Somebodysumbuddy
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For two weeks, Emma has been acting strange. She isn’t sleeping, barely eats anything that isn’t takeout, and keeps insisting she’s fine every time Brendon asks what’s wrong. As he watches the woman he loves slowly drift further and further from herself, Brendon becomes determined to figure out what’s happening—even if Emma can’t explain it either.
Bookmarked by Somebodysumbuddy
18 Jun 2026
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when your stupid ex boyfriend kicks you out of the flat, he forgets to give you your cat back.
you find the meanest looking guy in the bar to help you get her back.
Bookmarked by Somebodysumbuddy
16 Jun 2026
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“So ditch him,” comes out of his mouth before any critical thinking takes place. He holds out his hand. “Have dinner with me.”
“What?” Emma’s eyes widen. “That’s okay, I’m—I can take the bus back home.”
It’s clear from her tone she thinks the offer is just because her date stood her up and he feels bad. A miscommunication that must be rectified as soon as possible. Brendon doesn’t like being misunderstood.
He lets himself look her over, take in her bare legs, her short dress, the way the straps drape over her collarbones. “Dressed like that? No you can’t.” Impatiently, he reasserts that she should take his hand.
“Really,” she pleads, eyes wide and shining with emotion, “just go home. I’m fine.”
“I know you are.” That’s not the point.
It gives her pause. Two little lines appear between her eyebrows, adorably furrowed in confusion. “I—you what?”
He softens. “I know you’re okay. I’m asking you to dinner because I want to take you to dinner.”
- Language:
- English
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- Chapters:
- 3/3
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Bookmarked by Somebodysumbuddy
14 Jun 2026
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Bookmarked by Somebodysumbuddy
09 Jun 2026
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She's wiping at her face with her hands. It's futile. He pulls up outside her building, and she's already reaching for the door handle with her dripping hand. She leaves behind a shiny wet spot. He turns off the car and reaches for his door as well.
Emma stares at him as he rounds the hood of his car toward her. “I'm—”
He doesn't know what she planned to say. Just pulls her close. Use my fucking shirt, he thinks, cupping the back of her head. Christ, he's lost it. But he's already here. So he presses her face to his chest so her tears soak into cotton. He'll wash it when he gets home. They were his tears anyway. He caused them, and he always cleans up his own messes.
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Brendon Park adds a new routine to his day.
Series
- Part 1 of your mess is mine (babyshark)
Bookmarked by Somebodysumbuddy
08 Jun 2026