, that was all. A new face in a place like this was bound to stir interest.

At the counter, Nancy, the ever-cheerful clerk, greeted her with a warm smile. “You’re becoming a regular,” Nancy said, ringing up her items.

“Guess that means I’m settling in,” Evelyn replied with a small smile.

“How’s the cottage coming along?” Nancy asked, handing her a paper bag.

“Better, thanks to Logan,” she said without thinking.

Nancy’s eyebrows lifted. “Logan?”

“Yeah,” Evelyn said, tucking the bag under her arm. “He’s been helping with the repairs.”

Nancy’s expression turned to one of mild disbelief. “Are you sure it was Logan? The Logan Howlett we all know?”

“Pretty sure,” she replied, bemused. “Why? Is it that unusual?”

Nancy chuckled, shaking her head. “Let’s just say Logan’s not exactly known for being… helpful. He keeps to himself, mostly. Always has.”

“Maybe he’s just misunderstood,” Evelyn offered, though she wasn’t entirely sure why she felt the need to defend him.

Nancy gave her a knowing look. “Maybe. Just don’t expect him to change overnight.”

“I’m not looking for him to change,” she said firmly. “I’m not looking for anything, really. Just peace and quiet.”

Nancy smiled, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “Well, Clearwater’s good for that. Just be careful. This town has a way of surprising people.”

As she loaded her groceries into the truck, Evelyn couldn’t shake Nancy’s words. Is it that unusual? She’d already known Logan was an enigma, but the way people spoke about him made it clear there was more to him than met the eye.

The drive back to the cottage was quiet, the sun dipping lower in the sky as the forest swallowed the narrow road. When she pulled into the driveway, she caught sight of the firewood pile again, its edges catching the last light of the day.

For all his gruffness, Logan had shown her more kindness than she’d expected. Maybe even more than she deserved.

She shook her head, brushing the thought away as she carried the groceries inside. Logan was an enigma, yes. But for now, that was all he needed to be.

The gossip didn’t stop there. In a town as small as Clearwater, news spread faster than wildfire. By the end of the week, Evelyn couldn’t step into the general store or the diner without catching snippets of hushed conversations that stopped abruptly when she walked by.

“Did you hear?” a woman whispered to her friend near the bread aisle. “Logan Howlett… helping her? It’s not like him at all.”

“Maybe he’s sweet on her,” the friend replied, giggling softly. “She’s not bad-looking...”

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush as she turned the corner, pretending not to hear. But it didn’t stop. Every visit seemed to bring more murmurs, more speculation. By the time she sat down for lunch at the diner, even the waitress gave her a knowing smile.

“You’ve been busy, huh?” the waitress said, placing a cup of coffee in front of her. “I’ve heard Logan’s been helping you out. That’s… surprising.”

“Not really,” Evelyn replied, trying to sound casual. “He’s just fixing a few things around the house.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Sure, hon. Just fixing a few things.”

Evelyn sighed, staring down at her coffee. The attention made her skin crawl, the way people spoke as if they knew something she didn’t. It was exhausting.

By the time she returned to the cottage that evening, she’d made up her mind. She needed to put some distance between herself and Logan—not because of anything he’d done, but because the town’s chatter was beginning to suffocate her.

She threw herself into her crocheting to distract herself. It was something she’d picked up years ago, a way to calm her restless hands and quiet her thoughts. Now, it became her escape. She spent hours on the porch, weaving intricate patterns into blankets, scarves, and shawls. Her collection grew quickly, and soon she decided to sell them at the local market.

The market became her refuge. Unlike the general store or the diner, it was a place where she could blend in, where the focus was on her work rather than her personal life. She set up a small stall, displaying her pieces with pride. The townsfolk were quick to admire her craftsmanship, and before long, her crocheted goods became a hit.

“These are beautiful,” one woman said, running her fingers over a soft, pastel-colored shawl. “You’ve got quite the talent.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn replied with a genuine smile. “It’s just something I enjoy doing.”

The market gave her a sense of purpose, a way to connect with the town on her own terms. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For now, it was enough.

By the second month, Evelyn found herself slipping into a rhythm. The days were structured but unhurried, the kind of life she had dreamed of while packing up her old one. Mornings were spent crocheting on the porch, the needles clicking in time with the soft rustle of the trees. Afternoons meant either running errands or preparing for the next market day.

Though she was still getting used to the slower pace, there was something undeniably soothing about it. She didn’t need to prove herself to anyone here. The cottage, the market, and the quiet of the woods offered a strange kind of comfort—like the world had finally stopped expecting things from her.

But that didn’t mean the whispers had stopped.

The market, while a refuge, still carried its share of small-town curiosity.

“Logan’s been helping you, hasn’t he?” a younger woman named Clara asked one afternoon, her eyes sparkling with intrigue as she fingered a crocheted scarf.

Evelyn hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “He’s been kind enough to fix a few things around the house.”

Clara grinned, leaning in slightly. “He must like you. Logan doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”

The comment sent a ripple of unease through her chest, though she forced a polite laugh. “He’s just a good neighbor, that’s all.”

Clara hummed, her expression playful but speculative. “Evelyn, I’ve lived in Clearwater my whole life, and I can tell you Logan isn’t exactly neighborly. You might be the exception.”

Evelyn busied herself with folding a blanket, willing the conversation to end.

Back at the cottage that evening, the air felt heavier than usual. She couldn’t shake Clara’s words—or the weight of the town’s lingering curiosity.

Logan had been nothing but decent, helping her without asking for anything in return. But the more people commented on his unusual behavior, the more aware she became of his presence. Or rather, the absence of it.

It had been over a week since his last visit, and though she told herself she didn’t miss him, the thought of his quiet, grounding presence tugged at the edges of her mind.

The cottage, once a haven, felt emptier now. She tried to shake the feeling, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of her crochet needles.

But when a knock came at the door just after dusk, her heart leapt in a way that made her immediately scold herself.

She opened the door to find Logan standing there, toolbox in hand and his usual unreadable expression fixed on her.

“Evening,” he said simply, nodding toward the door. “You mentioned the kitchen sink still had a drip?”

“I—” She paused, momentarily flustered. “I did, yes. Come in.”

Logan stepped inside, his boots clunking softly against the worn floorboards. He moved toward the sink without preamble, crouching to inspect the pipes beneath it.

As he worked, Evelyn found herself hovering nearby, unsure whether to offer conversation or leave him to it.

“Thank you,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

“For what?” he asked without looking up.

“For coming all this way. You didn’t have to.”

He glanced up briefly, his eyes meeting hers. “You needed help. That’s reason enough.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that left her momentarily speechless.

By the time Logan finished the repairs, the sun had fully set, casting the cottage in a warm, golden glow from the fire she’d lit earlier.

“That should hold,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “Do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got stew on the stove.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the door before returning to her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “But it’s the least I can do.”

Logan studied her for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Alright.”

The meal was quiet but not uncomfortable. They ate at the small kitchen table, the soft crackle of the fire filling the silence.

“Do you ever get tired of this?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the stillness.

“Tired of what?”

“This town. The quiet. The routine.”

Logan set his spoon down, considering her question. “Not really. It’s all I’ve known for a long time.”

She nodded, her fingers brushing against the edge of her bowl. “I used to think I wanted something like this. But now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“You’re figuring it out,” he said simply.

“Am I?” she asked, a soft laugh escaping her. “Because some days it feels like I’m just… existing.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his expression remained steady. “Existing’s not a bad place to start.”

His words settled over her like a blanket, heavy but comforting.

As the night wore on and Logan eventually took his leave, Evelyn found herself lingering by the door long after his truck disappeared down the road.

For all her attempts to keep her distance, she couldn’t deny the strange comfort his presence brought. But with the town’s whispers still swirling in her mind, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

The next few days passed uneventfully, but Logan’s visit lingered in Evelyn’s mind. His quiet presence, his matter-of-fact words—they stayed with her long after he’d left.

She threw herself into her work, hoping to drown out the thoughts swirling in her head. Her crocheting became more intricate, her market stall fuller, and her days busier. Yet, no matter how much she tried to distract herself, she couldn’t shake the growing awareness of Logan Howlett.

At the market that weekend, she was in the middle of rearranging her display when Clara appeared again, a sly smile already tugging at her lips.

“Looks like business is booming,” Clara said, gesturing toward the crowd that had gathered around the stall.

“Something like that,” Evelyn replied with a polite smile.

“And how’s Logan? Still playing handyman?”

Evelyn stiffened slightly but forced her expression to remain neutral. “He fixed the porch and the sink. That’s about it.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I heard he stayed for dinner the other night.”

The comment made Evelyn freeze, her heart skipping a beat. “Who told you that?”

Clara shrugged, clearly enjoying herself. “Small town, hon. Nothing stays secret for long.”

“It was just dinner,” Evelyn said firmly, her voice sharper than she intended.

Clara held up her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying—it’s not every day Logan goes out of his way for someone.”

Evelyn didn’t respond, her jaw tight as she turned back to her display. The words followed her for the rest of the market day, crawling under her skin like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

That evening, she returned to the cottage feeling drained. The whispers, the insinuations—they were suffocating. She wasn’t looking for anything with Logan, and she certainly hadn’t invited the town’s scrutiny.

But as she sat on the porch, her crocheting forgotten in her lap, she couldn’t deny the nagging voice in the back of her mind. Why had Logan gone out of his way to help her? And why did his presence feel so… steady?

She shook her head, standing abruptly and heading inside. It didn’t matter. Logan was just a neighbor, nothing more.

Logan wasn’t one to care much about gossip. The town had been talking about him for years—ever since he’d first moved here—and he’d learned to tune it out.

But something about the way they talked about Evelyn set his teeth on edge. The whispers weren’t malicious, but they carried a weight he didn’t like. They made her sound like she needed saving, like she was fragile.

He knew better. She wasn’t fragile—far from it.

Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that his presence in her life was making things harder for her. And for someone who’d spent years avoiding entanglements, the thought didn’t sit well.

The tension finally came to a head a few days later when Logan showed up at the cottage unannounced.

“Logan,” Evelyn said, startled to see him standing on the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in,” he said simply, his tone calm but firm. “Heard some things in town.”

Her stomach dropped. 

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Figured I’d see how you’re holding up.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m fine. I just… wish people would mind their own business.”

“Small towns don’t work that way,” he said bluntly.

She huffed a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah, I’m starting to realize that.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Finally, Evelyn spoke.

“Maybe we should keep some distance,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding him.

Logan’s jaw tightened, though his expression didn’t waver. “If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, though he didn’t step closer. “Figure it out. I’ll still be around.”

With that, he turned and walked back to his truck, leaving her standing in the doorway, her chest tight with conflicting emotions.

Back in town, the gossip didn’t slow down, but Evelyn tried her best to ignore it. She focused on her crocheting, on the small victories of fixing up the cottage, on finding her footing in a place that still felt half-foreign.

But Logan remained a quiet presence in the back of her mind—steady, unshakable, and more complicated than she wanted to admit.

For the next week, Evelyn made a conscious effort to avoid Logan. It wasn’t easy—not in a town as small as Clearwater, where everyone knew everyone and paths seemed destined to cross. But she managed.

She skipped the diner for lunch, opting to eat at home. She avoided the general store during its busiest hours, running errands only when she was sure Logan wouldn’t be around. At the market, she kept her focus solely on her crocheted goods, packing up early and heading straight back to the cottage.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. She told herself it was for the best—for both of them. The whispers were becoming unbearable, and her skin prickled every time someone made a passing comment about Logan.

But the avoidance didn’t feel like relief. It felt like suffocation.

Logan noticed the change immediately.

He wasn’t the type to pry, but even he couldn’t ignore the sudden distance. Evelyn had been avoiding him, her absence in town as obvious as the whispers that followed them both.

He didn’t like it.

Not because he was hurt—at least, that’s what he told himself—but because it felt unnecessary. If the town wanted to talk, they’d talk. Avoiding him wouldn’t change that.

Still, he kept his distance. He wasn’t going to push her, wasn’t going to force her into something she clearly didn’t want. But the questions gnawed at him, his mind replaying their last conversation.

The distance between them grew wider with each passing day.

Evelyn spent more time at the cottage, her hands constantly busy with yarn as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. But the quiet of the woods didn’t offer the same peace it once had. Now, it felt too still, too heavy, as if the air itself were pressing down on her.

She missed Logan’s presence more than she cared to admit. His quiet strength, his straightforwardness—it had been comforting in a way she hadn’t expected. But the weight of the gossip made her hesitate.

One evening, as she sat on the porch, the needles in her hands moving on autopilot, she caught sight of headlights coming down the road. Her heart skipped, and she immediately cursed herself for it.

The truck slowed as it passed, and for a moment, she thought it might stop. But Logan didn’t even glance her way as he drove by, the rumble of his engine fading into the distance.

The next morning, she made her usual trip to the market, hoping to blend in and avoid any further speculation. But as she set up her stall, Clara appeared once again, her expression as curious as ever.

“Morning, Evelyn,” Clara said with a smile that bordered on mischievous.

“Morning,” Evelyn replied, keeping her focus on her crocheting.

“Haven’t seen Logan around lately,” Clara remarked, leaning against the edge of the table. “Did he finally stop playing handyman?”

Evelyn forced a laugh, though it came out more strained than she intended. “He’s busy. Probably has better things to do.”

“Hmm,” Clara hummed, her gaze sharp. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Logan doesn’t exactly drop everything for just anyone.”

Evelyn stilled, her fingers brushing over the soft yarn. She kept her tone light, almost playful. “You seem awfully interested in Logan lately. Any particular reason?”

Clara tilted her head, her smile widening slightly. “Just curious, that’s all. He’s been keeping a low profile.”

“Has he?” Evelyn replied, raising an eyebrow. “Funny, I thought you weren’t the type to notice.”

Clara’s smile faltered for just a moment before she straightened up, smoothing her blouse. “Well, I suppose everyone has their reasons for keeping tabs on him.”

Evelyn said nothing, her gaze steady as Clara shifted awkwardly under the weight of the silence. Eventually, Clara cleared her throat and muttered a hasty goodbye, retreating into the bustle of the market.

By the time the market day ended, Evelyn felt like a live wire, every nerve frayed and buzzing.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Logan finally showed up at the cottage.

Evelyn was on the porch, her crocheting abandoned in favor of a mug of tea she’d been nursing for the past hour. She stiffened when she saw his truck pull into the driveway, the headlights cutting through the growing dusk.

He stepped out, his expression calm but with an edge of something she couldn’t quite place.

“Evening,” he said, his voice low as he approached the porch.

“Logan,” she replied, setting her mug down. “What are you doing here?”

“Haven't seen you around,” he said simply, his gaze steady. 

Her chest tightened, guilt mixing with frustration. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the railing. “Heard about that. Been hearing a lot of things, actually.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and she looked away, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “It’s nothing,” she said quietly. “People talk. That’s all.”

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. “People are always gonna talk. Doesn’t mean you have to listen.”

“I don’t—” She paused, shaking her head. “I just… I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

“For me?” Logan asked, his brow furrowing.

“Everyone in town keeps bringing you up,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “Everywhere I go, it’s ‘Logan this’ and ‘Logan that.’  And Clara…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “She seems especially interested.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Clara’s just mad I said no.Let her talk.”

Evelyn blinked, caught off guard. “Said no to what?”

He leaned casually against the porch railing, his tone even, as though the subject carried no weight for him. “She wanted more than I was willing to give. Didn’t take it too well.”

Evelyn frowned, unsure whether to feel relieved or unsettled. “And now she’s making it everyone’s business?”

Logan shrugged. “Let her. It’s not worth losing sleep over.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Evelyn muttered, her frustration spilling over. “You’re not the one constantly dodging whispers and side-eyes.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady but not pressing. “You’re new. Small town like this, folks are always looking for something to gossip about. Just don’t let them drag you into it.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the darkening horizon. “I just didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You think I care what they say about me?”

She looked at him then, her chest tightening at the honesty in his gaze. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “But I care if it’s making you miserable.”

The admission caught her off guard, and she stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“I’m not gonna stop helping,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “If you want me to stay away, I will. But don’t think for a second that you’re bothering me.”

The tension in her chest loosened, replaced by a strange, quiet warmth. “I don’t want you to stay away,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nodded, his expression unreadable but calm. “Good.”

He lingered for a moment longer, then turned and headed back to his truck. As she watched him drive away, the weight she’d been carrying felt a little lighter.

A week after Logan’s unexpected visit, Evelyn finally had a landline installed in the cottage. It wasn’t exactly a modern convenience—Clearwater’s phone system still felt a few decades behind—but it was enough to ease the distance between her and the outside world.

She’d been putting off calling her family, but the persistent weight of their unanswered letters pushed her to dial the number.

The phone rang twice before her mother picked up.

“Evelyn!” her mother’s voice burst through the receiver, equal parts relief and reproach. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”

She laughed softly, tucking the cord under her arm as she cradled the phone. “I’m sorry, Mom. Things have just been...busy.”

“Well, I hope you’re not working yourself into a frenzy out there,” her mother said, her tone turning slightly worried. “Have you been eating properly? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine, really,” Evelyn assured her. “I’ve even started crocheting again. And I’ve made some friends—well, acquaintances, really. The town’s nice.”

Her mother paused, as if weighing her daughter’s words. “And how’s the cottage?”

“Coming along,” she replied. “It’s still a mess, but it’s my mess. I’ve been making repairs.”

“Oh?” her mother said, curiosity piqued. “You? Making repairs?”

“Well...not exactly,” Evelyn admitted, glancing out the window as if Logan’s truck might magically appear. “There’s someone in town who’s been helping.”

Before her mother could ask more, a knock at the door interrupted her train of thought.

“Mom, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

Her mother sighed but relented. “Alright, but don’t let it be another month before I hear from you again.”

“I won’t,” Evelyn promised, hanging up just as the knock sounded again.

She opened the door to find Logan standing there, toolbox in hand and his usual calm expression in place.

“Morning,” he said, nodding toward her.

“Morning,” she replied, stepping aside to let him in. “You’ve got impeccable timing.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as he set the toolbox down. “That right?”

“I just got my landline installed,” she explained, gesturing toward the phone perched on the counter. “First call I made was to my mom. She was, uh, very curious about how I’m ‘surviving.’”

Logan huffed softly, a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Moms tend to be like that.”

“Yours the same way?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Logan paused, his gaze flicking to her briefly before returning to the toolbox. “She was,” he said simply, his tone giving nothing away.

Evelyn nodded, sensing the line she’d accidentally toed. “Well, she’s just happy I’m not starving in the middle of nowhere.”

“You talk to them often?” Logan asked, his voice casual as he pulled out a wrench.

“Not as often as I should,” she admitted, leaning against the counter. “I think it worries them—me being out here on my own.”

“They know you can handle yourself?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“I think they do,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But parents worry, no matter how capable you are.”

Logan nodded, his hands steady as he worked. “Smart to have a phone. This place feels cut off sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she said, watching him thoughtfully. “But I think that’s part of why I chose it.”

He didn’t respond right away, but there was a quiet understanding in his expression.

As Logan worked on repairing a leaky pipe under the kitchen sink, Evelyn found herself lingering nearby, the sound of his tools filling the space between them.

“So, do you ever get tired of fixing things?” she asked, tilting her head.

Logan’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk. “Depends on what’s broken.”

“That’s a very diplomatic answer,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Keeps people from asking too many questions.”

Evelyn laughed softly, shaking her head. “Fair enough.”

When Logan finished the repairs, he packed up his tools with his usual efficiency. But as he turned to leave, she stopped him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer than before. “Thanks. For everything. I mean it.”

Logan met her gaze, his expression as steady as always, though there was a flicker of something warmer in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether to say more, but then he gave a brief nod and stepped out the door.

As she watched him drive away, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words—and the ones he hadn’t spoken. For someone who kept to himself, Logan had a way of saying just enough to leave her wondering.

Logan didn’t go straight home after leaving the cottage. Instead, he headed toward the logging site, the truck bouncing slightly over the uneven dirt road. The early morning fog had lifted, leaving the forest bathed in crisp, golden light.

The hum of chainsaws echoed in the distance as he pulled into the clearing where the crew was already at work. He climbed out, toolbox in hand, and gave a short nod to the men gathered near the equipment shed.

“Look who decided to show up,” one of the workers, a wiry man named Pete, called out, grinning as he leaned against a stack of freshly cut logs.

Logan ignored the comment, tossing his gloves onto a workbench and pulling an axe from the rack.

“Been busy, Howlett?” Rick added, his grin laced with curiosity. “Heard you’ve been spending a lot of time down by the river. Something there more interesting than timber?”

The words were casual enough, but Logan could hear the underlying curiosity—the small-town hunger for gossip. He shot Rick a look, one that would’ve made most people back off, but Rick just chuckled, undeterred.

“C’mon, man,” Rick said, slinging an arm over Pete’s shoulder. “We’re just curious. Word is you’ve been playing handyman for that new girl in town. You helping her out of the kindness of your heart, or is there something we should know?”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he adjusted his gloves, ignoring the bait.

“Quiet type, huh?” Pete piped up, grinning. “Bet she likes that.”

Logan straightened, his gaze cold as it swept over them. “You got time to gossip, you got time to work,” he said flatly, grabbing his axe and heading toward the tree line.

Rick raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright. No need to get touchy.”

But the murmurs didn’t stop as Logan walked away, their voices carrying faintly through the trees.

He worked with single-minded focus, each swing of the axe driving out the noise from earlier. The rhythmic crack of wood splitting echoed in the quiet, his muscles moving with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent years in this line of work.

And yet, his thoughts kept circling back to her.

Evelyn.

He didn’t know what it was about her that stuck with him. Maybe it was the way she tried to act so put-together, even when it was clear she was holding herself together with frayed edges. Or maybe it was how she looked at him—not with fear or judgment, but with something closer to curiosity.

She was different. That much was obvious. And not just because she was new to Clearwater.

Logan had spent most of his life keeping people at arm’s length, and for good reason. People in this town loved to talk, to pry, to dig into business that wasn’t theirs. It was easier to stay quiet, to keep to himself.

But Evelyn wasn’t prying. If anything, she seemed to guard her own secrets just as fiercely as he guarded his.

That’s what made the town’s chatter so irritating. The way they twisted something simple—him fixing her porch, patching her roof—into something more.

As if they knew him.

As if they knew her.

The crack of a falling tree pulled him from his thoughts, and he stepped back, watching the trunk crash to the ground with a satisfying thud. He adjusted his gloves and moved to the next tree, letting the rhythm of the work take over again.

Later that day, during lunch, Rick plopped down on the stump next to him, unwrapping a sandwich. “So, what’s she like?” he asked casually, taking a bite.

Logan didn’t look up. “Who?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb Howlett. The new girl. Evelyn.”

“She’s none of your business,” Logan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Aw, c’mon,” Rick said, grinning. “We’re just curious. Pretty girl like that, all alone out there… Kinda hard not to wonder, y’know?”

Logan set his axe down with deliberate slowness, his gaze sharp as it met Rick’s. “You wonder too much, Rick.”

Pete snorted from a nearby log. “Take it easy, Howlett. Nobody’s accusing you of anything. Not yet, anyway.”

Logan’s silence was enough to make them shift uncomfortably. He picked up his axe and stood, brushing past them without another word.

As he returned to the tree line, the faint sound of their laughter followed him. But it didn’t bother him—not really. What bothered him was the way they talked about her, like she was some kind of novelty.

They didn’t know her. And if he had his way, they never would.

By the time Logan finished for the day, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows through the trees. His truck rumbled down the dirt road, the smell of pine and sawdust still clinging to his clothes.

As he drove down the dirt road, the turnoff to Evelyn’s cottage came into view. He slowed slightly, his eyes flicking toward the driveway. Her truck was parked there, and the faint glow of light spilled from the windows, warm and inviting.

He thought about stopping. About checking in, just to make sure everything was alright.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he kept driving, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders.

Logan had grown accustomed to the rhythm of life in Clearwater, to the predictable routines and quiet moments. But he hadn’t realized how much of that rhythm had come to include Evelyn—not until her truck disappeared from the driveway.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her at the cottage. He’d stopped by on Wednesday to drop off some spare firewood, but there had been no answer when he knocked. The house had been dark, the truck conspicuously absent, and he’d left without pressing further.

By the end of the week, curiosity turned into something heavier—a weight in his chest he couldn’t explain.

The chatter at the logging site hadn’t helped.

“You hear she’s gone?” Pete said during lunch, biting into a sandwich. “Packed up and left, just like that.”

Logan’s grip tightened on his thermos. “She didn’t leave,” he said flatly.

“You sure about that?” Pete pressed, his grin smug. “Haven’t seen her around. Maybe she got tired of all the attention.”

“Or maybe,” Rick chimed in, “she figured out Clearwater’s not as quiet as she thought.”

Logan shot them both a glare that could’ve split wood faster than his axe. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice low and cold.

Pete held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just saying—wouldn’t blame her if she did.”

Logan didn’t respond. He stood abruptly, tossing the rest of his lunch into the trash before heading back to the tree line.

The thought lingered with him throughout the day, the idea that she might’ve left because of the town’s relentless gossip. He’d heard it himself, the whispers about how she’d been spending time with him, the not-so-subtle insinuations that made his jaw tighten.

If she had left, it wasn’t because of him—or at least, that’s what he told himself. But the nagging doubt refused to fade.

That evening, as the sun dipped low behind the trees, he found himself driving past her cottage again. The driveway was still empty, the windows dark.

His chest tightened.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was far from Clearwater, setting up her crochet stall at a bustling weekend market two towns over. The trip had been planned for weeks, a way to expand her reach and bring in some extra income.

The market was a flurry of activity—families strolling between stalls, vendors shouting their deals, the air thick with the scent of roasted nuts and fresh bread.

She’d sold almost half her inventory by midday, the colorful shawls and intricate scarves drawing plenty of attention. But even as she smiled and thanked customers, her thoughts drifted back to the cottage.

And, inevitably, to Logan.

She hadn’t meant to avoid him—at least, not entirely. The gossip around town had started to wear on her, the constant murmurs and sidelong glances making her feel more exposed than she’d anticipated.

Selling her crocheted pieces had been a welcome distraction, a way to step away from the whispers and reclaim a little of the independence she’d worked so hard to build. But even now, standing in the middle of the crowded market, she couldn’t quite shake the thought of him.

When she returned late Sunday evening, the sky already dark, her headlights illuminated a figure standing on the edge of her driveway.

Her heart skipped. Logan.

He turned as the truck rolled to a stop, his expression unreadable but his posture rigid. She climbed out slowly, exhaustion tugging at her limbs.

“Evening,” she said hesitantly, pulling her bag from the passenger seat.

“Evening,” he replied, his tone as steady as ever, though his eyes lingered on her. “You’ve been gone a while.”

“I had a market to get to,” she explained, gesturing toward the back of the truck where the last of her unsold pieces sat. “Thought it’d be a good way to... branch out.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to the truck bed, then back to her. “Didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” she said, tilting her head. “Why? Did something happen?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “People noticed. Started talking.”

“People always talk,” she said with a shrug, though her stomach twisted at the thought.

“They thought you’d left,” Logan said bluntly.

She blinked, taken aback. “Left? Why would I—” She paused, realization dawning. “Because of the gossip?”

Logan didn’t answer, but the way his gaze shifted told her enough.

A mix of guilt and frustration bubbled up inside her. “I’m not running away,” she said firmly, her voice steadier than she felt. “Not from this place, and definitely not because of what people think. I’m here for me, not for them.”

Logan’s expression softened, just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Good.”

She sighed, leaning against the truck. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“You didn’t,” he said quickly, too quickly.

Her lips quirked into a faint smile. “Sure.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the night settling around them. Finally, Logan gestured toward the truck bed. “Need a hand unloading?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

As they worked together, the tension eased, replaced by the quiet camaraderie she was beginning to expect from him. And as they carried the last of the boxes into the cottage, she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, the weight of the town’s whispers fading into the background.

By the time they finished unloading the truck, the cottage was filled with the faint smell of lavender and cedar, remnants from the crocheted pieces she hadn’t sold. Evelyn leaned against the counter, watching as Logan wiped his hands on a rag he’d pulled from his pocket.

“Thanks for the help,” she said, her voice softer now.

Logan gave her a short nod, his usual response, but there was something different in the way he lingered by the door.

“Guess the market was worth the trip?” he asked, his tone casual but his gaze steady.

“It was,” she replied, brushing her hair back. “People seemed to like what I had. Sold most of it.”

“Good,” he said simply.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy—filled with things unsaid.

“Wait,” Evelyn said suddenly, straightening. She crossed the room and opened a small wooden chest she kept by the couch, rummaging through the neatly folded scarves and shawls she’d brought back from the market.

Logan watched her, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’re you doing?”

She didn’t answer right away, pulling out a dark, hand-crocheted scarf with subtle patterns woven into the soft yarn. Turning, she held it out to him.

“Here,” she said, her tone light but her expression earnest. “For you.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking between her and the scarf. “I don’t need that.”

“It’s not about needing it,” she replied, stepping closer. “It’s a thank-you. For all the help with the cottage. And the firewood.”

Logan stared at the scarf for a moment longer, as if debating whether to take it. Finally, he reached out, his large hand brushing hers briefly as he accepted the gift.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said quietly, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it.

“I wanted to,” she replied, her smile small but genuine. “And besides, winters here get cold, right? Consider it practical.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. He glanced down at the scarf, running his thumb over the intricate stitching.

“It’s nice,” he said after a beat, his tone thoughtful. “You’re good at this.”

The praise, simple as it was, warmed her more than she expected. “Thanks,” she said softly.

Logan nodded, folding the scarf carefully before tucking it under his arm. “See you around,” he said, his voice steady again.

“Yeah,” she replied, watching as he stepped out into the night. “See you.”

She stood by the door, listening to the sound of his truck rumble down the driveway and fade into the quiet of the forest.

The gossip might not stop, and her life here might not get easier overnight. But as she looked around the cottage, now filled with the warmth of her handiwork and the faint echoes of Logan’s presence, she felt something she hadn’t in a long time.

Hope.

_______________________________________________________________tagging some amazing people that showed interest on my previous post (if you don't want to be tagged please let me know):

Taglist

@coocoocachewgotscrewed @latinapiscess @littlebunnybigheartfics @themareverine @pandapetals @logansbaby @the-quick-red-fox @throwmethroughawindow @ifyouseethisnoyoudont22 @galacticglitterglue @whos-nin1

@thisismajortom21 @may-vol-6 @Oh-basic @sarahbarbosa22 @luvpalepinkjazz @irish-pooka @yologans @equilight @lxrxvsp @h4nluv @uncannywolverine @thesecretlifeofmo @mystifiesjdmtcw @socisse @thickynicky547 @peculiarpiscess @tezooks @greenturtlegirl @greenbearplaidbow @eummm @benispunk @th8mz @jounal3sports @alsoprettyinpink @softepiloguemylove @manicandobsessive @b-y-3-n @blahkateisdone @karencaribou @sidkneeeee

© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[gaytommykinard]

(this...got long. there's a lot of backstory and two OCs. bear with me)

ok i was brainstorming in the gc about this bucktommy different first meeting au thats canon divergence from s2 which would begin with buck as a single dad to a 4 year old

because one day he wakes up and social services is at his (abby's) door like surprise! you have a child! or at least that's what it feels like because buck never knew about the kid's existence because the kid's mom did not deem it worthy to let him know. it's not like she couldn't track him down, they were facebook friends. but she still kept this from him? which would cause him so much turmoil, like, that she didn't want her kid to know buck is her dad? local area man loses last shred of self esteem he already had a strenuous grasp on.

but now she's dead, so he can't even talk to her about it, and yeah, there's a 4 year old girl in his house who is missing her mom and not liking this new stranger at all. buck is trying so fucking hard to not break down in front of her but he comes close several times. like, is he ready to be a dad? hell no! he's not now (27) any more than he was when she was born (23) but the point is he IS a dad and he's trying so hard to be a good one. (listen, if you know more about the system and you think this is all wrong: i am sorry. this is a romcom and/or romdrama genre type of story. okay? cool!)

so this woman, someone he knew briefly, and they didn't exactly date, but it wasn't exactly a one-night-stand either, but this woman put him on the birth certificate because she was planning to tell the kid when she was old enough and let her decide if she wants to meet him. she wasn't planning on having kids this soon (28), but it happened, and she decided to keep it, she had a decent job and her own place and an adorable, grumpy old cat who stuck himself to her 24/7 when she was pregnant. her parents were well off and yes, of course they were disappointed, because they wanted better for her, but they got over it quickly. and she really liked evan, but he was three states over by the time she found out, and it seemed like a headache to try to coparent with the fuck buddy you hardly got to know for the month and a half you were together, anyway.

the tragedy is that buck will never really know that. this is very much a putting him in a jar and shaking it around scenario. the point is... buck is struggling. a lot.

and then he meets tommy one night. a rare night out (it's taken him a while to get everything sorted, get his daughter registered in a preschool, find a reliable babysitter (who knew childcare is so fucking hard to arrange when you're estranged from your family and your friends are either the people who work alongside you or your ex-(frat house)-roommates?) but he's getting a handle on things) and chimney invites him out one night because he's going stir-crazy at home recuperating from the near fatal stabbing and buck owes him for all the babysitting favours (there were like. 3 instances, if that. and chimney volunteered because he's actually good with kids, which totally surprises buck but he trusts chimney. and he trusts hen a little more)

anyway. he shows up at the bar and there's chimney and a total stranger. a very handsome stranger. a very funny, charming, handsome stranger.

and tommy. ten minutes into the conversation (work calls, chimney wanted to know, he has terrible fomo), chimes in with, "wait, you're the probie!" because he'd heard a thing or two from chimney, they kept in touch after he transferred, no one, not even canon, can take away my chimneytommy bestfriendsim from me, okay? like chimney would text tommy "can't believe you abandoned us. the probie just stole the ladder truck to get laid" so tommy does not expect this guy to be that guy from chimney's stories.

and yeah. buck had barely finished his probationary year before he got custody of his daughter. and it's been maybe half a year of trying to parent a grief-stricken 4-year-old with more energy than she knows what to do with (once she warms up to buck, she comes out of her shell, and quite literally wreaks havoc in the new house, which isn't in the best state to begin with anyway). and he's so tired. there's like permanent bags under his eyes and a preschool-slash-childcare calendar floating around in his brain 24/7. he maxes out at two beers and then switches to a glass of wine tommy recommends and nurses it for the rest of the night.

because the two of them stay and keep talking long after chimney heads home. tommy listens as buck rambles on about remy. offers to bring her around harbor and he'll give them both a tour. and buck lights up at that. he's totally enchanted by tommy (and he can't really figure out why just yet)

tommy gets a text from chimney the next day asking if he got lucky. and oh my god he fucking wishes he had gotten lucky. he was so tempted to ask if buck wanted to come over. have another drink with him at home. (if buck was into it, then yes, he'd be totally down to fuck. if he got awkward, tommy would have clarified that it was merely a friendly invitation. it's schrodinger's preposition). but he chickened out at the last minute, because yes, he's out now, but still not as confident as he'd like to be, not brave enough to ask out another firefighter, and definitely not a friend of a friend.

but buck calls him about that tour and tommy is more than happy to show them around. he talks to remy like she's his equal, and she warms up to him right around the end of the tour, finds her voice and asks tommy how high can he fly and tells him she can fly higher than that. tommy finds that adorable. (enough to buy her an RC helicopter for christmas. he "was at the shop buying stuff for the toy drive anyway, evan, it's not a big deal! you're the one who said she asked santa for a helicopter!")

it is absolutely a big deal. buck is like. a puddle on the floor. god help him. and yes at some point it occurred to him that he likes tommy. like-likes him. so buck invites him over on christmas eve eve when they're both off and accidentally-on-purpose catches him under the mistletoe and kisses him.

evan buckley started the year as a straight, single man and a probationary firefighter. and he's finishing it a bisexual dad to his 4 year old daughter, and a "we'll see how it goes but yeah i'll be your date for new years eve" man by his side. and i think that's hilarious.

[lyss-sketchbox]

With Natlan's AQ coming to a close and I had time to really think about it and see other's perspective of it. I have some thoughts. And its gonna discuss the entire AQ as a whole and not just Act 5.

In short

More consistent action and flare than Fontaine

Way too much 'waiting for the right moment' and no other preparations are shown because of it.

The blind trust to said moment. Noone vetoed this, noone was worried about this, noone doubted this. So everything felt weightless.

Mavuika is a mary sue. Her hardheaded and blind trust to an event that may or may not happen just so happens to go right. She's so confident it'll work out she spent the days leading up to the final battle painting. So everything she does has no weight to it when it's blatantly obvious they're gonna win and ruined anything hoyo tried to do to create any tension.

Capitano is the goat and it's a shame he had a fraction of the screen time but alot more impact.

I have to say the level of action and flare they used in the entire AQ is alot more consistent than Fontaine.

We all should admit that we came into an AQ expecting interaction and action from playable characters and not NPCs unless they built them up enough to care for. Fontaine's evidence searching and crime solving part is understandably slow for some people and it can really hinder the pace, especially Meropide's part where it fully focuses on NPC's instead of actually figuring out Wrio's and Lyney's plans (which is sidelined until the very end)

The action scenes and AQ specific domains are great. I like that they aren't making us watch still images or summaries of events and actually let's us play through certain scenes, especially the Act 4 war and Act 5 making our way to the eye of the Abyss part. I love that it gives us choices and consequences based on our choices and ACTUALLY shows that consequence instead of telling us. Makes it feel like they're putting effort into the story telling.

The actual weight of the plot...? Not so much. I think it is very cliche with not alot of active impact from playable characters. The ending falls flat compared to what was set up.

In Act 1-2, it felt cliché for Paimon to point out 'oh look it's time for us to solve this nation's crisis', pointing it out doesn't make it any better but this is just a pet peeve and pretty neglegible.

I was sceptical about Natlan from the start, I admit that, but I like how the characters had an active choice and struggle during these acts. Kachina chose to stay in the tourney and train, Mualani chose to switch teams, they didn't wait for a thing to happen to do thing, they initiated it first.

Mavuika and Capitano fight still doesn't make sense to me. It's alot of needless flare with no substance to me. It feels like Capitano just waltzed in there with no other plan than to fight Mavuika for the gnosis. Like he didn't even plan his escape, he just so happened to be saved by Ororon.

Act 3-4 while had character interaction, feels tonally wrong. Like are Mavuika and co. NOT doing anything else but to wait for the 6 heroes to show up? Mavuika FOUGHT against Capitano's methods because she believes her way is better but it feels so... shallow? She just trusts that the 6 heroes will show up on time without any doubts or Plan B's at all...? Also in the beginning Mavuika told us to be careful when sharing the news that a war might break out but the first thing we do is... tell people...? Out right...? Sure.

The war was done well, I like that we have choices and consequences. The end sequence literally is a My Little Pony clone but it does fit with the consistent theme of solidarity in war and nationalism. Still felt cheesy to me.

Act 5. ACT 5 is the worst tonal shift of all time to me. So we spent the first half celebrating when we know something else is there, no preparation or doubts. Even Mavuika is like 'ah yes let me paint to pass the time :)', it feels... arrogant, it feels as if it's absolutely undisputed that we are gonna win. So there's no tension at all even when they finally try to make the final battle feels important. Even the stadium bit feels off, there's literally NO signs that we are losing but for some reason the Sacred Flame goes out...?

While I like that they brought out memorable NPCs from world quests, the part about the 6 heroes feels so extremely tacked on. Like wow the 6 first heroes gave us blessings randomly in the middle of the sequence even though the actual power up sequence to get pyro traveller is still... way after that so it felt... useless? The entire boss battle even feels so weightless because yeah, you're gonna win, what is there to root for lmao.

Don't get me started on the celebration afterwards, the long awkward section where you allegedly spend a while giving out autographs and taking pictures. It feels like Hoyo is popping a party popper in our face and going CONGRATS YOU DID IT! CELEBRATE NOW! THIS IS A CELEBRATION. If they were trying to divert our attention from Mavuika's death then it's a shit attempt. Because the final battle didn't feel like it had weight, so it feels not worth celebrating.

Capitano is the only saving grace of this AQ and even then he's been sidelined for the entire act so while the logic for his sacrifice to Ronova was great (hell even more hyped about this than the entire final battle), it didn't have the impact it probably should've had. It felt like he had an entire side quest that we didn't get to see or hint at unless you count the very first dream opening Act 5.

Now my biggest issue with this nation is WHY IS THERE SO MUCH WAITING FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT????

Kachina deserved to be one of the 6 heroes instead of Xilonen. We literally don't know what Xilonen and Iansan even do to earn that title but they just... are??? We atleast see Kachina fighting for a spot in the Night Wars and we hear about Mualani and Kinich's wins but Xilonen and Iansan???

Mavuika vetoed Capitano's plans that actually had substance and logic behind it because she just.... trusts that it'll happen. Does she not worry they won't show up?? Does she not have Plan B's?? She had absolutely 0 worries at all so she just... feels so flat. Then in the final battle she just... doesn't worry at all, like I understand as an archon and a leader it's best that you act like it, but there's like... absolutely zero signs that she's worried. Even when she's talking to her LONG LOST SISTER SHE'S JUST... FINE??? MOVES ON??? ARE YOU NOT GONNA TELL YOUR WORRIES TO YOUR SISTER??? OR DO YOU JUST NOT HAVE WORRIES AT ALL????

Man idk, the ending flops for me. Rip capitano one of the only good thing about this nation and he isnt even from it. But we SEE HIS STRUGGLE, HIS DOUBTS, HIS FAILURES, AND HIS SACRIFICE AND SUCCESS WHILE WE GET SHIT ALL FROM MAVUIKA SO LIKE????? WHAT WE'RE THEY DOING???????

[averyfuckingtiredyounglady]

Shattered

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: You hadn’t meant to become his crutch. He hadn’t meant to become yours. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred, and the late-night hookups turned into something more. Something that neither of you could admit out loud.

genre: smut, angst, psychological horror, [hidden bonus]

word count: 7.5k

warnings: twist? main plot element is a surprise, mature themes, detailed sex scenes, ambiguous ending, y/n is down bad

a/n: aaayyee. the long awaited spooktober fic in january no less! this was a huge challenge for me, i wanted to take this in a direction that is completely unnatural for me, that plus the concept is what made this take so long to finish. this was really hard to write. that being said this is fucking weird. this is not going to be a lot of people's cup of tea i don't think. i personally havent seen any fics like this (and i read a lot) which is why i wrote it. I would hope someone could write something like this even better than i could maybe lol. But yeah please enjoy

_

“What?”

When you looked up at him half of his face was hidden in darkness, one half illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window and the other shaded. You could still make out the expression on his face, the frown of his brows, the glossiness of his eyes, his gaze set firmly on you.

“Are you really okay with how things are right now?

“What do you mean?” You set your phone down, matching his posture. You looked at Hyunjin, cocking your head to the side inquisitively.

He exhaled, letting out a strained sigh as he leaned down resting his head against his clasped hands before he spoke again.

“I don’t think this is going to work anymore. This isn’t good for me. I can’t pretend like I just want to come here to fuck and hang out and go home.. like.. like I don’t care about you. Like we don’t care about eachother… more than this.”

He lets his words fall from his mouth hurriedly, quick enough that he doesnt stop himself.

You don’t know what really brought this on. Why does he want to talk about this right now? What did you say? Was it something you did?

You’ve been aware that Hyunjin had feelings for you, though he tried not to show it, it was obvious. You just wouldn’t acknowledge it. Why should you? What good would that really do?

You sit across from Hyunjin, and you can all but see it, his heart, pulsing, rhythmically in his hand, gushing blood all over your living room floor.

You take a deep breath, feeling the light sting in your lungs before you exhale. You avoid his eyes, staring somewhere at his chest, eyes unfocused.

“You don’t really have a choice.” You let out. Your words hanging in the air like damp clothes on a line. Hyunjin sniffed at this, eyes searching around the room, the way he mustve been searching inside himself for the correct words to say to you.

You unfold your legs, leaning over to reach out a comforting hand to him, setting it on his thigh reassuringly, as this was all you could do.

“I don’t like it all that much either. I don’t. But, what am I to do? This is what works for us right now.” You squeeze his leg tighter, as you squeeze your next sentence out of your chest. “I can’t go through that again. Not right now. You understand?”

It’s not like you had to explain what you meant. How you felt. As he knew well, from firsthand experience what heartbreak could do to a person. What it did to him, but it didnt stop how his chest throbbed now as you rejected him. It didnt stop the way his body tensed up, staving the urge to reach out and hold you, as youd expressed discomfort in that.

So, he didn’t... hold you... he didnt do anything. Instead, Hyunjin collected his things and left your apartment, his mind clouded by thoughts of you that would stay with him that night.

You sat for a moment, clammed up on the floor, heart pricked with sharp shards of emotion that stirred a physical ache in your chest. The feeling was heavy, almost suffocating. It was a kind of pain that wasn’t just emotional—it felt tangible, a pressure that seemed to press in from all sides, making it hard to breathe.

For a few moments, you stayed there, paralyzed by the weight of it all. Slowly, silently, you lifted yourself from the floor, steadying yourself against the edge of the coffee table. Each movement was careful, as if any sudden shift might destroy the delicate balance you were holding together.

As you turned toward your bedroom, you bumped into the table, your water glass tumbling over before you could react, shattering as it hit the floor.

Freezing for a moment, you stared at the fractured pieces scattered across the floor. Your reflection appeared in the jagged shards—split into fragmented pieces, your face warped and out of place.

“Shit,” you muttered, crouching down to pick up the broken pieces. The sharp edges of the glass caught the light as you gingerly gathered them in your hands. You couldn't shake the odd feeling that the image, fractured and distorted, mirrored something deeper inside you.

You woke up with an unfamiliar heat under your skin. When your eyes focused, you stared up at the ceiling, an orange glow spread across the tiles, sunlight creeping through a nearby window. “This isnt my bedroom…Its hot in here. I’m so thirsty.” You lay there breathing as each new thought vying for your attention made its way to the front of the queue. You sat up slowly in bed, limbs feeling oddly heavy. You feel the absence of any blankets. “This is not my bed either” “i know i was in my own bed last night” you recognize this is hyunjins place though you hadnt been many times.

And you remember the conversation you two had. The way he left, the way youd hurt him again.

“Where is Hyunjin?”

Then, you catch sight of the mirror.

You feel a scream crawling up your throat

Hyunjin opens his eyes to pitch darkness. The air feels thick, too close around him, and when he sits up, the sudden lightness of his limbs makes his head spin. Where the fuck is the lights? He staggers out of bed, getting caught in piles of blankets.

It takes a moment for the full impact to hit him. He stares down at the body he’s in—your body—and his breath catches in his throat. His hands—no, your hands—move instinctively to his chest, and the soft weight of your body feels completely alien. His skin tingles with discomfort, every movement too light, too foreign.

He nearly falls rushing to the bathroom, heart rattling his chest as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, but it’s not you, it’s him. He feels a pull from the floor trying to yank him down, like he’s about to pass out.

This can’t be happening.

He presses his hands to his face, trying to ground himself, but the sensation of your soft skin under his palms only makes everything worse. It’s like being trapped in a body that doesn’t belong to him—a body he knows too well but never thought he’d experience this way.

His phone—no, your phone—buzzes on the counter, pulling him out of his spiral. He grabs it, fumbling with the unfamiliar interface until he sees the notification.

It’s a message from you.

You arrive at your apartment before you’re ready to face him—or rather, face yourself. The walk over had been surreal, every step heavier than usual, every movement feeling slightly off. The world itself seemed wrong, like everything was tilted just a little to the side. People had looked at you—at Hyunjin’s body—without noticing anything unusual, but inside, you were unraveling.

Now, standing in front of your apartment door, your heart pounds in your chest. The weight of it feels strange, like even your heartbeat is foreign. You hesitate before knocking, staring down at your—his—hands, trying to remind yourself that none of this is real. It can’t be.

Finally, the door swings open, and you’re face to face with yourself.

For a second, neither of you says anything. It’s like looking in a mirror, but worse—because it’s not a reflection. It’s him. Hyunjin, standing in your skin, his expression tense and uncomfortable, like he’s just as disoriented by seeing you as you are by seeing him.

“This is insane,” he mutters, stepping aside to let you in. Hearing your own voice come from his mouth makes you flinch, your stomach twisting painfully.

“You think?” you reply, your voice—his voice—sounding too sharp, too loud in the small space.

You walk into         the apartment, your movements awkward and stiff, trying to figure out how to exist in a body that isn’t yours. Everything feels wrong, from the way the muscles in your legs tighten when you walk to the way your hands rest at your sides. You’ve been in this body for less than a day, and you already feel like you’re trapped in someone else’s life.

Hyunjin stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his—your—chest, watching you carefully. He shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable, as if he’s unsure what to do with his hands or how to hold his face.. There’s a moment of shared awkwardness, a realization that neither of you knows how to handle this.

You give a slight nod in his direction, a small grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you take in the sight of your now-clothed body. “You dressed me?” you ask, amusement lacing your voice.

Hyunjin glances down at the baggy shirt draped over your figure—his shirt. “I mean… was I not supposed to?” he mumbles, crossing his arms again. “It only felt right…”

Looking down at yourself—his body—you swallow, the weight of it all settling heavily over you. “It feels… heavy,” you admit, your voice quieter now, thoughtful. “Like I’m too big for this space.”

Hyunjin nods, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that looks strange on you, “I know. It’s weird. Everything feels too... light.” He grimaces. “Like I’m fragile.”

“How do you deal with this?” Hyunjin suddenly asked, his voice quiet but pointed.

You blinked, frowning slightly. “Deal with what?”

“This,” Hyunjin said, gesturing vaguely to his—your—body. “The way everything feels so... tight. Like there’s always this knot in my chest. It’s exhausting.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart sinking at his words. Of course, you knew that feeling—knew it all too well. That constant weight on your chest, the ever-present tension that never seemed to go away. You’d been living with it for so long that it had become a part of you, something you barely even noticed anymore.

But hearing Hyunjin describe it, feeling it through your body, made it hit differently. He could feel what you’d been feeling all this time, and the realization left you reeling.

“It’s always been like that,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I just... got used to it.”

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you, his eyes—your eyes—softening in a way you hadn’t expected. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and you found yourself swallowing hard, trying to push down the rising wave of emotions. He was right, of course. You shouldn’t have had to carry that weight alone, but you had. For so long. And you didn’t know how to let it go.

“I don’t know any other way,” you confessed, your voice thick with emotion. Your eyes stay fixed to the floor, the tiles blurring as tears flood into your vision. You don’t let them fall. You tighten your fists as to not let them spill out.

For a moment, the silence between you stretched out,

“I get it,” he said quietly. “I’ve been carrying my own shit too. And I didn’t realize just how much it was weighing me down until now.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, you saw it—the exhaustion in your own face, the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of everything you’d been carrying. It was strange, seeing yourself from the outside like this, but it also made you realize just how much Hyunjin had been holding back too.

“This sucks,” you said softly. “But It’s no way we could have avoided this… considering how fucked up we were.” You wiped your eyes, a hint of smile appearing. “God. I fucking hate crying.”

Hyunjin nodded, “Yeah. And im an ugly crier so...” He allowed himself to let out a small chuckle.

There was a long pause, the kind that usually felt uncomfortable but now felt… necessary. Like you were both finally starting to understand each other, finally starting to see what you’d been avoiding for so long.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin said suddenly, his voice quiet but sincere. “For… everything. For not being honest with you. For not seeing you, really seeing you, before all of this.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat at his words. You hadn’t expected an apology but hearing it now—hearing it from your own voice, no less—made your chest tighten with emotion.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “For pushing you away. For pretending this was just… casual. When it wasn’t.”

Hyunjin’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was no need for words. The understanding that passed between you was enough. You were both broken in your own ways, both carrying the weight of past relationships and unspoken emotions, but now—finally—you were starting to share that weight with each other.

And it felt like a small, tentative step toward healing.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. The sense of unreality lingered in the air as you sat across from each other, still coming to terms with the strange new reality of being in each other’s bodies.

Hyunjin—your body sprawled on the couch—stared up at the ceiling, idly tapping his fingers against his leg. It was a movement so familiar, yet now it felt unsettling.

You sat on the edge of the armchair, elbows resting on your knees as you tried to process everything. There had to be a way to switch back, but as the realization that you might be stuck like this, at least for a little while longer, sank in, your skin crawled.

The rest of the day was spent in a strange, quiet rhythm. You’d both come to terms with the fact that you were stuck in each other’s bodies for the time being, and though it was still unsettling, the initial panic had subsided. Now, there was an unspoken agreement to figure things out together, to navigate this bizarre situation one step at a time.

There were awkward moments, of course. Simple tasks like eating breakfast or getting dressed were strange, and you both kept stumbling over the unfamiliar movements of each other’s bodies. But there were also moments of quiet understanding, where you could feel the growing connection between you.

At one point, you caught Hyunjin staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his—your—hand resting against the sink as he studied his face. He didn’t say anything when you passed by—the quiet contemplation, the way his fingers traced the curve of his cheek—made you feel like he was seeing something in you he hadn’t before.

He was learning you, just as you were learning him.

And though the situation was still bizarre, there was a strange comfort in that. A sense of closeness you hadn’t expected, but now that it was there, you couldn’t imagine going back.

Your eyes flick to Hyunjin laying on the couch. The arm of the sofa cradling his head and his -your- hair purposefully laid over it. You’ve seen your body a thousand times before, but never like this. Never from the outside, with someone else inhabiting it. It feels... strange. And unsettling. And a little too intimate.

Hyunjin shifts, watching you from the corner of his eye. his gaze trailing over you—your hands, your face. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you now, something you can’t quite place.

“I don’t know how you do this,” he says softly, almost to himself. “How you live in this body.”

“I could say the same about yours,” you reply, your voice low, your throat tight and you can feel the weight of Hyunjin’s body pressing down on you, heavy and unfamiliar.

You move to sit next to him, taking a small space on the edge of the couch. Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours again. There’s a sense of unfamiliarity and heightened awareness that thickens the air, and you know you both can feel it. It urges you closer to him—closer to yourself.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach out, your hand—Hyunjin’s hand—brushing lightly against his—your—knee. It’s a simple touch, barely anything, but the feeling of it—of his skin under your hand—makes you want to touch him more.

The moment stretches, heavy with anticipation, and neither of you moves. You can feel your pulse in your throat, in your chest, everywhere, and suddenly, the distance between you feels too far...

Your eyes trace the lines of your body, the way Hyunjin is sitting in it—his posture so different from yours, his movements more restrained, almost hesitant. It feels strange to see yourself like this, to see him in you. And even stranger to feel the pull in your chest that comes with that realization.

Hyunjin’s eyes flick up to yours, and something shifts in the room. It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but you feel it—like a current passing between you. The air feels charged now, thick with something unspoken but undeniable.

“I can’t get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. He’s still looking at you—at his own face—like he’s trying to make sense of it, like maybe the answers are buried somewhere in your skin.

You swallow hard, your pulse thudding in your ears. “I don’t think we’re supposed to,” you reply, your voice low, rough around the edges. “But here we are.”

Hyunjin lets out a slow breath, his gaze dropping to where your fingers had brushed against his skin. There’s a tension in the way he moves, a kind of restraint, like he’s holding something back. And for a moment, you wonder what it would feel like to stop holding back. To stop pretending this isn’t happening, that there isn’t something pulling you together, drawing you closer.

The couch feels too small now, too confined. Your body—his body—feels too big for the space, and your skin feels too tight. Every breath feels like it’s pressing up against something just out of reach. You shift, turning slightly toward him, your knee brushing his—your—leg in the process.

Hyunjin doesn’t pull away this time. He just looks at you, his eyes—your eyes—searching yours. And in that moment, you realize that you’re both feeling it—that strange pull, that raw, unspoken need for connection, for understanding.

You’ve always been good at pushing things down, at keeping your emotions locked up tight, but right now, with Hyunjin sitting there in your body, the lines are blurring. It’s like you can feel the weight of his confusion, his frustration, and maybe something more.

“I wonder if...” Hyunjin starts, but his voice trails off. He doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t have to. You know exactly what he’s thinking because you’re thinking it too.

Before you can second-guess yourself, before you can let the confusion or fear settle in, you lean in. Your hand moves almost on instinct, reaching for him—reaching for yourself, really—and it’s not gentle, but it’s not forceful either. Just a touch. Just enough to bridge the gap that’s been widening between you.

Your fingers trace the line of your jaw—his jaw, now—and you feel the smoothness of the skin beneath your fingertips. It’s surreal, touching yourself like this, feeling the angles and shapes you’ve only ever seen in the mirror. But it’s more than that. It’s the way Hyunjin looks at you while you do it. He looks out of it, like he has a million thoughts running through his head and he’s chasing after each one.

The tension that’s been simmering between you both finally boils over.

Hyunjin’s hand comes up, wrapping around your wrist—not to pull you away, but to hold you there and he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. They’re smooth and pillowy soft, your lips. As you kiss him back, eyes instinctively closing, you take in the smell of him, of his hair, and his skin. The smell of yourself.

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and you can feel his grip tighten on your wrist, his body tensing as he kisses back and a small sound escapes him, muffled by the kiss.

It feels different. But it’s something you can’t quite name, something that feels both terrifying and exhilarating. The way your lips move against each other, the way Hyunjin’s body presses against yours—it’s all so familiar and yet completely foreign.

You’re kissing yourself, and yet it’s him. It’s Hyunjin.

And it’s you.

 Your hands begin to roam, exploring the contours of his body with a kind of urgency that surprises you. Hyunjin responds in kind, his fingers sliding down your spine, his breath hot against your skin.

Hyunjin's hands grip the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as though you could somehow fuse together, body and mind. His lips, moving against yours with a desperation you’ve never felt before, sending a faint tingling throughout your body.

It’s overwhelming—feeling your own body from the outside, feeling how soft your skin is, how responsive it is to every touch. And the strength of your body—Hyunjin’s body—surprises you. It’s like you’re discovering him all over again, but from the inside out.

You pull back for just a second, breathless, your forehead resting against his. Your breath mingles with his, both of you breathing hard, and when you look into his eyes—your eyes—the confusion is still there, but it’s mingled with something else now. Something you’re both too afraid to say out loud.

“Are we really doing this?” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice low, uncertain.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you kiss him again—harder this time, with all the urgency of the moment flooding into it. There’s no stopping now.

 Without speaking, you both start peeling off clothes, the movements frantic, unsteady, like you can’t get out of your clothes fast enough. It’s surreal, watching your own body undress in front of you, seeing it from a perspective you never thought you’d have.

When Hyunjin’s body—your body—is finally bare in front of you, you openly stare at him for a beat too long and he tries to cover up with his hands. His shyness, though completely absurd, is still endearing. You’ve seen yourself naked countless times, but this is different. This is him in a different form. In a way, it doesn’t even seem like you anymore.

You close the distance between you, the feeling of his body on yours sinks into your skin, and spreads through every one of your nerves- Warm. Hyunjin lets out a soft sound, almost like a sigh, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands grip your arms, holding on like he’s afraid to let go.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes dark with desire, but theres a softness there too, a tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

“I’m okay with it,” you whisper, your voice shaky but certain. “I want this. I want you.”

Your hand drifts down, tracing the outline of your cock through your pants, the weight of it in your palm heavy and warm. The feeling sends a rush of heat through you—different from anything you’ve felt before. Hyunjin’s breath hitches, and you can see the flush in his cheeks, the way his body tenses under your touch.

“I wonder how it feels…” you whisper, your voice thick with desire, “to be inside myself.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicker with something—curiosity, maybe, or something darker. “I want to know, too.”

Before you can overthink it, you’re pulling him down, your lips sliding against his in a messy kiss —your body responding to the familiar and unfamiliar all at once. 

You could feel your own skin from the outside now, the sensation of it under your fingers unfamiliar but fascinating. The texture was soft, smoother than you’d ever noticed before, and for the first time, you realized how delicate you actually felt in Hyunjin’s hands. as he moved closer you could smell your own scent wafting from your skin—it was all-consuming. The scent of your own body, the taste of your lips when you kissed, the softness of your skin—it was intoxicating.

“I don’t even know what to do,” Hyunjin admitted quietly, his voice—your voice—tinged with uncertainty. “I mean, this is your body. I don’t want to…”

“You’re me right now,” you interrupted, your heart racing. “And I’m you. So… I think we just… feel.”

Your hand glides down his chest, tracing the curve of your own body and feeling how it responds to the touch. Hyunjin shudders as your hand brushes against the swell of his—your—breasts. The roughness of your hands against the softness there makes you pause, swallowing hard before continuing.

The sensation is strange—your breasts, which have always been a natural part of you, now feel unfamiliar, foreign, and yet deeply intimate. Your fingers trail over your skin with a mix of awe and confusion, exploring every curve with a renewed sense of wonder.

“I never knew… I never figured that—”

“You felt so good?” Hyunjin finishes for you, his voice soft but tinged with amazement. His hands mirror yours as he caresses himself—your body—with reverence, his touch tender as if learning you anew. “Yeah. It amazes me too.”

Hyunjin’s hand moves lower, tentative but curious, your eyes follow them. His fingers trace the soft skin of his thighs -a delicate dance between curiosity and intimacy. They slide between his legs, and you notice him take a deep breath.

 “I’m wet.”

The words tumble out of him before he can stop them, —a fact spoken aloud to make it feel real.

it’s not that he didn’t expect this. Of course he did. It’s natural, inevitable. But knowing something in theory and feeling it are two entirely different things. And now, with the heat pooling between his thighs, the slickness against his skin, he’s finally experiencing it—fully, tangibly.

As Hyunjin’s fingers linger between his legs, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull, an urge to close the distance. The sight of him—of you—so vulnerable, so immersed, stirs something deep within you. Your hand moves almost instinctively, reaching out, your curiosity stronger than any doubt.

Your fingertips brush lightly against his wrist, as if asking rather than taking. He glances at you, his breath hitching, and for a moment the two of you are caught in a quiet understanding. His hand doesn’t pull away.

Encouraged, your fingers settle just above his, not guiding, not interfering, but simply being there. Sharing the space, the sensation, the moment. His breath comes slower now, his movements steady, and you feel the warmth radiating from his skin through yours.

And then you feel it.

The slow, building pressure in your body. It starts as a tightness in your lower abdomen, an unfamiliar sensation that makes your breath hitch. You can feel your own skin heating up, the muscles in your groin tightening as something else builds inside of you.

The feeling of an erection.

The sensation of your own arousal was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The feeling of your cock hardening, the way your balls tightened with anticipation—it was both exhilarating and overwhelming. You had no control over the way your body responded, but at the same time, it felt natural, like something primal was taking over.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed over your body—his body—You could feel every muscle, every shift of skin under his touch, and it only made you crave more. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you melt under his fingers, because he knew you. He knew your body in a way no one else could, because for the first time, he had felt what you felt.

You bit your lip as you slid your hand under the waistband, freeing his erection. The feeling of Hyunjin’s dick in your hand—your own now—was almost too much to process. It was hot, heavy, the skin smooth and velvety beneath your palm, and the sensation of it pulsing in your grip

“It’s so… hard,” you whispered, your hand moving slowly, stroking along the length of his cock. You’d never felt anything like it before, the sheer rawness of it, the pressure of arousal building in your gut in a way that was completely unfamiliar.

“This feels…” Hyunjin’s voice—your voice—breaks the silence, as his hands move over your chest, tracing the lines of muscle there. “So different. So intense.”

You smirk, leaning down to press your lips against his neck, feeling the way his pulse races beneath your touch. “You have no idea.”

You decide to take the lead, guiding him to his back as you press kisses along his chest,

Your hands slide lower, grazing the inside of his thighs, and the sensation sends a rush of heat straight through you. more desperate, more eager to explore every inch of him. You pause, glancing up at him and see him staring at you, eyes lidded, but hesitant to close.

You can see the tension in Hyunjin’s face, the way he’s trying to process everything, but he’s too far gone now, too caught up in the overwhelming sensations. His hands grip your shoulders, pulling you closer and when you settle between his legs, you hesitate for a moment feeling your dick twitch at the slightest contact.

You reach for Hyunjin’s hands again, holding them tightly as your eyes meet his. His eyes are tracking your every move, and his eyebrows have worn a crease between them since you started. “Are you scared?” you whisper, voice soft yet steady.

Hyunjin lets out a quiet breath, his cheeks flushed as he glances away, gently pulling his hands from yours to hide his face. "You're even treating me like... like a girl," he says, his voice trailing off, almost embarrassed.

A small smile pulls at your lips. “In a way, aren’t we both… sort of like virgins right now?” You give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Neither of us really knows what this feels like.”

He finally looks back at you, his gaze settling between your bodies for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I know you won’t hurt me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I never hurt you.”

The weight of his words presses into your chest, and though you know he believes them, you’re aware that it’s not entirely true. Pain and pleasure had often existed in the same space between you, something he’s about to experience, perhaps for the first time.

You guide his hands back to your body, encouraging him to explore each sensation, to feel every part of himself as if it’s brand new. He lets out a shaky breath, his touch growing more confident and as your eyes meet, he reaches down grab your cock, languidly stroking it, jerking you off with a touch that is familiar yet entirely new.

You buck your hips into him, seeing the way he twists his hands around the shaft. It feels so fucking good already. The sight of it—your cock, hard and throbbing—makes you dizzy.  The need is overwhelming, and you don’t have time for hesitation.

Sliding your hands slowly up his thighs, you press his legs apart, the vulnerability and trust in his gaze fuel your every move.  You lean in, pressing gentle kisses down his neck, your lips barely brushing his skin, lingering, allowing him to adjust to each sensation. Your fingers trail along the delicate skin inside his thighs, inching closer before you reach his core. As your fingers press and rub circles over his clit, his hand falters, grip tightening around you as he gasps at the sensation. You feel him tremble beneath your touch, his arousal evident as your fingers slide lower, gathering wetness, slick and warm, and spreading it over him.

The look in Hyunjin’s eyes, in your eyes, is not like looking at your reflection. It’s like looking at a stranger. The disconnect catches you off guard but you know it’s him, and all you want is to make him feel good. Give him everything you know he needs right now.

You don’t mean to be rough, but there’s no gentleness in your movements either. Hyunjin’s body feels invincible, and the weight of it presses into Hyunjin’s—your—softer frame. You grip his wrists, holding him down as you straddle him, and you can’t help but notice how small his body feels under yours.

“You’re so fucking soft,” you mutter, almost to yourself, your hands running over his thighs, squeezing them as you press his legs apart, giving yourself the space to move. You’ve never felt your own skin from the outside, never appreciated just how warm and slick you get when aroused.

Hyunjin shifts beneath you, “I don’t know if I—” he starts, but you cut him off by positioning yourself between his legs, your cock heavy in your hand. You look down at your own body spread open and waiting. Your hands tremble slightly as you grip your cock, guiding it to his entrance.

But then Hyunjin’s hand pushes gently against your chest. “Wait.”

You pause, the sudden halt almost painful with how wound up you feel. “What?”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking down between your bodies. “You’re… not used to being a guy. Shouldn’t we—”

You know what he’s about to say, and before he can finish, you cut him off, the words coming out blunter than you intend. “I’m not using one.”

Hyunjin blinks up at you, your own face looking surprised and maybe a little alarmed. “Hell no. I don’t want any chance of you getting me—” he stumbles over the words, his voice rising in disbelief, “I mean, you—pregnant.”

The absurdity of the situation hangs in the air between you for a split second, but neither of you laughs. The tension between you is too high, the heat too intense, and you can tell he’s serious.

You click your tongue, the weight of the moment settling between you, then reach over to grab a condom from the side table. As you roll it on, there’s a brief pause, both of you staring at each other in this strange, disorienting exchange—like you’re both trying to process the line you’re about to cross, or maybe the ones you’ve already crossed.

This is something entirely new.

As you push inside, both of you cry out. Hyunjin tenses completely — the feeling of your cock stretching and filling him—is overwhelming. The tightness, the heat, the way your body clenches around you as you sink deeper inside. More than that, he’s wet, incredibly wet,. You begin to think that whatever the situation your body will always welcome his.

Hyunjin lets out a breathless moan, his hands gripping the back of the couch as his hips arch toward you, urging you to move. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his voice trembling as you begin to thrust into him, slow and steady.

You groan as you bottom out, the slickness of your folds making every movement feel smoother, more intense. The sensation of your cock sliding in and out of him—out of yourself—is unlike anything you could have imagined. The friction, the heat, the way his body—your body—responds to your every thrust. This is what keeps him coming back,

“Hyunjin,” you groan, your hands gripping his hips as you build a steady pace, feeling the pleasure build inside you. “It’s so tight.”

Hyunjin doesn’t give much of a response, though he is anything but quiet, clutching onto you for dear life. “Hyunjin?” You still for a moment, “are you okay?”

“Yes. Just don’t stop”

Hyunjin’s mind is reeling, but his body is burning with need, and he wants nothing more than to lose himself in the moment --- to shut his brain off completely. As you press him further into the couch, folding his legs up, he squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around you and hugging your body closer. He tries to picture you—the way you usually look, the way you touch him gently, the way you fit against him. That would make this easier, he thinks, if he can just pretend it’s you, like normal, things will feel familiar again.

. Every movement, every brush of your cock against his walls sends waves of pleasure crashing through both of you, the unfamiliar sensations heightening everything.

 In your possession, his dick feels like a loaded weapon—dangerous, powerful, and utterly out of his contol.  The weight of your body—his body—pinning him down, and every time he tries to picture your usual self above him, all he can feel is the undeniable presence of a man.

You push deeper, and Hyunjin can’t stop the sharp gasp that escapes his lips. The stretch is intense, it even hurts a little, but his body responds anyway, betraying him, heat pooling low in his stomach as you hit a spot that makes his legs weak.

“Fuck, I—” His words break off as you thrust harder, your grip tightening on his hips. He can’t finish the thought, can’t admit to himself what is really going through his mind.

He hates how good it feels. He hates that he can’t stop his body from reacting, cant stop the moans spilling from his lips, can’t stop the way his hips move to meet yours with every thrust.

“I can’t—” he tries again, his breath catching as your hips snap against his. He bites his lip, trying to suppress the noises escaping him, trying to hold on to some shred of control. But its slipping away, fast.

“You can’t what?” you mutter, your voice rough, “What’s wrong?”

He wants to hate it. Wants to stop. But he can’t.

You can tell Hyunjin is on the brink of losing it, the way his body—your body—trembled beneath you, his hands gripping the couch as he tried to hold on to something familiar. But there wasn’t anything familiar about this for him. He was in your body now, and you had all the power.

“I don’t…” Hyunjin swallowed hard, trying to get the words out, but they stuck in his throat. His voice sounded strained, like he was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. “I can’t… it doesn’t feel like me.”

You paused, your hips stilling for a moment as you looked down at him—at yourself. He could see the confusion on your face, but there was something darker there too, something satisfied in the way your lips curled into a small, almost amused smirk.

“It’s not,” you say, your voice quiet, yet clear, “Not right now.”

You push your hands behind his back, slowly bringing him into your arms and pressing his body against yours. Hyunjin realizes then that he is being carried. You pad toward your bedroom in short awkward steps, “Hold on. I got you.” And he does,

 “Why are you carrying me?”

“Because I can.” You stand him up on the floor and turn him around to face the mirror, “Here. Look.”

In the reflection, you can see yourselves, your body, his, and the rest of your bedroom.

.                       You lean in closer, your breath hot against his ear. “See? It’s us,”. You murmur, your hands sliding down to grip his hips, pulling him closer.

It takes Hyunjin a moment to understand what you mean. It’s us. Looking in the mirror like this, it almost feels normal. Like you both are in the right body. You bend him over the bed, allowing him to still see the scene in the mirror. “And this is better than the sofa.”

The expression you’re wearing on his face makes him a little uneasy. So, he puts all his focus onto yours, the real you. Before he realizes it, you’re pulling him back on your dick again. He jolts at the sudden movement, his body curling up off the bed. Have you always been this…rough? Does it just feel different now? Why does he like it so much?

He lets out a choked sound, pressing his face into the sheets. This new angle lets you move deeeep inside, you can feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You’re throbbing inside of him, and you know he can feel it.

You hold him by the throat pulling him up to face the mirror, so he can see how good he looks when he’s fucking you, and how good he looks being fucked.

“You like that?” you groan as you rut into him faster, feeling his body clench tight around you. All he can do is nod. “I knew you would.”

 Nobody likes the sound of their own voice, but you don’t want to shut up right now. Letting the sound of Hyunjins voice ring through your head. Every word and every moan that comes to you escaping passed your lips. Why not go all out?

You take each of his wrists, pulling them behind his back, lifting him up off the bed, giving him a full view of your body in the mirror, but he can barely keep his head up, hair falling in front of his face, and when you start to stuff your cock inside him again, your tits bounce up and down with your thrusts. You watch as Hyunjin’s dick disappears inside your pussy, again and again. The sight brings you close to cumming, but you control yourself.

You take in a sharp breath, slowing your pace, allowing yourself to feel the slow drag of your cock against the walls of your cunt, watching Hyunjin through lidded eyes, his reactions make you want to give him more, impossibly more. Dying to see how good you can make him feel.

You put a leg up on the bed, pulling his ass back against your dick. Your hands slide up his back, grabbing him by the neck, and the other hand grabbing a handful of hair. You’re thinking maybe he’ll like that as much as you do and how loud he’s getting confirms it for you.

You push your cock in completely, feeling his pussy clench around you, needing friction, but you still inside him, “You take dick pretty well.” You say before you pull out leaving in just the tip, just before you slam back in suddenly. You continue fucking him in long, deep strokes, your personal favorite.

“Tha-ts no-ot fu- uhah ahhh..” Hyunjin tries to speak through your hard thrusts but fails.

“I’m not being funny,” you grin, taking his jaw and turning it towards you, taking his lips for filthy kiss, sliding your tongue into his open mouth, swirling them around each other. It’s not long before you’re trying to kiss but only panting into each other’s mouths closer and closer to cumming.

You wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, caging his smaller frame inside your arms. Fucking him harder, not any faster, just harder and deeper. Fucking him until you feel him stiffen up below you, feeling his hands clutching at your arms trying to ground himself. You keep driving your cock into him until it sounds like he’s crying.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t sto-,” Hyunjin let out a choked sound, his head falling back as he came, his body convulsing beneath you as the orgasm tore through him. He wasn’t in control anymore—hadn’t been for a while. His body had already given in, and now his mind was catching up.

You could feel it too—the pressure building fast as you thrust deeper, pushing him through his orgasm. You tighten your hold around him, following close behind, the release hitting you hard as you cum inside him, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

For a moment, the world stops, it takes you both a while to come down, your bodies collapsing together in a tangled mess. The air feels thick, heavy with everything that has just happened, and when you finally pull out, the silence between you is deafening.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He lays there, staring up at the ceiling, his chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You can see the conflict in his eyes—the way he is struggling to process it all. He wants to feel that this is just another hookup with you, but it isn’t. Not this time.

El FIN

second author's note: 🎵 i am yooouuu. I see me in youuu 🎶 i included like page break lines to show time skip but they didnt work when i pasted it in womp womp. look guys a bitch did her best. i tried to give yall the cute little pictures all the other hoes on here do. and i told yall it was weird. theres a lot of issues but writing this turned my brain into sloppy joe mix but if you made it to the end i appreciate youuuu soooo muuuchh. omg i feel like i fucked this up so bad anyway mwah mwah. Now go fuck yourself! Wink wink

[were-all-idjits-here]

Sam Winchester Crushing On You Headcanons

Pairing: Sam Winchester x gender neutral reader Warnings: some light angst, mention of canon-typical violence (nothing described) A/N: Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

*

Sam is always in-tune with himself and his emotions and can’t deny the instant chemistry and attraction after he first meets you. This results in a lot of immediate little awkward smiles, laughs, and looking down at his shoes.

He’s very gentle with the way he approaches and talks to you right out of the gate. He doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass, but still tries to make himself as approachable and welcoming as possible.

Especially if you’re already another hunter, he’s impressed with your skills, intelligence, and determination—and watching you expertly figure out a piece of the puzzle or gank a monster is a huge turn-on for him.

He’s silently very attentive and protective. He never gets in your way or makes you feel incapable, but he’s always sticking close by you and hovering in the background to be there the instant you need backup. If you’re sick, injured, or struggling with something emotionally, he’s always gently checking in on you, offering to listen to anything you need to talk out, taking expert care of you, and making sure you’re eating healthy and drinking enough water.

If you enjoy exercising—especially running—and show interest in working out with him, he’s ecstatic. Although he didn’t account for trying not to drool over you in your workout clothes. Eventually, this might turn into a habit of hiking dates, where you two always try to find the best trail wherever you are after a hunt is done and he really treasures those memories.

Although he can be a little bit awkward and obvious about liking you, it takes him a looooong time to outright admit it, because 1) we all know he has a complex about getting his significant others killed, and 2) even if he suspects you like him back, he’ll always gaslight himself into thinking you really don’t and are just being nice. So he just continues to do nice things for you and give you longing glances that drives Dean nuts.

He tries to hide any jealousy issues he might have, but isn’t very good at it. Although you might not notice because Phase One involves him trying to distance himself from you the second someone flirts with you, he gets very cranky, irritable, and absolutely shit-talks the person interested in you to Dean while glaring a hole in the back of this person’s head. If he thinks this person might be sleazy or dangerous, eventually (Phase Two), he’ll try to interrupt and get you to come “help” him with something or go back to the motel with them, explaining to you later that he just didn’t trust this person. But if it’s just another regular person that you also seem interested in, he’ll do his best to hold himself back. Then in Phase Three, if you and the other person are really clicking and actually are making a good pair, he’ll get a bit sulky and convince himself that you deserve better than him (aka this other person) and the roller coaster of emotions has Dean wanting to bury his head in the wall.

When other people inevitably hit on Sam during hunts, he’s just as oblivious to how irritated you now are. Sometimes, especially if you seem interested in someone else, he’ll try to go for this other person, but eventually cuts it off because of how unsatisfying it was that it wasn’t you.

If you share any of his interests, especially reading, he’s so excited to do it with you—even if it’s just reading different books in the same room. You two are constantly swapping recommendations and sometimes even reading the same book and discussing it later.

He obviously thinks you’re gorgeous and stares at you with the most love-drunk look on his face constantly (and only fails to look away before you look at him half the time).

Once you field horrendous injuries and death enough times, Sam starts to get a little more confident that you aren’t an easy target to kill. He still doesn’t reveal his feelings for you, but is willing to open up a bit more about how everyone he’s ever been with is dead if the subject comes up naturally, and explains how he feels like a curse. He’s very touched at all the comfort you give him to assure him he’s anything but and it only makes him fall for you harder.

If he’s the one who’s ever sick or injured, he’s always surprised by how much your guard falls to show that you care and are worried about him, dropping everything to take care of/pamper him (he really does deserve some pampering). Of course, he does the exact same for you and those are always the moments you two come the closest to confessing and get the most touchy-feely.

I think at some point, once he’s gotten more comfortable with you and realizes just how formidable you are, he’d be willing to dip his toe in to test the waters a bit more: not trying as hard to urgently look away before you meet his gaze, sharing little touches here and there, being a bit more free with his compliments, etc, and is elated when you return them.

I could definitely see him being the type to just lean into this more and go one of two ways: either you finally confess your feelings and cue a long conversation about how being with him won’t be the cause of your death but he also can’t sideline you if you’re another hunter; or some big event happens that either makes him feel the need to confess his feelings, or if he feels you got injured/almost died because of him, he starts pulling back and distancing himself again until you finally get frustrated enough and lecture him.

He longs for the simple, domestic things with you and you’re one of the few people who makes him feel “normal” with all your little moments of bonding over shared interests, laughing, and just doing normal activities.

If the opportunity ever presented itself to leave the hunting life and go live an “apple pie” life with you and you agreed, he would do it in a heartbeat. Even before you get together, he’s regularly imagining what it would be like to have a house, kids, a dog, marriage, the whole nine yards with you (but then he usually gets sad because he assumes that’s not in the cards for him). Sam is always in tune with himself and his emotions and can’t deny the instant chemistry and attraction after he first meets you. This results in a lot of immediate little awkward smiles, laughs, and looking down at his shoes.

He’s very gentle with the way he approaches and talks to you right out of the gate. He doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass, but still tries to make himself as approachable and welcoming as possible.

Especially if you’re already another hunter, he’s impressed with your skills, intelligence, and determination—and watching you expertly figure out a piece of the puzzle or gank a monster is a huge turn-on for him.

He’s silently very attentive and protective. He never gets in your way or makes you feel incapable, but he’s always sticking close by and hovering in the background to be there the instant you need backup. If you’re sick, injured, or struggling with something emotionally, he’s always gently checking in on you, offering to listen to anything you need to talk out, taking expert care of you, and making sure you’re eating healthy and drinking enough water.

If you enjoy exercising—especially running—and show interest in working out with him, he’s ecstatic. Although he didn’t account for trying not to drool over you in your workout clothes. Eventually, this might turn into a habit of hiking dates, where you two always try to find the best trail wherever you are after a hunt is done and he really treasures those memories.

Although he can be a little bit awkward and obvious about liking you, it takes him a looooong time to outright admit it, because 1) we all know he has a complex about getting his significant others killed, and 2) even if he suspects you like him back, he’ll always gaslight himself into thinking you really don’t and are just being nice. So he just continues to do nice things for you and give you longing glances that drive Dean nuts.

He tries to hide any jealousy issues he might have, but isn’t very good at it. Although you might not notice because Phase One involves him trying to distance himself from you the second someone flirts with you, he gets very cranky, irritable, and absolutely shit-talks the person interested in you to Dean while glaring a hole in the back of this person’s head. If he thinks this person might be sleazy or dangerous, eventually (Phase Two) he’ll try to interrupt and get you to come “help” him with something or go back to the motel with them, explaining to you later that he just didn’t trust this person. But if it’s just another regular person that you also seem interested in, he’ll do his best to hold himself back. Then in Phase Three, if you and the other person are really clicking and actually are making a good pair, he’ll get a bit sulky and convince himself that you deserve better than him (aka this other person) and the roller coaster of emotions has Dean wanting to bury his head in the wall.

When other people inevitably hit on Sam during hunts, he’s just as oblivious to how irritated you now are. Sometimes, especially if you seem interested in someone else, he’ll try to go for this other person, but eventually cuts it off because of how unsatisfying it was that it wasn’t you.

If you share any of his interests, especially reading, he’s so excited to do it with you—even if it’s just reading different books in the same room. You two are constantly swapping recommendations and sometimes even reading the same book and discussing it later.

He obviously thinks you’re gorgeous and stares at you with the most love-drunk look on his face constantly (and only fails to look away before you look at him half the time).

Once you field horrendous injuries and death enough times, Sam starts to get a little more confident that you aren’t an easy target to kill. He still doesn’t reveal his feelings for you, but is willing to open up a bit more about how everyone he’s ever been with is dead if the subject comes up naturally, and explains how he feels like a curse. He’s very touched at all the comfort you give him to assure him he’s anything but and it only makes him fall for you harder.

If he’s the one who’s ever sick or injured, he’s always surprised by how much your guard falls to show that you care and are worried about him, dropping everything to take care of/pamper him (he really does deserve some pampering). Of course, he does the exact same for you and those are always the moments you two come the closest to confessing and get the most touchy-feely.

I think at some point, once he’s gotten more comfortable with you and realizes just how formidable you are, he’d be willing to dip his toe in to test the waters a bit more: not trying as hard to urgently look away before you meet his gaze, sharing little touches here and there, being a bit freer with his compliments, etc, and is elated when you return them.

I could definitely see him being the type to just lean into this more and go one of two ways: either you finally confess your feelings and cue a long conversation about how being with him won’t be the cause of your death but he also can’t sideline you if you’re another hunter; or some big event happens that either makes him feel the need to confess his feelings, or if he feels you got injured/almost died because of him, he starts pulling back and distancing himself again until you finally get frustrated enough and lecture him.

He longs for the simple, domestic things with you and you’re one of the few people who makes him feel “normal” with all your little moments of bonding over shared interests, laughing, and just doing normal activities.

If the opportunity ever presented itself to leave the hunting life and go live an “apple pie” life with you and you agreed, he would do it in a heartbeat. Even before you get together, he’s regularly imagining what it would be like to have a house, kids, a dog, marriage, the whole nine yards with you (but then he usually gets sad because he assumes that’s not in the cards for him).

[unknowntoyou2205]

Memories

Info: It's the last season for the supernatural cast, and there's one question on everyone's mind.

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Platonic reader

This was it, the final season of Supernatural had been released, and the cast were beginning to feel the emotions. For the past 15 years Jared and Jensen had been the fan favourite, but when y/n joined the cast in season 3, she instantly became a favourite among the cast. Her character Maya was originally meant to be temporary, a quick and emotionless relationship for Dean, but that turned when the chemistry between them were highly wanted among fans. By season ten the on screen couple became married, after much pushing from Sam. For a while fans even shipped y/n and Jensen together, but that was quickly put to bed when Jensen got engaged to Daneel, with y/n standing on Daneel’s side as a bridesmaid.

Now, Jensen and y/n were close beyond words, people called them each other’s soul mate. Y/n was the goddaughter for all three of his children, and Jensen had given y/n away on her wedding day since she lost both her presents quite young. Jensen had been the one to comfort y/n when she lost both her parents, and y/n had been the one to help Jensen pick Daneels engagement ring. During filming Jensen would often buy y/n her morning coffee and y/n would have their breakfast ready. Both of them were important to each other, and fans hoped it wouldn’t change when they were finished filming together.

Now, sitting on the stage, y/n sat opposite Jensen, with him in the middle of her and Jared. It was their last convention of the year, and they were all excited yet dreading the last day together. They knew they would still see each other, Jensen and Jared lived reasonably close to each other, with y/n living only half hours’ drive away. Jensen looked over at y/n and winked at her, causing her to laugh while Jared was mid talking, the crowd screaming in delight at their antics.

“Are you okay over there?” Jared asked, looking around Jensen to see y/n. “I’m fine.” y/n spoke, smiling at him while looking at the crowd. “This is very important information I’m giving these guys and your just here laughing.” Jared tutted, and Jensen rolled his eyes. “Yea y/n, so not cool.” Jensen piped in, and y/n dropped her mouth as she turned to her. “You made me laugh. You guys seen it, he made me laugh.” Y/n spoke to the crowd and Jensen looked out at them. “They see nothing.” Jensen breathed out, only for the crowd to scream in agreeance with the woman, “Okay I don’t like any of you now.” Jensen spoke dramatically, pointing to around the room. “Not my fault I’m the fan favourite.” Y/n shrugged, causing both boys to gasp. “The ignorance.” Jared spoke, shaking his head. “You seem to forget that we’re the ones who made this show happen.” Jensen stated. “Yea.” Jared chimed in, nodding his head. “And you seem to forget that it was me the guys wanted to stay, ain’t that right.” Y/n spoke, turning to talk to the crowds as they cheered. “Alright, alright.” Jared spoke, calming the crowd down, “I umm, I’ve forgotten what was asked now.” “I think you answered it.” Jensen spoke, looking at the one who asked the question. “Yep.” The boy nodded. “Thank you.” Y/n smiled at him before waiting for the next question to be asked.

“On your last day of filming, did you guys take anything from set.” A young girl , no younger than 14 spoke into the phone. “Oh you could get us into trouble here.” Jensen joked, and y/n and Jared laughed as he scratched the back of his head. “No umm, I think Jensen and I both took a flannel from Dean and Sam, right?” Jared spoke, looking at Jensen for confirmation. “Yeah took a few flannels from wardrobe on last day, there was one that I think I must have had since season one which is kind of cool umm.” “God that has seen better days.” Y/n commented, causing Jensen to laugh. “Yea it has, very tattered at this stage.” Jensen laughed. “I also took a mug which was really random.” Jared laughed, causing y/n to laugh. “Was that the white one? Which spontaneously happened to be in every season.” Y/n spoke. “Yeah it is actually. I don’t think many people realize that but I used the same mug each time we filmed a scene.” Jared explained. “Which is very surprising going by our history.” Jensen spoke. “Very true.” Jared agreed, the two laughing at the memories. “Jensen and I have a very special object with that we each took the wedding bands that Maya and Dean wore after their supposed ‘marriage’.” Y/n explained, putting air quotes around the marriage. “Yea we did actually.” Jensen nodded, causing the fans to scream in happiness. “Yea I have Deans on my pointer finger, and you have Maya’s on your pinkie isn’t it.” Y/n explained, looking at Jensen. “Yeah y/n’s fingers are very small compared to mine, so, “ Jensen chuckled as he moved to show the ring, “ I was really surprised it even fit my pinkie to be honest. Have expected it to get stuck.” Jensen lifted his pinkie and y/n lifted her finger to show the rings, both on the right hand.

“I still remember when the fans shipped you two together.” Jared commented. “I know, that was a fun conversation with Daneel.” Y/n joked, causing Jensen to laugh at the memories. “Daneel jokingly squared up to y/n the first time she met her, which was hilarious as y/n was dressed as Maya at the time.” Jensen explained, causing the crowd to laugh. “No I love Daneel, she’s great. And David also loves you which was such a relief.” Y/n commented, smiling at the memories the two couples had. “Would you still be with David if he hadn’t of liked Jensen.” A fan called out, causing gasps to come from the crowd and y/n. “Wow, what a question.” Y/n spoke, “No, Jensen is very special to me, as is Jared, but if David hadn’t of liked Jensen then he’d of been dumped straight away.” “No questions asked?” Jensen asked. “No questions asked.” Y/n confirmed, causing Jensen to smile widely and throw an arm around her. “I do like David, David is very good to our family. Whenever myself and y/n were filming he’d help Daneel with the kids which we were always grateful for.” “He loves those kids.” Y/n smiled. “And the kids love him. We are quite fortunate that our kids are quite close with each other I mean Jared is uncle Jared and y/n is their godmother so, it’s incredibly special to me that David helps Daneel when I’m not around.” Jensen spoke, causing y/n to smile. “And Arrow loves him.” Y/n commented. “Yeah Arrow is convinced she’s going to marry David so, not sure how to feel about that but.” Jensen stated, pursing his lips as he shook his head in mock disappointment. “How you feel, she told me that she was taking my man from me whether I liked it or not, it’s happening.” Y/n exclaimed, causing the crowd to aww at the story. “They’ve already had the wedding by the way.” Jared stated. “Oh yeah, everyone was invited.” Jensen confirmed, causing the crowd to laugh again. “Y/n gave David away and the look on her face was priceless.” Jared laughed. “Not every day you get told your giving your husband away.” Y/n spoke, remembering her pretending to be bitter. “She cried when he left that night. Didn’t understand why he was leaving now that they were married.” Jensen spoke. “Aww really.” Y/n awed. “Yeah took awhile to explain that he had a home and that y/n was his actual wife.” Jensen spoke, causing the crowd to aw. “Yea so, to answer your question they’re were many things taken from set.” Y/n announced, looking at the girl who asked the question. “Memories included.”

The crowd awed at that while Jared fake cried. Jensen looked at y/n with misty eyes before jumping up and tackling her in a hug. Y/n screamed as she nearly fell from the stool, and Jared only laughed before joining the two. The crowd went wild, taking photos of the moment in time.

[ailithnight]

This kind of stuff is what I'm thinking when I say the show consistently teaches Danny the wrong lesson.

Like, I would argue that Danny didn't really do anything wrong in that episode.

Okay, he was late to meet up with his friends to hang out. He starts by trying to spin some story about the ghost king, but drops that pretty quick and admits he overslept. He overslept. Normal people oversleep sometimes. Much less half dead teen heroes who likely don't get enough sleep at night.

After that, ghost attack, mini-golf course gets destroyed, Danny flies off immediately afterwards (which, fair, there's good reason for Danny to get the hell out of dodge asap after a fight), the mini-golf manager blames Sam and Tucker for the damage and makes them clean it up. The mini-golf manager does that.

Then again at the school. Ghosts make a mess, Danny chases after, Lancer comes in and asks who made caused the mess. Dash being Dash decides to pin it on Sam and Tucker. Lancer believes him. Which again, not Danny's fault.

I'm not saying Sam and Tucker had no right to be upset. And through a few flashbacks at the beginning (not described on the wiki - gist of it is Danny going intangible or dodging to avoid getting covered in molasses, slobbered on by Cujo, and stepped on by Lunch Lady's giant meat form; where Sam and Tucker being right behind him just have to take it) we learn that this is really just the pot boiling over.

But still. The blame is largely misplaced. There's the ghosts themselves to be upset at for making these messes. And then there's the failure of the adults which results in Sam and Tucker getting punished for things that are not their faults. That's where the blame really belongs. Sure, Danny could have probably put a bit more thought into saving his friends as well as himself in those flashbacks. Sam and Tucker could also just not run into those fights right behind Danny.

Fundamentally, it's more or less the whole ghost situation that Sam and Tucker a frustrated with than anything Danny himself does or does not do. Though recognizing that as the real root of the frustration might be just a bit beyond what one would expect of a couple 14 year olds in terms of maturity and introspection.

So you get to the end of the episode and you have Danny, walking away from having just learned he was cloned 5 times over (4 of whom he watched melt), being tortured, having his life threatened again, and being saved by Sam and Tucker bursting in and running over Vlad with the spectre speeder. And you see him fawning all over himself trying to assure Sam and Tucker he appreciates them. That's what it is, fawning. As in fight, flight, freeze, fawn. When you try to endear yourself to avoid or minimize incoming harm.

You get there, and you aren't seeing Danny having learned some important lesson about friendship. You are seeing him fall into the fawn response. It's not some heart lifting 'he knows to be better from now on' moment. It's just trauma.

The episode transcripts on the Danny Phantom wiki are a blessing, but they also force me to routinely face realizations like-

Kindred Spirits, probably one of the absolute worst episodes for Danny - where he gets kidnapped and finds out that Vlad has been cloning him for months and also gets literally tortured - is... also about how he isn't considerate enough of his friends for some reason

And I can't help but think of that flight home where maybe Danny doesn't explain to them about the cloning thing yet and maybe doesn't mention being tortured or that Vlad's been spying on him or that he watched himself melt and maybe makes no attempt to seek comfort whatsoever because, you know, they're mad at him, what business does he have asking for anything when they just rescued him and he's been so ungrateful lately?

And I just think that maybe lecturing Danny about being a bad friend could have waited for a different episode

[piesafterdark]

Sometimes I’m sad that there are so many issues with arcane season 2. And while I can empathize with the critiques, I swear that if this is all we can get, I just wanna enjoy it. I’m going to remain hopeful for the future and grateful that we got a show at all.

Love you, riot. Not mad, just a little disappointed.

Thanks to the fans spreading warmth and positivity. Love you guys!